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Truth paced the corridors of his hidden house, trying to determine his next course of action. His life so far had revolved around deceit. He wasn't about to let his personal image go to waste.

Charity had talked. A few people knew her identity, and that was a few too many. She had to be removed from the picture. The assassin had failed, and Truth had gladly put him to death for his failure. The betrayer was still out there.

A knock on his front door halted Truth in his steps. Daring not to speak, he raised his hood over his face and peered through a crack in his door. It was his apprentice, the Christening.

He opened the door slightly and retreated to the shadows. By the time the door was open, he was nowhere to be seen. Christening grinned below his hood and began to speak.

"I have done as you asked, master."
Truth closed his eyes and began to channel his thoughts. You have spoken to the new assassin?
"Yes my lord. He will not do the job."
Truth cursed under his breath. Unreliable. Very well, I have another way. She is a betrayer, not just to me, but to all. I think this would work.
"What is it, master?"
Truth walked from the shadows, pulling his hood lower over his face. He picked up a stack of parchments from a nearby table and handed them to Christening. Your first job as my new apprentice... is to post these around the lands. Hopefully this will bring an end to this nonsense.
Christening read the top parchment. It was a poster.

Attention all inhabitants of Sosaria.
The half-elf Isil Narmolanya is hereby condemned for arrest and/or execution by any and all forms of authority, for the crimes listed below. It then listed more than twenty crimes, most of which Christening doubted she actually committed. It resumed with a signature. If she is captured and imprisoned, respond to this poster in Skara Brae, with a way to contact you. We will recover this criminal and give her the sentence she deserves.

"Very crudely written," Christening stated. "I don't think anyone will pay it any mind."
Do not doubt me, apprentice. I have more contact than you could imagine.
"I can imagine fairly well. This won't work. We need to do this ourselves."
Do not question my authority.
Christening's eyes narrowed. "I'm not questioning it anymore. I'm throwing it out the window. You are weak, unworthy." Truth glowered. "I've been your pawn for long enough, and we have gotten nowhere. I've posted your messages across the realms, I've done your bidding... and we have nothing to show for it." He dropped the stack of parchments, which scattered across the floor.

Do not think to betray me, Christening.
"Why not? You couldn't even dispose of the last person who betrayed you."
Truth had withstood this for long enough. He lowered his hood, and revealed his piercing black eyes and bald, burned head. Christening lowered his hood as well. His flowing golden hair and emerald green eyes reflected what little light there was in the room. Truth threw his right palm up at Christening, chanting words in the Gargish tongue. His eyes widened as nothing happened.
"As I said. You are weak, master. This is Ilshenar. This is my land." He produced a long, straight, and razor-sharp katana. "You and your false magicks are no longer welcome here."

In a lightning-quick movement, Truth produced a dagger. "It seems to be a time for betrayals from all loyalties, doesn't it?" he asked in his raspy, failing voice. Christening nodded briskly. "Very well. Have it your way." Without effort, Truth vanished, and reappeared behind Christening. He quickly put the dagger to his apprentice's throat. "I told you before... you sacrificed your life of the arcane for purity and chivalry. Look where it's gotten you." He began to draw the blade along the traitor's neck. In his pleasure of victory, he failed to realize that his arm would not move.

Christening broke free of Truth's hold and flared at him with his eyes, which were now glowing a fiery orange. With one swift, clean movement, severed the old man's arm between the shoulder and elbow. Truth screamed in pain and fell to his knees "Traitor..." he spoke. Christening glared with his ice-cold eyes at the man before him. He drew his hood back over his face, continuing his piercing gaze. He spoke one word.

"Unworthy."

With a clean motion, he severed the old man's head.

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Christening paced the corridors of his new house, trying to determine his next course of action. A knock on his front door halted him in his steps. He drew his hood over his face and peered through a crack in his door. It was his recruit. He opened the door and greeted the man. The guest looked past Christening at the body on the floor. "Who is that?" he asked.

Christening smiled. "Just another unworthy soul who tried to take over the world." His eyes lingered over the recruit's covered face. "Some people are unfit to rule, don't you think?"
The recruit looked at Christening. He couldn't recognize the face beneath the hood. "Is that... the Truth?"
Christening smiled. "Of course not. That was the betrayer, Christening. I am the Truth."

The recruit looked away. He didn't want to risk seeing the man's face.

"Do not worry. His failure has been a revelation to me," the 'Truth' spoke. He put his hand on the recruits shoulder. "I have chosen you as my confidant."
The recruit looked up and grinned. "Thank you, my lord."
'Truth' looked at his new partner. "Your first assignment is to post these parchments across Britannia. Maybe this will help us dispose of our original betrayer."
The Recruit nodded. "It will be done," he replied, and left.

Christening sat down in his new home. He grinned at the position he had just taken up, and began to contemplate the name. "Truth," he muttered. "Not a bad name..."

[Isil Narmolanya]

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Walking through Cove on a dark afternoon, Isil stumbles across a rather peculiar parchment

"What's this?" she thinks to herself.

Slowly reading the list of crimes, she says each one aloud

Murder..
Kidnapping...
Torture...
Necrophelia...

"Since when?"

The list goes on and on
Vandalizm...

Hmmm, this one knows me well.. almost too well.

She pulls down the parchment, and puts it into her satchel. Letting out a long sigh, she mounts her dark steed, and recalls off.
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Stopped by January 2022, technically on the discord server.