Night Mother

Night Mother Liesma


The Eyes of the Dread Father

The Night Mother's Grandchild

On the last day of autumn, as the first flecks of snow fell upon the deciduous forest, wolves huddled around their sister, the Night Mother's daughter.

"Protect the child," they whispered among themselves, warm breath pooling into clouds of mist. "The Void will not see another soul before the winter."

Their sister shifted to the side, and the wolves peered closer at the young one that was now revealed. She was not like her mother - her fur was dark, but not as much as her father's. She was the perfect child, the perfect Hunter.

"She will serve the Brotherhood well," the initiates echoed each other, looking down on their new sister. And she looked back. The wolves edged away.

The mother lifted her head in questioning, but was too weak to see. "The Dread Father has already claimed her, look! Look! He has given her an eye into the Void." The wolves murmured in fright, or perhaps awe. They peered down at the child's eyes, one black and one white, as if touched - but only briefly - by the Void. "She walks among the living, despite being held by our dead. She is the Dread Father's gift to the Dark Brotherhood."

The first time you saw the Night Mother, she was two cold, calculating eyes watching unblinkingly from the underbrush as you stumbled around, lost in the coniferous forest.
She'd been tracking you for awhile, as she'd later reveal. You never found out just how long 'awhile' was, but you didn't doubt it. The Dark Brotherhood was everywhere. They knew everything.
She'd eventually cornered you when you got too close to the Sanctuary. An elk's call in the gorge was all it took. You'd never felt as uneasy in your life as you did when you realized that you weren't alone.
It was a mercy she didn't stain the gorge red with your blood that day.
The Night Mother was a skilled Hunter, previously the head of a Hunting team before she ascended to leadership. She was malicious and bloodthirsty like her grandmother, the former Night Mother, a trait that made her respected and feared.
But most of all, she was intelligent. She was cunning and calculating, more so than most. The elk's call was not what it seemed at all, rather a mimicry. She'd done the same call many times on Hunts to lure in herds. She'd recognized your hunger that morning, smelled the desperation in the air. You'd be too distracted by the possibility of a trapped elk to realize that you, too, would become trapped.
When you looked behind you, you saw her. Tall, and broad-shouldered. Her muscles rippled beneath her fur with each step, and her lips peeled back to reveal snarling blood-stained teeth.
You looked into her eyes, and you saw your own death reflected back at you.


Decor Wishlist
• Body Contour
• Scar: Old Trauma
• Expression: Toothy
• Bone Jewelry
• Subtle Sunrise

Spending Predictions
• GC - 20/25
• SC - 1750/2400