Lady Xaniphera arrives in Ghrond

[Onyx paladin]

The Khainites had struck hard and ferociously that last couple of days. Xaniphera was glad that she hadn’t arrived yet, or else she might have been among the rows of dismembered corpses. She kept her shawl wrapped tightly about her head as she lead her caravan of supplies past the dead stacked like kindling outside the morticians structure. What was beautiful in life would be used again before being placed in the earth. The Sorceress’s Convent among others were always searching for fresh cadavers to experiment on. The morticians made plenty of money for themselves and the city. Xaniphera almost visibly recoiled at the thought of her own body being submitted to the dark magics.

Continuing on, Xaniphera reached the safe house she had been searching for. She passed by it once, signaling to the beggar outside that she wished entrance. One couldn’t be too careful here, where spies watched spies, trailed by assassins. Xaniphera had grown used to the outdoors and the unobstructed line of sight to her enemies. Once again they were veiled by walls and shadow. On the second pass in front of the safe house she slipped in, letting the caravan to be taken over by a female Druchii dressed in similar garb. Soon she would meet with others, and plan a retributive strike to prove that her beloved Cult would not go into the night quietly.


* * * * *

Her plan was simple. Convincing the others it would work was much harder. It had taken over two days to get to this point, and Xaniphera’s stomach writhed in anticipation. Standing in front of her were ten Deamonettes. They made soft cuing noises as they awaited what was to come. Weaving her spell with the grace only a Druchii could perform, Xaniphera settled a gauze over the creatures in front of her. Slowly their aspects began to change, skin growing pale and hands forming from talons. After roughly two minutes, ten perfectly shaped Druchii women stood before her. Grinning in satisfaction, Xaniphera looked for holes in the illusion. Finding none, she spoke to her minions in the dark language of Deamons,”Go to the shrine across the street. Kill everyone in there. Take their souls back into the hells you have come from. When this service is done, you will no longer be bound.”

The beautiful assassins slipped from the room into the dark street. Crossing over, they entered into the small shrine dedicated to Khaine. Not long after, screams of rage and pain began to emanate from the open doors. By the time the night watch arrived though, all trace of the murderers had vanished to a different plane, leaving only ravaged bodies behind. “Let us see how long it takes them to figure this ploy out,” Xaniphera softly said to herself, slipping into the shadows towards the next shrine.