Amongst the Sin Eaters

Never Trust a Necromancer

I had thought discussing things with the Morgana would be fruitful. Donizetti seemed to trust them enough to set up a meeting with the coven at the party. What a mistake that was. It is no wonder the arrogant bastards caused a war with my clan all those centuries ago.

In spite of everything I told him, and that Hatabis clearly choose me, the speaker for the clan, Grit would have none of. Perhaps his mind is as rotted as his body. I understand “clan business” and I can understand his desire to keep this an in-clan matter. But how could he so blatantly refuse me like that? Would someone who was unworthy have been received the cube?

I should really have known not to expect better from those filthy kurrs, especially since it sounds like they see this as a promised “end of days.” I will not lay down like a dog and just accept the fate others have bestowed upon me though. Not before I was reborn as Donizetti’s childe, not now, not while I am more than a pile of ashes

To make matters worse, Adamine was just as provoked by Grit as I was. I tried to silence her for her own good, but I fear she may have taken it the wrong way. Who knows what a powerful necromancer could do to one of us. Had that damn cadaver hurt her, I would have slaughtered him and all remaining shamblers in the room. I do not want to be the one who starts a new clan war between Sorae and Morgana though.

In the end, Grit refused to make a compromise. Should I ever see him again, I will see just how formidable the stiff truly is, especially if I get him alone. I fear that it might be the act that truly damns me though, because I want not just his blood, but his soul as well.

I feel I am finding myself near the ends of patience and sanity. All that I have sacrificed, all that I have endured, and for what? I put my own needs and desires to the side to find the answers to this mystery, and maybe even save the world. But is it even worth saving? Am I a fool for having abandoned my search for Ezenna to pursue what I deemed “the greater good”? I may not be a devotee like Adamine is, but I am still more than willing to do my part to make this world a better place for the innocents. I’m just not willing to let them die because I hold any faith that one of the gods, who are rightfully fickle, will protect or save the worthy from those who they deem to not be.

The scrying stone proved somewhat fruitful. I was rather surprised that Adamine was willing to shed her blood to help us further our quest, but I am glad that she did. Perhaps she sees merit in what we are trying to do. Had Donizetti not stopped me, I would have searched for Ezenna with the stone next. Perhaps I still shall soon.

Alas, as we were trying to decide what we were going to do next, things devolved into bickering and infighting, again. Why must this always happen, and why is Adamine so willing to torture others to get what she wants? I know going to the Jzari Corps headquarters may not be the best idea, but what else can we do? I will not harm family members who may or may not be able to help us anyways just to satisfy Adamine’s need for justice.

Still, I fear the events of the night and what has been said may have been too much for her. Despite her age and potency, she seems very fragile at times. She stormed off when we were trying to finalize our decision of what to do next. I know I should go after her, but I don’t know what I should say.

Do I risk exposing my feelings when I know very well she may reject me completely or question my motives? It is too late to debate this any longer. I have let Ezenna slip through my fingers to be a hero. I will not lose Adamine as well. At least not without having said my piece first. If the gods truly care for any of us, may they grant me the proper words to say so this doesn’t all just blow up in my face.

~ Rastan Taranul
– Haltiatar childe of Donizetti Divatikol, Svarkaname Sorae elder of the great city of Amal -

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Breaking Point

Adamine 6

The sound of the door slamming shut behind me is still fading when I am halfway down the hallway, my fists clenched and mind roiling with questions.

Why is everyone so unwilling to do what it takes to save the world?

Why are they so unwilling to listen to any plan which may actually work? I turn the corner.

Why are they willing to let people who are obviously in on the problem go free? I storm down the stairs.

Why is every word from my mouth ignored? I break into a run.

How can all these with power just sit by and indulge in their putrid vices while the world crumbles around them?

How can I open their eyes? My lip curls as I almost topple over a malaphant and its thrall engaged in indecent acts.

How am I to fulfill my duty and penance when I am so completely and totally powerless? My surroundings become a red blur as my eyes fill with frustrated tears.

What must I do to regain Thule’s favor?

Why, after eons, is it still not enough? The rooms and their vile occupants flash by.

Have I not proven myself loyal and repentant?

Do I not deserve rest, after wearing myself ragged in His name? I run out the front door and towards Guardian.

Is it foolish pride to think that Thule would ever forgive one such as I, would ever deem me worthy of the removal of this punishing sight?

Is there any point in hoping anymore, after all this time?

If there is no hope, for either me or the world, why not just give in to weakness and take what base pleasures I can?

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Shadows of Wickedness
by Shadow Orchid aka BatCat

Ask anyone infected with pride about something, and they’ll tell you how much more they know about it than you. And don’t you dare tell them otherwise, especially if they have any kind of power over you. You’ll soon be at their mercy. It won’t be a surprise, either. But they will make sure you are thoroughly put in your place before they reveal you are there at their request, be it their thumb or a thumb they control that you are under. This is a risk we take when going on any kind of noble venture to undermine the forces of evil. And yet, how can good triumph over evil when we contemplate resorting to evil deeds as a means to victory? I would like to assume Adamine to be jesting when she mentions torture so casually, but I know she is not one to make light of, well, anything…ever. It disturbs me to the point of blocking such vile suggestions from my mind, which seemed to vex her when I asked what she actually wanted to do. I admit that my methods of intimidation may seem ‘torturous’ to the weak-willed, but intense mental and physical torture is never justifiable, no matter what kind of excuse you try to concoct. Unfortunately, if this is the route our party decides to take, I believe I may have joined the wrong team.

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Strings of Shadows
by Shadow Orchid aka Eliza

Life, undeath, sanity, reality…it all unravels when you let that ball of yarn fall free from your grasp. Who we have control over, as well as who controls us, is never simple or apparent as it may seem. Sometimes that ball of yarn is knocked away, and you can either watch helplessly or clumsily scramble after it to stop the unraveling. Witnessing this happen to someone, or the aftermath, is hard to turn away from. You may or may not have wished it on them, but you thank the Gods it wasn’t you, and pray to them you’re not next. Then you go about your business, whatever crazy shit that may be. You use your skills to help you and yours survive. And if things go your way, you’ll still be holding the ball at the end of the night. Just don’t forget, tomorrow might be worse, so hold tight.

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A Violent Shadow
by Shadow Orchid aka Eliza

Everyone has their own personal problems they must resolve. Men & Beasts, Malaphants & Gods. Many here in Amal respond with violence; it’s all they know. Regrets over a primitive and simple use of violence can be crushing. Even sophisticated plans that incorporate violence will inevitably lead to the damage of one part or another. That’s the point of violence anyway, right?

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Whose Afraid of Sofy Annabella?

So after trying to find some answers, it took a turn that we weren’t expecting. Somehow it all lead back to Miss Sofy Annabella. It seems that she has a whole other side to her. And that her retainer Adam Atreall was the man from the night we woke up in the crypt. I’m not sure what she spoke of with Shadow, but I was able to talk with Adam during that time. I got some answers, but not nearly as many as I wanted. Adam seems deathly afraid of Sofy’s other personality, to the point that he believes even saying the name of the other will make her awake. Perhaps we will discover the truth of the matter very soon. But for now we just need to push forward.

~ Rastan Taranul
– Haltiatar childe of Donizetti Divatikol, Svarkaname Sorae elder of the great city of Amal -

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Eliza's Shadow
by Shadow Orchid aka Eliza

The whims of the powerful are fickle and nonsensical. That’s because they can afford to be. The silencing of negative reactions to them can be swift & merciless. They could also choose to make an example of the nay-sayer, torturing them as a cat does a mouse, until they become bored and finally end it. It can be difficult to gage the power of a Malaphant. It is required in our very nature that we pretend to be what we are not. The longer we are around, the easier it becomes to mask other things about ourselves. This can become a necessity to survival, especially if we develop particularly nasty habits. In this town, ‘nasty habits’ are a way of life. Those of us interested in a more righteous path, fight not an uphill battle, but straight up a wall. Falls are more treacherous, blows from above heavier, and sometimes just hanging on without progress is your only option. And sometimes, to avoid an impossible battle, you must show humility, and call for a truce. Living or undead, we are all selfish creatures, and tend to take things too personal. Setting your selfish pride aside and owning up to a mistake is an option many in power never consider, and a recourse the powerless are loathe to undertake. Who wants to publicize their failure to others, whether en masse or one-on-one? To admit their defeat? That they’ve lost ground in the vertical wars we fight with each other, with the world? Nobody. In fact, it can embarrass the ones you beg forgiveness of because the occurrence is so uncommon that it catches them off guard. You’ve put them on the spot to come up with a task of some kind for you to undertake to gain their forgiveness, so be prepared to follow through. If you’re lucky, the act of showing submission and requesting to be forgiven is enough. It’s possible that it will be a more demeaning show of submission such as a public flogging. Or it could be something completely random and harmless, such as what I encountered. Even though I trust I am forgiven, I know my trespasses will never be forgotten, by neither Sofy nor myself. There is much work to be done, a swath of mysteries to unravel, and not having the dagger of an unstable elder at my back is preferred.

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Like Pulling Teeth

Donizetti had us meeting with an informant of his, a ryuube named Spot. For every straight answer we got from him, I swear the damn mutt looped the conversation around at least twice. I don’t know if it were intentional, or just how ryuube are. Lucky nothing in the sewer got the poor fellow, but the whole conversation almost made my brain hurt. Hopefully we will have more answers soon, as I’m getting tired of feeling like we’re running in circles.

~ Rastan Taranul
– Haltiatar childe of Donizetti Divatikol, Svarkaname Sorae elder of the great city of Amal -

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Where Shadows May Lead
by Shadow Orchid aka BatCat

Theories come and go like sand through your fingers. You think you have something solid, but scrutiny exposes the frailty of the chunk you hold, and it dissolves away into nothing. Yet you move on to the next one, hoping that, as the sand slips away, a gem of knowledge will be left behind. As anything in life, sorting through theories can be interrupted. This mewling pup, though I suppose he has his uses, presents his finding sprinkled with his own petty concerns. I can’t help but feel annoyed by the Ryuube. I have heard tales of the ancient feud between our cat and dog ancestors, before we even came to this planet. Though his personal concerns have validity, I feel minimal sympathy for our stuttering, little informant. Still, I’m curious to see where this all leads…

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Socializing

So in an attempt to find more answer, Donizetti held quite the party. Most of the people I was familiar with from past gathers showed up. I must be honest, I was a bit surprised that the Morgana showed up. Perhaps there is information to be gained from them. There were a few bigger surprised that the night held.

For the first time since I’ve known her, I saw others for the first time treat Shadow Orchid as though she’s got some stigma attached to her. Sofy was harmless enough, if enraptured by Shadow’s strange appearance. It was later when some howdy-towdy malaphants I was not familiar with started in on her that I saw for the first time the truth of her claims of being an outcast. I nearly drew my rapier to run the scurvy mongrels through, when Donizetti stepped in and politely told those pretentious assholes off. They said they would make him pay for what he did. Maybe if we are successful in doing something about the zombies, the bullies will get their chance. If they push the matter though, I’m sure the city and our not-always-polite society will not miss them one bit.

Adamine ran into quite a surprise. Apparently another of her clan nearly as old as she showed up. This Nellim claimed to be a lover of Adamine’s sire. Adamine seemed shocked and disgusted. Despite my efforts to determine whether the lady was lying, I was unable to do so. If the woman had indeed been a lover to Adamine’s sire, perhaps he showed a different side to her than he had shown Adamine. He must have been quiet evil to Adamine, because I heard the contempt in her voice when we discussed the topic. Hopefully she will be alright.

Much to my surprise, Donizetti and I, well and also Ezenna wherever she is, are not the only Sorae in the city. Perhaps my sire has intentionally stayed out of touch with his clan after the betrayal surrounding Ezenna. A most aureate Sorae came to our home, acting as those we owed him something. What an ass! For some reason, he had sewer mud on his shoes when I had the displeasure of making his acquaintance. He said that he had just stepped in, and judging by the way he was acting with the other elders, I left it at that, though I told Donizetti about the warlock. Making such an accusation would not go unpunished, even were it true. Hopefully, I shall never have this bastard cross my path again. Nearly every fiber of my being wanted to pounce upon this asinine creature and drain him of his existence, but Donizetti had taught me better than to resist those dark urges. Still, I hope something appropriately foul befalls the man.

Despite the party seeming like it might just be the place to find some answers, it proved lacking. If any were found, it was not by me. It was a nice little reminder of just what my place in our society is. Hopefully something beneficial will be gained, otherwise I’m not sure what the point of the whole evening was other than to pretend everything was business as usual. There is more going on in this city than these parties would suggest, and I will not rest until I learn more. Perhaps in time I will come to regret that decision.

It seems that Shadow has something she wants to talk to me about. Perhaps she will want me to help her get in touch with those Gairenons she was chatting up. At least, there were some good things about this party as well then. Maybe it wasn’t such a waste of time after all.

~ Rastan Taranul
– Haltiatar childe of Donizetti Divatikol, Svarkaname Sorae elder of the great city of Amal -

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