In The Low Light Of The Braziers, Below The Streets Of The City In A Haze Of Smoke, The Followers Of

In the low light of the braziers, below the streets of the city in a haze of smoke, the followers of Set hold their ceremony and give their thanks and prayers to the Father. In the shadow of the Hierophant you see the spark of one bright pupil gazing back at you. The Herald, the Miracle, the Godchild. Set Reborn, the Hierophant may have you believe. She's looking your way, curiosity piqued at your presence. Her interest makes your skin crawl, your toes curl, your heart race. The primal fear of something incomprehensibly more powerful than you mixed strangely with the primal desires that come from looking at someone so comely. What do you do in the face of the Almighty? Perhaps the only right thing to do is give in.