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*pLOp* A tendril of opaque goo dropped onto
the High Lady's prone body. She shuddered
slightly turning onto her side. Slowly, the slime
leaked from the ceiling onto her prone form.
Eyes suddenly opened and she screamed. Or
tried to. The goo quickly covered her face and
halted the vain attempt to alert the guard. She
suffered agony as the slime melted her body. The next morning,
everyone wondered why the Lady Drusilla seemed so happy...
the next week, everyone in the fortress was dead.
Jared stepped into the tavern. Full of purpose, he approached a
booth at the rear. Eyes looked up in recognition. "So, I take it
they are all dead?" a man asked. "Yes," Jared replied. "Do you
have my pay?" Anotherhanded the assassin a heavy pouch. He
knew that every single cutpiece would be there. Few did not pay
his fee. Those that did were dead. Silently, he walked out of the
tavern and made his way homeward. In his lair, he stared into a
mirror. His 'face' began to run in amorphous streams revealing his
true visage. That of a guileless, young man.
A SCHOLAR'S NOTE
It is not known how many died at the assassin's
hand. However, we do know that Jared belongs to
a breed of changlings capable of transforming into
any form. I myself have never encountered any of these
beings although Jared alone substantiates their
presence in Alanthia. Past studies by other scholars
adhere to the belief that Jared is a an ardent student
of the Places in Between. Case studies reveal that he
communes with spirits on a regular basis. It is in
these same journals where we find that Jared considers
his actions neither good or evil. Simply serving the
balance between order and chaos. The veil of time still
obscures much we know of this secretive figure.
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