Post by Inquisitor Crowley on Sept 29, 2021 9:35:31 GMT -5
Your Excellency,
May this letter find you and our beloved nation in good health and high spirits, ahead of my imminent return to Messiora and the good work of the Inquisition. As the train carries me home, the righteous fire I thought would dim within me has only flared ever brighter. On my last journey home, I would never have imagined it would be so long before I once again stepped upon Galdria's blighted shores. Now, even knowing only a scant few months separates me from the next expedition, my soul yearns restlessly to stand upon that ground again and to see Altina's justice done even in Ora's darkest corners.
Our initial outing into the Blighted Zone this expedition came at the behest of representatives from S.I.R.E.N., seeking samples from numerous blighted pods located in the depths of the corruption. My duty to the expedition overrode my frank disgust for the S.I.R.E.N. leeches, but it was what they did not tell us that gave me pause. We received reports of a blighted dragon, massive and deadly, waiting for us in the forest. The beast we encountered more than exceeded my worst expectations, both in its sheer monstrousness, and the agony that clutched my heart to see so noble a creature brought low. If there were ever a sight to steel my nerve against the horrors of the Blight, let it be to prevent such a travesty from ever occurring again.
On the matter of the Blight, there are whispers among the more focused researchers of the Expedition that the Entity is now seeking one who will teach it emotion, and that it believes such a thing will be our undoing. One shudders at the thought. As things stand, I almost feel as though I can understand the Blight, adapting to survive, clawing at scraps to identify itself. Will the Blight still be recognizable if it learns to feel? Will it learn love? Hate? Sin? I cannot imagine a more dangerous construction than a Blight infected with the same mortal flaws of character as the rest of us.
With such flaws heavy in my mind, I owe you yet another confession, your Excellency, for my most recent failure may have brought catastrophe upon us all. At the behest of a representative of the Circle of Blood called Raziel, myself and a handful of other expeditioners were called to investigate the former dwelling of an ancient, powerful demonologist. Here, we discovered three greater demons, safeguarding something powerful and dangerous that the demonologist had sealed away. We attempted the demonologists puzzle, but whether by our failure or by our success, the seal was broken and the captive set free. Your Excellency, it pains me to say that we have unleashed Pride into the world, as both the Sin and its shrine were contained within the sealed room. The shrine has been recovered, but the Sin has escaped us, and as of this moment I know not how we will contend with it.
In the past, the Expedition has often relied on the talents of an archaeologist named Soria in their dealings with the Sin shrines. My own experience with the woman was concerning, as I recall her very much wishing for those who discovered the Wrath shrine to interact with it in dangerous ways, in the name of discovery. Now, it seems, her hunger for knowledge may have indeed gone too far. There are reports that she has wielded the power of Apathy to subdue and confound one of the expeditioners, and that she has since gone to ground and remains impossible to find. Words cannot describe the fury I feel to have stood in the presence of such depravity and been ignorant to it, sullying my soul in Wrath and Ignorance in equal measure. I shall find my penance in the hunt. By Altina's justice, in the sight of all the Gods, I swear that she will be found, and her foul corruption thrust into the light where it can be burned away in divine fire.
What more remains to be said about this expedition? If you will permit me the indulgence of an admittedly frivolous aside: I do not like fey. Whether by the unpredictable hazard they represent or their insufferable joviality, they are the niggling ray of sunshine that pierces the clouds to somehow leave you sunburned on the most overcast day. They are the gentle and open path in a harsh and tangled wood that leads you directly into a den of wolves. Forests are overrated and the sooner we can figure out how to get along without nature, the better off we will all be. I may be harboring some deep-seated resentment after encountering all of the fey, all of the time, forever this expedition. But I truly believe that if I never see another scarecrow thirsting after my blood, or am struck in the back by absolutely nothing but the faintest smell of dead cat, it will be too soon.
Thank you for receiving my words, your Excellency. Please pass along my warmest regards to Sister Leanna Yates for her assistance and counsel at this expedition, and anticipate my complete report to be forthcoming upon my return to Messiora.
I remain your humble and most devoted servant,
Lord-Apprentice Inquisitor Silas Crowley
May this letter find you and our beloved nation in good health and high spirits, ahead of my imminent return to Messiora and the good work of the Inquisition. As the train carries me home, the righteous fire I thought would dim within me has only flared ever brighter. On my last journey home, I would never have imagined it would be so long before I once again stepped upon Galdria's blighted shores. Now, even knowing only a scant few months separates me from the next expedition, my soul yearns restlessly to stand upon that ground again and to see Altina's justice done even in Ora's darkest corners.
Our initial outing into the Blighted Zone this expedition came at the behest of representatives from S.I.R.E.N., seeking samples from numerous blighted pods located in the depths of the corruption. My duty to the expedition overrode my frank disgust for the S.I.R.E.N. leeches, but it was what they did not tell us that gave me pause. We received reports of a blighted dragon, massive and deadly, waiting for us in the forest. The beast we encountered more than exceeded my worst expectations, both in its sheer monstrousness, and the agony that clutched my heart to see so noble a creature brought low. If there were ever a sight to steel my nerve against the horrors of the Blight, let it be to prevent such a travesty from ever occurring again.
On the matter of the Blight, there are whispers among the more focused researchers of the Expedition that the Entity is now seeking one who will teach it emotion, and that it believes such a thing will be our undoing. One shudders at the thought. As things stand, I almost feel as though I can understand the Blight, adapting to survive, clawing at scraps to identify itself. Will the Blight still be recognizable if it learns to feel? Will it learn love? Hate? Sin? I cannot imagine a more dangerous construction than a Blight infected with the same mortal flaws of character as the rest of us.
With such flaws heavy in my mind, I owe you yet another confession, your Excellency, for my most recent failure may have brought catastrophe upon us all. At the behest of a representative of the Circle of Blood called Raziel, myself and a handful of other expeditioners were called to investigate the former dwelling of an ancient, powerful demonologist. Here, we discovered three greater demons, safeguarding something powerful and dangerous that the demonologist had sealed away. We attempted the demonologists puzzle, but whether by our failure or by our success, the seal was broken and the captive set free. Your Excellency, it pains me to say that we have unleashed Pride into the world, as both the Sin and its shrine were contained within the sealed room. The shrine has been recovered, but the Sin has escaped us, and as of this moment I know not how we will contend with it.
In the past, the Expedition has often relied on the talents of an archaeologist named Soria in their dealings with the Sin shrines. My own experience with the woman was concerning, as I recall her very much wishing for those who discovered the Wrath shrine to interact with it in dangerous ways, in the name of discovery. Now, it seems, her hunger for knowledge may have indeed gone too far. There are reports that she has wielded the power of Apathy to subdue and confound one of the expeditioners, and that she has since gone to ground and remains impossible to find. Words cannot describe the fury I feel to have stood in the presence of such depravity and been ignorant to it, sullying my soul in Wrath and Ignorance in equal measure. I shall find my penance in the hunt. By Altina's justice, in the sight of all the Gods, I swear that she will be found, and her foul corruption thrust into the light where it can be burned away in divine fire.
What more remains to be said about this expedition? If you will permit me the indulgence of an admittedly frivolous aside: I do not like fey. Whether by the unpredictable hazard they represent or their insufferable joviality, they are the niggling ray of sunshine that pierces the clouds to somehow leave you sunburned on the most overcast day. They are the gentle and open path in a harsh and tangled wood that leads you directly into a den of wolves. Forests are overrated and the sooner we can figure out how to get along without nature, the better off we will all be. I may be harboring some deep-seated resentment after encountering all of the fey, all of the time, forever this expedition. But I truly believe that if I never see another scarecrow thirsting after my blood, or am struck in the back by absolutely nothing but the faintest smell of dead cat, it will be too soon.
Thank you for receiving my words, your Excellency. Please pass along my warmest regards to Sister Leanna Yates for her assistance and counsel at this expedition, and anticipate my complete report to be forthcoming upon my return to Messiora.
I remain your humble and most devoted servant,
Lord-Apprentice Inquisitor Silas Crowley