Stratagema-Cognoscenti's Mask

Stratagema-Cognoscenti's Mask

<image name=UI_ReadPic_121316 /> (A cold mask that once concealed a true face. It is said to be a keepsake from Reed Miller, the founder of the Treasure Hoarders. No adornments grace the mask but for the frosty moonlight that dances across its pure silver facade.) According to the tales that circulate in Nasha Town today, the master thief once walked the world without a disguise, free and tall. It was only after the cold gibbet in front of the royal court failed to take his life, That he began wearing the silver mask that might have covered his handsome face forevermore, Had he not taken it off once more, and for good, after the pitch-black calamity swept the borderlands. Over the centuries, countless rumors have circulated about the reason behind the master thief's actions. Some say he did what he did to keep himself safe from the relentless searches that swept through Snezhnaya, While others say that he wore a mask to hide certain marks that had been left on him by the executioner. Some tales claim the master thief put on the mask after growing weary of the love or hate of the madding crowd, That his close shave with death had left him a changed man — taciturn and sparing with his words. No matter the truth, the master thief's silver mask has become his symbol, And combined with the spectacular heist of countless treasures at the borderland governor's palace, Its legend has become as golden rain to the poor, nourishing their sleep with countless lovely dreams. "You once prayed to the gods, to your masters, but none answered your wails." "That is because the gods are just as helpless. Just like us mortals, they are trapped in the mortal world beneath the moon." "They cried out in horror and despair, but none heard them. Brothers, the gods can save no one." "Like us, they couldn't even save themselves. All we could do was take pity on each other." The thief who wore the silver mask held the gods in open contempt, scorning the empty fame that the nobles vied for so desperately. To the taciturn thief, both the northland Tsar and the mistress of the Frost Moon deserved his contempt and silence equally. Until that rush of moonlight poured from the high tower, incinerating both the silver and the resolve reflected in her eyes...