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Message: <blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4436984" data-attributes="member: 3285">The Seventh Sin: PrologueIlmarė was on her way to the Marquis Moon, a new agreed-upon meeting point that Kham picked, when she felt a strange tingling sensation from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes.Her body was completely frozen.  Only then did a man limp out of the alleys of Freeport.He was of medium height and build, with hair missing in clumps on his head.  He had sunken brown eyes and wore a brown cloak with a small silver clasp in the form of an owl.Ilmarė recognized him.  It was the Commandant from Ymandragore.“Well,” he rasped, “it seems I’ve finally caught up with you.”  The Commandant was overcome by wracking coughs.  “My name is Vladimir val’Sheem.  I want you to know that it was I who ruined you, just as you ruined my country.” Vladimir reached for Ilmarė’s head and removed her helmet. “We’ll just take this little trinket.” Then he tugged the rings off her fingers. “And these.” Vladimir paused, peering at the amulet around Ilmarė’s neck.  “And I’ll take this as proof.”  He snapped it off her throat.“Now my dear.  It’s time for you to go meet your new friends. Follow me, please.”Ilmarė followed him behind the Marquis Moon.  Vladimir lifted up a sewer grate.  He pointed down at the stinking depths.Against her will, she descended.“I’m going to leave you in the care of some associates of mine,” said Vladimir with a malicious sneer.  “They will take…good care of you.”A striking woman with long dark red hair and a lithe body stood before a gleaming silver door, bright and seemingly unaffected by its fetid surroundings.  Set in the center of the door, at about chest height, was a large golden circle.  A few lines of text were engraved within the circle. The door was hot; Ilmarė could feel the warmth emanating from it. Before she could make out more, the woman blocked her vision.“An elorii, Vladimir.” The woman stroked Ilmarė’s cheek.  “Just as you promised.”  She seemed impressed.  “She will do nicely.”“Make her suffer,” snarled Vladimir.  He whirled and disappears out of Ilmarė’s field of vision.The woman turned back, whispering something to the door.  It opened before her.In stark contrast to the sewers behind Ilmarė, the room was decorated in sumptuous style, hung with rich silks and curtains of wine-red and gold. The stale air reeked of perfume, body odors, and a cloying sweetness that was hard to define. Several masked figures stared at you expectantly, dressed in revealing robes.  An immensely tall, well-muscled man with a topknot dominated the room, his skin covered in strange tattoos. The man remained masked, and held the only obvious weapon in the room – a whip. “Perfect,” said the man.  He lifted his hands up to face the ceiling. “Oh Larissa, Mistress of the Forbidden Pleasures and the Temptress of the Pure! Oh ye, Divine Harlot of the Sixty-Seven Acts of Debauchery!  We, your loyal servants, offer you this sacrifice.” The held a goblet filled with blood-red wine to Ilmarė’s lips. Against her will, she drank it.All went dark.  Just before she lost consciousness, she heard, “Let the forty-second act of debauchery begin!”</blockquote>

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