[Balanor]

"Serene."

The darkness and haze lifted slightly, then threatened to overwhelm again.

"Serene! Wake up. It’s been over a week now," the voice cut more harshly into the woman’s thoughts this time, and ever so slowly the fog began to part.

"You are lucky they found her when they did," a hushed voice whispered a few moments later just above, as if from the heavens. "Another hour or two and she would have been beyond my aid and any recovery, and in Mask’s realm for good."

"Mhm," the original voice -female it seemed- replied "If you say so."

The minutes passed in silence and the fog cleared, along with a pain that grew as she became more cognizant of her surroundings. A dark room, plush bed, and almost deathly quiet. She had been here before...

The hushed voice returned "I should return to the altar. She will wake this time. I, and Mask of course, thank you ever so much for your continued donation on this soul’s behalf. She has served us well, and while I’m sure Mask would be pleased to have her in his domain now, he is willing to wait a while longer."

The woman’s voice cut back bitingly "Perhaps not as long as he will be waiting for you, if you don’t watch your tongue. Now get out of my quarters before I send you to meet him."

The soft creaking of leather armor and padding footsteps faded away and then the sound of a door closing caused Serene to finally open her blood-filled eyes. Through the red haze, she found Shabella the Pale, guild mistress of the Bezantur Thieves’ Guild, studying her with a blank expression on her face.

"Well Serene, you must truly be one of Mask’s favorites."

Swallowing against the cotton in her parched mouth Serene hoarsely whispered "What has happened to me?"

Shabella’s visage softened ever so slightly, "You were found dead and stripped of all your belongings on one of the docks. One of our dockhands came across your body when he was collecting dues from the ship captains that night.
"Your adventuring days are over, but you’ll learn to live with that. Strong women of the guild are few and far between, and I plan on keeping you close, acting as my right hand since I know you’ll be loyal – especially now."

Realization suddenly filled her mind and Serene gasped, then gurgled "My blade...?"

Shabella sighed then slipped out a reddish-glowing blade from beneath her cloak, "It turned up on Mask’s Altar moments before the dockhand returned with you. No one claimed to bring it in, and the Priest of Mask didn’t notice anyone bring it in either, surprisingly enough.
"Its strange appearance, and enough gold to buy 100 slaves, is the only reason the priest decided to assist as he took this as a ‘Sign from Mask’."

Serene’s shaking hands grasped the hilt of the blade tightly as she pulled it close and whispered "It’s not so much as I need it anymore as I simply don’t want anyone else to have it."

Shabella shrugged noncommittally "If you say so. We also have some leads on who may have been so ‘kind’ as to dump your body and take all your other possessions. It seems your house was looted too. Once you’re back to full health again, retribution will be your first assignment. We can’t have people thinking they can get away with doing that to the Temple’s second-in-command."

Serene’s look of surprise at her promotion finally registered as she attempted a weak smile "Of course, guild mistress. I will await your command."

Moments later she was asleep again, still tightly grasping The Blade in her pale hands.


Congratulations to KTA and Serene "The White Wench" Blake. While I know KTA will miss the character, Serene has been made one of the NPC leaders of the Thieves’ Guild of Bezantur. Those who find her will be given the opportunity to provide assistance in her machinations as the Temple’s second-in-command in return for a very useful item.

[Balanor]

The priest of Mask silently padded through the darkness toward the north gate of Bezatnur. Once outside the city proper, he slipped into the shadows and murmured a prayer to receive the blessing of night vision from his god and carefully searching the gloom around him.

Nothing.

The darkness remained absolute and undisturbed. At this early hour of the morning, the residents of the Bezantur Market Town either sound asleep, or enjoying more carnal pleasures.

He continued through the maze of dilapidated houses and stench to enter Mufrim’s Place without a word of greeting to anyone. He subconsciously pulled his hood closer around his face, but the act was unnecessary. Most of the clientele had long since passed -or been thrown- out. The bartender was half asleep with his chin in his hand leaning against the bar, and the few that remained were barely able to keep their heads up off the table.

Good, thought the Priest, everything was proceeding as he expected. More relaxed, he bounded up the stairs and to the appointed room. The Shadowmasters were not ones to tolerate delays.

With a soft knock, he entered the room. Immediately he knew his betrayal had not been as covert as he had thought. Greeting him was Ira “Ravenheart” Blake, standing over the bodies of the three men that, up until now, were the Shadowmasters captains who led that organization’s covert efforts in Bezantur to displace the Bezantur Thieves Guild.

“Priest,” stated Ravenheart calmly, her deathly white skin matching the promise of what was to come in the tone of her voice “I am so glad you did not miss the appointed time to join us.”

The priest’s eyes darted around, yet he kept his head held high and remained silent, searching madly for some way to distance himself from his fate that was rapidly approaching. Ravenheart, sensing his desperation, decided to toy with her victim.

“I have known for many months now. Your allegiance with the Shadowmasters of Telflamm. The betrayal of your own temple. But it was not until you were all to gather that I knew it would be the time to end the charade. Tonight was the appointed time to gather and strike,” she paused with a cold chuckle “and indeed it happened.

“You will find that the other lieutenants your allies had placed so secretively to challenge us have already joined their masters in the afterlife. There remains only one more soul yet to visit Mask in person tonight...,” Ravenheart trailed off.

The priest, still unable to speak, narrowed his eyes and began backing up out of the room, only to bump into Serene “The White Wench” standing behind him in the doorway. Turning to face her with wide eyes, the question of ‘How in the hells did she sneak up behind me so quietly?,’ was the last thought that crossed his mind before Ravenheart’s sword slid into his back and through his heart.

Looking at the final conspirator dead at her feet, the White Wench smiled “You have done well, sister. The Temple is stronger than ever now, thanks to your efforts. And I know that, as our new high priestess, you will ever seek to protect our position in Bezantur. Not as this fool.”

Ira’s eyes grew wide at the news of her promotion, and then a smile crossed her face. The High Priestess of Mask.

She liked the sound of that.


Congratulations to KTA and Ira "Ravenheart" Blake. Raveheart has joined her sister as a permanent addition to the Temple of Mask in Bezantur. Look for her at the altar to Mask in The Temple, and in special DM-run events that may include her. Those damn Shadowmasters will likely not give up so easily...