@alostsister said : “I see you my child. I hear you, Malice Blythrone. Come to my embrace, become dark justiciar and be among my most favored. My cherished.”
the nightsinger's voice echoing within her mind stirs a depraved sense of elation. the dark lady sees her. the depravity she's committed in her name : the tieflings, the druids who worship a false god sent to her embrace ; the goblins in celebration of a pilgrimage on behalf of a false god — an apostate who soils the holiness of her shadows. the vampire spawn she's grown so fond of dared to suggest they hold, seize, and conquer the powers.
foolish, foolish, foolish spawn — any control, any group, any power will be for the dark lady. the voice, unlike the psychonic blasts from the absolute is soothing. it's comforting. it's warm, it's cold. it's everything. it's nothing.
eyes close in reverence. no need to whisper a prayer aloud : discretion is everything. blessed nightsinger, you will is mine to exact. i shall prove my worth. shar's will shall be done, as sure as night will fall.