Exton

"Fool! You were seen!" Nathlyn backhands the neophyte twice across the face, splitting his lip and bringing blood. His eyes gleam at the sight.

"Lord Nathlyn, I - "

"Silence, wretch." Nathlyn's voice is a serpentine hiss. "Offer excuses for your incompetence and I tear the living heart from your body here and now, as an offering to our Lady."

The Drow do not blanch, but stark terror is evident in the man's eyes. He has seen Nathlyn do this, more than once. "I crave forgiveness, Lord."

"I am no god to grant you absolution. Upon our return, you will go to the sanctuary and present yourself to our Lady. Crave her pardon, wretch." He smiles cruelly. "It may even be that she will grant it."