Sgrios Mass: Illness & Pestilence
Welcome, seekers of the shadow, to our musty house of rot. I see many of you shivering tonight - perhaps from the dampness of the crypts, or perhaps because you feel the early tickle of Sgrios’ fingers upon your throat. It is a heavy air we breathe tonight, is it not? The sweet, cloying scent of things beginning to come apart. Tonight, we speak of Illness. To the mundanes of Loures, illness is a tragedy. They run to the temples of Cail, begging for herbs and "purity." They hide behind the stone walls of their capital, praying to Gramail for "order" and "quarantine," as if a king’s decree could stop the infectious messengers of our Lord. But we know better. Have you heard the whispers from the second floor of Loures Castle? Of the child, Jacqueline? They say she is being sapped of life, a hollow shell wasting away. But do you know the source of her suffering? It is not the natural touch of our Lord. It is... the Pact of Anaman Her father, the Councilor Cyr...