by Kate Rosenberger

Created on: July 07, 2008

Dhillon stepped out of her room and into the shadows that clung to the balcony outside. Several house guards roamed the grounds below. It was becoming more and more difficult to sneak off of her family's estate. Dhillon sighed and pulled the hood up on her cloak. She wrapped the black fabric around her body to conceal the sword that hung at her waist. If she was caught by her father, her life at Ferrow Estate would be over. If she stood up the high priestess her life would be over.

Dhillon vaulted over the balcony and landed silently between two bushes. The minutes ticked by but no opening presented itself. The guards were uncharacteristically vigilant tonight. She swore under her breath and muttered a spell. Now invisible, she stepped out of the bushes and crept across the grass. She easily cleared the gate and hurried down the street toward The Clenched Fist Inn.

The streets were deserted and she only encountered a couple of beggars and a carriage. Dhillon ducked into the alley next to the inn and willed her spell to dissipate. She pulled her head farther into the hood and tugged a black velvet mask over her face. The mask would attract unwanted attention but she couldn't risk being recognized. Not that anyone she knew would frequent a dive like The Fist. She entered the inn and her senses were assaulted by sight, noise, and smell. None of them were good. A group of bards played and sang rowdy music in one corner. Four goblins sat yelling at each other loudly in another. Some sailors were tossing knives in the back. Couples and thieves skirted in and out of the shadows.

Dhillon wondered what her family would say if they could see her now. In many ways, Dhillon felt more at home here than at the Ferrow Estate. She was the youngest, often forgotten, of seven children. Her older sister was the heir. Her brothers, well they were men and could do no wrong in her father's eyes. Lady Ferrow only cared about dresses. Lord Ferrow only cared about business and politics. Her thoughts were interrupted by the approach of a serving girl in a cheap, revealing gown. "Help ya missy?"

"The Priestess is expecting me," Dhillon said.

"Straight back, last door." The girl bounced away leaving behind a cloud of cheap perfume. Dhillon curled her lips in disgust and slipped through the crowd to the back. She was almost there when she felt something brush against her hip. Dhillon thrust her hand out and felt her fingers close on a tiny hand. She pulled back hard and sent the small figure

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