A letter was left upon the steps of the Sanctuary,addressed to the Sisterhood of the Scathatch and sealed in red wax, the moon and dagger pressed into it. it read:

Dearest Sisters of the Scathatch,

The Nightblades have called a halt to any agressive actions toward your order. We hereby guarantee your protection in WestEnd. We realize this sudden change of heart may come as a shock, though we hope you will allow for a peaceful resolution. The doors of the Nighthalls are open.

Deepest Regrets,

Pidane Menuine

~*The Nightblades*~

Rae sat on the edge of the table as Isuelt stalked in looking like a cat that had just been dunked into a barrel of water. Repeatedly. Perhaps not in form, but the fact that one could almost see steam rising out of her Sister's ears from the barely-constrained fury lent itself well to the comparison.

The Drowess had been casually trimming her fingernails with a long mithril dagger when Isuelt came in, and after the letter had been shown and the explanations made"

Umrae'diira was new, but she was still a Sister of Scathach. She felt the defilement of the Sanctuary as keenly as the rest, even if hearing it only after the fact. A man had dared to do such a thing"

To this....Umrae'diira's black lips only pulled up into a smirk. "Do they naut know, Sister-mine, that dropping to their knees to beg for mercy only offers height advantage to smash in the skull?"