Spies

     The tall thin priest looked down at her companions image inside the speaking stones.  The two of them could only use the speaking stones after very specific and time consuming rites. The stones themselves were made out of highly polished majical obsidian. They had to not only be large enough, about the size of a Oristani's head, but also had to be absolutely and completely flawless. To say the least flawless stones of that size were very rare so there were only a very limited number of them anywhere in the world. In addition to the rarity of the material, the spell needed to use them was incredibly difficult and time consuming. Not to mention that the spell they used, like all of their spells, could only be used in the dark of the moons. A very rare and short living time when both moons were in their dark phase at the same time. Something that only happened a few times a year.

     The spells that they used were long forgotten by the majority of Ardu majic users. Only a select few even remembered that their Master existed. And even fewer would have known the type of majic used by their Masters devotees. And to the best of the devotees knowledge only their Master actually knew how those spells were done. That made using the majic of their Master a bit safer since that was who taught them the use of it, but it was still dangerous to use. At least those they were working against knew nothing of their existence or what to look for majically to find them. That gave the two a bit of comfort when they used their Masters majic. Nonetheless it wasn't something they would have done often even if the spell had allowed it.

     The party in question was headed to the Adikha Yunavarasiti and they had to fail. Their Master was adamant about that fact. If the party succeeded their Masters plan would fail. A failure that was unthinkable to the two doing the planning. Their Master was uncompromising to say the least and all powerful in their world. Even if the rest of the world was unaware of their Master's plans. Their Master was a terrifying being and fully capable of removing them from existence if they failed their mission. But if they succeeded they would be the most beloved of their Master and rule over all others. The reward was worth any risk that they took. 

    If they hadn't needed to be concerned with discovery before the culmination of their Masters plans, they would have been able to move more freely. But their Master didn't currently control the councils of the mighty in most of the lands of Ardu so caution was required. If they were discovered by their Masters enemies as devotees of their Master then their punishment would be bad. Nothing near as bad as failing their Master but still nothing to be courted.

     The tall thin devotee looked into the blood red image of her co-conspirator centered in the glowing orb. She knew that her fellow devotee saw her in the same way. The distorted whisper that she heard when her fellow spoke was chilling to hear. when she had first cast this particular spell she had thought that whoever she was communicating with actually sounded like that. She had long since learned that like the blood red coloring it was just an effect of the spell. It was still disconcerting though and always ran a chill up her spine whenever she heard it. Although she had never, not even the first time she'd cast the spell, allowed anyone to know that it did so.

     The room that she was in was one of the deepest and, as far as anyone else knew, unused rooms in the basement of a nearby business. It was dark and dusty at the best of times and she had worked hard to make sure she was the only one who ever entered this room. She was in a position of influence in her profession and intended to keep it that way. Because of her actions almost no one even remembered that this particular room even existed anymore. Which was exactly how she like it. She was also aware that her fellow devotee had secured his room as well as she had if in a different way. Actually she had no idea what method he had used to make sure his work room was secure but she knew that it was. No one would use the Masters majic someplace that others could find.

     The only people that knew about her special work room were those who would never speak of it to anyone. Not because she trusted them, she trusted no one. But because they would never live to see anyone to speak to. Not that all of them died, actually the majority of them didn't. But what was left after her work would never be able to speak to anyone again. At least not in any way that others would understand. Take for example the spell she had just cast to use the speaking stone. It required a sacrifice. Not of a life, that was easy to do, no it required the sacrifice of a mind and voice. When the spell was done her victim would be voiceless and mindless. Just one more poor unfortunate that wondered the streets until found and brought to a temple. Or died because they didn't have the intelligence to care for themselves in even the most basic ways.

    The tall devotee actually enjoyed when she found these unfortunates. It gave her a thrill to bring them to one of the many temples around her home city. Everyone thought she was so kind an generous to help her victims when all along she was the cause of their condition. One that was incurable because there was no longer anything to think with. All that was left was the most basic of instincts and some motor skills. So finding and, apparently, helping them was almost as pleasurable as causing the damage in the first place.