Discord
Changelog
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...
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...