But at least you know another player on the board.
Well, this is concerning, but an important lead. The big problem is if this is related to the forecoming DOOM, or if this is a third party at work screwing things up. Either way, it seems someone in undermining the Temples and by extension the ability of the Gods to protect their followers.
"So pleased" he simpers "that we have such an honored clergyman considering our services, yes, yes. May I ask the nature of your relatives' affliction?"
Oh I already don't trust you. That speech feels like it could come straight from a Skaven.
And you're both off. The Ward, it turns out, has four wings, for the four types of mental affliction the Shallyans believe can occur per the imbalance of the humours, and the resultant vulnerability to corruption from, as Spivoni calls them "outside forces".
On the one hand, with the Four as a thing it's not wildly implausible for things to develop this way. On the other, this does not bode well.
First, and what you walk by quite quickly, is those who have an excess of yellow bile, and are therefore prey for the rageful. Here is the dark end of the care of lunatics, where they have not progressed a bit from the days you imprisoned your mad uncle in the cellar of your house. Here are fellows; mostly men, mostly soldiers, as Spivoni says, that have perhaps indulged too deeply in the arts of Khaine. They are chained to their beds, their legs manacled, each not able to walk perhaps a foot away, only to their toilet and sink in their prison cells. Still, they shout and jeer as you wander by, screaming obscenities and a thousand ways to kill you.
"Is there no way to calm them?" you ask.
"Sarriel's Draught, yes, yes – but the expense is too much. Twelve patients in here in the last two weeks! Better to let them tucker themselves out; in the cages, they're hardly any harm".
Another incident of repeating words, and I already don't want to leave the other Morrites with them.
The doctor seems to take note of your alarm. His face finally turns a bit grave. "We accept everyone, Master Xenophon. Anyone at all. People take advantage of that charity – but we cannot say no."
That one I can't actually blame him for. As horrific as it is, it's a symptom of the greater decay (hah) of the city. I imagine if we investigated the Shallyans we'd find a similar problem to the Temple of Myrmidia.
"Ignore them, please."
"But what do they do?"
"Nothing."
"Isn't that torturous?"
"Pleasure inflames the blood. Boredom dulls it and has never killed anyone."
You know, I have to wonder if you're a fan of the Failbetter games (Fallen London, Sunless Seas, Sunless Skies etc.) because this whole section feels like something I'd have expected to see from those games. A few of your scenes have made me think that actually.
Also JFC this place is disturbing.
The last wing is one great cell, with about a hundred people in it. They are not moaning or threatening or begging, though crammed in they are, with hardly a place to lie down. In fact, they seemed to be calmly conversing, only to lapse in perfect silence as you and the Doctor pass by.
I'm filled with dread.
He seems slightly embarrassed. "Too much phlegm. Plotters. Mostly drapteomaniacs."
"I'm sorry?" You're not familiar with the term.
"Slaves, my lord – slaves who keep rebelling."
You're angry now. "What?"
"The Princeps' reform, my lord. A mercy! No more capital punishment for a slave's treason. They cannot help it, you see, a disease of the mind – so if their masters cannot deal with them, we take them." A pause. "We cannot afford to not take the funding."
What's drapteomania?
*
Looks it up*
Well now I'm pissed!
"Morr speaks." You take off your overwrought silver-and-obsidian crown. You toss it to the Doctor, who brightens.
"Of course, milord – this shall be more than enough for-
"Ten."
"More than suitable."
Sigh... Xenophon, I understand the feeling, but you could've at least waited to see what his original offer was. You could probably have got double or more free.
A few days later, a box is delivered to the Roost.
You open it. It's full of casino chips – probably a thousand sestertii worth. Further, there's a note.
"Hail, Son of Aoife, Friend of the House. Room 9 is reserved for you."
The House is sounding a bit like a Railroad. It's probably worth investigating at least. At the very least, we might be able to arrange an evacuation under the guise of freeing slaves, though that's getting a bit close to metagaming.
The Lady Tophania sends for you to bury her husband.
So, the Elf lady we met who seemed more curious at what we'd do at the theatre than the multiple murders is calling for us to perform funeary rights for her husband. I did initially forget the man was human, which made me suspicious as to why an elf would call for a human god to perform the rights, but I suppose it's fair for her to have a human God intern her human husband.
Definitely feels like she only married the man for his money though. I half suspect this isn't the first time a spouse of hers has suffered a sudden death.
He had two sons, and two daughters; Lucanius, who is a banker, Sonia, a spinster, Angelus
and Angelus Spania, my brother-in-law and Keeper of the Prison of Mirrors –oops"
So this is possibly an error. Angelus is mentioned in Turn One Results (Part 2) - Overture as her brother-in-law, but in this chapter he's mentioned as the son of Sercopius, which would make him her nephew-in-law.
The first option is a retractable punch dagger, oozing with Ulgu.
Nothing is true, everything is permitted.
So, a hidden blade style weapon. On the one hand it's pretty useful, on the other it's particularly vulnerable to magic. Then again, what isn't?
The second weapon is a brass aspergillum.
I do not trust this. Brass and bull head? This feels like a piece of Khornate artifice. We don't sense any divinity from it, so I'd guess it was either never finished or something, but I'm not a fan of touching it.
The third, Ambrose apparently purchased only at the repeated insistence of a member of the Cleansing Flame. It's a slightly rusted iron gladius, a standard one, like any in the legions would bear. A name is engraved, though almost worn away with age: N - - - HO.
Oh goody, Necoho. This'd be perfect if we took the other origins. As is, I'm not going to vote for it. The connection to Morr is too valuable to lose. If we still have it, we could see about giving it to any servant we hire though.
[X] Hire in-house care.
[X] Don't.
[X] The twin-bladed obsidian dagger
For the first vote, I literally do not trust the Law Gods to be any better than the Shallyans and the Myrmidians; I feel like they'd be one of the first groups you undercut. For the second, I feel taking a moral stance is an important step in doing as much good as we can. For the third, it's pretty much just that the other two are not things I want.