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A Long Day in Dunwall posted:

New year

We're staring a new year. Maybe 1852 will be less boring than 1851. I can't wait for Wyman to get back to Dunwall, we'll go to the abandoned mansion I discovered the other night, at the edge of Rudshore. maybe I'll have time to turn it into a scary haunted house beforehand, using sheets and hiding an old audiograph upstairs. Wyman would love that. We'll get spooked and hold hands, screaming and laughing.

Come on Emily, you promised to be more serious and to listen at court, and you're already planning your next escape. Let's start this diary again.

Proposals for a new decree on whale oil rationing and distribution:

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The Anniversary

That time of year again -- the anniversary of my mother's death. There's no real time for reflection, though. It's all security protocols. Menus. Guest lists. And it's impossible to slip out at night. I feel like a caged bird.

They've already got me memorizing this years speech. It's endless! Would it be so terrible if I just said what I remember about her? That wink she gave me, even as she was scolding me, after I was caught climbing the statue of my grandfather. The sound of her footsteps as she paced at night. The time we shared a cabin on a boat trip to Driscol. Or the time she agreed to let Corvo teach me to fish, but then had to pull a hook from my arm. Now that would be a speech.

Edge of the World posted:

My father is lost, turned to stone by Delilah. Those words don't even seem real. Witchcraft, something I never would have believed possible. But now I have to believe in it, so I can believe that it can be undone. Delilah claims to be my aunt, the rightful heir. Truth or lies? All I know is that she used magic to take my throne, aided by that weasel Duke Abele. They must have been working on their plan for years. Buying disloyalty with promises. Even Ramsey, Captain of the City Watch. Planting in everyone's mind the idea that my father and I could be responsible for those monstrous killings. That one or both of us were the "Crown Killer."

I'm not in a trusting mood, but Meagan Foster says she knows Anton Sokolov, our old Royal Physician, and she helped me escape the coup. So she's all I have right now. We're sailing for Serkonos. My Dunwall, my home, is no longer safe for me. But I never really was safe. I never really will be. The sooner I get that through my skull, the better.

The Void

This time it wasn't a dream. I've read about the Void and the Outsider, imagined them. Now I've seen these wonders for myself. Strange doesn't begin to cover it.

The Outsider has terrible eyes, black on black. He offered me something. I know these gifts come with a price, but how could I refuse? This power might give me the edge I need to defeat Delilah and Duke Abele. I'll worry about paying the cost later.

And what price will I pay for his other gift? My mother's beloved voice, trapped in the strangest contraption. It is both comforting and chilling to be able to talk to her again. And yet, it's not entirely the person I knew anymore. This thing, the Heart, it's there and not there. I have to focus in a new way to even see it.

We've arrived at the southernmost tip of the Empire. Strange fragrances all around. Salt, fish, spice. I don't know how to blend in here. I don't know what to eat or where to go. But this is where my father was born. So part of me belongs here too. And these are my people. Or they were until my throne was stolen by Delilah. I'm coming for you Delilah, with my new powers. All I need now is a plan.

Investigating Addermire Institute.

This boat captain, Meagan Foster. She helped me escape the coup. But she's giving me the side-eye when she thinks I'm not looking. She's all I've got for the moment, though soon I hope Anton Sokolov will be joining us. My old teacher. Keenest intellect in the Empire. Filthy mouth. Gone and got himself abducted.

Meagan says he was last seen being dragged toward Addermire Institute by the Crown Killer. Which makes no sense to me, unless the killer is a patient there. Maybe he needs medicine or something. But how can a deranged patient be working for the Duke and Delilah? Addermire's Chief Alchemist might know. Alexandria Hypatia. She's been running this place for years. She's famous for curing the miners' diseases. If she knows anything, I'll make her talk.

Letter from Emily posted:

Wyman,

By now you must have heard about the Coup in Dunwall. Don't worry, I'm safe, hiding far away with friends. I implore you, don't try anything reckless, and don't go back to Gristol. Stay in Morley. There's nothing you can do against Delilah.

I can't say I have a solid plan yet, but you know how well I improvise in desperate situations. Remember the time I kept a straight face during the Watch Officer's report, all the while sitting at my desk without pants? If I survived that, I'll get through all this.

For now, I need to stay hidden and act alone. Trust me. We'll see each other again, I promise.

Emily

Limited Resources posted:

It's not what you're used to, living in a palace, but this is all the coin I could scrape up. Anton and I operated on a tight budget, and guess what, now you do too. If it's not beneath you, pick up whatever valuables you find along your way. We'll need ammo and resources to take down the people behind the Coup.

Hidden all over the city, there are underground black market shops. Look for a symbol depicting two hands, which means there's a shop nearby. Follow the signs, they'll guide you. Buying from the black market is against the law, but it could make the difference against the Duke's military. Sokolov was working on this crossbow as a gift for you. If you need it modified, those shops can help with that as well.

- Meagan

Maintenance List" posted:

Transcript

- Repair the things that got busted up in Anton's room, when he was taken. It's been weeks now.
No, scratch that. Not until I bring him back home. As a show of faith that he will be coming back.

- Unblock the storage door. Looks like something fell on the other side. And I really need to sell the stuff locked up in there to make some coin.

- Pay the port tax and the "look the other way" fees to those Grand Guard bastards, before they wonder who my passenger is this time.
I'll do it when I get the money.

Sokolov's Notes - Bloodfly Study posted:

I've wondered whether I have another book in me. The bloodfly epidemic, coupled with basic information on life cycle and behavior, might make an excellent project for this old natural philosopher.

- Bloodflies are exotic insects, unlike anything else found in Serkonos. I suspect they originated on the Pandyssian Continent.

- In groups of 3 or fewer, they are harmless. Individuals won't attack, leading me to speculate that each emits a scent that has a collective effect on larger numbers of bloodflies.

- Bloodflies are attracted to rapid movement and sound.

- Their nests can be broken apart, scattering the swarm. And in particular the nests are quite susceptible to fire.

- The insects require fresh corpses to lay their eggs, which hatch in breath-taking fashion, after a very short time. More corpses in a Serkonan city, say during a crisis or plague, mean more bloodflies.

- Interestingly, in the last part of a bloodfly's cycle, they calm a great deal. Leaving the swarm, they molt, causing the wings to drop off. Afterward, each bloodfly lives a solitary existence. Very odd.

- Bloodflies are largely restricted to the South, preferring warmer climates. Like certain aging natural philosophers.

Note to Purlos posted:

Purlos, I’m posting this letter, but if you’re reading it, you’ve got the brains of a mule. You didn’t pay no attention to what I said. You had to come to Karnaca anyway. All right, fine! But you won’t find me and Camina here, ’cause we’re leaving as soon as we get the money.

You say you lived here most of your life, so you know the place. And I’m telling you, you’re wrong. You don’t know shit. The city’s changed. When the Duke’s son took over years back, that’s when everything went sideways. At first it was all just disorganized. New taxes and fees, some parts of the city heavily patrolled, some districts with no one from the Grand Guard anywhere to be seen.

Then things got nasty. Bodies in alleys, the Howler gang going wild, the bloodflies worse than I ever seen. So what’d the new Duke do? He cracked down, so now the Grand Guard are surrounding people on the street, beating ’em to death. Anybody they don’t like, anybody they don’t recognize.

I told you not to come to Karnaca! Good luck, but you can’t say you didn’t get a warning.

Underground Shops posted:

Listen, I'm sorry we fought. I get what you're saying about tangling with the Howlers, but they don't run the black market here, really. They just take a cut from all the shops. Yeah, the Grand Guard will crack our heads or shake us down if we get caught, but they'll do that no matter what we do.

We're new here, and we picked a bad time to move to Karnaca. We've got to do whatever we can to stay afloat, even if it means dealing with the black market. So I'm going to find the shop in each district across this rotting corpse of a city, and I'm going to get to know the shopkeepers. Butter 'em up.

You're still my love, my apple, even when I yell at you. Even when I curse and throw things. I'll let you make it up to me when I get home tonight.

- Paisley

Former Empress on the Run! posted:

There is no longer any doubt that the recently unseated Empress, Emily Kaldwin, is responsible for the recent string of horrible murders! The former monarch is on the run, conforming our suspicion about her guilt and association with the Crown Killer! Indeed, some have even suggested that Emily herself committed the appalling crimes, as it is well known she was raised by conspirators and murderers.

The Grand Guard has promised rewards for any information leading to an arrest, and warns the fugitive will be shot on sight if spotted. Duke Abele recently stated that the former empress will likely receive a fair trial if she turns herself in peacefully and forthwith.

Letter to Mr. Weatherby posted:

Mr. Weatherby,

You'll have to hire a new shop assistant, and it won't be me. "If you want the job, you just have to go get the shop key from my former assistant," you said. "Here's the address," you said.

Well, sir, you forgot to add that the guy didn't quit, but died somewhere in a building so infested with bloodflies that the Grand Guard condemned it. How's anyone supposed to get that key back?

There are lots of things I'd do to get a job, Mr. Weatherby, but suicide isn't one of them. I know you'll ask some other poor guy, more naive or more desperate than me, but let me tell you one thing: that is not fair.

Carlito Molina

Clearing Bloodfly Nests posted:

Lento,
You're either brave or desperate to accept this job. We used to smoke-flash bloodflies with full crews, but the infestations are bad now and the Duke cancelled the funding. So we get rid of nests by hand.

Here's what you need to know to stay alive.

1) If you need to slip past a bloodfly swarm or nest, keep your distance and move slowly, or they'll attack.
2) When the bloodflies are calm, you're fine. If they take flight and start glowing, it's trouble.
3) If you get swarmed, you gotta run away or fight. Smash the bloodflies or burn them. Same for the nests.
4) A bloodfly swarm'll keep coming back until you destroy the nest for that swarm.
That's reallys all you need to know. You'll do fine.
Oh, yeah, another thing. If you find any blood amber in a nest, just keep it as a bonus. But make sure the Grand Guard doesn't see it, or they'll ask for some "urban sanitation tax" or whatever. Good luck.

Note to Neighbors posted:

Most hated neighbors,
You forced me out of our home and you barricaded Luciano inside, treating him like a diseased animal! Yes, he was stung by bloodflies, but he's as healthy as a shark, and when he recovers he'll make you regret this.

I've sent the children to my mother's home, but I'm staying here. Say whatever you want, I'm not leaving him. Barricade me inside as well if you're so scared. You can all go to the Void.

- Bettina

Letter from Mr. Weatherby posted:

Antonio,

Don't come back to the shop. I'll find a new assistant, one who doesn't feel the need to discuss the political validity of the taxes with the Grand Guard when they come to collect their protection money. By the way, the extra fee they requested will be retained from your last wages.

Bring me back the shop key and make sure I don't ever see your face again.

Horatio Weatherby

Letter from Mindy posted:

Nice tattoo you have on your back, Amadeo. Where did you find the original drawing? Want to chat about it?

Come to the Crone's Hand in Dust District and ask for Mindy. You won't regret your time.

Excerpt from an Overseer Investigation Report posted:

Brother Bernardus: Where did you find those drawings?
Accused: I made them. As I said, I'm an artist. Mostly newspaper advertisements.
Brother Bernardus: These don't look like advertisements. They look like heretic nonsense intended to make your neighbor sick, or bring back a loved one.
Accused: Nothing will dissuade you of these notions, I'm sure. So instead of wasting my breath, I'll give you some advice. Take a bath once in a while, Overseer. And invest in some scented soap, unless that's against one of the Strictures.

Conclusion: Apparently, the accused suffered from a weakened heart, dying during the interrogation without providing anything further. His apartment on the canal should be searched for items or drawings of a profane nature.

Secret Date posted:

Amadeo,
Meet me in our usual place, tomorrow night. Be sure to bring the drawings we talked about.

M.

Unsent Letter to the High Overseer posted:

Esteemed High Overseer Khulan, I hope you're in good health, and not too nostalgic for Wei-Ghon, which I'm told is striking this time of year. Forgive my stream of letters, but our problems in Serkonos are significant. Any insights you can offer would be welcome.

Duke Abele is a travesty, openly disdainful for the Abbey, and yet I must maintain relations with him for the welfare of this nation. You've been called a unifier, something the Abbey greatly needed after the horrors of the Rat Plague. So your guidance would be of value.

Under the Duke, the streets here are overrun with cutthroats. Paolo and his gang grow bolder every day.

Lastly, my recent correspondence with our Oracular Sisters has been troubling. Their responses have arrived after marked delay, and their recent proclamations possess an unusual cadence.

Yours in faith,

Vice Overseer Liam Byrne

Reports from the Oracle posted:

Day 18

Sister Allison, Recorder of Proceedings

Also present Sister Anne, Sister Margaret, and Sister Tabatha.

The following is the true and complete transcript of the uttering of Sister Anne, Oracle:

More incense please. Yes. The past and the future meld, I am without body. Dust, all about me. So thick my vision falters. It is greed in palpable form. Hiding a thousand evils. Oh, look, my Sisters! Heresy! Ten - no! Twenty wretches. Servants of the Void, vile Worshippers of the Outsider! They are assembled there this very moment, in a hidden alley, the ground slick with fishmonger's detritus. In the heart of the Dust District.

I am moving now. Still trapped in dust. Nearly blinded, yet I sense something. Other blasphemies hide nearby. A strange taste in my mouth. What is this!?

(And here there was a pause so long that Sister Tabatha finally broke the silence) My sister, has your vision ceased? Or if not, what do you observe?

(And Sister Anne answered thusly) I have a message for the Vice Overseer, tell Byrne to end this needless meddling into the Conservatory. And now, Sister Anne will be needing some rest.

And thus ended the session.

Truly and in complete detail,
Sister Allison

Doctor's Notes posted:

14th

Let the record show that I did try! When Addermire closed I tried my best to take on all their bloodfly cases. Void help me, I even took out an advertisement in the Karnaca Gazette! And come they did. Sometimes with cases so advanced, the larvae ready to burst through the skin. I had to turn them away lest they contaminate all the other patients, and myself!

The whole dreadful business has become a danger to me. If I don't protect my own health, how can I cure others? My things are packed. I have purchased passage to Wynnedown. What a relief it will be to treat scurvy and chilblains after all these hideous bloodfly infections.

Note from Dr. Hypatia posted:

Dear Cyrille,
I'm working so late these days, I might as well sleep at Addermire. I know, it's not good for my health, and a doctor should know better, you are totally right. But I have the feeling I'm about to discover something important; something that will improve my Addermire Solution.

Would you be so kind as to water my plants for a few days? You'll do a better job than me anyway, I always forget them. Help yourself to an elixir in my reserve if you like.

I hope Caroline gets better soon.

Your neighbor and friend, Alexandria

Safe Contest Combination posted:

I set the combination to [three digit number].

Yes, we're going to keep running the safe contest. Maybe no one comes into the shop, or maybe a dozen people come in, like we had during the Parade of Fishmongers, five years ago.

And, I promise, none of these thick-skulled dock workers or their course wives are going to guess the combination.

We just run the contest to bring people into the shop. And if we're lucky, they talk about it over beers with their friends, or at family dinners. See, since they don't know what's inside, they fill in the blanks. They imagine something as grand as the treasure reserves at Dunwall Tower. We need the business, so keep the signs up, and stay polite to the knuckleheads who try to open the safe.

Nest Keeper posted:

Alexandria, I've always believed the idea of bloodfly "Nest Keepers" to be legend, or drunken miner talk, even though members of the Grand Guard have reported putting down "belligerent occupants" when burning out bloodfly infestations.

As such, this silvergraph represents a rare sighting. We can only conclude that the final stages of Bloodfly Fever occasionally result in an extraordinary kind of brain damage, wherein the host fixates on protecting the nests. The bloodflies in turn, welcome the afflicted person, and thus a symbiotic relationship results.

Bloodfly research never ceases to amaze. If we could procure a sample from the brain of one of these nest keepers, I'd love to observe the effects on rats or wolfhounds in my laboratory.

Goodbye, Karnaca - A Musician's Farewell posted:

12th
Well, it was pure luck, but I managed to get myself passage to Morley aboard a decent ship. The Dreadful Wale, it's called. Is that a mistake? Shouldn't it be the Dreadful Whale, like the sea beast? I didn't want to risk pointing something like that out to the captain, that Foster lady. She looks like the sort to dump a disagreeable passenger overboard without a second thought.
14th
Goodbye, Karnaca. I won't miss you. Times are getting bad there. I don't know what's more unbearable, breathing mine dust all day long or hearing the constant ramblings of Duke Luca Abele over the street speakers. Every bar I played in, some drunk asked me to sing a song either making the Duke sound like a hero of the people, or the opposite, the worst villain in a generation. I got sick of it, pretty fast.
It will take a few weeks to get to Morley, give or take some days, depending on the currents and winds. But I appreciate the company of Captain Foster and the other passenger, a Tyvian scholar, I think. I try to help out around the boat as much as I can, cooking, cleaning, and repairing stuff. Playing the guitar for them at night. I hope they don't throw me to the sharks when they find out I'm dirt broke. I won't be able to pay my fare when we reach Morley.
19th
Morleyan food seems to suit Captain Foster. She likes the way I use lots of sugar and toss a shot of whiskey into all my recipes. Even if she groused at the end of the week for how many of the supplies I'd gone through.
24th
Spent the night on the deck with Meagan and Anton, though he slept in a chair nearby, wrapped in a goat-hair blanket that looks like it hasn't been washed since it was on the goat's back. I played the guitar, while Meagan and I drank rum and whiskey, singing sad old Serkonan ballads, and giving silly names to the stars. She even hummed along with me when she got drunk enough, but mostly preferred just to listen. Said I have the same voice as someone she knew once, a long while back. Off and on, I hear her playing the same old audiograph in her cabin, making me wonder if that's who she was talking about. Maybe I'm feeling jealous.
28th
What a fool I am, trying to kiss Meagan down in the engine room. She didn't even yell, just smiled a sad smile, like you would at a child who still believes in night-spirits.
Tomorrow we'll reach Morley, and I'll disappear as quietly as I can. I've decided to leave her my Serkonan guitar, as a souvenir, and the only payment I can afford. I hope she'll forgive me. And that she'll find whoever she's looking for.

Anton Sokolov's Investigation Notes posted:

Why can't an old man enjoy his last years in a warmer climate, with good wines, and spicy foods, without stumbling into another nest of aristocratic vipers, eager to coil around the heart of the Empire.

As I've learned more, each week for months now, I've found my mind turning, turning over the moments beneath the surface here in Karnaca. Duke Luca Abele and some inner circle that even seems to include Captain Mortimer Ramsey of the Dunwall City Watch, a betrayal that boggles the mind. How many others are involved? They aim their venom at our dear Empress, young Emily, that much is certain, but when will they strike, and how?

Do I dare spend another month gathering stray bits of esoteric information, linking it together with what we already know? Can we even afford another week? Or should Meagan and I set out for Gristol tonight, taking this leaky tub up through the Canal?

Corvo will not hesitate. He will act as soon as I hand over what I know, and if I'm too hasty, it might be his undoing, coming home to his native Serkonos without some critical piece of knowledge about this affair.

And then there's the Crown Killer to worry about. If that fiend is part of Duke Abele's schemes, as I suspect, how long until the Dreadful Wale catches the Duke's eye?

A Reflection on My Journey to the Pandyssian Continent (1) posted:

By Anton Sokolov
Introduction

A colleague of mine owns a stunning map of the Known World. Adorned with curlicues and sea beasts, it has a cherished spot over her mantle. She paid handsomely for it, and was so bristled when I enumerated the various errors. Chief among them, of course, the size and placement of the Pandyssian Continent. Oh, how cartographers are loath to show how small and distant our Empire really is compared to that giant landmass! As if Pandyssia were but a few days' journey from Arran!

Every veteran ship captain knows that it takes months to reach those shores!

I had no doubt that Pandyssia was rich in resources. But a place must be understood if we ever hope to exploit its myriad treasures. These were my thoughts as I agreed to join the ill-fated expedition. And so it was, on the third day of the Month of Earth, under calm grey skies, the great sea vessel Antonia Aquillo set sail with captain, crew, researchers, and myself, (thirty-eight of us total) for what would be the most terrifying and spiritually draining experience of my life.

A Reflection on My Journey to the Pandyssian Continent posted:

By Anton Sokolov
Chapter 15

At dawn, I set out with the group that foraged east and included two other natural philosophers and four crewmen. We used blades to clear the vegetation that grew thickly here, and slowly made our way away from the shore up a steep incline. Our purpose was to gather samples of the native plants for our research journals. I found myself pressing leaves and stems between pages and taking copious notes on several species of flora I surmised no human had ever set eyes on previously, when suddenly young Mr. Gravet from the Academy began hopping about and screaming wildly!

Chance had bade him pick an unfortunate place to step! Aggressive ant-like creatures swarmed him from below. So many in number were his tiny attackers that we quickly lost sight of him under their onslaught. We finally managed to pull Gravet from the insects - acquiring several painful welts where we had come to his aide [sic]. Mr. Gravet however was bitten (or stung, as I would eventually discover) so many times he was barely recognizable. Swollen unto deformity, over every inch of his person. Moaning like a sick bull, he expired before we could carry him back to the beach. Luckily, some of the creatures still clung to him, providing me with precious samples!

The Shindaerey Gift, A Study, by Emora Clipswitch posted:

On the Effect of the Winds on the Karnacan Landmass and Resulting Economic Positions

Whale oil. Liquid power! How astonishing that within those beasts, inside the oil harvested along with their flesh, was enough power to see the Isles through these tumultuous years! And it all seemed limitless, but now the lights begin to dim. Our fisher folk say the great beasts are increasingly rare!

Not all places will suffer this loss equally, fellow natural philosophers! Karnaca has a unique feature - the cleft in Shindaerey Peak, through which the winds are channeled and amplified.

As whale oil begins to run short, with the cost of finding the remaining leviathans escalating beyond the worth of the oil itself, Karnaca will find itself ascendant among the Isles.

Dreadful Wale Accounting posted:

6th, Songs
Out: 32 coins
Docking and Late Fee
M. Tallenger

8th, Songs
Out: 25 coins
Ferrying Cargo (night)
Piccolo and Tate

8th, Songs
Out: 50 coins
Krust Removal on Hull
Shipyard

9th, Songs
Out: 20 coins
New Sextant
Carrbury Est.

10th, Songs
Out: 5 coins
Gave out coins
Mudlarks

10th, Songs
Out: 25 coins
Chicken, Potatoes, Oil
Market

12th, Songs
Out: 10 coins
Anton's Seasick Pills
Apothecary on Swain

13th, Songs
Out: 25 coins
Matches, Length of rope
Traders Co.

16th, Songs
Out: 40 coins
Night Ferry of Cargo
Piccolo and Tate

17th, Songs
In: 6 coins
Sold Rockfish
Fishmonger Raul

19th, Songs
Out: 12 coins
Barrels of Oil, Slime Removal
Shipyard

21st, Songs
Out: 20 coins
Mutton, Carrots, Potatoes
Market

Abandoned Diary - 2nd Day, Month of Wind, 1851 posted:

From my window, I see you once a week. You lean against the light blue wall and open a book. I've noticed you have two hats. One of straw, and the other fabric. Both light in color. You avoid the sun, a kindness to your pale skin. Though I've never seen you roll up your pants higher than your ankles. Modesty, I wonder?

I wish I could go outside again.
Deep in the silver mines by dawn, I rarely saw the light of day myself. The accident happened almost five years ago. The explosion threw me onto my belly, crushing most of the fellows from my crew along with my legs, calling down tons of black rock and earth. Their muffled groans of agony stay with me even now.

I am unfit for mining. or any other work. Most of my days are whiled away as I sit in this crooked chair, looking through my window. Slants of sunlight ease the pain in my legs for a couple of hours each day. My heart waits for the next sighting, for the next time you take your rest in the shadow of the cool blue wall.

Diary of a Witch posted:

Third Day
Found me a dead man on the beach today, draped in seaweed and jellies. His belly so swollen I feared it might burst if I poke it. Half a dozen crabbies scampered out his open maw. I were thinking I might try me some strong magic. The kind that needs a limb or two for full potency. So I carries one of his legs home. Pulled off easy.

Fifth Day
Foul luck! The angelica bloom was sharp as a sailor's tongue, but still the spell went bad. I don't fathom it, because the leg was big and full of juices.

Eight [sic] Day
Ah! Come to me in a dream what went wrong! That soggy leg I used weren't near enough fresh, and it spoilt the magic. Next time I'll make a deal with the undertaker, and get me a nice recent mort.

Traditional Serkonan Songs (1) posted:

Elmira, Elmira, please come home, Elmira
She left one day to work the clay, but never did come back this way
They say she found a silver vein, longer than the Empire's reign
Running deep the miner's way, looking for the light of day
Elmira, Elmira, please come home Elmira!
She's down there still, and always will, but be my sweet Elmira

Elmira, Elmira, please come home, Elmira
She's caught down in the deepest deeps, never eats and never sleeps
They say she sometimes calls my name, or that by now she's gone insane
Elmira, Elmira, please come home, Elmira
She's down there still, and always will, be my sweet Elmira

Bloodfly Experiment Notes posted:

Day One: My plans are underway sooner than expected. Yesterday evening, I stumbled upon the corpse of a hound in the street. The bloodflies had only found it a day or so earlier, I estimate, and I was able to extract intact bloodfly larva from it. I'm keeping them warm under a nice side of mutton.

Day Two: Success! Two of my samples hatched overnight, which was sooner that I could have anticipated. They're both active and get quite agitated when I draw near.

Day Seven: I didn't think it was possible, but they've almost quadrupled in size from when I found them.

Day Ten: Still no nest, which puts a fairly large dent in my hopes for blood amber extraction.

Abandoned Notebook posted:

It was the Month of Earth three years ago. They sky over Karnaca was full of stars. I remember it all clearly because that was the day I lost my position at the Royal Conservatory. I spent the night on this very roof, drinking and staring up at those points of light so far away, looking for some kind of answer.

One constellation stood out. A whale, with a bright blue star for an eye. It was beautiful, comforting somehow, like it was watching over me. And the day after that, with my head still pounding from the drink, I found something in a puddle in the street. Made of whalebone, carved with odd markings. A good luck charm, I thought, and it worked for a long time. Everything got better.

But now my luck has left me, like everyone I cared about, and everything I owned. It's silly, but I came back up here hoping that if I could see that kindly, star-eyed whale in the sky again, maybe things would pick back up. I'll wait here, watching. When it comes back, I'll wave at it and hope for another blessing. I don’t know what else to do.

Funny Stories from Serkonos posted:

Early one morning, near dawn, Marcollo's wife hears a knock at the door. It's one of Marcollo's friends.

"Where's my husband?" She asks. "He was supposed to be with you, picking up a case of Orbon Rum."

"I'm sorry," says Marcollo's friend, "but something horrible happened at the distillery. Marcollo toppled head-first into a barrel of rum and drowned."

So the wife starts blubbering, "Oh, my love! He's gone. At least tell me it was a quick death."

"I can't lie," says Marcollo's friend, "He got out three times to piss!"

Selected Sayings of the Oversee posted:

"Let not the eyes linger upon pretty things. Better to pluck them out than to rest them long on temptations."
Sayings of the Overseers, 114

"One heretical thought leads inevitably to more, as a single errant weed soon overtakes the field of wheat."
Sayings of the Overseers, 401

"Know this: There is only one path. It is the job of the Outsider to convince you there are many."
Sayings of the Overseers, 31

"The duty of the tongue is to speak the Seven Strictures, all else is heresy."
Sayings of the Overseers, 18

"Burn the non-believers from your midst, for they are a blight upon the earth."
Sayings of the Overseers, 534

"There are among the guises of the Outsider: the orphan with outstretched hand, the strumpet with luscious words, the scholar with copious tomes."
Sayings of the Overseers, 103

"The heretic cannot be redeemed, except by oil and flame."
Sayings of the Overseers, 211

"Beware the starving hordes, for they hunger for more than sustenance. In spirit they are destitute. In judgement they are lacking."
Sayings of the Overseers, 140

"Live in silence. For a single untruth or misspoken word can lead to ruin many times its magnitude."
Sayings of the Overseers, 76

"Do not accept to the invitation of the Outsider. The drink he offers is poison, and on his hearth death simmers."
Sayings of the Overseers, 41

The Ancient Music posted:

[Excerpt from a longer work]

Throughout the natural world there are ripples that we can barely perceive with our sense, an Ancient Music permeating everything as a fundamental structural rule. Through it, you can work wonders without violating the natural world or begging favors from unfriendly spirits.

Throughout my studies I have found a 17 note scale derived from this phenomenon, and with the right equipment those notes allow for astonishing effects. Not the least of these is the ability to calm the turbulence originating in the Void which we attribute to the Outsider.

The Seven Strictures posted:

[Excerpt from a commonly distributed overview of the Seven Strictures]

Surround your innermost being with these Strictures, and you will be safe.

The Seven Strictures are our core principles, taught and reinforced by Overseer across the Isles. From these principles stem all manner of rules, social codes and beliefs about the Cosmos.

The Seven Strictures
1. Wandering Gaze
2. Lying Tongue
3. Restless Hands
4. Roving Feet
5. Rampant Hunger
6. Wanton Flesh
7. Errant Mind

All these behaviors must be restricted in order to keep one's heart free from malevolent influences. They are the inroads of the Outsider.

On the Oracular Order, By Douglas Harwickle, Historian posted:

Much has been said about the blind Sisters of the Oracular Order. In truth, their eyes function just as well as yours or mine. However, they do endeavor to become blind to distractions and frivolities. They will, if necessity bids them, walk among us, wearing richly hued blindfolds or otherwise covering their eyes. In this way they remain "at all times ready to see things clearly."

Decisions are made during Cloistered Gatherings. Though no others are permitted to observe, the process was described to me, so I render it here with permission.

"A room is prepared with heavy incense and blessings from the Strictures. In a circle sit thirty or more Sisters of our Order, until the room is brimming. We will hear no topic, lest we have each had adequate time to research. Several outcomes will be discussed, and some Sisters are specifically tasked with advancing less popular or unlikely scenarios. It is not permitted to remain silent. Every voice must be heard. It may take some time to arrive at a decision, and by then all are quite versed in the myriad consequences, and may have lengthy advice for all contingencies. When an opinion is written, it may be as short as a sentence, or fill twenty pages. Yet still, one last Sister must approve it, the High Oracle herself."'