Sybil entered the room, eyes downcast, as was proper for a guild messenger. That did not stop her from taking in the opulance around her. Last night she had worked in the dark and seen none of the beauty. Vases holding exotic plants alternated along the walls with tapestries depicting strange animals. Servants – clad in silk!- rushed to and fro, each only aware of their own task. Courtiers, made up of equal parts supplicants and brown nosers, were arrayed according to station. In the center, the Countess wiped down her sword while young boys attended a face down corpse.

Sybil’s heart beat faster. She was the enemy. The Countess was responsible for the corruption that plagued the city. Today another young woman had died to her cruel games.

Finally, Sybil found herself within the inner circle around the Countess. She flung back the hood that had concealed her features and stood proudly.

“The Sisters of the Page no longer recognize your corrupt authority. Step down or face the assembled might of the guild.”