"My throat's a little itchy..."
Before Annan could finish, he was pulled into a soft embrace that left him unable to breathe. An image flashed through his mind: an insect falling into a spiderweb, struggling as the threads wound tighter.
"But you still have research..."
"I can do my research while holding little Annan."
The feverish Elf Mentor buried her face in his black hair and breathed deeply. Annan remembered holding the kitten the Golden Dragon had turned into the same way... Did it like this?
"Ah... the Tower Master... sent me..."
"The Tower Master?"
The Elf Mentor released Annan and cast a Truth Spell, silencing him just as he was about to lie.
It was hard to deceive a high-level Mage.
Before long, Annan emerged from the room with his clothes in disarray. He straightened his tousled black hair in the empty corridor, cast a Cleaning Spell on his Mage Robe, and restored his elegant noble bearing before leaving the Mage Tower. He took a carriage to the Wealth Church.
In this Year of Turmoil, when contact with the Gods had been lost, the Wealth Church was one of the few churches left unaffected, thanks to its teachings and its wealth.
Churches devoted to gentle, orderly deities rarely stirred up unrest. The Church of the Goddess of Plenty and the Church of the Earth Mother were much the same, and Breeze City happened to have only churches like these. The farther south one went, the more prosperous the cities became, and the more churches there were. According to the Bard, in southern City-States with populations of over a million, countless churches, Mystery Cults, and Religious Orders with extreme doctrines were committing atrocities in Khorne's name, all to draw the Gods' attention once more.
"Praise the Goddess of Wealth. Welcome,