Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20200326185554/@comment-28358106-20200404034758

"Splendid. Now..."

Dorian tucks the last letter into his coat. He draws his flintlock as he does so, backing away, the barrel pointed at Dean's head.

"Hands where I can see them, governor."

He paces backwards. "Tomorrow, you will deposit five thousand marks at the Central Trade Commission in Barsdale, to a Mr. Willoughby. Tell him it is for your friend Mister Rook.  If the deposit is not accounted for by tomorrow evening, I shall know, and your secrets sold.  And if anything should happen to me, my associates will see that those secrets reach their destination anyway."