The Drogen's Law

Meeting (Christopher)

Christopher David Vancorg, the patriarch of the Vancorg tribe, stood tall behind a massive arched window—watching the thoroughfare that led to and from his Palace. He watched the hubbub of men, waggons, and sedan chairs. “Do you know how much I had had to sacrifice to maintain my position as the Patriarch of the tribe? Messenger boy?”

“This servant will never know the depths of your sacrifice, my Lord. We can only appreciate it, never knowing.”

‘At least he knows how to talk.’ Christopher thought.

Christopher looked at his own reflection in the window. He had black eyes, short black hair and a brown complexion. Nothing impressive aside from his muscular build. Thankfully, his body had no visible scars. All of them were hidden beneath his clothes.

Christopher turned. He stared at the scrawny boy, who was probably no older than sixteen summers. “What message have you, boy?”

“Our troops sent to the four tribes have the same message, My Lord.”

Christopher cracked an eye. “Which is?”

“Your