Deep in the forest, far from the Void Defense Society's searching, a slender figure in a dusty cloak crouched beside a stream. In that water, she washed black ichor and red blood from her hands. The latter… was not her own.
Sevra of the Shadow Whisker Sorority examined her reflection in the nearly still, now murky water. A small pouch at her waist held the item she'd retrieved from the caravan's wreckage. Recovered only hours after the Voidlings descended upon it, which had been well over a day ago by now.
The orders from the Guild itself had been clear: trace the path of the smuggler caravan, intercept if possible, and retrieve any artifacts they were sneaking through without being detected. At the time of getting these commands, she hadn't known much more than that. She hardly even knew how her Sisters had even stumbled upon the shady movement.
