And when they left, they'd go out that door, right next to her. She half entertained the idea of a confrontation; after all, they'd tried to hide this from her. Well, Annlyn had. But a confrontation would prove that she knew. And if Annlyn knew that, she'd be watched. Getting out of here would become all too difficult then. Annlyn had plenty of kinah, and knew all the right people, that combination would put an assassin on her back mane faster than Moriah could say boo. It was going to be difficult enough…

Annlyn's attention was still firmly planted on Balder, so Moriah took a deep breath and moved quickly out of her view, up the stairs, and vanished into the safest place possible… Rasmus's rooms. Just to be careful, she slid her bag, and finally herself, under his bed and waited. And waited.

She knew from experience that the house was old, and sturdy… noises didn't carry at all from the ground floor. She waited until the pale light dimmed into twilight before she took a deep breath and crawled out. She heard nothing, but that meant little. Annlyn was stealthy, small framed, her foot claws purposefully blunted, she had a bad habit of popping up at the least opportune moment. Although it had never been spoken, Moriah had the sinking suspicion that the calling the woman had turned her back on was that of an assassin. Little else seemed to fit her, but Rasmus remained darkly silent whenever any conversation turned to his sister's lack of value or what she might have become. He loved Annlyn, and normally that was enough for Moriah. Moriah could not say the same, Annlyn was usually a force she merely tolerated, too full of empty desires… Money. Clothes. Powerful lovers. Parties. The world struggled around her, and her only struggle was how she appeared to that world. Moriah didn't know how to handle Annlyn, and the years she'd spent here had never shown her a way to comprehend the woman.

Annlyn has value. She is a resource, but one you should not give too much weight to.

Probably. And the least fact remained the same….Annlyn was Ras's sister. Ras loved her. And Moriah loved him. She took a long look around his roof, pensive and silent. Home. She didn't want to leave it, but there was a deeper truth… it wasn't home without Ras. And, at the very bottom of it all, this was his home first.

She crept into the hallway, inching along. Unlike the whisper thin Annlyn, Moriah was physically imposing, and had long since grown into her height. She was taller than Ras, taller than all but the tallest of men. Her claws clicked ominously on the bare sections of the floors, and she glared at her own feet. Nothing blunted there…. In her dreams, Moriah saw them as not only this lethal, curving length, but capped with razor edged metal.

And it is time for those dreams to become reality.

A pause at the top of the stairs…the house still had a bated, empty silence. They really were gone. That ascertained, Moriah stepped into stride, moving down the hallway to her rooms at the opposite end of the house from Ras's. What would she need?

They were just as she'd left them, and she gazed around. The first part was the easiest, Moriah's most valuable possession rested in the chest at the foot of her bed. She pulled it out, placing it gently on the desk and lighting a lamp to study it.

"Moriah. I gave great thought as to what would be the right gift. It kept coming back to this. Congratulations, and welcome to our numbers, cleric." It was beyond exorbitant, a gift beyond compare, and she rested her claw tips on the orichalcum plate inlaid in its top… She didn't need the dim light to read the inscription; it was simple and long since memorized: "To Moriah, from Rasmus, with all my love."

It was not just any Cube; Moriah could have bought one from any number of artisans throughout Pandemonium. No, Rasmus had travelled into the Abyss for this, to the shugo artisans so far away. He'd brought them orichalcum, asvata, balaur bone, and the finest of gems for its construction, and then, as if that was not enough, paid handsomely for its crafting. It was blatantly, horrifically expensive and she contemplated it. Perhaps it would be foolish to bring it. No, she dismissed that idea almost before it had formed. It needed a cover, leather, to obscure what it was, but she needed it. Once she had made her way far from Pandemonium, and all of those who would tattle to Annlyn, she would need all of the things she'd been given to be that cleric she was supposed to be. Armor. Weapon. Cube. She had the best, and the best was supposed to keep her intact. The Abyss was no joke… She wasn't truly, totally and completely, immortal. If she was, if Ras was, then retrieving him would not be such a high priority… he could just commit suicide, reappear at the obelisk that his soul knew as home, and walk away. But ascended souls could travel only so far to reach their homes, and her education told her that the Abyss was a vast and confusing place.

She opened the Cube, and began to pack all of those items that said Moriah was a fine cleric, supported by Pandemonium, competent, valued and valuable. She blew out the light, picked up the Cube, and moved onto the streets of Crandale. The sooner she vanished, the better, and she was familiar with this section of Pandemonium. There were things she needed, unobtrusive clothing, supplies, a cover for the Cube, and those claw caps….

Although it was dark, Crandale still buzzed with activity, and Moriah relaxed. It was rare to find Annlyn or any of her cronies here, and that possibility dwindled further as it became later. Those sorts preferred the grace of Vanahal to this area, and Moriah should be free to do her shopping in peace. But where to begin?

The bazaar would be open the latest, the place to find the unobtrusive clothing she needed, and many of the survival goods as well. Those could be purchased from any number of sources in Crandale, but the claw caps, no. Jeweler? Weaponsmith? For the life of her, Moriah had no idea…but there were always ways to find out.

She moved through the streets, dodging other daevas, the unascended, and shugos about their business, finally ending up on the steps of Rasmus's favored jeweler. If he couldn't do it, he'd know who could…

The bell rang over her head when she pushed the door open, and Sturgin glanced up, his dour glare fading into a suddenly welcoming smile. "Ah." He greeted, pushing his jeweler's lenses up and unfolding his body. "Young Moriah. Alone. Well, it had to happen sometime. What are you looking for this night?"

"I need my claws done."

Exasperation and doubt replaced the greeting in the daeva's eyes, and he plopped the lenses back down on his nose and hunched back over the piece he was working on. "Do I look like a Vanahal salon where pretty young ones get their claws done?" He asked, sarcasm dripping from his tone.

"Noooo." Moriah returned, nonplussed and embarrassed. "I just don't know where to ask…"

"Annlyn. I'm sure she knows a very expensive and exclusive place that will be happy to trim and paint lovely designs on your pretty toes."

"But that's not what I'm looking for." Moriah stammered, and he fixed her with another stare, before he finally sighed and stood again.

"Then, young Moriah, ward of Rasmus, what exactly are you looking for?" He gestured at the darkened cases around him. "I've made rings for your ears. Clasps for your hair. Necklaces…"

"I want claw caps. Edged. I…." She took a deep breath, but no one would be further from Annlyn's circle of friends than this one, "I'm going into the Abyss. After Rasmus. When I see myself, I see…"

Sturgin sighed, resting his lenses on the counter beside him and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "So someone finally let that one drop to you. Annlyn was doing her best to hide it, I'll have you know. You want claw knives… then I apologize. You have come to the correct place, and I'd be proud to do them, if possible." He motioned to the stool he had just come off of, "Up, and let me see if you've got the claws for them."

Moriah wasn't quite certain just what 'the claws for them' was, but the dreams all agreed that she got them, so surely that meant that she did? The man grasped her ankle, splaying her claws, then chuckled.

"No problem, little one. Long, sharp, and strong, the knives will go on well. Let's get started…"

He worked in silence, until Moriah finally got the nerve to ask the next important question that had been haunting her. With all that education, all those classes, her instructors seemed to have skipped the most basic and yet, most important piece of information.

"How do I get to the Abyss?" She asked, and he paused. She'd never been there, as a child she had been raised in a dirt camp somewhere out of Alsig. From there, she'd been to Alsig….once…. a trip she barely remembered. The only thing that really even seemed real anymore was Pandemonium.

"Return to Morheim." He finally replied, cocking his head to study his work. Moriah nodded, it would be a return, since that was broadly the area she had been born in, raised in, even if she didn't recall it well. "The ring gate to Primum is in the sky above Morheim. Primum is in the Abyss, it's our staging point. You're a healer. You'll be able to find a unit down one of those there, talk yourself into their ranks. You have a Cube?"

She pulled it by its embroidered strap, resting it in her lap. "I need to have a cover made for it…but yes…"

He glanced at it, snorted, shook his head, and went back to working. "Boy has amazingly fine taste." He muttered. "A simple Cube, not enough. No, he had to go to Black Cloud for yours. Definitely, cover that. Primum is not nearly as civilized as Pandemonium, Moriah. Be cautious. Listen to your heart. Aion leads you well, young cleric….and, you're done."

Moriah swallowed, holding a hand up to the light. They were just as she'd seen, beautiful… engraved and set with stones, but they held a lethal promise, a sullen edge of light playing down their length. "Ahhh…." And she had no way to pay for this… They were a masterwork on the same level as the Cube.

"Don't worry, cleric." He dismissed her stammer before it even got started. "There's not much call for lovely sets of claw knifes, big bumbling templars don't want stones and pretties. They've been here forever, consider them a…gift. Just go do what Aion calls…and lock the door on your way out."

Moriah mutely nodded, shouldering the Cube strap and moving to the door. "Thank you…for everything." She murmured, and he barely glanced at her in reply.

"We are called, Moriah. Good luck."

It was much later, it had taken longer than Moriah had bargained for, many shops were closed and she moved down the streets. Was she going to have to wait until morning? She had been hoping and praying to make it to the Teleport circle and away from Pandemonium well before she was noted to have missed her first class, before Annlyn caught wind of her imminent defection. But she wasn't leaving without all of the things she needed, that seemed ill advised.

There was a small leatherworking shop open, and Moriah let herself in, smiling at the shugo behind the counter.

"Nyerk! Good evening, kind daeva!" She shrilled at Moriah. "What can I do for you this night?" She fastened bright, inquisitive brown eyes on Moriah's face, intently waiting.

"I need…a cover… for this." Moriah rested the Cube on the counter, and the shugo's tail fell, her bright eyes distressed.

"Daeva wants to hide one of Vindacherk's Cubes? Finds it…not worthy?" The high pitched question ended in an outraged and utterly saddened keening whisper. "He will be…nyerk…."

"No. I just need a cover. It's too…"

"Noticeable, nyerk." A male shugo, attracted by his mate's distress, appeared from the back room. "And the case work, too easily damaged in combat. Certainly, Daeva, I have some already made for this." He nodded sharply, spun, his tail jerking in thought, and he retreated back into the storeroom. He returned with a hardened leather box, lined in karnif fur, and gently slid the Cube into it, feeding the strap through, and clipping it closed. "There. All safe, nyerk." He chittered a chuckle. "Fifty kinah."

Moriah nodded, paid, and went through the bazaar, picking up clothes other than the lovely items that Annlyn and Rasmus clothed her in, and the all too recognizable robes of a student cleric at the Convent of Marchutan. The sky was lit with false dawn when a nearly unrecognizable Moriah finally moved out of Crandale towards the teleport circle. "Morheim." She stated calmly to the teleport master, and stepped through into a sudden deep chill.