Lysara PoV

High Priestess Lysara stood in her chamber atop the highest spire of the Cathedral of Aetheron. The room was very well furnished, with a large bed, several candelabras, and numerous shelves filled with books and scrolls. But what stood out the most was the central table, which was covered with documents, papers, and books scattered across it.

Here, she organized the day's sermons and meticulously accounted for the earnings brought in by her "girls," a subtle enterprise that flourished under the veil of her priesthood.

As the city of Hafenstadt began to stir, the distant murmur of streets coming to life barely reached the solitude of her tower. Lysara sighed, her slender fingers deftly sorting through stacks of parchment. The obligations of crafting sermons weighed heavily on her, a tedious task she had never particularly enjoyed. Unlike other temples, which allowed their clergy leniency in public addresses, the Church of Aetheron demanded regular orations to maintain the god's prominence among the masses.

"Lireth would have been a far better deity," she mused aloud. The thought of serving Lireth, the Goddess of Magic, had crossed her mind many times. A deity less concerned with dogma and more aligned with knowledge and the arcane arts would have suited her inclinations. Yet, despite Lireth's significance in the pantheon, she couldn't rival the influence and widespread devotion commanded by Aetheron.

It was power and popularity that had guided Lysara's choice, a strategic move that afforded her control over the city's spiritual and, to some extent, secular affairs. As High Priestess, she wielded considerable influence, able to expand her ventures without fear of retribution. Clerics and paladins answered to her, their allegiance secured through carefully crafted relationships and mutual interests.

But recently, her equilibrium had been disturbed. Since the arrival of the bard, peace had eluded her grasp. The fall of the Cutpurses, a group that had discreetly funneled clientele to her establishments, had been a significant blow. Their dissolution not only disrupted the flow of patrons but also threatened the delicate balance of power within Hafenstadt's underworld.

High Priestess Lysara was gathering the last of her sermon scrolls when the sound of heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor outside her chamber.

A firm knock interrupted her thoughts.

"Lady High Priestess," a deep voice called from the other side of the heavy wooden door.

"Enter," Lysara commanded, her tone poised yet edged with impatience.

The door swung open, revealing three of her paladins. Clad in gleaming plate armor emblazoned with the radiant sun emblem of Aetheron, they exuded an aura of steadfast authority.

"Lady," the lead paladin began, his expression grave. "There's unrest in the Lower Quarter."

Lysara arched a slender eyebrow, her eyes cool as she set down the parchment. "Tell me something new," she replied wearily. "What is it this time? Have any of the girls run off? Some drug-addled vagrant brandishing a sword?"

"No, my lady," the paladin said, clearing his throat. "It's the Dusters. They have been... destroyed."

Silence hung heavy in the chamber, broken only by the distant tolling of bells. Lysara's composed facade faltered, surprise flashing across her features. "What do you mean, 'destroyed'?" she demanded, her voice sharp. "Are you certain of this information? They had over fifty men the last we checked."

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"We have confirmed it," the paladin assured her. "Two of our own just returned from the site. Their headquarters is abandoned, littered with bodies, and the underground passage has been destroyed."

"Dammit. Dammit!" Lysara's fist struck the desk, the force rattling the inkwell and sending a quill tumbling to the floor. The Dusters had been rivals, true, but they were also among her most lucrative clients. Their operations funneled wealth and influence her way, making their presence a necessary inconvenience. Losing them disrupted the delicate balance she had so carefully maintained.

"Was it that fool Maria?" she snapped, pacing behind the desk. "Or the meddling nobles?"

The paladin shifted uncomfortably, exchanging glances with his companions. "My lady," he began hesitantly, "from what we've gathered, it was the bard."

Lysara halted mid-stride, turning to face him fully. "The bard?" she echoed incredulously. "You mean the Musicians? They have, what, five people at most." Confusion knitted her brow. "Impossible. They're not strong enough to take down the Dusters. They must have had help."

Her mind raced, piecing together fragments of information. The Musicians were a fledgling group, barely a blip on the city's radar. They couldn't topple a force as formidable as the Dusters without significant backing.

"Perhaps," the paladin murmured, his gaze shifting to the floor, lacking the courage to outright disagree with his superior.

"It must have been the heiress," Lysara snapped, frustration evident in her piercing eyes. The High Priestess paced the length of her private chamber. "Maria has long sought to rid herself of the Dusters. She must have provided some rare magic or something similar to that rabble." She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "Damn it."

The paladin stepped forward cautiously. "What are your orders, my lady?" he inquired, bowing his head as he awaited her command.

Lysara halted abruptly beside an ornate wooden table strewn with maps and scrolls. "Issue the directive to expand our territory," she ordered sharply. "We will seize as much as possible before the bard can act. He commands only a handful of followers. If he desires more than a few blocks, he will have to confront us directly."

"At once, High Priestess," the paladin replied, straightening to attention.

Another paladin, who had been standing quietly by the door, took a hesitant step forward. The dim light highlighted the concern etched upon his face. "My lady," he began respectfully, "we must address the matter of the Musicians. Their influence is spreading too quickly."

Lysara turned her sharp gaze upon him. Though she agreed, a concrete plan to deal with the bard's faction still eluded her. "I concur," she acknowledged, arching a slender brow. "But do you have a proposal?"

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Perhaps... It's not a complete plan; it's merely a notion. Rumors suggest that the Church of Velkaris is investigating several kingdoms, driven by suspicions that Otherworlders may have infiltrated the minds of certain individuals."

"I've heard whispers of this as well," another paladin added, nodding thoughtfully.

The first paladin continued, growing more confident. "If we were to accuse the bard of being an Otherworlder, it could prompt an official investigation. At the very least, the Church would dispatch templars to look into the matter, thereby curtailing the bard's activities."

A slow, calculating smile spread across Lysara's lips. She pondered the idea, tapping a finger against her chin. "Excellent," she purred. "Prepare a report and send it to them immediately. Indicate our suspicions regarding both the bard and Maria von Hafenstadt. This will not only hinder his efforts but also tarnish her reputation. Even if it's unfounded, the mere presence of templars investigating will weaken the heiress's standing."

She crossed the chamber to the window, gazing out over the sprawling city. Turning back to her knights, her eyes gleamed with malice. "Spread the word," she commanded. "Let it be known that Otherworlders walk among us."

The paladins exchanged glances before bowing in unison. "As you wish, High Priestess," they responded, their voices echoing softly in the enclosed space.

"Ensure the rumors reach every corner of the city," Lysara continued, her tone icy. "We must sow the seeds of doubt and watch as our adversaries' foundations crumble beneath them."

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