Kara was searching for the sacred relic. Long ago, it had been taken from Luna's temple and her fellow priestesses considered it lost to time. She was enthralled by its rumored powers and hoped to revitalize worship of Istari, which was a shadow of its former glory.
She had been shunned; the cowards who were once her superiors considered her quest a fool's errand. But Kara had faith the goddess would lead her on the right path.
Kara was a human woman of average height. Her once-pale skinned was slightly tanned from years of travel, which had bleached her strawberry blonde hair as well. While not bulky, her travelling made her lean and toned; her legs were muscular and her ass firm. She wore well-fitted leggings, and a tight tunic covered her taut midsection but struggled to conceal her large breasts.
Below her left collarbone she had a tattoo of a crescent moon, identifying her as a member of the Lunic Temple, and a silver circlet showed her rank as an acolyte. Her face was lightly dusted with freckles and she had two dark brown eyes. Over her clothes she wore a cloak, and she kept spare clothes and money in her knapsack.
So far, her search had proved fruitless. She was currently investigating an abandoned monastery in the hills of the western barbarian lands. Fortunately, she was able to pass through safely and had found enough inns and taverns to stay the night or work odd jobs. Sometimes she needed to get dirty.
Now she found herself at least two days from the nearest settlement wandering through the crumbling courtyard. As she meandered, she heard a low drone in her mind that was gradually increasing in volume. The drone increased to a war-drum-esque cadence driving her forward. Her careful exploration had escalated to an urgent rhythm and then again to a frenzied pace as her mind became devoid of anything except finding the source of the mind-numbing noise.
She burst through a dilapidated doorway and saw it. A thick, crystal rod implanted in an altar. That had to be it. As she crept closer to it, whispers started creeping into her mind. The cacophony was almost too much to bear. Her heart pounded in her chest, matching the relentless drive of the drums in her mind. She reached her right hand out to touch the rod, unable to think straight through the din.
Her fingertips touched the rod, and the noise stopped.