Emperor Night

Zigarete stood surrounded by the ruins of Sidim. One of the reasons an inquisitor wore black was to hide the ash stains from the cities she had torched, one of the reasons they wore red was to conceal the blood that covered them. Neither did a very good job. The elimination of a whole city was an infrequent occurrence, especially since the end of the Imperial conquest, but if anyone had it coming to them, it was the Cult of Sisters in Sidim. Too long had they been above reproach, hidden behind the memory of the former queen, her good reputation protecting them from persecution. But no amount of clout was going to protect the traitorous cult from the fact that they aided in the escape of a known Sorcerer. They had tried to lock Zigarete and her group in the catacombs and they had almost succeeded in trapping them down there, but unluckily for them, Zigarete and her ruthless Tracker, had other ideas.

Initially, the stone doors that locked Zigarete's group in looked to be impassable, no amount of leverage or strength of swing would make the seal budge. The futility of their attempts didn't stop Captain Garth and his lackeys from trying for several hours to chisel away at the thick stone slab. Magical mechanisms on the entrance kept the facility lockdown from the outside. However, movement within the catacombs was not as restrictive, they could still go where they wished within the facility, but most of the controls that had operated the various chambers and torture devices were unresponsive. Zigarete explored the labyrinth of tunnels searching for an alternate exit. She had gotten within the edge of her wits before she had found the solution to her current predicament. A priestess-protector named Sala, beset by her cult's own creations. Zigarete cut those beastial creations down and pried the well-used woman from their grasp. She was given a simple choice, open the entrance to the sacred catacombs and be spared the coming wrath, or don't, and have that coming wrath enacted upon her now. She opted for the former.

From there the Tracker went to work, setting ablaze everything in sight. Zigarete was always unnerved by the wicked smile that adorned the Tracker's face when he was in the midst of pillaging. It was one of the reasons why she had originally left her ex-lover, that and the stigma of being in a relationship with a lowly faen. Zigarete also did her part in destroying Sidim, but she took nowhere near as much pŀėȧsurė from it. It was just a job to her, something that she had to do for the good of the Empire. Sometimes things need to be destroyed to be made stronger.

Many cultists lay dead at the end of their rampage. Many more bound up in chains. She was careful not to harm the three insolent leaders of the Cult of Sisters, their punishment was to be dictated by Emperor Tarthis himself. A moment of uncertainty passed in Zigarete's mind. How would the Emperor see the scouring of his beloved Sidim? But the Tracker guaranteed that he could explain to Tarthis the necessity of their actions. "His hate for Sorcerer's would outweigh his love for his former queen." Zigarete hoped to the Holy Goddess that he was right.

The destruction of Sidim felt good. But it didn't take away from the humiliation of being outwitted by the Sorcerer once again. Worse yet, the Sorcerer had stolen their supplies and their mounts. Zigarete would have to wait for reinforcements before continuing her pursuit; there was no way that they could catch up to a small group on forrin-back without their own mounts. The Tracker had other ideas. Despite Zigarete's protests, he had left immediately after the destruction of Sidim had been completed. Zigarete imagined that he took the Sorcerer's escape as a personal slight to his character. She was even tempted to join him and leave Garth and his complacent Cliffside guard to deal with the aftermath of their actions but she knew that if they were to have any hope of tracking down this fugitive, they would need to turn their search into an Empire-wide manhunt. She couldn't leave that kind of planning to those buffoons.

This man, Jonn, if that name he had given upon exiting Cliffside was even his real name, must have been a Sorcerer of highly mastered power and skill, supremely confident in his magical abilities. How else could he have been able to avoid capture from right within their grasp.. The Empire could not afford another Dread Sorcerer like Fade to rise to power.