The morning peaked grey through the worn cloth over the window. It woke Caden briefly, as did the cawing of crows outside. He turned over to face away from the wretched light. He had only been asleep for a few brief hours. He had drank the night away downstairs in the tavern.

In the place between waking and sleep, he felt a presence. He jolted awake.

A woman sat, one leg crossed over the other, in the wobbly wooden chair on the other side of the small room. Well, kind of a woman. Definitely female, as she had flowing curves and bounteous breasts. Yet she was the same shade of grey as a storm on the horizon, and had the head of a cat. Her golden eyes danced with amusement and he regained his breath from his fright.

"Who are you?" Caden demanded.

Her tail twitched, "I am the goddess Sarket. And I have a task for you, Caden."

"Hrmph," He laid back down and faced away from her. He obviously had too much to drink and was dreaming some bizarre dream. He pulled the threadbare sheets up to his chin to sleep off the alcohol when they were ripped away from him, and he found himself on the floor.

He jumped up to his feet, now wide awake and fists balled up to his face, ready to fight.

"Surely you do not deny a goddess, Caden," She said casting the rag of a blanket away and sat back down in the chair gracefully.

"The gods are dead," he growled.

She smiled, lopsided and smug, "Yet here I am."

"What do you want?"

The cat-goddess examined her nails... claws... "There is a girl in the palace. I have chosen her to be my acolyte." She stood and walked to the window. She spoke and she peered out, "However, she is a slave in that gilded dungeon. She doesn't know that I have chosen her, and I need you to release her from her captors." She turned and looked at Caden and smiled sweetly, "I trust this will not be too difficult a task for a skilled assassin like yourself?"

Caden ran a hand over his face. He felt the evening's grease on his forehead and the morning's stubble on his chin. He didn't believe what he was hearing.

"As you said, goddess, I am an assassin; not an errand boy," it was his turn to face the window.

The goddess's golden eyes flashed, "I need someone with your skills." She set a rather heavy sounding purse on the table. Caden's head jerked towards the table. The purse looked as heavy as it sounded; his mouth twitched up as he imagined the table breaking beneath its weight. But then his unamused affect returned as he turned back towards the window, "I must decline... goddess." The sky was starting to find color as the sun came up.

Sarket inhaled deeply, "Decline if you wish, but it is your purpose. It is your fate."

Caden scowled. He did not like the idea of his life having purpose other than his own. He resented it, really. And therefore, he resented this goddess and he resented her task. He grabbed the purse - heavy it was indeed- and threw it at the goddess. "Get out," he growled under his breath. When she did not answer, nor did he hear the sound of coins scattering, he looked up. The goddess was gone.