It was late at night, and Florence Seegan just wanted a drink. He’d been through the Sargonian Portal, which took quite a toll on...He walked across the street to a late-night comedy club. Surreptitiously, Osmul followed him, ready to kill if he had to. Anything for the sword’s complete ownership. He would do anything at all.

“Hello. Is this thing on?” A comedian breathed heavily into the microphone, sweating beads onto his chin. “My wife said I had to be here tonight. Actually, it was my agent.” Florence Seegan walked over to the bar, and payed no attention to the terrible commedian. Sitting down on one of the barstools, he turned and watched the hologram television nesting in the rack of wines behind the bar.

“What’ll it be, sir?”

“Florence frequented the bar after many late nights. Florence was, after all, the Sargonian Ambassador-Elect to the Empire. Florence nodded and was handed a blue, tall glass of Hadéfo. With a drink Florence got up, rejuvenated, and left the comedy club. He wasn’t in any hurry. The limousine parked in front was glistening in the light of the two nearby streetlamps. A valet recognized him, and opened the door to a bright yellow taxi. Florence clambered inside, and Osmul flagged down a second taxi just as Florence pulled away.

“Hit it! Get to the Algonquin!” The cabbie nodded and sped away. The city lights plunged into the tinted car windows with a surreal light. The city sounds collapsed on Osmul’s ears, and he knew what he had to do. They arrived and Osmul paid him in cash. Osmul entered just as Florence pulled up.

Florence Seegan was then escorted to his hotel room. Thanking the bellhop, he closed the door. Walking over and laying down on his king-sized bed, Florence fell asleep almost instantly. The Ambassador, who was hiding in the corner, grinned grinch-like. This was his chance.

Osmul stepped out of the shadows. However, he wasn’t his usual self. Not at all. In his right hand, he held a bladed weapon. It was a creation of the First Sargonians, thousands of years prior to this moment. He knew he was making history, right in this hotel room. Walking over to the bed, he held Rajoxle up high. The Ambassador plunged the blade into Florence Seegan’s chest, and jumped over to the window across the room. Onlookers have said that they heard the following words come out of his mouth just before he fell:

“I’ve started a fire! Glory to Sargonians!”