A band of trained assassins seek fame and glory.
"Gorgeous, tea is ready!"
Jasper glowered as his carefully made portal collapsed. Making one required absolute concentration; any wavering caused the death of the portal. He idly looked at his own reflection in the mirror and sighed at the wrinkles on his face. He tried a smile and was revolted at the result. Soon he would perish again. But on the positive side, he would get a new face.
"Hurry down here now or there will be consequences!" The silvery voice sounded again.
Jasper got up and locked his door with his ringkey. As fast as his arthritic joints would allow, he half stumbled and hopped down the stairs. He cursed the archaic design which connected his wing with the rest of the guild.