The cultist made sure to wear more normal clothing when in Silvermoon, her Master paid her well to make sure when he did not return that certain arrangements were in place and his soul shard was kept in a safe place with his remaining daughter. However, when she was brought to her half-sister, it put a hold on the original plan. She was to retrieve the shard and take it to the contact at the Apothecary Society. Now she needed to wait and make sure she could gain access, but the home was warded well, the Priest that resided with her also had ties to the Society from her information which made things more difficult.
Weeks passed before an opportunity presented itself, she had made mental notes of Lady Talibah’s coming and goings as well as Lady Karomana’s who was normally escorted, she was less accessible, but the diplomat was quite different and preferred to so about things on her own. It was mid morning, the box the Lady held was one familiar to her, and it held the shard. A wry grin fell upon the hooded woman’s face and she made haste to follow. En route behind she made sure she had what was needed if she had to ambush the Lady, however when the destination was reached she realized it would be far from necessary, now she had to wait.
“How predictable.” The cultist mouthed as she watched Lady Talibah toss the gilded box into the Nether. She watched the noblewoman turn to leave without even waiting to see if the box fell into the void, her dark eyes caught a glimpse of her master’s mark between the woman’s shoulders, and she smirked knowing his vengeance would come full circle.
Now to retrieve what she came for, the box landed on a floating rock not too far below where the Lady threw it, with some rope from her pack she walked to the ledge the Lady was at and secured one end to a piece of rock that jutted out and the other about her waist then swung down to the floating rock below. In one fluid motion she picked up the box and secured it before climbing back up. Now to Undercity and to meet her contact, they would have much work to do to bring her Master back.
The Forsaken wrung his hands in anticipation. The correspondence he received was brief and vague yet the sense of urgency had him on edge. He paced the floor of the dimly lit room as he awaited the arrival of word.
Gloinar had held is reservations when he was first contacted long ago by a servant. He was told one day his service, and his loyalty, would be required. Coins had exchanged hands and a slow trickle of them had continued to make their way to his boney fingers still, but it never seemed to be enough.
Gloinar wanted more. He wanted more than just coins; he wanted the respect and adoration of his peers. He wanted his fellow members of the Apothecary Society to finally acknowledge him as one of their equals; No, not equal but as their better. He wanted his due and with deals he had struck long ago, he knew he could twist the arrangement to get exactly what he wanted.
The cultist swiftly made her way through the tunnels of Undercity. She pulled her cloak tight as not to allow the hood to fly back, but held a box beneath the long cloak tighter. The discovery of her identity and her affiliations where a minor thing in contrast to what she now carried within her arms, a second chance. A slight grin graced the corners of her mouth as she thought of all the possibilities the box held for her but first, she needed to speak with her contact in this cesspool of a city.