The thing that most mortals forgot about games was that they were the most fun when their progression took unexpected turns. It gave agency to those who would never hold it otherwise.

The Arima was impressed by the move played by the human king - enabling war on his own city’s borders to send scouts through the continent to find the Crown of Evira, leading many of his own citizens to their demise... it was either brilliant or mad. Hiding his own guards as members of the opposition, killing off people who were under surveillance by the city was certainly efficient. All at once, he got rid of criminals and suspects alike, as well as a few other… unfortunate accidents. 

Maybe they should have chosen the Regis of Holn as one of their pawns. 

And yet they were aware the Regis would likely be his own downfall. The man was dangerously clever, but so enveloped in his own ego that there was no way he would follow their plan as blindly as they would have hoped.

If anything, he made for an interesting challenge in their game. 

The Arima considered the teams they create: the group of drow were slowly making their way from city to city, searching for the lost Eviran heirloom. They were aware, too aware, almost, of their role as pawns. The Arima could only appreciate their devotion. The second team - a reluctant queen, a stolen thief, and a lost dreamer - was sure to meet eventually. 

The Arima was, of course, there for them, reaching out a hand, as they struggled to find the crown in their name. 

They had incited the kidnapping of the queen's guard and citizens a few months before. 

They had invaded the thief's dreams about her gods.

They had bargained with the Nightmare Prince to allow its host to follow his instincts rather than what the King of Dreams required. 

Instincts that should lead him towards them. 

The Gamemaster.

The Arima. 

...

It was almost too easy.