Last Will and Testament of Ismail of Nanji

Last Will and Testament of Ismail of Nanji

I am Ismail of Nanji. Brigand, ne'er-do-well, scoundrel, blackguard. These are all words that have been used to describe me, all of them accurate. If you are reading this, there are a few options.

If you stole it, congratulations. Few have stolen from Ismail of Nanji without leaving something behind. Mourn your lost fingers or hand while you read this.

If you slew me, I am genuinely impressed. I am a peerless fighter on my own, and I am clever enough to never be alone during a fight. Take this book and its contents as your spoils.

If you found this tossed aside, like spoils of war that weren't that interesting, then you are quite lucky indeed. All of the benefit, with none of the risk that comes from standing before me as an enemy.

Here is my last will and testament. To the boy Avad Mahmi who lives in Tanat whom I believe to be my flesh and blood son, I leave my sword, contingent upon the charity of those who hold this will. Though we never spoke on the insistence of your mother, know that I wished to meet one day.

To Farshaya Degan of Rafsa, I leave only memories of our time together.

To Neha Mahmi of Tanat, I leave my meagre wealth, again contingent on the charity of those who have come into possession of this will.

And lastly, to they who hold this, my last will and testament, I leave to you enough secrets to burn Pirhajat to the ground. (The next few pages seem to have been torn out. Apparently he had second thoughts on some of these, or updated it as he was going along and decided to not leave drafts in here. The next intact page reads as follows).

House Suren and House Mihran have been in conflict for decades, in this most recent spat. To think they had so much in common! Specifically, yours truly. My old operation in the Borderlands, before some idiots of knightly bearing broke THAT up, was with the tacit permission of House Mihran, as a buffer against Bragancan aggression. My little fort would slow down any attempts to move on Qalat, and ideally blunt any attempts by Melica Suren to do the same in the other direction. Of course, once the fort fell all hell broke loose, but such is life. Meanwhile, Lady Suren's husband sought to tacitly annex parts of Braganca even after peace was obtained by having areas be occupied by Glassedge brigands, only to move in and push them out afterwards. They (and I) were to be rewarded handsomely for this. If you need proof of this latter claim, secure the royal blacksmith Mada Rafi in Eshqabad. For the former claim, you'll have to nail down Sama Abin in the capital. She was my go-between with the Empress's younger sister. May they join me soon in the afterlife, that I might gloat at them for their pathetic overconfidence.