The Fifth Ring

Cyndel had not been asleep for some time though she may have appeared as such laying unmoving upon her Shiva's shoulder wondering for the longest time at what the dream had meant.

Confuse would perhaps be an understatement given the strong feelings the vision had invoked. The dark elf Cyndel Blackfar may have sisters … a dozen in fact as per the system generated backstory but Catherine Worth had no one. An only child in fact born to parents that barely acknowledged her existence beyond the occasional request for her company on the odd holiday or when their political occupations demanded some proof that the couple had actually somehow managed to copulate with one another and produce something from the union.

Not that the real world version of Catherine Worth was a prize by any stretch of the imagination. Too much of one thing and not enough of another could be the words carved in the stone that would one day mark her grave in fact.

Cyndel Blackfar however was different, Cyndel was everything the real world Catherine desperately desired to be. Bold, beautiful, and more than able to handle the worthless trash that found its way in and out of her life.

Where Catherine was the doormat of life Cyndel was a revolving door that ushered people in and out of her life.

First there was the Non-player characters responding to abuses that should never have been remembered and now … now the Player Characters were having memories of lives they had never really lived.

Simply put it didn't make any sense and yet in deepest and darkest depths of her soul Catherine knew that she'd give anything to make those memories true and to forget for all time that young woman named Catherine Worth.

The sound of breaking wood and a metal clad form dropping unto stone floor. The noise drawing a warning growl from Shiva while Cyndel herself barely giving the others a passing glance.

"Sorry everyone." The Inquisitor announced.

“The sun will be rising soon, we should be ready for the day. In the army we called it stand too. Because in the old days the enemy would attack just before dawn and this is justifiably the old days.” The Inquisitor offered calmly to the rest.

Cyndel sighed softly pushing herself upright. " No doubt something more fearsome than our Lurker friends I would imagine..."

She stopped short in surprise as a small silver ring fell from between her breasts to the floor making a sharp ringing sound.
Cyndel pausing thoughtfully collecting it carefully in hand and staring at it for the longest time.

The familiar livery of a stylized spider marking it as having been made by Drow hands. Not just any ring however but one that was known to her. One that once belong to her beloved little sister Virtess.

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