"Do you reckon why we've been summoned?" Asag asked, his tone light as a feather
Jarza, trudging beside him with heavy, armored steps that clanked like a blacksmith's rhythm, grunted. "Not a clue. That bald Romelian informed me first—face redder than a spanked child and looking like he'd just swallowed a bee. If I had to guess, I'd say he did something bone-headed and now he's dragging us into the aftermath."
Asag raised an eyebrow. "Something that implicates us?"
Jarza shrugged, the metal plates of his shoulders clinking like mismatched cutlery. "Could be. He was wearing that special kind of shameful smile.Now it is not my dislike of him talking, but I know that he brought us trouble."
"Maybe we didn't do anything wrong," Asag ventured, his voice cautiously optimistic. "Could be he just called us to inform us of something."
