Proceed to the bookseller.

Making their way through the northeastern section of the market the assassin and the thief enter Rechmon's small, but well-kept, shop. Inside there is only one small room for customers with a counter, table, a few chairs and a closet for scribe supplies. Since hardly anyone can read, Rechmon has very few buyers for books, but makes his money as a scribe for commoners who need to have basic documents read or written.

"Well, look what the cat has dragged in, what kind of trouble are you in now Naerwyn?" An older man from behind the counter asks. Rechmon is slightly talker than average with a distinguished salt and pepper beard and deep grey eyes. He wears a simple faded brown scribe's robe with the hood down. Though his look is one of disapproval at the sight of the thief, his eyes signal it is more of a friendly jab then a rejection. For her part Naerwyn gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, with the affection that would be between an uncle and a niece. "So who is your new friend?" Rechmon looks at the Akkadian with a neutral expression, judging the black haired woman.

"This is Minaja, a new friend of mine. Minaja, this is an old friend, the scribe Rechmon." The Akkadian and Rechmon give each other the same reserved nod, sensing the other's wariness.

"So, what do you need Naerwyn?" Rechmon asks. "Or, should I say what type of trouble are you in now?"

"Do you know anything about invisible daggers? Invisible daggers that explode into a green light when they hit their target?" Naerwyn inquires.

Rechmon ponders for a moment. "To turn a dagger invisible for a few hours, any sorcerer of average level could accomplish, to make it permanent would require a very skilled wielder of the dark arts. However, I think . . . I remember reading . . . wait on minute." Rechmon disappears into the back room.

After several minutes Rechmon returns holding an ancient tome. "I believe the spell you speak of is part of a powerful ritual; one which is very expensive and difficult to cast. Only a wizard of great power would have any hope of successfully casting it. Its end purpose is to create an enchantment that will completely control a victim's will."

"Charm spells are as common as a copper." The Akkadian scoffs. "Why all the focus on a dagger to cast such an ordinary spell."

"If it was an ordinary charm spell, I would agree." Rechmon's eyes narrow at the Akkadian. "The problem with most charm spells is that they are unreliable and the greater the willpower of the victim, the greater the chance the spell will eventually be broken or even outright resisted on casting. This ritual, however, is the only charm spell that cannot be resisted or broken, even by those of the strongest will. In fact, control can be turn off and back on with but a simple command of the caster. The only way to break the spell is with the **** of the caster. The ritual, however, requires a wielder to be bound to the dagger, which cannot be the caster. Besides transforming the dagger, the ritual also transforms its wielder, usually making him invisible too. There are, however, grave limitations."

"Such as?" The Akkadian demands.

"The spell only works if the dagger lands what would normally be killing blow. When such a strike happens the target is enchanted, the dagger disappears and the wielder is then instantaneously killed. You see in order for the spell to work the wielder's life must be sacrificed. This why the dagger cannot be wielded by the caster, and only the most evil and fanatic dark cults use this ritual, since it requires a blind fool to volunteer for such a mission; or unless the wielder is tricked into it."

"Minaja was given such a dagger to have **** on a man who did her great wrong. It was I, however, who landed the fatal blow. Instead of disappearing the dagger exploded into a burning green light. It seemed to have charmed its target, however, I wasn't killed, but I did receive this burn." Naerwyn removes the cloth from her right hand and shows it to Rechmon.

"Hmm, interesting. And your friend wasn't invisible or otherwise changed at the time?"

Naerwyn looks at the Akkadian who shakes his head in the negative. Trustingly Naerwyn answers, "No, not that we know of."

"I guess the spell could have been modified for your friend in some way and that a transforming into an invisible state wouldn't be required. The tome is quite clear, however, the dagger must have a set wielder, or at least a wielder that is in the correct state for the spell to work; such as someone who is invisible or has been turned into an orc. I guess it still worked, because you are both females. Why the spell didn't cause your ****, I don't know, but I am glad it didn't. I am not an expert on the nature of this ritual." Rechmon tells Naerwyn. "As for your hand I would keep an eye on it, and if it gets worse, come back and tell me. I will do some more research into this matter. As for the victim, I am most surprised the spell worked, I would guess it might only be temporary or flawed in some other way."

The Akkadian's face goes cold. He realizes the depth of the sorceress's betrayal. She didn't want Trimon dead, but his will enslaved to hers. In order to do this the witch was willing to sacrifice the assassin's life to finish the spell. As for why the spell worked with Naerwyn as the wielder, he agrees with Rechmon's guess, that it required a woman to use the dagger. Why it didn't kill Naerwyn the Akkadian can venture his own logic; that though Naerwyn is a woman, she wasn't a man transformed into a woman, and thus the spell didn't kill her. The assassin ponders if Naerwyn being a lesbian had any effect on the spell's outcome. However, he is now facing more difficult decisions. How can he change himself back? If he kills the witch will he be changed back or stuck in this woman's body? Should he tell Naerwyn the truth? Or, will she soon figure out something doesn't quite fit with his story?

"Naerwyn, I am feeling a bit distressed by all this." The Akkadian lies, not wanting the thief to ask Rechmon any more questions. "Do you mind if we return back to the tavern?"

The buxom rogue looks with a kind smile towards her new friend. "Of course, Minaja, I can come back later when Rechmon is done with his research." Turning to Rechmon, Naerwyn gives him another quick peck on the cheek and puts a few silver coins into his hand.

"All this would be avoided if you would just give up your wicked ways and embrace Mitra." The scribe returns the smile, his tone is one of endearment, even though his words are preachy.

"But what fun would that be?" Naerwyn waves goodbye and with the Akaddian leaves Rechmon's shop.