The Blackest Magic

[*Devil's Elysium]

Shady. Too good with words. His eyes don't reveal nothin', either. Wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him if he was a bloody Power. The dark is, he's apparently a nobody. Came from some backwater prime with no clear allegiances--I mean, I've spotted him with every type of Planeborne that frequent the Cage by now, and he's barely been here over a week. But then, some bashers sing a different song. That he's far from what you'd call a nobody--some kinslaying blood with some old ties to an even older house of ninny-chanters with a lot more planar blood than him, on a mission to make himself the sole heir.
...Still, I've never really seen him do a body harm. Just watch him is all I'm saying, alright?

[*Reptiller]

Hildmor leans back in his wingchair and tosses the informant a small pouch of coins.

"This li'l piece of chant reminds me of my own..."

[*Devil's Elysium]

Current rumour would claim that Malkuth shifts between human [or rather, his usual--one can never be sure who's human these days!] and fiendish shapes with blasphemous comfort and heretical ease. Gossip thrives--an agent of the hells, a foreign finger testing Sigil? It wouldn't be the first time. More knowledgeable sorts put it down to magic, but they've been wrong before.

Additional rumours circulate concerning his habitual use of a known portal to Mercuria. Eyes about the Ward claim he leaves the plane with a few more notches on his blade every time--and always with a growing look of frustration within his gaze. Overheard scraps of conversation concern ancient knowledge spoken of with inappropriate familiarity.