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Shyrode sighed to herself thinking, The customer is always right, even when they are annoying. “Yes, I have it. It took some doing the digital daemons are not so easily caught, nor are they separatist, three others attacked after we contained this one. I lost two men.”
“You will be rewarded, and compensation for their deaths will be given. Let me see it.” This time Vorcdan did demand, though it was phrased with a tinge of desperation. He licked his lips and Shyrode saw that the little man was pale, and covered in a sheen of sweat. Disgusting.
Out from Shyrode’s pack came a bottle that appeared to be glass, but was some kind of night unbreakable synth. Scribed in gold about it were symbols of unknown origin or meaning. Within a shimmering green mist filled every bit of available space, roiling in what could only be described as frustration. “Here it is, one daemon. Though I do not know why you would want such a dangerous creature of the numenera.”
Vorcdan grabbed the bottle greedily, licking his lips again. “Because, they will bargain for their freedom once trapped, and their currency is wishes …”