Tucked away behind the larger pavilions that dominated the marketplace, a large private tent stood close to the outermost ring of the competition grounds. Its unassuming appearance - faded red fabric patched in places - made it virtually invisible among the many dozens of similar structures.
No banner announced its owner proudly. No guards stood watch outside. Everything about the structure stressed it was 'not important'. This sort of invisibility was precisely why the merchant Teovar had selected it. His business contacts were important people.
But… their *business* was not for the public.
Steel-gray eyes quickly adjusted to the dim interior when Anper er Yecine ducked through the entrance, in as ill of a mood as ever. An oil lamp hanging from the center pole cast a weak circle of light over the small gathering of his faction. Four figures already sat on black cushions arranged in a loose circle.
