"The wretched followers of Umbra are finally caught in their own web of problems."
The mysterious priest was the one to start. His happiness was palpable, and it was no big secret that the Church of Night hated the Church of Umbra.
The public, of course, thought of it as a friendly rivalry, a kind of celestial marketing war, with pamphlets instead of knives. The reality was more gutter alley than temple courtyard.
Percival gave a sharp smile, one of those polite ones that always looked like it wanted to stab you in the throat. "Careful, priest. Webs are tricky things. You tug at the wrong strand, and you wake something much bigger than you."
The scarred man, Alexis, chuckled low in his chest, his voice like gravel being stirred. "That's the point, isn't it? Let it wake. Let it come. I'd rather fight something real than choke on all this theater." He patted the table, as though punctuation required a bit of tapping.
