“I received word from Forzane that you wanted to speak to me.”

Indigoblade laid down his quill and pushed aside the latest reward poster for a Bandit Butcher. “I did and thank you for coming so quickly.”

Volvaga shrugged and sat down on the wooden bench in front of Indigoblade’s desk.

“We are pleased that your face masks are doing well in Skyrim. The bandits love them, a bit too much. My friend Maven and I, have you met Maven, in Riften? Anyway, she complained to me about her shipments being raided for these masks and mead bottles destroyed because her shipments do not include these masks.”

“Not my problem.” Volvaga replied while eyeing a fresh red apple in a bowl nearby.

“We are looking into the matter.” He reached over and picked up a letter. “I reviewed your inventory list and we noticed the OBIS agents, well one agent in particular, never sends in black or brown masks. Are you no longer producing these?”

“I assure you, good leader, that my seamstresses do create all colors of masks including those two specific ones in question.”

Indigoblade rubbed his chin, “Strange…wonder why we never receive these as evidence.”