Archmagus Solomon of the Capital #6004

Solomon would take some getting used to, but it would do like all the rest. He set the counterfeit government issued ID card down on the mahogany table and turned back to the strong box. A Sig P365 with two additional 10 round magazines, sat on top of a plain manila folder. He removed the pistol and tucked it naturally into his waistband. The folder contained the target info. Arial photographs of the estate, walls, and nearby streets were accompanied by schematics of the water and sewer systems. County records, tax info and other painfully monotonously detailed documents reminded him why he always saved the folder for the train. Tucking the documents back inside he removed the remaining items from the strong box. A set of iron keys, a digital keycard, miscellaneous credentials, cash, and a small crystal.

He allowed himself to be still as he lowered his hand slowly to the crystal. Squeezing it gently brought flashes of lightening to his closed eyes. Then everything settled. In the stillness of his mind was complete and total darkness. There was nothing. Yet, he could feel he was moving. Drifting. Down. Slowly, then suddenly. The wind was rushing against his face. His beard pushed flat against his neck. Gradually the motion stopped. He could feel a warmth on his face but saw nothing. The heat intensified drawing beads of sweat from his brow. He heard a dark voice whisper his name. His birthname.

His eyes opened suddenly. He stood alone. Unmoved in the dimly lit room. Clutching tightly to the mahogany table, he looked down and saw the crystal on the floor. Using a handkerchief, he picked it up and slid it gently into the lead vial. The clock was ticking, and time was not on his side. He knew what must be done.

Entered by: 0x1Fe3…28Fd and preserved on chain (see transaction)