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Rise of the Northern Warlord: Starting with Daily Intelligence - Chapter 52: Final Trump Card
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Chapter 51: Regiment
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Chapter 53: Optimism
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... ngent alchemical odors.
He raised his hand in greeting: "Good morning."
In the corner, Hilco, sporting heavy dark circles under his eyes, listlessly raised his head to glance at the detestable slave master.
"My lord, good morning." His voice carried a trace of complaint as he casually handed over a fist-sized crude ceramic jar.
Vaerik took the heavy jar. Its surface looked plain and simple, with a linen cloth strip inserted at the mouth—appearing crude as if rando ...
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