Four months after the fiasco with the infamous Blackcloaks, a group of High Elven commissioners arrived at Midnight Crow. Though resentful, they were bound to attend, for this was the signing of the new pact between the diverse forces of Greenleaf. They weren't expecting good news, and they were not disappointed. The first thing they witnessed was a shift in their leader's ambitions: instead of seeking the death and desolation of the Overlord's troops, the guild now declared itself a "fragile group" that had required the support of Elves and human allies alike.
However, claiming the necessity of turning the Blackcloak guild into a magical elite, they announced a change in teaching methodologies. This would now include "sinister magics," with the sole purpose of ensuring Blackcloak mages were never left defenseless. Furthermore, enrollment was opened to all races, aiming to gather as much diversity and power as possible—except for Elves and any species allied with the Overlord.
Leaving the meeting, the Elven envoys could not comprehend what they had seen. Did the leader not hate the Overlord? Did he not despise the Whitecloaks? None of it made sense; not even humans were stupid enough to provoke the wrath of the High Elves. Frowning, they headed for their mounts when a figure emerged from the shadows. They didn't recognize him, even when he introduced himself as a Blackcloak of great standing. He asked them for a few drinks, claiming they needed to hear one of the greatest lies in the history of Greenleaf. Annoyed and ready to leave, they lamented not being able to simply eliminate this dreg of society for wasting their time. However, one of them spotted a pendant—one of the trinkets given to the Blackcloaks, supposed to see through low-level illusions. With a nod, both followed the drunkard.
Inside the tavern, the man began by saying it was a terrible day for humanity. "Those at the school won't listen, and no one understands the terror lurking in my mind." His thoughts were so erratic that one of the Elves unsheathed his rapier, placing the tip inches from the wretch's face. The man squinted, struggling to focus on a point too fine for any human blacksmith to forge. Finally, the human seemed to concentrate and began his tale.
"I was the secretary for the Blackcloaks. Four months ago, I received a message from the Master saying he was about to return. We were exultant; he was bringing ancient magic—enchantments capable of melting those solid magic crystals that encased the Queen of the Succubi. They were so resistant we hadn't found an answer, but we thought the great library of Bloody Coin would be a different story. The Master was always a perfectionist, so I went down to verify everything was in order. I found no one on guard duty that night. That worried me; we can't go around admitting we're a pack of slackers. I extended my field as I had learned from the Redcloaks. Below, I sensed several of my companions. I entered, shouting at them as the situation demanded, but none answered. They were all on the floor, naked. For a moment, I thought of some sort of orgy—not uncommon among Redcloaks, but I hadn't seen it here—until I noticed a red thing lying on the floor."
"It was barely four feet tall, reddish, with the hint of horns. Beside it was another similar creature, but with slightly more curves. Both were naked. One didn't move. Fearing these two were trying to free Lilith, I tried to kill the male. Powerful magics prevented me from aiming correctly; every time I fired, the demon remained lying there, yet somehow further ahead. I decided to use area magic, something to incinerate the nuisance mocking me. Then... she appeared."
"It was a massive explosion. Some of the crystals from the prison flew out and embedded themselves in my arm. The pain broke my concentration. When I looked up, I wished I hadn't. A female demon was watching me. Rage in her eyes, a scarlet body, horns, and goat legs. There was no doubt: Lilith is free!"
The two Elves continued to look at him with suspicion. During his tale, he had drained two jars of wine and devoured the snacks placed before him. One Elf was ready to leave, but the other, an envoy of the King, considered it his duty to gather pertinent information. Things were not going as the King had predicted; the magical society was entrenching itself. The Whitecloaks had prevented their warriors from entering the cities. Whether this was a trick of the mages or the Overlord, it had to be investigated. Grudgingly, he placed a silver coin on the table. The other patrons grew silent; it wasn't that silver was rare, but anyone paying with it and keeping their hand the next day had to be someone of standing. They signaled the waitress to keep the wine flowing as long as the coin lasted. Once he finished his jar, he continued:
"The moment the Leader entered, I felt a glimmer of hope—though it was already withered by my fear of such power. The first thing I noticed was that he didn't have his staff; yet, he seemed stronger than before. Where his hand should be, a shifting image of a claw flickered while powerful enchantments were hurled... but they were hitting the space beside Lilith. That demon woman was on her knees before the little creature I had failed to kill, lifting it and moving it away from where the Master was attacking."
"I didn't understand why he wasn't paying attention. He wasn't just hitting empty alcoves; his attacks were obliterating everything except what he thought he saw. All I could do was wait. Lilith stood up, and I fled back to my refuge. From there, I saw how my Master continued to fill the air with magic. She walked toward him. She didn't speak; she didn't utter a single aggression. When I realized the Master couldn't sense her even though she was standing right next to him, a cold sweat broke over me. These were things we should have taught, things we should have learned, but it was too late—for him, and for me. I saw her. With her fingernail, she opened his skull as if it were the rind of a fruit. She opened it and wrote inside with her claw. It took time, but he felt nothing. Then, she closed it back up. She walked over and sat on the throne in the basement. It took my Master a moment; then his eyes focused, and he shouted that he had won, but that it had been difficult. I wanted to believe him. Every time I thought about it, it sounded rational, but I knew it wasn't true."
"Since then, I've tried to point out his errors. He has accepted many creatures of the shadows; everyone sees them as humans. No one understands they are training creatures of darkness. This was a conspiracy. The Redcloaks were supposed to hold him, yet at the ceremony, that old man from Stormhammer was there, delivering books of advanced magic to our leader. While that happened, Lilith was sitting right there. Everyone 'sees' her in that crystal tomb, but I don't. I see her wandering through the kitchen. I see her in the libraries reviewing texts. No one finds it strange. No one protests. Even the Whitecloak leader smiled in the direction of where she stood. You have to help my Master. We were youths who wanted power; we never expected the power to consume us. Now we are at the mercy of the other guilds and that demon called Lilith. If you support us, we will serve you faithfully. If not, I will found my own magical society, one that will only seek the death of the symbols that represent her and all who support her. I will turn whoever I can into true Blackcloaks. What do you say? Will you help me?"
The Elves left the table without a word. It wasn't that they doubted his word, but he spoke of things not even the masters of magic had been able to achieve. It was clear the poor beggar had hallucinations brought on by excess alcohol; he was of no use to them like that. They made him walk away with a vague promise of help and vanished into an alley. It wasn't that they couldn't investigate, but they preferred to send spies. They had to know if they had failed. Lilith is important to the Elves, but she is only an obstacle—someone who prevented the mages from uniting under their banner. There are plans for that, but for now, a madman is the last thing they need. They will send delegates; they will decide the future of this corrupt society.