Studies Of The Dead
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*Selebius
- Posts: 1073
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
The Cult of the Black Flower is mentioned first in some Collector's notices, 154 years ago.
She was approached by some cultists who wanted to buy corpses from her but of course she denied. A fourthnight later she was found dead, her cart empty, the other collectors who were working with her were slain as well.
The next time this cult appears in the mortuary's archives is 50 years later, when some Initiate stumbled upon a house filled with corpses, probably located in Undersigil. The bodies have been rearranged and modified- or perhaps defiled in most unusual ways- the records are not clear on this.
The initiate and his companions faced the cultists in battle and slew them but when doing so were attacked by undead as well- a must unusual thing, a true breach of the Death Truce.
Thirty years pass then some pamphlet turned up in Sigil, encouraging the undead to embrace their passions to grow attached to their unlife, to enjoy their existance to the fullest. First thought to be some Sensate campaign evidence was found that points to the cult as well.
Between all those stories Emmy finds the following facts: The Cult's symbol is a black Orchid, outlined in Blue- sometimes shown to grow from a heartshaped hole in the palm of a humanoid creature.
There are two adresses known- one in Undersigil, the House where the corpses were found. The other one is in the Clerk's Ward, a house where several boxes of the pamphlets had been found.
She was approached by some cultists who wanted to buy corpses from her but of course she denied. A fourthnight later she was found dead, her cart empty, the other collectors who were working with her were slain as well.
The next time this cult appears in the mortuary's archives is 50 years later, when some Initiate stumbled upon a house filled with corpses, probably located in Undersigil. The bodies have been rearranged and modified- or perhaps defiled in most unusual ways- the records are not clear on this.
The initiate and his companions faced the cultists in battle and slew them but when doing so were attacked by undead as well- a must unusual thing, a true breach of the Death Truce.
Thirty years pass then some pamphlet turned up in Sigil, encouraging the undead to embrace their passions to grow attached to their unlife, to enjoy their existance to the fullest. First thought to be some Sensate campaign evidence was found that points to the cult as well.
Between all those stories Emmy finds the following facts: The Cult's symbol is a black Orchid, outlined in Blue- sometimes shown to grow from a heartshaped hole in the palm of a humanoid creature.
There are two adresses known- one in Undersigil, the House where the corpses were found. The other one is in the Clerk's Ward, a house where several boxes of the pamphlets had been found.
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*WeWantOneOfOurOwn
- Posts: 15
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Thick drops of brown rain blasted the cobbles of the clerk's ward. Tsorimir stopped under a Gazebo and looked at his fingernails. He hadn't cleaned himself up this thoroughly in over a year. Some day, he thought, this flesh is going to be such a lovely corpseÂ…
Staring at the Civic Festhall, he sighed. He didn't really want to go in there, but if he was going to adorn himself in the sort of frivolous finery necessary to facilitate his assignment he would have to endure the vivacious sensates for a time. When this is over, he thought, I'll bob some leatherheads and watch (from a safe distance, of course) as Adam or Adam put him in the dead book. How he loved to see people get writ in the dead book! He was no stranger to hiring jinkbashers.
#
The sensate clerk showed him yet another ridiculously loud outfit.
"Bar thatÂ… Maybe you have an outfit with more red? Something that won't showÂ… stains?"
"Tend to get a bit of the bub on you from time to time, eh cutter?" The clerk smirked at him. Tsorimir was dressed like a bubber indeed. He'd had to show the color of his jink to obtain assistance from the clerk in the first place. "I have these nice vermillion silk cloaks, andÂ…"
He was tempted to honey-peel the clerk. It would be easy. The clerk could not keep his eyes off of him, now that he'd taken a closer look, seen Tsorimir's graceful movements, watched him try on several outfits. He had taxed Tsorimir's patience greatly. A simple matter to make arrangements to see him someplace less secure. He could ask him to meet some place and send Adam or Adam in his stead to scrub this grinning berk.
But there were more important tasks at hand than satisfying his simple morbid fascination and penchant for cruelty.
#
What seemed like half of a cycle later, he stepped out of the festhall, looking tidy and fetching in impeccable finery, his distinctive silver hair mostly concealed by a striking new chapeau. With a twinkle in his eye, he made his way to the Lady's Ward to make some new friends.
#
((Tsorimir heads to the Lady's Ward and begins mingling with merchants. He doesn't ask any overt questions about the Thanns, but rather tries to ingratiate himself with anyone who might be friends with them. He takes great care to conceal that he's a Dustman, and hires a 10th level rogue from the Night Market to watch his back, from a good safe stealthy distance of course. He also watches closely for any signs of deaders among the wealthy elite, and for anyone he might have seen in the diviner's ritual, especially Eliaz. If he manages to see Eliaz someplace, he would have the rogue follow the Elf and report the establishments and residences he visits))
Staring at the Civic Festhall, he sighed. He didn't really want to go in there, but if he was going to adorn himself in the sort of frivolous finery necessary to facilitate his assignment he would have to endure the vivacious sensates for a time. When this is over, he thought, I'll bob some leatherheads and watch (from a safe distance, of course) as Adam or Adam put him in the dead book. How he loved to see people get writ in the dead book! He was no stranger to hiring jinkbashers.
#
The sensate clerk showed him yet another ridiculously loud outfit.
"Bar thatÂ… Maybe you have an outfit with more red? Something that won't showÂ… stains?"
"Tend to get a bit of the bub on you from time to time, eh cutter?" The clerk smirked at him. Tsorimir was dressed like a bubber indeed. He'd had to show the color of his jink to obtain assistance from the clerk in the first place. "I have these nice vermillion silk cloaks, andÂ…"
He was tempted to honey-peel the clerk. It would be easy. The clerk could not keep his eyes off of him, now that he'd taken a closer look, seen Tsorimir's graceful movements, watched him try on several outfits. He had taxed Tsorimir's patience greatly. A simple matter to make arrangements to see him someplace less secure. He could ask him to meet some place and send Adam or Adam in his stead to scrub this grinning berk.
But there were more important tasks at hand than satisfying his simple morbid fascination and penchant for cruelty.
#
What seemed like half of a cycle later, he stepped out of the festhall, looking tidy and fetching in impeccable finery, his distinctive silver hair mostly concealed by a striking new chapeau. With a twinkle in his eye, he made his way to the Lady's Ward to make some new friends.
#
((Tsorimir heads to the Lady's Ward and begins mingling with merchants. He doesn't ask any overt questions about the Thanns, but rather tries to ingratiate himself with anyone who might be friends with them. He takes great care to conceal that he's a Dustman, and hires a 10th level rogue from the Night Market to watch his back, from a good safe stealthy distance of course. He also watches closely for any signs of deaders among the wealthy elite, and for anyone he might have seen in the diviner's ritual, especially Eliaz. If he manages to see Eliaz someplace, he would have the rogue follow the Elf and report the establishments and residences he visits))
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*Selebius
- Posts: 1073
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Tsorimir mingles with the wealthy and rich, a world so different to the HIve and crypts and halls of the Mortuary.
There are plenty of undead among the wealthy but this is nothing that would be suspicious- after all this is Sigil... and a neverending undead existance makes amassing wealth easy.
It takes a few hours to attune himself, listening and watching he blends in and soon he hears some rumours and discovers some dark:
...the Thanns have hired someone to have revenge for their son's death. They got a special deal, mercs who were very eager to help. But for what price?
...some old warehouse, which belonged to the now defunct Willow&Bells Company was recently rented by some woman who is rumoured to have been seen in Undersigil as well. She might even hail from this location- an affront for the 'true rich and nobles' of course.
...some rich family invested in some new business. Some say they do so as payment for other services or that they were blackmailed to do so. They are now less happy about the deal they got.
"The Willow&Bells? Good old times! Has been some time since I saw the Tree and three Bells crest on a crate. What it looked like? Here, I show you." The old document shows the crest they saw during the scrying, on the wall.
...Tsorimir sees a person whose voice and overall shape matches one of those figures seein during the scrying. The henchman followed that one to the Lower Ward where this person... vanished near some old but large severage pipe which is said to lead to undersigil- if you can survive the toxic fumes that would kill most living beings.
... there are rumours that the elf and Dustman namer Eliaz is crippled or sick. Some say he is unusually pale, others tell of a twisted, crooked arm. Where he stays? He has a kip somewhere near the slags, some say. Others..... well. Looks like he found some rich patrons somewhere here in the Lady's Ward.
He quit the Dusties, too, some say. Chant is he got his sickness there, while handling some dead in the Slags or Undersigil.
There are plenty of undead among the wealthy but this is nothing that would be suspicious- after all this is Sigil... and a neverending undead existance makes amassing wealth easy.
It takes a few hours to attune himself, listening and watching he blends in and soon he hears some rumours and discovers some dark:
...the Thanns have hired someone to have revenge for their son's death. They got a special deal, mercs who were very eager to help. But for what price?
...some old warehouse, which belonged to the now defunct Willow&Bells Company was recently rented by some woman who is rumoured to have been seen in Undersigil as well. She might even hail from this location- an affront for the 'true rich and nobles' of course.
...some rich family invested in some new business. Some say they do so as payment for other services or that they were blackmailed to do so. They are now less happy about the deal they got.
"The Willow&Bells? Good old times! Has been some time since I saw the Tree and three Bells crest on a crate. What it looked like? Here, I show you." The old document shows the crest they saw during the scrying, on the wall.
...Tsorimir sees a person whose voice and overall shape matches one of those figures seein during the scrying. The henchman followed that one to the Lower Ward where this person... vanished near some old but large severage pipe which is said to lead to undersigil- if you can survive the toxic fumes that would kill most living beings.
... there are rumours that the elf and Dustman namer Eliaz is crippled or sick. Some say he is unusually pale, others tell of a twisted, crooked arm. Where he stays? He has a kip somewhere near the slags, some say. Others..... well. Looks like he found some rich patrons somewhere here in the Lady's Ward.
He quit the Dusties, too, some say. Chant is he got his sickness there, while handling some dead in the Slags or Undersigil.
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*WeWantOneOfOurOwn
- Posts: 15
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Tsor returns to the Mortuary and presuming he can find her he reports the concrete details of his observations to Emila, pointing out only the facts and reserving opinions except to point out tersely that it seems probable the Thanns' hired killers are looking for him, although he expresses no open concern about the matter. He points out that the diviner who performed that scrying ritual had a similarly withered and useless arm, like Eliaz.
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*Midnight
- Posts: 870
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Emila looks up from the pile of books she has amassed. She listens to everything in silence her expression not changing.
"We saw Eliaz die, and both of his arms seemed fine at the time. Grafax did not mention any disfigurement when we asked for his description either, and it seems to me to be the kind of thing you'd mention first. So either that is not Eilaz as we saw, or what happened to him did not advance him to the next stage of death, but simply changed him."
She consults her notes.
"I have two houses uses by the cult previously, I cannot enter those uninvited, but you can. First though I think it would be best if we spoke to our diviner friend though, and we will ask about her arm."
"We saw Eliaz die, and both of his arms seemed fine at the time. Grafax did not mention any disfigurement when we asked for his description either, and it seems to me to be the kind of thing you'd mention first. So either that is not Eilaz as we saw, or what happened to him did not advance him to the next stage of death, but simply changed him."
She consults her notes.
"I have two houses uses by the cult previously, I cannot enter those uninvited, but you can. First though I think it would be best if we spoke to our diviner friend though, and we will ask about her arm."
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*WeWantOneOfOurOwn
- Posts: 15
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
((Won't be able to get in game today but happy to play by post, will log in again tomorrow. DM, could we consult diviner again by forum post?))
*after listening and pondering on her words he says*
One wonders if Eliaz's allies cured the arm, or perhaps they caused it. Grafax seemed certain he noticed it. Could these leatherhead cultists be addlecoved enough to spread some disease amongst us? We might also consider the possibility that they've infiltrated us. How long was Eliaz loyal to them, hm? He could have been theirs even before he found his place among us, and there could be others.
*after listening and pondering on her words he says*
One wonders if Eliaz's allies cured the arm, or perhaps they caused it. Grafax seemed certain he noticed it. Could these leatherhead cultists be addlecoved enough to spread some disease amongst us? We might also consider the possibility that they've infiltrated us. How long was Eliaz loyal to them, hm? He could have been theirs even before he found his place among us, and there could be others.
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*Selebius
- Posts: 1073
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
(( You guys going on here is fine for me. ))
Finding Namer Sefia, the Duergar Diviner, should not be hard- she never seems to leave the mortuary.
Checking her schedule reveals she is assisting in Corpse preperation most of the time- or uses her powers as priestess to assist other Dustmen in their tasks. She also sees one of the dustmen physicists daily- some Initiate For.
Finding Namer Sefia, the Duergar Diviner, should not be hard- she never seems to leave the mortuary.
Checking her schedule reveals she is assisting in Corpse preperation most of the time- or uses her powers as priestess to assist other Dustmen in their tasks. She also sees one of the dustmen physicists daily- some Initiate For.
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*WeWantOneOfOurOwn
- Posts: 15
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Tsorimir studied his reflection in a puddle. He could well imagine what his pretty face had looked like, half-melted, blasted by holy energies.
Earlier this cycle he had set off a powerful holy trap, one he'd taken from the cultist's own door, right in its owner's face, with a total lack of regard for his own well-being. It hadn't occured to him that he might actually die in the explosion; he'd seen a vision minutes before the incident and been in a state of utterly fearless detatchment.
He and Emila had entered a stair covered in thousands of insects, and they'd covered his face. He had reached inside himself for all the focus he could muster but hundreds of intrusive crawling things had briefly pierced his sanityÂ… And then there had been a flash of clarity, and he had transcended his own vulnerability, his very mortality, and not only did the insects cease to be an issue for him (though they still crawled across every inch of him) but he felt they were a part of him. It was the destiny of his flesh and bones--like all things-- to be the dirt and breath and dust and life of many other beings less enlightened than he was even now. Long after he had attained the true death, the molecules of his mortal coil would shackle countless other beings.
Unfettered, he had acted recklessly. He hadn't expected the holy blast to destroy his foe utterly, but it had, leaving nothing behind to show that Eliaz had ever existed. The fact of his own exposure to the blast had barely occured to him until he was lying on the floor blind with only half of a face.
He'd expected Emila to punish him. With nothing left of their foe, they were unable to question him... but she'd leaned down and healed him. The burnt flesh of his face reformed amid his screams of pain, his blindness slowly fading, the cancerous growths blooming on his face like flowers in spring.
He would have to be more careful. He had a long way to go before he could reach the true death.
PatienceÂ…
In his reflection in the puddle, he saw centipedes, spiders, big black flies that ate the lashes off his eyelids, worms that crawled in the sockets of his skull, and the skull itself, just another brittle brain-box. A vessel.
((Just a little reflection. Thanks for the inspiration and the damn sweet games, Selebius!))