The Moldy Cellar

Elena could not believe that she had managed to let the time get away from her. She was usually so punctual when it came to meetings and tasks. Today, though, she had decided to visit the southern slums of Blackdawn, in order to give out alms, blessings, and help wherever she was able---Athika, the goddess of love, taught that all are to care and love their fellow creatures, after all. Somehow, midst all the disease, filth, and crime, she had lost track of the time of day, and now night was creeping in.

She was not scared---no, that wasn't it---she was just uncomfortable here. The slums were, of course, dirty. And smelly. How could people choose to live like this? They did need her help; if even a little gentle, loving encouragement could convince them to better their lives and maybe take a mop and a broom to this whole district, then surely the world would be a better place.

She longed for her nice, warm bed in her cozy room at the great Temple of Athika. The priestesses' rooms were notoriously luxurious; each had a charming fireplace, as well as silk pillows and sheets in deep, passionate reds and purples. "Entertaining" company was a frequent role of the priestesses, so the living spaces had to be warm, comfortable, inviting, and soft.

Not like this district, and not like this place: a rickety tavern called "The Moldy Cellar". Elena had nearly tripped over the rotting threshold and had stubbed her foot. Her little sandals, usually a perfect combination of attractive and functional, were proving to be something of a liability on these slimy streets. She had collected herself and continued through the doorway.

Inside, there were a number of people---many looked half-dead, and most of the men looked terribly uninteresting. Still, within minutes of arriving Elena was gliding through the tavern, chatting with this person and that one.

But the time had caught up to her. She had been out and about all day, and she was tired. She worried that someone would notice her tired eyes and little yawns. She could no longer focus easily on the conversations. Her usual charm and sexuality had faded to a minimum. Now she just wanted to get home.

She started for the door.

And then this guy, Coren, had to show up.