“Yes, what is it?” Indigoblade sighed at another interruption as he planned the next fallout for the fourth time.
“Someone named Mjoll the Lioness has a complaint, my good man.” Winston patted the letter laying in the palm of his hand.
“This again? One day! One day is all I ask that no one complains about my OBIS agents!” Indigoblade stood up quickly and paced behind his desk. “Let me guess…someone stole her sweetroll?”
Winston snapped the letter opened and informed the boss it was about a cloak.
“A cloak?” Indigoblade dropped back into his chair.
“Specifically a pink cloak, sir.” Winston put the letter on the desk and smoothed it down then spun it around for Indigoblade to read. “The lady wants one as well and claims your agent won’t get her one.”
Indigoblade looked up at Winston, “Got any ale or mead?”