I am, as I have always been, a son of the Nyassar Empire, and everything within this exposé is accounted for precisely as it happened. There have been strange events that I have been a witness to in my fair city, in my fairer homeland, and it is for love of my country that I pen them down here to bring light to such dark matters.
But let us start at the beginning. I was born in the Empire, the second son to one of the most ancient and noble families, though we had fallen on hard times through misfortune and poor luck. Despite that, our bloodline was still traced back to a long dead and many times great grandfather, who is one of the emperors who held the throne the longest. I need not tell you, gentle reader, more about him, for this is not his tale, though without his blood and without his direction, both I and my family would long since have fallen into ruin. The trouble though that I will detail in this account began when I was attending a party at a noble estate. My hostess, Lady Teocaide Lavontaine, had been throwing a most lavish party as she was known to do. I had been invited, everyone in the city had been and many nobles from out of it too had traveled there.
I had left my cleric behind as I went into a secluded back room, where I had earlier arranged to meet with a particular knight who had sent a message detailing such a request. I was very familiar with the Lavontaine estate and its layout, for I had spent much time here before in my youth.
As I stepped through dimly lit halls with dust covered curtains, I could not help but notice as I passed by the office of Lady Teocaide that her room was in disarray. There were a great many papers scattered about, pouring from her desk, all over the floor in piles. Thinking that perhaps I could help put things to right, I stepped into the office and came face to face with the familiar portrait hanging above the desk of my esteemed hostess’ mother. Her familiar, stern glare stopped me for a moment, my boots clicking to a halt as I pulled my cloak tight around me, her red gaze seeming to pierce me even though she was oil and pigment.
Teocaide looked more like her mother than her older brother had, with the same sharp cheeks and pointed chin and thin, straight hair that hung down limp and white. In the portrait, though, her mother wore some dark purple affair with her hair half pinned up and a disapproving sneer on her lips. That was a face I knew well, and a face that despite her illness, looked back at me still in Teocaide.
You can imagine, I am sure, how discomforting the stare of the late head of house was upon me, even through a painting. She had never been fond of me and the reverse was true: I cannot say there is a member of the family that I liked. I confess, when she and her husband passed most tragically I did not attend their funeral nor wear white, despite them being neighbors so to speak.
This was my state of mind when I bent to pick up the fallen papers. It was merely because they were all around me, you understand, and I could not help but notice that the language they were written in was neither Elven nor Common. I studied the papers for a moment longer, and being a curious man, I wrote a few of the symbols down to find out later what language this was written in. I have included the precise letters below, along with a translation I was only later able to recognize, much to my horror.
The next few lines are beautifully curved and swooping letters in a different alphabet which, below, identifies it as Infernal, and provides the translation of ‘Blessings of the Pit be upon thee, my sister in darkness’.
Now, of course, I had no idea what this meant. I put the papers back together, satisfied everything was neatly put away and no one would notice I had been through the desk. I went to my assignation with much enthusiasm, and was welcomed back by all manner of folk when I returned to the party. Everyone was, of course, very happy to see me. The party really was a regular affair, with a lot of the usual faces though some knights had returned from fighting and were bringing some cheer into the halls, there might have been a poisoning though that was when I was rather occupied so I missed it, though the catering was done by Teocaide’s pastry chef rather than someone who had a little bit more skill so that was a bit of a disappointment.
“My lord,” Teocaide said to me sometime near the end, her fingers wrapped around the long stem of her glass, made from one single carved ruby, “have you been enjoying the party?”
“Certainly, my lady,” I said, “it has been a marvellous time. And may I say that you look quite lovely, I do believe this dress is from a new seamstress!”
“Yes, the last one just simply couldn’t handle the stress, poor dear,” Teocaide said. She did have style, even if it was a drab and dreary one like her mother’s. She hadn’t done anything with her hair, letting it hang limp to her shoulders, with a dark dress that had a low dip to show off her many jeweled necklaces and the bottom hem pooled around her feet. She was far shorter than me, due to numerous childhood illnesses that had taken their toll. She was still frail, perhaps the sort of beauty that in some would evoke the desire to care for her, but with the history between our families I saw it more as a promise of death and how the Lavontaines could harness it to their will.
“But, my lord, your own coat is very fine this evening, though it appears you have missed a button there when you were making haste to arrive at this event…”
Following this, there are about 20 pages detailing various conversations at the party, with the clothes that everyone is wearing described in great detail, as well as fragments of other conversations mostly to do with local gossip. The unnamed narrator is able to sweep with ease through all of these social situations.
When it finally became time to head home, I found my cleric again and we left. As with many who are part of the Empire’s Soul, she was quite learned, and a dear friend to me besides. I showed her the strange script I had accidentally found in Teocaide’s office, and her face immediately fell.
“My lord,” she said, “my dear friend, this is something dangerous I fear that you have stumbled upon.”
“Ah, do not be afraid! What, pray tell, is this that I have found?”
“I cannot tell you, for it may place your life in danger! There is enough of that already that haunts in your footsteps, that follows you from the shadows. Many are jealous of your bloodline and your power, and this cannot be added to that!”
“Dear cleric, dearer friend, you must tell me! Myself being placed in danger matters little if the emperor is in danger! Our most beloved Crown must be protected! Does this hold a threat to our most noble empire?”
“But your blood is that of a dear emperor! Does that not make you as well something that we must protect?”
“I am but a lord, not the Crown. It matters not my status so long as I am not of the Crown, for it is my duty as a lord and citizen of Nyassar to give my life for our most beloved liege!”
“Ah, you have moved me so much, my lord! My love for my empire cannot prevent me from sharing with you then this dastardly plot you have stumbled upon! This note you have copied is written in Infernal, the tongue that is spoken in the Nine Hells! I cannot read it myself, but that it is written in such a code rather than in the common tongue suggests there is something most frightening hidden within it.”
I was silent for the rest of the carriage ride back to my castle, lost in thought as a storm rolled in from the seas, the clouds dark and the water choppy as it pushed up onto the shores. My castle had belonged to my most noble ancestors and it had fallen into my own hands through misfortune, though even as the second son I would do my duty as best I could for my family. It was an old stone castle, very large and very tall, nothing but a dark silhouette now at this time of the night. Even so far up, sea salt was on the air, and the magnificent cliffs that the seaside city drew its name from reached up all around it, holding my castle up above the town.
My cleric said goodnight to me, and since I was a lord and lords don’t work and my only job was to take care of my home and my vassals, I had plenty of time to quietly contemplate the implications of the note in Infernal I found in Teocaide’s desk.
I sat in a window seat overlooking the darkened sea, the wind tossing my hair about, my eyes fixed on the horizon. This could spell trouble, I thought to myself. This would start small, in our city, before spreading like a rot through the veins of the empire, towards the Crown itself.
Here, there is a long section detailing the current tensions in the unnamed city where the account takes place. The narrator leaves off great detail only for himself beyond saying he is from an old family, though talks frequently of how the Lavontaine family is not above assassination, and how the other major family in the city, the one that a certain knight belongs to, is rather honorable and known for being good combatants.
There is a tangent about how there has been no open warfare in the town in his lifetime, and then a long and far too flowery metaphor about how death has not remained away from the city.
Finally, after describing how moody and gothic the setting is again and how his hair is again caught in the wind, he circles back to the Lavontaines, and finishes with,
…and for these reasons and many more, I had come to the conclusion that Teocaide learning Infernal and writing in code in it would certainly be dangerous. I had to find someone who could teach me to read it, or else learn it myself, and quickly.
My family’s bloody feud with the Lavontaine family only added fuel to the fire of passion already burning in my heart, for I wished to make certain this threat to the empire was eradicated! I had not thought Teocaide to be as cruel as her mother, and she might yet appear to have written this in innocence, though I doubted that. Her family was known for its cruel ways, its subtle poisons which they could slip into conversations. If her mother and father were odorless and tasteless poisons could take hours to kill, and if her late brother was a lethal and violent dose that left you coughing up a lung, then Teocaide was a subtle draught that left you needing more and more until it was cut off and you never knew what had killed you.
A poison was deadly, but so was a knife in the back, or in the front for that matter. So might this Infernal plot be, were I not able to solve it in time.
The next day, a message from a dear friend arrived, delivered personally as it always was with the steady tongue of a divine knight of our mutual acquaintance. The message was delivered by Sir E, who is known for her strength of will as well as strength of arms, whether on or off the field of battle. The message had been from Lord H, a neighbor I have mentioned once or twice, who was also known for his skills with a sword and his silver tongue. I was rather good friends with them both, and after giving Sir E a message to deliver back to her lord, I asked if she would also find a time when I could come by to use their library. She agreed, and later that week I did indeed find myself in their library.
The library in my house was a little lacking, and I had missed quite a few of the language lessons that I would have received when I was an older youth, so I was glad of the chance to research in a place so well stocked and owned by individuals who were quite friendly to me. Lord H is also from an old family, so there were many tomes that I was able to sift through. There were indeed a few primers covered in dust that taught Infernal, along with some other languages from other planes that I am not even sure he knew that he owned. I asked him later if I could borrow a book from his collection, without sharing the nature of it, and he agreed most readily.
I was invited to stay for dinner, and for the evening, both of which I happily agreed to. My stay would have been longer had there not been duties and business that drew me away the next day to the city, matters of business rather than work as befitted a lord, but I promised to return later that week. This proved to be a very pleasant way for me to study and learn alongside my other duties, so I was very happy to continue in this matter, and when I was not busy with these dalliances I found time to further study Infernal. I kept this new interest in learning Infernal quiet, and the reasons quieter. Who knew how far this strange circle Teocaide kept extended?
This middle section here drags quite a bit, and details further the study of Infernal amidst various other parties and romantic attachments. There is one small section that is out of place, that details the catering of another ball, and strangely this is the best written section of the entire piece. The author, for once, writes eloquently yet succinctly and seems to be very studied in how to actually make a cake, since this tangent describes how he is for once impressed with the pastry chef at a ball for the confections that are served there and the skills that would be needed to make them. There is a line that is out of place and does not fit anywhere else with the narrative of the piece, where he writes that he had brought along some of ‘his own’ cakes as well, presumably trusting his own chef’s skill or loyalty more than the chef of the home he is a guest at.
He spends more time with Lord H and Sir E, and there is inevitably more gossip about political schemes, which he is strangely not a participant in. Indeed, nobles on either side of a conflict still seem happy to speak with him. Eventually, the narrative returns to the Lavontaine family.
When next I went to a ball at the Lavontaine estate, I was prepared. I made sure again to arrange to slip away with a partner for a period of time, after which I was able to find my way with ease down the familiar halls to Teocaide’s office. I knew the servants’ paths so I was able to move unnoticed, and again luck was with me since the door was unlocked. Now, this time when I opened the desk under the disapproving stare of the late matron of the Lavontaine family, I was able to read the most damning messages that Teocaide had been gathering.
Here below I have copied, gentle reader, the precise notes that I found within the desk!
The next few pages are lists of names of cultists, all of them nobles within the Nyassar Empire. The name ‘Teocaide Lavontaine’ is the first, and all of the following sound just slightly off due to the first letter of the surname and given name having been swapped for a very obvious code. Many of these names were recounted earlier at the parties as other guests.
After this, dutifully copied, are lists of other members within lower orders of society, and any information about bases that they had, and supply routes used by the cult.
A variety of the cult’s codes to do with Asmodeus, and lore about him is detailed as well, though there are a few comments following the translations about either how too on the nose a code is or else how horrid some cultish practice is.
You can imagine the shock I felt upon reading these papers first hand! Even writing them down as I do now, I am struck by the same sense of dread and distress as I felt when I first came across these damning papers! Oh, but they are so literally damning, and they truly do show the state of the souls of Lady Teocaide and her fellow cultists!
Lady Teocaide Lavontaine — surely you gentle reader with your quick wits have been able to guess at her true name! — is truly a devil-worshipper! She and her foul accomplices have been worshipping Asmodeus, giving sacrifices to him, spilling blood for him, when every drop of blood spilled and every breath gasped out should be for the glory of the Nyassar Empire! Indeed, this is a most grievous accusation but it is true, my readers!
I was just as shocked as you to read this, and with the advice of my own Soul, decided to write this very piece you read in order to expose these doings. I know not what will come of me for these revelations, but I hope that good for my most beloved Nyassar shall ensue, for this is meant to keep the kingdom safe from the dark things I can even now barely stand to think of. There is something poisonous moving towards the Crown of the empire, and if this humble exposé can do a little in exposing that, then I will consider my duty to be done.
My loyalty is to the empire and my name, whether the latter be of the Bones or the Heart, and I hope that this narrative allows me to do honor to my noble bloodline and to my ancestors.
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