Realm of Monsters

The Central District sat at the very heart of Hollow Shade. The district was filled with officials’ buildings, such as the city council chamber, and religious temples for each of the ebon gods, along with minor temples for the pantheons of other realms.

During the day temple acolytes and city scribes ran about in an almost chaotic swarm of people. Merchants from the city and beyond would come to make trade deals with the aristocrats and their Houses. And the average commoner would come to pay respect to the gods and sometimes attend the city-wide festivals.

Yet in the dark hours of the night, the bustling Central District was quiet. Gone were acolytes and scribes, merchants and mages, nobles and commoners. There were no rattling chains of the city’s iconic undead sentinels. The district was guarded by elite soldiers and battle mages who kept silent in their night patrols. What was once one of the busiest of the seven districts had suddenly become the quietest.

At the district’s very center, looming tall over the rest of the city, stood the Ebon Tower, a round black spire of unknown material that stretched towards the sky, split in half as if a god had cleaved it in two. Twin pairs of half-circles perforated the spire, one near the top, and one at the middle. At the bottom of the tower was a grand round base of white stone that stretched outwards, forming a giant ring-shaped mound of steps of sorts.

Unalla Noir wandered through the district in the late hours of the night. The guards had at first tried to give her trouble, but when she showed them a strange ivory nameplate the captain of the guard profusely apologized and hurriedly pushed his guards in the other direction.

Nameplates were built from metallic substances and enchanted with secret spells by the city’s brown mages to denote one’s social status and legitimacy within Hollow Shade. An ivory nameplate was very rare, for it did not denote social status; it was a symbol of the city’s most elite agents, an assassin of the highest caliber, or perhaps an agent delivering a secret message of the utmost importance. No matter the case, the guards knew better than to impede the owner of an Ivory plate.

Unalla rarely showed her nameplate to anyone, but tonight’s circumstances called for it. Her Mistress Holo had disappeared without telling a soul earlier that afternoon. That was common enough for Holo, but now of all times, when war was looming over Hollow Shade, many in the Singing Willow Troupe were beginning to panic.

The Noir family and several of Holo’s mages had gone searching for her, but none had found her. This wasn’t at all unusual. Unalla had known Holo since she was a baby and had spent much of her youth following Holo around. They were as close as family. And during all that time Unalla had grown used to Holo’s disappearances.

Still, with the Monster’s presence closing in on them, Unalla couldn’t help but worry. As panic began to well up in the pit of her stomach she caught a glimmer in the corner of her eye. A ghostly light shined faintly at the bottom of the Ebon Tower. Unalla crossed the city square and made a beeline towards the tower. Votum dragged behind her small thin frame. The tip of the giant blade had cut through the sheath and made a groove in the grey bricks.