The black clad figure was now standing across the street from the two women. They seemed to either not notice him or didn't care to glance in his direction. It was no worry to him, for he was used to being unnoticed. They were discussing flowers and herbs - or at least beginning to. One was an outsider, the other native. They were both kind at heart, or at least kind on the surface of their heart. No one but oneself had any inclination of the darkness within, the most any can know is the surface. Legion existed to change that simple fact of life. His sole purpose was to reveal the darkness within the hearts of the sane, and reveal the light within the minds of the mad.

He slowly began to walk towards the pair again, his movements were so fluid that he appeared to float across the ground, his cloak swishing neatly in the air around him. His hands were buried in the pockets at his hips and his wide brimmed hat tilted forward so to cast a shadow over his face, obscuring his features. As he drew near the air took on a slight chill, noticeable only by the myriad of tiny hairs on ones back that stand suddenly and uncontrollably on end when the man was near.

"Hello." His voice severed the air like a guillotine severs heads, "I'm new here, can either of you direct me to where I may find the local temples?"

A short pudgy woman with a satchel of gold coins stepped into a decrepit warehouse with questionable intentions. Sitting in the lotus position in the solitary beam of light cast from a hole in the ceiling was a hooded figure dressed in white.

"I have the earnings my liege." She tossed the satchel onto the floor just beyond the glowing aura. She knelt on one knee and bowed her head before the man.

"What's the word on the street about the priest?" The man's voice was soft yet fearsome.

"Larcius was his name, devout to Palus. Expectation was for him to become the next High Cleric. He's been excommunicated by the church. His head still hangs atop the statute's spear as a reminder against the dark arts. There is no reason to believe that anyone knew of our infiltration into the temple, and with Larcius dead - the only one who had any reason for suspicion has been removed. The general public is nervous, Palus has the strongest religious following in this city - the rule with an Iron fist holding key positions in all levels of the social structure. We must strike quickly before the stabilize their control."

"We will strike when it is in the will of the Mother. For now I want you to investigate Larcius. I sense something is amiss."

The woman stood slowly and bowed before leaving without another word.

On the other side of the village, a woman sat down at a bakery with a small vial in her hand. Placing an order for a pastry she raised the vial to her lips and drank back the liquid. When her pastry arrived she was slumped over in her seat, cold and stiff.

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