Sigil: City of Doors

A simple wreath was found laid by the doors to Root of Nine's warehouse today, left by a human woman garbed in black dress at a quiet hour. The garland was unadorned and plain, aside from a note affixed to it, penned by the Automatic Scribe's trademark.

Five years ago to the cycle, justice was martyred for the twenty three souls that perished when the Smoking Hammer burnt to the ground at this spot.

Never let their memory pass into nothing, for those departed are missed.

There was nothing magical or out of the ordinary about the wreath or message, to any such examination.

As per her norm Emmy brings roses to the warehouse, one for each death. Upon seeing the wreath she takes the time to wind the roses entwining them into the wreath. She sets the wreath back giving it a satisfying nod. It made her feel good to know that she is not the only one who remembered.

A bottle of cloud wine with an anonymous note attached is left by the other trinkets.

This time the drinks are on me.