A small puff of warm air escaped Bel’yth’s lungs before being swept away by a cold breeze as she turned the last corner to her small, secret retreat – an abandoned shrine to the five moons of Taris. She paused a moment, mentally preparing herself to have a long night, before pushing aside the unhinged door that lay against the entrance.
And so she went about most of her usual routine: replacing the old flowering weeds on the altar with some fresh weeds, brushing away some of the new cobwebs, checking on the mouse infestation, etc. She did smile to herself as she pulled out the candles she had liberated from the goblins’ altar. The candles she had originally found here had long since been burned, and candles were important for shrines, right?
After lighting the candles, Bel’yth pulled her cloak tighter around herself as she sat and flipped through the old journal she kept on her person. Staring at the mysterious scrawl on the pages frustrated her to no end. She thought she would have found someone in the city who could read whatever this was by now. What languages had she not tried yet? Maybe she should have kept a list of the ones she’d tried.
A few short minutes later, Bel’yth ran out of patience and put the journal away angrily. “This is pointless,” she complained to no one in particular. Then she slowly lifted her head to the open ceiling to look at the starry sky. “I don’t like you,” she suddenly declared to the sky as she crossed her arms.
When a bolt of lightning didn’t come down from the heavens to strike her, she continued. “I don’t like whatever this is that you have me involved with. What exactly is this?” She pulled a hand out of the warmth of her cloak and stared at it as she opened and closed her fist slowly.
“This magic… this is only stuff a paladin can get. Only the stuff that’s given by the ‘gods…’ I never asked for this. It’s great, but I don’t know what you want from me! You need to get a whole lot clearer before I sign up for any kind of this ‘oath’ stuff ‘cause I don’t like owing anyone anything. And I don’t like people I owe.”
She let out one last angry puff of breath before sighing and laying down on the cot in the corner. So much for being pious. Maybe tomorrow night…