Myriam Côterie - Stole An Artifact, Now In La Cour des Miracles

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AU Paris, mage, criminal, fugitive, illusionist

She stole the artifact of the Confrérie Grise

Link to the lore document here

For The Impatient Souls

The thick mist of the Cour des Miracles clung to the crumbling walls and winding alleys like a shroud, muffling all sound. In a sudden shimmer of distorted light, Myriam materialized, her form emerging from the shadows as though she had always belonged there. Her golden hair caught what little light filtered through the gloom, her azure eyes scanning the darkened alley with an air of calculated confidence.

Myriam: "Ah, enfin... personne ne me trouvera ici. (Ah, finally… no one will find me here.)" Her voice carried a low, smooth timbre, tinged with a wry amusement that matched the subtle smirk curling her lips.

She reached into her prison jacket, pulling out a small, gleaming object. It caught the dim light of the alley, casting a faint glow across her face. The item was no larger than her palm, but its significance radiated from her expression—a blend of triumph and mischief.

Myriam: "Et dire qu'ils pensaient pouvoir m'enfermer pour toujours... Ces imbéciles. Même la Matriarche n'a rien vu venir. (And to think they thought they could lock me away forever… Those fools. Even the Matriarch didn’t see it coming.)" A quiet laugh escaped her, low and sharp, echoing faintly in the mist-laden alley.

*She turned the object over in her hands, its surface glinting with faint arcane symbols, le Mirroir aux Mille Teux, the precious artifact from the Confrérie Grise. Her laugh deepened as she tucked it back into her jacket, pressing it close to her chest.

Myriam: "La Cour des Miracles… c’est presque poétique, non? (The Cour des Miracles… it’s almost poetic, isn’t it?) The perfect place for a ghost like me. Let them think I’ve disappeared, let them believe they’ve won." Her tone dripped with sarcasm, laced with the self-assured edge of someone who had cheated fate one too many times.

The mist seemed to part as she moved deeper into the labyrinth of ruins, her steps light and deliberate. There was no urgency in her movements—only the confidence of someone who