"It's not fair, Cim!" Ismene pounded her fist against the tavern wall in frustration, eliciting a a cry of protest from the barkeep as dust sprinkles down from the rafters.
"I've been here over a year, but the priests treat me like a wet-behind-the-ears acolyte!"
Cimri had heard this litany of complaints before. Ismene had been braying about the same things since she came to Longacre. It was always, "There's never anything to do in this town!" or sometimes, "There's nobody to train with here! How am I supposed to get better if I only have wooden dummies to practice on?" and occasionally she would trot out the laughable "How can they waste my talents tending to the garden all day? I know the Asmodean law as well as any of them!"
In truth, Cimri was Ismene's only friend in Longacre, which is hardly surprising. Hailing from Isger, Sister Ismene had lost her parents to the Goblinblood Wars and was taken in by the Sisters of the Golden Erinyes. The Devil Nuns, as they were better known, had a fearsome reputation, and Ismene didn't exactly have a glowing personality (unless you count hellfire). Baptized in unholy water, the nuns taught Ismene to be violent and cruel and stronger than the chaos of a broken world. She was all of these things, but ever since coming to Longacre, Ismene found that she could be something worse - bored.
That was why Ismene liked hanging around with Cimri. The little hellion always had something interesting to do, whether it was a job to be done or some mischief to be had. For Cimri's part, letting Ismene hang around and complain had certain fringe benefits as well. For starters, the horse-faced girl with the crooked nose made Cimri look more attractive by comparison, and the freakishly-strong nun was good for intimidation factor. Cimri had plenty of use for cheap, reliable muscle.
"Cim, there's got to be more to my life than this! I could go to Egorian maybe. I hear there's a convent there, the Sisterhood of Eiseth. They worship the Erinyes Queen, and they become erinyes when they die! How incredible would that be?" Cimri had heard this half-baked scheme before, too. Ismene liked to fantasize about running away and joining a Whore Queen's cult, as if that would solve all her problems. The idea wasn't completely without merit; Ismene had more than her share of enemies in Longacre. The priests hated her because she was a political liability (and because she was a woman), the Hellknights hated her for crippling (and embarassing) an armiger during what was supposed to be a friendly demonstration of martial arts, and the Sherrif hated her for corrupting her daughter Cimri (if only she knew the truth). Getting out of Longacre would at least let Ismene escape from all that. There was only one problem with this idea. Sister Ismene had been sent to Longacre specifically to aid the Asmodean temple here. So unless the head of the temple released her, Ismene was stuck.
Cimri had told her as much before, but that conversation never went well. Ismene wasn't the only one who wanted to escape the prison of Longacre, but if they were going to leave, they would need friends in high places. Most days, Cimri didn't know what to say. But today was different. The winds were beginning to shift in Longacre, and fortunes along with it. "Well Sister, today's your lucky day. See, I've got this job..."
