In darkest shadows.

[Maleth Norrum]

Maleth crept slowly across the rooftops of the sprawling city moving deftly through the shadows cast by the full moon overhead. He prefered to remain above the city streets when possible, avoiding the vigilant gaze of the city watch, or the undesireable attention of self-righteous zealots bent on cleansing the lands of those whos views differed from their own.

It was the same endless story played out in a different city. Maleth had become accustomed to blending in with such men, or avoiding them when necessary.

The clergy of the Triumverate and the Temple of Helm moved about freely within the city, ministering to the sick and aiding those who death chose to embrace in its icy grasp. The recent plague had divided the city, setting once congenial neighbors against one another. Hate and mistrust affected the land as surely as the sickness, perhaps creating a rift amongst the people that would never truly heal.

It proved a simple task to remain anonymous in light of such turmoil, and for this Maleth was pleased. It would take considerable time to fully understand the varied factions that vied for power and determine which one he would lend his support.

[Maleth Norrum]

Maleth carefully checked the placement of the traps he had set on the door the night before. Feeling confident they had not been tampered with he opened the door to his small room at the broken down Inn and collapsed on the bed.
Tossing his boots to the floor he reach over and placed his dagger and shortsword on the nightstand covering them with his cloak.

"This wretched land is full of fools."

Sighing heavily he removed his peasant garb and changed into a more fitting wardrobe.

While wandering through the Viridale he had come across an old man that wielded a shovel as a weapon. The man claimed to be a farmer of some sort, but it was clearly evident that he had been a soldier during some point in his long life.

Whatever the case, the man was quite mad now, lost in memories of long ago, clinging to a past he could not change.

If Maleth was inclined to give a damn he could have almost pitied the decrepid fool, but his company shed some light on recent events that would have otherwise eluded him.

Smiling to himself as he adjusted his equipment he opened the door, resetting the traps that were in place. Maleth had learned much this day concerning the plague, perhaps in time he would discern even more.

Melting into the shadows he made his way toward the exigo where his grand charade would continue.

[Maleth Norrum]

Sitting alone at the table of the crowded inn Maleth lifted his glass of ale and took another sip. The vintage was nothing spectacular, but it has a smooth flavor that slid lightly across his tongue.

Errantly rolling a coin across his finger he carefully calculated the information he had learned today attempting to find a way to turn it to his advantage.

The Keeper had stated that the followers of Talona were responsible for the blight that affected the outlying areas of the city. It stood to reason that they were also responsible for the plague that affected those within the city as well.

The followers of Talona were using the epedemic as a means to turn the people away from the triumverate casting a cloud of suspicion and doubt upon their motives. As it stood their scheme was working relatively well.

The followers of the Lady of Poison offered the only cure to the plague, the only solace from the constant suffering endured by the people. Could you blame the infected for turning to their clergy for aid?

Maleth had never enjoyed becoming embroiled in the machinations of religous theology. It was a dangerous line to walk, one whos path must be treaded with careful steps to avoid ruin.

Finishing his ale he flipped the spinning coin on the table and exited the Inn. There was much yet to do and the night was still young.