9th of Tarsakh, 1351
The Temple of Tyr
It was early morning when the missive came. She'd been back for two weeks now, and already Cecilia had settled into something of a curious new routine, a morning walk through the docks. Unlike days passed, however, her peaceful contemplation was interrupted by the tinny voice of an adolescent child. The Temple of Tyr
"Cecilia, Cecilia. I've got a note for you, I does!" the boy ran over to the blonde woman, easily identifiable in her leathers of rich purple. He thrusts out a small piece of folded parchment, breath slightly ragged as though he had come in a hurry. The Lady-Knight lofted a golden brow, taking it gently and in turn wrapping the boy's grubby fingers around a handful of gold coins. Unfolding the slightly crumpled parchment, her blue eyes scanned the paprys with a sharp nod as she turned and headed for the Temple of Tyr with haste.
Upon entering the temple, Cecilia was greeted by the sight of High Priest Eldric banging on the door to the conference room, distress evident in his tone. "Ethan! Ethan!!" the mutton-chopped priest called out, stopping the Lady Knight briefly in her tracks before hurrying over.
"Your Grace," she offered, concerned in her approach. "I came as soon as I received word. Whatever is the problem?"
"My acolyte Ethan... he went into the office to fetch some scrolls. He ... cried out... and told me to run... then he barricaded the blasted door." Edric explained, shaking his head as he sat and placed it in his hands. Cecilia's brow pinched in a frown, keen gaze shifting toward the wooden door as she placed a reassuring hand on the shoulder of the High Priest. "There were some terrible noises... then quiet... I can't get the blasted door open."
Withdrawing her hand, she gives the older gentleman a small nod and paces over to the door. Her slender fingers drift along the seal of the inner door frame, before placing a palm in the wooden centre with a slight drum of her fingers. Lining up her shoulder with the weakest part of the barricade, she glances back in the Cleric's direction. With the go-ahead, the blonde focuses her gifted strength and rams herself against the door, shattering it with the impact.
A screech and the clicking of mandibles ricochets off the stone walls of the small room, the ire stirred of a number of poisonous spiders whose size mirrored that of domesticated dogs. With a leap one of the arachnids sunk it's pincers into the woman's arm, coaxing a pained growl from the woman as she drew her blade. One by one the spiders fell in a mess of toxic ichor, splattering their life force over the tiled floor. Ethan was alive. Injured and heavily poisoned, but alive.
As the acolyte was tended to by a relieved Eldric, the High Priest purging his unconscious form of toxins and invoking the blessings of Tyr to heal his wounds, Cecilia saw to the destruction of the sticky nest in the room's corner. Skewering and smashing the eggs, she confirmed the death of and cleaned up the remains of the eight-legged corpses; save for a single pincer she wrapped in a silken handkerchief for further analysis. As bid by the High Priest, Cecilia departed the temple soon after, taking news of the discovery to the temple of Ilmater.
