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[Merci d'Rue]

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Merci stared in the Mirror, her white dress flowing around her, affixing her cape she clutched her book of Chivalry in her hand and raised the other hand, torch ensconced high.

It was time for the processional....

The group of monks and nuns made their way, virtuosly to the tavern their candles and torches held aloft, shining in the night like beacons of light.

So the charity benefit and ensuing celebration began. The night gained momentum, locals appearing their heads peeking in the tavern doors curiously and soon joining in the festivities...

The poor orphans this benefit would bring such happiness...

Virtous Magdalen ran the festivities and as the group drank the night moved wildly out of control, confusion setting in some people even seeing doubles. Surely to much imbibing would cause such delusions.

Glimpses of could that be Fong? No no he was not in attendance was he? Was that Talon Skyfire? Another! Two? And what of the woman in red with her odd orcish accent poor dear perhaps a speech impediment... Confusion filled the young nuns minds...

So lonely in the abbey, so lonely...

Yet as the clocked tolled its ominous hour the guests began to decrease in numbers, the nuns dissapearing. What trickery was this? The castle not far from the tavern was suddenly filled with the conclave, their white nuns clothing and brown monks robes cast aside. To laugh and claim wildly as their own having snuck their way into the heart of Sanctus.

So for virtue and truth! The battle ensued...
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May destiny guide you...