The high mountain passes was perhaps the strangest of places to find this place. A temple to the god of murder set far from the world of the men whom the religion claimed as their right. Few understood this temple though or its purpose. Here was where they sent those to be elevated. Here they would commune with Bhaal and compete for their place. Bhaal would only elevate one in his service. There were others present, low level priests and priestesses there to serve those Champions of Bhaal. That was the goal of the far away temple. It was the proving grounds. Here a simple acolyte could become Champion and wage the war of Bhaal on the bitch herself. How strange that it seemed so abandoned. The latest candidates had arrived recently, been cleansed in blood and sanctified for the tournaments against one another. Blood on the floor, and splashed along the walls but no bodies. The place seemed grey, a shadow less lightless grey as though they had been called elsewhere. A commotion of sounds echoed through the hallways and corridors from time to time. Screams of men, shrieks of women and a clatter of weapons as they struck what could only be stone. A scattering of weapons were to be found if she looked...the sounds could be the dropping of those weapons...listen closer Grace...were those real words or had the wind spoken. Perhaps it was just her own thoughts running rampant" Cautious, wary steps brought her forth into the high mountains. Wary of her surroundings, she studied the area before stepping into the court yard of evil. The smell of iron flooded her nostrils as she stepped around rivers of crimson. Her gaze drifted to the gaping mouth of the temple, eyes wide in curiosity. Wary of her steps, she moves piece by piece of broken step to the creaking wooden door. Hands smoothed over the wall when she stood at the opening, her lips parted and she gaped, uncertain of what she was seeing. Moving towards the center of the temple she paused, her frame crouching and fingers dipping into blood. The hood of her cloak shrouded her face as she swept her fingers along the blood, studying the pigment against her skin. Leaning towards her hand she sniffed and shook her hand off, eventually wiping the blood on her pant leg. Drawing arrow and raising bow, she proceeded on, feet not as silent and fluid as she hoped they would be. Gates stood unmanned dangers that would have once been unseen were draped with the rags of former robes. Acolyte's and servant's garb fluttered in the draft of this place. She would recognize the scene it so similarly matched the one she had walked into before, save for the shouts of the living. The closer she got to the temple the more color would be returning to this place. Shouts from within could be heard, the first actual words she would have understood. What are you? What do you want with me" Bhaal will feast upon your bones!!! An audible popping and more shrieks of pain. Once again she would be visited by that soft voice, except now it seemed to emanate from the growing shadows. High Acolyte...Champion' Nothing...a plaything that your god feeds to me and laughs over as he cowers in his halls. The scene within once she arrived, one lone figure hood pulled back to reveal wispy light brown curls and a robe that seemed to suck the color out of the room. A priest held to the altar by light and shadow around the Cella were more shadow and light bound forms priests who would serve...would elevate this one when his time came. If she stood in the intercolumniations she would find a shot at his vulnerable back. He seemed unaware of her presence as of yet. A stop in blood stained steps doesn't mean her journey into the room ends. Her eyes fix, settling on the scene as arrow and bow are poised. The flutter of garb, of breath, of fear in the priest within the room had her in a steady silence. Still her breath carried. Small breaths pushed from her nostrils and lips. Still she seemed more curious than malicious. Staring towards the pedestal she lowered her arrow. One step drew her in as near perfect lips parted to gape in admiration. The only hope was thus, that he didn't see her as a coming victim. He didn't move though his cloak seemed to shift aside and push away the shadows and the light. A pale hand reached forward to cruelly caress the face of the man on the altar. "You see" Even now the possibility of life and death hang in the balance for you. One hand holds certain death, the other a saving stroke from the unseen. But she doesn't know yet does she?" His hand reached within the robes of the priest and gave a yank to something upon his neck. "An heirloom perhaps" The taking of a trophy' I know you for who you are, but will she recognize this simple piece of jewelry?" He held it dangling aside the tiny heart pendant opened to reveal pictures within. It was too far away too tiny to see. If she were truly curious she would need to move much closer. She did move closer. Step after step was cautious though. Raising her bow and arrow up, she searched the corners, nooks, and crannies. She was ready in case there was more waiting, but there wouldn't be. Slowly she came to a stop beside the altar as if she was drawn there. The heart shaped pendant was gazed at, her head tilting to the side, shifting her hood to hide her lower face. Her eyes turned up, locking on him, trying to study his face. Curiosity would be the end of her and nothing would bring her back, unlike the pussy cat. Even as she passed them they died, the spray of their passing finding flesh, and staining her cloaked face. He still held his place as though trying not to intimidate she who held his life in her hands. The man on the altar had fallen into whimpers his arms were so obviously pulled from shoulders. "You nearly escaped me...but this was something that called to me. It was told to me in the deep places what to look for and where to find it. I waited...months I waited for birth that I might fulfill this first act. To free the world of you." How close before she sees the faces within...her own, and her sister so recently killed" The faces were young, that of a much happier age. When she saw the intricate detail of the locket, she knew its owner at once. Fingers reached out warily, nearly trembling to take it in hand. When she pulled it from the man's hands, she looked from him to the priest he held. Cold was the stare that he was given as she brought the locket to her heart. Stepping back, she readied her bow and arrow again before she whispered softly. "It was him....he was the one who killed her?" Her voice didn't tremble, it just stared, judging the 'holy' man. The bite of the chain as it tore from his hand sent a thrill up his arm. "Do you know this place" Do you know what it means" This place is for them to send their best and brightest. To send those who have committed great deeds in the name of Bhaal. The killing of the Bearer perhaps would qualify?" Amber eyes, so yellow they seemed to glow with their own light. "Your mother was kind to me in my infancy, almost I could call you sister, but you are far more aren't you?" He stepped back from the altar, back from her. "You will need to choose. One of us will not leave here." Now the cloak fully opened to her the chest beneath bare and pale as though even all that light could never brown him. What would he say when she didn't even let a heart beat pass before she aimed and released the arrow into the priest's eye' There she was standing before him, her eyes locked with his while she pursed her lips. "There was never any choice to be made." What would he do then" He showed how easily he could spill blood. Standing there, she reached and held out the locket to him, as if it was something she wanted close, but not too close, as if it could burn her. Her chin held high, defiant and proud despite how much mystery she still saw within the world. He took back the heart, almost a symbolic transfer between the two. His hand disappeared inside the cloak and came back empty. "The crusade has only yet begun Grace. You shall know pain before the ending. You must go from this place I will come to you. Where water and air meet with stone and fire, a hearts call is all I need to find you." That emptied hand moved forward and slowly slid across what was exposed of her bloodied cheek. His tracing thumb came away red. "Your eyes are the first to witness, your voice shall be the first to proclaim.? That violent maelstrom of light and shadow tore out of him normalizing the hues of the temple, but it was now void of something else. He was gone, the only thing remaining to tell her that he had been real was the touch she still felt on her skin and the carnage that he left in his wake. From above the statue of Bhaal looked down unconcerned, as though unaware of what had happened or perhaps ignoring in his impotence to stop it.

-composed in live play between IAm and GWG-