'The job was going well until they reached the main dining room. The Parsa Cartel hadn't been capable of any sort of organized resistance. The corpses scattered about the property included none of his own squad. But the massive banquet room was another story. As far as Alistair was concerned, it presented two serious problems.

His first concern was lighting. Despite the massive chandelier and scattered wall sconces illuminating the room, the space was choked with antique furniture that cast long interlocking shadows on the walls.

Which led directly to the second issue: Alice Gallow strolled casually out of the darkness behind a grandfather clock, clutching a sawed-off shotgun and grinning like a game show contestant who has just won a new car. She tugged Xia along behind her like a recalcitrant child.

"Alice. Xia. Wasn't expecting you to arrive so soon," Alistair said, his voice light and smile firm for the benefit of the troops that flanked him. "Where is Mitzi?"

"Right behind you," Alice said, feeding fat plastic shells in to the sawed-off Mossberg. "Why don't you take a look?"

Alistair declined to do so. In retrospect, that turned out to be a bad decision.'

- The Far Shores