An ancient and secretive organization, the Black Lotus is shrouded in mystery. Rumored to have originally been established by the surviving followers of an ancient sorcerer, they have remained hidden, passing their knowledge down through generations. What their purpose and motives are is anyone's guess. We only know that this society is made up of people from all walks of life. Perhaps not a comforting thought as their infiltration of various sectors of society and growing numbers suggest that they are not all that they appear to be...
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Somewhere in the night a scream was heard, a piercing sound that
prompted the wail of dogs in the distance. As the screams faded
to muttered wimperings, the sounds of the city died once more and
the night was silent.
From hand to hand it passed that morning, a blur of black and white. Each new hand it touched trembled at the sight, and quickly made to pass it along again. Across the gardens it sped, up the stairs and down the hall, into private chambers where it landed softly in a pair of milk white hands. The black seal tore open as the letter unfolded, it's wax shavings drifting soundlessly to the floor. The tall scrawling text gave a short, simple message. Those ivory white hands began to tremble now. Arm extended, and the flames from the fireplace licked the edge of the letter, teasing the parchment with it's orange heat. Tiny embers floated in the air as the letter glided into the fire to rest upon the log that waited there. The wax seal began to melt, the figure distorting. The emblem of the Black Lotus sank into a pool of black melted wax and slowly disappeared into the flames.
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