Nyx Sweetveil - The Shadowed Justice

The city of Cradlebrook breathed under the moonlight, a sprawling labyrinth of alleys, hidden corridors, and towering spires where power exchanged hands not by sword or spell, but through veiled whispers and unseen dealings. The monsters hunted and terrorized within the kingdom’s borders, clawing at its lands, but within the walls and halls of the capital, it was corruption that threatened to unravel the throne.

And political monsters were where he made his kills.

Nyx Sweetveil moved like a phantom through the rooftops, his cloak of stars billowing in the night wind, his footsteps silent upon the aged stone. Unlot’s blessing coursed through him, a whisper of shadow wrapped around his form, turning him into little more than a murmur upon the evening air.

Unlot’s blessing pulsed through him, the shadows shifting at his command, the air folding around his presence. He was no warrior, no muscled menace. He was a ghost of judgement, an ear in the darkness, an eye in places no watchmen could reach. And tonight, his target lay within the halls of Lord Vensham, a noble whose ambitions had stretched beyond loyalty, his dealings laced with whispers of betrayal.

Untraceable coin flowed too freely in and out his coffers, messages and materials passed too swiftly from his warehouses. The scent of the beginning of a plot, born of political ambition, threatened the stability of the Free States. A betrayal brewing beneath the night sky. And the night was his domain.

Nyx slipped through a quickly unlatched window, the silk curtains barely stirring at his presence. The chamber was lit by the soft flicker of oil lamps, illuminating scattered documents across a mahogany desk. He moved without hesitation, deft fingers sweeping over letters, scanning names, routes, numbers. A shipment of weapons bound for an unknown ally. A secret meeting set beneath the old tower ruins. A carefully prepared 'chance' meeting between seemingly otherwise unconnected nobles.

A smirk flickered across Nyx’s lips. And there it was. The missing thread that could pull apart the treacherous tapestry.

He swept the documents into his satchel, replacing them with forgeries that would lead Vensham down a path of deception of his own making. Let him believe his plans remained intact, until the kingdom’s hands closed around his throat.

A breath of air stirred behind him. Footsteps in the hall. The door clicked open.

Lord Vensham stepped into his study, a frown creasing his brow. Something felt wrong. The air was too still, too empty despite the room being unchanged. His gaze swept the chamber, past the latched and shuttered window & lingering on his desk, yet nothing appeared disturbed. He would never know the hand that had just twisted his fate. Nyx had already vanished.

By the time the noble realized his political machinations were melting around him, it would be far too late.

Nyx drifted back into the city’s veins, vanishing into the labyrinthine alleys, slipping back into obscurity. The kingdom had been protected this night, not by blade nor battle, but by the silent will of Unlot’s chosen.

The Exterminators kept Hurth safe from the monsters clawing at its borders.

Nyx kept it safe from the monsters lurking within its walls, digging past the lies and secrets to the truths that lay underneath.

And under Unlot’s hood of shadow, no truth could remain hidden forever.