In response, Jubal swept his mask off with one hand.
Vanity made him conceal his unnaturally aged features from all but his closest associates, but at times like this his appearance could be far more eloquent than words.
“I have had one dealing with magic,” he said grimly, “and this was the result.
Years lost off my life was the price I paid to keep from becoming a cripple.
While I do not regret the trade, I would think long and hard before entering into further bargaining. Does it ever occur to you that sooner or later you will have to pay for your luck… for ever dice roll that you do so casually to show off your so-called talent?”
The demonstration had the desired effect on Chenaya. She shook her head in mute admission, averting her eyes from the sight of the now-old man she had once cheered.
“Your noble birth gave you a natural arrogance,” the crimelord continued relentlessly, deliberately leaving his mask off, “and your belief in your own infallibility has escalated it to proportions that try the patience and the stomach. You seem to believe that you can do whatever you want, to whomever you want, without regard to consequence or repercussion. Perhaps the most arrogant assumption of all is that you think that your undisciplined behavior is not only acceptable, but admirable. The truth is that people find your antics alternately amusing and offensive. If they either tire of being tolerant, or if you ever actually succeed in putting something together that is seen as a genuine threat, the real powers of this town will squash you like a bug, along with anyone who stands with you.”