5th of Eleasis

The revelers drank, danced, and gossiped in the grand ballroom of the Waterdavian estate.
 
In the corner of the crowded room a tall, slender woman with short black hair, pale skin, and steel gray eyes surveyed the crowd. As she sipped a glass of wild orchid wine, she took note of the revelers: an ostentatious older woman chatting up anyone foolish enough to come within range, a jaundiced young woman who looked as if she'd smelled something unpleasant, a flamboyant half elf carrying on an animated conversation with a somewhat uncomfortable-looking half orc. She sighed and drained her glass. "It appears my target hasn't arrived yet," she thought as she adjusted her raven feather capelet over a fine glitter-weave gown.
 
<Later that evening>
 
As the carousing carried on into the night, a man stumbled out of the manor's grand entryway and began his journey home.
 
In his drunken state, it took him a bit of time to notice the streetlamps dim as he walked. Turning down a narrow alley, his pulse began to quicken. Something - or someone - was following him.
 
Suddenly the ground beneath him began to quake, the unexpected tremors knocking him to his knees. It was here.
 
"Ladvon Dewsword, we know...." Panicked, Ladvon fired a magic missile in the direction of the frigid voice but saw the darts plink off the dead end of the alley.
 
"We know you've been cheating us. We know you've been cheating Death." A tall figure in a floor-grazing black cloak topped with a raven feather capelet stepped out of the shadows. Its face was obscured by a white leather bird mask that contrasted sharply with the darkness surrounding it. Beneath the mask, Ladvon could just make out a pair of blood red eyes boring into him.
 
"I...I've done nothing wrong! That wasn't even *my* phylactery, I was holding it for a friend! I haven't even died yet, I'm still alive, so technically I haven't cheated anyone...."
 
"Enough," hissed the figure, "your despicable disregard for the natural order of this world sickens us. You have one life, and when it is time for it to end, it ends."
 
"Fine. I'll forgo my plans and live out this life."
 
"You have. My Goddess has ruled that, as punishment for your incursion on the laws that govern this realm, you will answer to her immediately. On behalf of the Raven Queen, I take thee!"
 
With surprising quickness the figure lunged toward him - maybe it flew - and swung a mace into his chest. Upon contact the mace blazed with a crackle of necrotic energy, clearly originating from the goddess herself. Ladvon crumpled to the ground.
 
As the tremors ceased and her eyes faded back to pale gray, Bourdekin spoke aloud to no one in particular, "If it's all right with you, my Queen, I shall now take my leave and return to Chult. The task is complete."
 
Somewhere in the dark, a raven shrieked.