The lock on the door was simple enough. Immediately upon entering the room it was apparent the poison had done it’s job. I stepped over the young man sprawled on the floor and quickly searched his travel gear. Among the various trinkets and baubles I found a bundle of letters. Out of curiosity, I began to peruse them. They were mostly letters from various family members, but a few were quite interesting. Apparently my mark had been corresponding with an order of monks, and carried with him an invitation to train with them.
I smiled to myself as an idea struck me. I stuffed the letters back in the pack and strapped it on. I doused the room with oil I had picked up from a Thayan several towns back, making sure I soaked the body particularly well. Two strikes of my flint and the room was ablaze.
As the sun began to rise over the road, I looked back with a chuckle at the black smoke rising into the air. I then began my journey to my newest target, with my new gear and new identity in tow.
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As the monastery doors swung open, I offered the letter of invitation with a smile. I was ushered in and shown my sleeping quarters, before being introduced to the “Master”. He was old and appeared quite feeble, but I soon learned he had an unnatural grace and could strike deceivingly quick.
Being monks, there was little of value to steal. But the training did turn out to be more valuable than anything I had stolen before. But despite their skill at unarmed combat, they proved to be fools. My credentials were never questioned, and I trained with them for many months. I gritted my teeth, endured their foolishness, and bided my time.
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I could take no more of the Fool’s rantings, going on and on about Lathander and Sune and Selune. Saying the light will eventually destroy the darkness, and blah-blah-blah. But it was my turn to fix the evening meal, and I still had my vial of poison. It was time to move on.
The Order of the Sun Soul, or at least a branch of it, would know loss that day.
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At last! The City of Splendors. Waterdeep. Finally I will be able to leave the sunlight behind forever. Through Undermountain I will enter Her realm. The lands of Shadow on this world. The fabled Underdark!
Praise the Mistress of the Night, the Lady of Loss, the Dark Goddess!
*the day of the expedition, the author pays three street urchins to deliver copies of his journal to the local churches of Lathander, Sune, and Selune, so that they may know Loss at the hands of one of Shar’s servants.*