Shrine of the First Murder

Oh my child, what a wonderful gift you have given the Blood Mother this night! Make haste into the underground, for the calling will be upon you soon! Make haste to her shrine! Meet there the Haruspex, present him your offering, learn your future, and return to us blooded!

— Haemophant of the Cult of the Blood Mother to a new initiate

Yes, I have made the pilgrimage into the darkness and seen that creepy old man with his knife and left my offering for Mistress Murder and no, I don't want to talk about it.

— Ser Broderick Ospak, contract killer

Architecture

The Shrine of the First Murder is a large, surprisingly well built dome-shaped chamber lying deep inside the sewers of Borodino. Two doors lead into the chamber, one to the north and one to the south. Its walls are made from carefully cut and laid grey stones, consistent with much of the rest of the sewer, though its floor is made of large flagstones of seemingly ancient origin. Illumination arises from a single shaft of surprisingly bright light that shines down through some unknown means from a hole in the center of the chamber's roof, landing squarely upon the ancient bloodstains at the center of the floor. A carefully tended ring of bones of varying ages forms a cordon around these hallowed marks. The floorspace not taken up by this central displayed is almost entirely covered in old bloodstains from past offerings. The walls of the chamber are likewise covered in tracks and smears of blood, as well as a profusion of holes, the remnants of bone nails, and currently pinned or decaying offerings. Unsurprisingly, the chamber smells like an abattoir, but most pilgrims describe the smell as less disgusting and more strangely intoxicating. Like most of the sewer, the chamber is cold, but the dampness that prevails throughout the caverns and tunnels leading up to it has no hold in the shrine. There is no evidence of where the Haruspex resides, nor is there any spot for the pilgrim to take a rest other than kneeling, sitting, or lying on the bloodstained flagstones. It is largely agreed that pilgrims almost always arrive from the north door and depart from the south, though what significance this may hold is unclear.

History

It is said that in the earliest days of the world, when Borodino was still but a village, the first of all murders was committed within its boundaries. A woman, her name lost to the sands of time, slew her husband (either in a fit of jealous rage or in an act of calculated revenge for some slight, the storytellers often diverge on this particular point) and thus committed the only killing the young city had so far seen. For the crime, the woman was ultimately killed herself, though the power and potency of her actions, so the story goes, were enough to drive her ascension to godhood. The townsfolk of young Borodino, unsure of how to handle the tragedy that had occurred within their midst, burned the house in which the murder was committed to the ground and shunned the charred ruins ever after. Yet, the site of the first murder in all the world could not remain long ignored, and when the second murderer committed his crime he felt compelled to journey to the burned out husk of an old homestead buried in the heart of the growing village. Within the ruin, he knelt in memory of his predecessor in murder and left a small offering of his own blood on the floor, adding to the bloodstains that were there before him. The third murderer did likewise, dropping this time a small relic of his victim onto the flagstones, and the fourth followed shortly thereafter.

And so, the Shrine to the First Murder, the most sacred site in the worship of Mistress Murder, She of the Stolen Breath, originated. Shunned as it was, no authorities ever came to investigate the old wreckage, and slowly but surely, the city of Borodino grew up, around, and eventually over this ancient derelict, which rotted away in turn until only the bloodstained patch of floor remained in view. It is perhaps unsurprising that the site, given its significance not only to the city of Borodino but to all races, was never paved or built over. The storytellers say that any developer who sought to purchase the land or rework it into something more viable almost always shied away from the deal, perhaps due to the persistent legend that those who unduly disturbed the old ruin had a tendency to meet a grizzly fate.

Whatever the case may be, the Shrine of the First Murder now lies deep within the heart of the complex network of sewers and caverns that lie below the city. Its location is hard to find and known only to those who have committed a murder themselves. Many a zealous follower of the god of justice, ambitious Watch officer, or foolhardy adventurer has gone searching for this infamous chamber, but none have ever returned from their quest... at least not in one piece. The storytellers speak of ancient guardians, the spirits of the other earliest murderers, damned forever to serve Mistress Murder in defense of the site of her monumental action, though few know if these tales bear truth. Other posit that the mysterious, dreadful Haruspex, who might contain more than a sliver of divine power in his ancient frame, is the only defender of the shrine, stalking and killing any non-believers or enemies he finds seeking the sacred chamber. More likely perhaps is that the infamous Cult of the Blood Mother dutifully patrols the boundaries of the shrine's section of the sewers, slaying those unworthy individuals who get too close to the ancient bloodstains upon the floor.

The Pilgrimage

All who have committed a murder within Borodino will feel the compulsion to visit the Shrine of the First Murder not long after they have done the deed. Some resist this siren's call long enough for the urge to fade away, while others revel in the opportunity to bring their offering to Mistress Murder and leave it upon her most sacred altar. Strangely, it is said that those who kill in self-defense or for a righteous cause do not feel this compulsion, though whether this is a convenient lie certain organizations spread to protect their own reputations is a matter of some debate. Regardless, those who fail to shrug off the urge to visit the shrine find themselves descending into the dark and twisted sewer tunnels beneath the city. Those who are capable of doing so often bring with them an offering connected to their victim, most usually a body part or blood, for pilgrims who do not bring such a trophy will instead need to provide their own blood as tribute to She of the Stolen Breath.

After a lengthy journey through the tunnels (no visitor has ever yet really been able to estimate just how long they spent winding their way to the shrine, if they even talk about the experience at all), a strange figure emerges from the darkness to confront the pilgrim. This individual, known in legend and to the Cult of the Blood Mother as the Haruspex, is always described as a ragged, mostly naked old man with a frazzled, lengthy white beard and maddened eyes. He carries only a jagged, flinty dagger clenched in his fist, which many a taleteller claims is the blade that Mistress Murder used to kill her victim millennia ago, and has no tongue, thus remaining mute the entire time he is in the presence of the traveller. It is the Haruspex who leads the pilgrim into the Shrine proper, where a single shaft of light illuminates the room, allowing the supplicant to proffer their offering to the Blood Mother and gaze upon the ancient bloodstains on the ground that she created.

According to legend, if the Haruspex finds the offering of a body part worthy, he pins it to the walls of the chamber with strange nails made of bone, allowing it to slowly slide down to the ground over time and reading futures and portents in its passage. Mistress Murder then whispers these auguries into the distant dreams of the pilgrim, be they bad or ill. Those who do not bring an offering the Haruspex cuts with his ancient blade, dribbling their blood on the ground of the chamber to join the host of similar bloodstains there. Once the ritual is complete, the Haruspex leads the pilgrim from the Shrine back into the winding passageways of the sewers, disappearing back into the darkness as suddenly as he emerged.

Murderer Florentine DiVallei's sketch of the Haruspex

The journey thus finished, the pilgrim is not obligated to return to the shrine, though it is said that many do so again and again in the future, bringing an offering to their dark patron each time they make a kill in Borodino's chaotic streets.

Deep beneath Borodino lies Mistress Murder's most sacred shrine...

Type

Shrine