Quote Originally Posted by Athedia View Post
Mithril smiled, turning her hand so the mark of the Institute was clearly visible. "Not quite. With Boccob to practice magic is as much a prayer as words. He blurs the lines between the distinct forms of magic. And I believe I am more useful to him as a wizard, not a cleric." She examined the map, mind flashing back to the rough scratched our map that marked the web in the underdark and the scratched out section over Woodhelm. "The image... reminds me of another. But this is happier, more celebratory. Though I do agree that Boccob is everywhere and nowhere. They call him the Uncaring, but maybe there is just to much to care about."

She glanced at the picture of St. Cuthbert, lip slightly curling in anger. "He is no true hero. St. Cuthbert led a dear friend into trap after trap until she finally died still trying to do his will. She believed until the end and suffering was her reward."
Ilda watches Mithril's angry expression quietly, and seems to hesitate before offering her reply. "This dear friend... would she say the same thing, if she were here?"