Mistress of the Night and Friends
There once was a beautiful woman. Men and women alike travelled across the land to earn her hand in marriage, but none could win her heart. Her mother despaired, for she wished for her daughter to find love and happiness. And then her mother died. The woman cried and cried. Her suitors stopped calling. Her friends stopped writing. And still she cried. 'You poor child.' Shar whispered in her ear. 'They only wanted you for your beauty. For your charm. For your grace. Now that grief has replaced your charms, none care for you. None but I.' The woman spoke to Shar, who listened. She prayed to Shar, who answered. For the first time in her life, the woman had a true friend. And then Shar asked her to take a vial. A small vial. An innocent vial. She took the vial to a man. The man filled it with a liquid and told her to drop it into a well. The woman did. She wanted Shar to love her. To be proud of her. And then people became sick. People died. But Shar loved her. And the woman loved Shar. Now men and women alike travel across the land to see her. Not because she is beautiful. Not because she is charming. But because she is a High Priestess of Shar. And her word is law.