Paladin-Initiate Cora, reporting for duty!

In a glance, your eyes confirm what you ears already told you - it is her.

Cora. Paladin-Initiate Cora - as if she'd ever let you forget the title.

Of all the sisters in the abbey, Cora has been the biggest thorn in your side since you've arrived. While many sisters grumbled about your Imp companion and your relationship, none were as persistent as Cora. She's seemed to take a vicious pleasure in castigating you, and every time you passed her and her clique of hangers-on in the abbey halls you heard the loud whispers and stifled curses. You had traced more than few of the most salacious rumors about your nightly escapades with the Imp back to her - and what did it matter if most of them were true? It was none of her business what you did with that thick daemon cock...

To make matters worse, Cora was a rising figure in the faith, and had gained the ear of many of the more senior Sisters. You'd heard that she distinguished herself in rooting out daemon cults in recent seasons, though the details remained scarce. Cora herself made sure that you knew that she one of the youngest Sisters to ever to pass the Paladin trials and join them as an Initiate. More and more often, you saw the the senior sisters using her as an example to the younger Acolytes. A shifting gaggle of junior sisters seemed to mill about her constantly, singing her praises and amplifying her slander, while she encouraged and goaded them on. Facing her, you suddenly knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who had made sure that the rumors of your daemonic dalliances reached Paladin Ilmara.

However, at this moment she appeared to be alone, facing you in the deserted hallway outside your quarters. Thank the Goddess for small mercies...

You **** your gaze up to her face, already dreading the superior smirk you're sure is lurking on her perfectly formed lips.

"Yes...Cora?" you purposefully drop the title she flaunts, taking what petty **** you can.

Ignoring your meager taunt, she smiles at you beneficently, her sculpted cheeks dimpling below her piercing green eyes.

"Oh Sister Sabine," she speaks, her well pitched voice unnervingly gentle, "I simply wondered where you were coming from in such a hurry?" She arches one sculpted eyebrow questioningly.