Sigil: City of Doors

A heavily armored and armed fiend clad entirely in light-devouring black approaches one of the faction clerks, requesting membership in the Society. Bored, probably expecting yet another fiend trying to buy entry with some predictable experience of sadism or hedonistic excess, the clerk takes the applicant to a side room and allows them to utilize a Sensory Stone to record their offering.

wrote:The first thing a viewer of this sensory stone would be aware of is complete and utter darkness. Yet this is not a monochrome darkness or the absence of visual information one might expect from blindness, but a rich tapestry of subtle gradients of darkness. The blackest greens the eyes could possibly conceive of feather the inky skies with vast, cluttered canopies of leaves.

Umbral blues, reds, pinks, yellows and purples of petals, grasses and buds rustle faintly as a thick darkness moves among them like some obscuring wind. A barely discernible wisp of shadow in the vague shape of a rat scurries up a nearby tree, its little footfalls adding nothing to the unnatural silence of the copse.

Fear and adrenaline wash over the user of the Sensory Stone as the silence is broken by a guttural cacophony of grumbles, howls and shrieks from a nearby clump of bushes. A more solid mote of darkness erupts from the branches and leaves, a howler with pitch black skin and dead onyx eyes lunging for the throat. The viewer's hands lash out, six-fingered and strong, grabbing the beast's jaws by the teeth as it tumbles over their body, while shattering its back knee with a sharp kick with a single hoofed foot. As soon as it lands, its back leg collapsing under its weight with a hideous snarl, a surge of murderous hatred rages through the viewer's muscles as they rip the lower jaw straight from the howler's skull and bludgeon it mercilessly to death.

The memory slowly fades as retractable claws are extended to begin skinning the beast.

The stone would be labelled 'Abyss, Shaddonon: Howler Ambush' for future reference.

The clerk returns, placing the sensory stone on the table and takes a seat. then from under her folds, she takes out a badge, offering it black fiend'

"What is your name?" She asks while her arm is held out

Vherr reaches out with a six-fingered hand and plucks the badge deftly from the clerk.

'Tag's Vherr. If ye need someone ta contribute muscle ta security, find los' goods, explore new planar pathways, or keep an eye abyss-side, I think I kin be o' use ta ye lot.'

"Welcome to the Society Vherr. If you need anything you can always come to me here or find a Factor to assist you."

She goes back to her normal duties, grins as a idea strikes her,

"Security you say? Hm, you might want to speak with either Factor Quinn or Factor Sasha. They have been looking into some matter that is security related. "

---

[align=center]This stone is recorded as being withdrawn for viewing by one Odette Vieuxpont.[/align]
During the anti-peak of the 2nd Void of The Pivot, a woman, recognizable for golden hair and the scarred features of freckled visage, spends some time inquiring after the aforementioned stone; describing the contents and the Namer from whom it was submitted to the clerk. After a time spent patiently waiting, the sphere is carefully toted toward one of the pillowed mats for viewing. Witnessed placing bronzed digits upon the orb, russet lashes of the Bleaker drew shut for cinematic vision. When finished, after a time of contemplative silence and the scribble of several notes, the stone is returned to sensorium's clerk with a polite dip of head in gratitude.

---

wrote:A bright moon dominates the sky, the centerpiece of the deep blue and silver tapestry of the Karasuthran horizon. Your six-fingered paw, covered in sleek black fur, grips a rocky outcropping with long sharp claws and ridged finger pads while goat-like legs balance easily on a narrow ledge jutting out from the sheer cliff. The river tumbles down that self-same cliff with a deafening roar and a rumble that can be felt deep in your chest. Your ears twitch and turn back and upward at the sound of mortal chatter on the plateau above, but quickly tune it out as the scent hits your nostrils.

Wet fur, rotting meat rolling off the heavy breathing, sweat and musk and death.

You grin, feeling large feline fangs filling your mouth, as you begin leaping down the cliff, swinging from rock to ledge, to tenacious tree clinging to the cliff. The essence of the beastlands fills your lungs and rushes through your muscles, fine-tuning many small details throughout your body to a fine predatory edge.

As soon as the damp ground is beneath your hooves you slink into the long reeds and grasses that carpet the riverbank. A thrill of anticipation courses through you as you sense the presence of your quarry, a predator that shares your essence. You crouch motionless for what seems like hours, cloaked and sheltered by the darkness of the midnight realm.

Then you see it, the fierce yellow eye staring back at you from among the reeds, its immense striped body slowly coming into focus where it crouches. A massive tiger, the apex ambush predator and your spirit-kin. Suddenly the eye is gone, and you are above the tiger, thrice as big as yourself, falling through the air toward it. You land heavily on its back with your hooves and rake your claws around its throat, but it bucks you off and swings at your head with a paw twice its size. The clawed skull-crusher swings wide by several inches, then in the next instant you're behind the beast, slashing at the tendons in its legs.

And so the hunt goes, shadow jumps, lightning strikes, melting away into the shadows to strike again, the beast is bled and harassed into death. The last sensations you feel are pride, satisfaction, exhaustion and hunger as you rip the beast's heart from its tattered chest and gorge yourself on its meat.

A new sensory stone appears in the public sensorium, and coincidentally, a new tiger-skin rug finds a home somewhere nearby.