May 23rd, 761, 10:54 AM; Day 66 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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"Very well then. You may deliver any messages that must reach me quickly through my Lord Vizier. You will need a Confessor liason..." The angelic Prophet tapped his chin for a few moments. "You've met with Judge Jalil al-Shirazi, I take it? Then he shall be your liason with the Confessors, at need. And that takes care of everything. You are dismissed. The prisoner is to be released."
The chains were struck from the tired-looking Prof. Devereux, and the Dementlieuse academic was guided back to the rest of the Expedition. It was oddly good to have the stork-like man back, even if it probably meant you'd get to listen to more conspiracy theories from here on out.
The Vizier bowed briefly to Diamabel, and motioned for you to follow. Slowly, you departed the audience chamber, the continuing choir sounding even as you left the palace.
"Right, well..." Samael said quietly as you departed the Palace. "You eight did most of the work back in Hazlan, so you go on and talk to the Vizier. We still need to outfit the Expedition."
"Good luck."
[OOC: PCs only now.]
The Estate of Vizier al-Mustafa, High Quarter, Phiraz
May 23rd, 761, 11:36 AM; Day 66 of the Menetnashte Expedition
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Vizier al-Mustafa led you back into the High Quarter of Phiraz, across the causeway from the Palace of Purity. Escorted by a dozen private soldiers of the Pharazian watch, you noticed a decided lack of Confessors around the estate. Instead, a small army of clerks scurried around the beautiful building, a smaller construction of white-plastered brick, but interspersed with stained glasswork of a marvelous hue.
After directing a few clerks to draw up the necessary documents, al-Mustafa lead you into an office, a spartan room with a desk stacked high with parchments and scrolls and books, a globe the only other object in the room aside from a dozen chairs. A large map of the City of Phiraz was located on a wall.
"You must excuse the mess, I fear." Al-Mustafa said as he started rummaging around drawers. As soon as you were away from Diamabel, the Vizier had dropped into a rather more informal tone of voice. The professional-looking guards, however, were never very far. "Government work, you might imagine. Nothing is ever given on time."
"Ah, here we are! The Confessor reports on the last four attacks." The Vizier brandished a sheaf of papers proudly.
"Let's see now... The first attack was May 19th, around midnight. Four bravos from a rather unpleasant locale named the Nest of Many Serpents in the Lower Quarter were ambushed and killed. The bodies were torn apart as by an entity of impressive manual strength. Still, they were low-lifes, and as such the attack wasn't considered greatly surprising, although the execution of it was unusual. Their faces were mentioned as mutilated in the report, and the investigating Confessor indicated the possibility of magic of some sort. Peculiarly also, no blood was found leading away from the scene."
Al-Mustafa grimaced apologetically, not pleased to be reporting this. "You must understand, Phiraz is a city of a hundred-thousand. Much though it is distressing to admit, we are no strangers to violent death particularly in the Lower Quarter, which is why this wasn't fully examined till later."
"Second attack was the next day, May 20th, not three blocks from my manor, actually. At 11:57, several servants, and myself, were awakened by screams of profound agony, which lasted for about a minute. An immediate party of armed guards was formed from the nearby manors, but when they arrived at 12:04, the attacker was gone. Left behind were two faceless, mangled bodies, belonging to the youngest son of Bey Marashalim and his fiance'. At this point a curfew was instituted until someone could find out what was going on. Also, the presiding priest detected that the deceased had their souls stolen or destroyed during the attack."
A sudden chill seemed to enter the room with those words, a vile and vicious coldness that pierced the soul.
"Third attack was May 21st, around midnight, but not discovered till morning. A family of three was slain in the Slaughter District. Again, the bodies were torn apart, and were lacking faces and, after a priest was brough in, souls. Most curiously, the doors and windows were all locked and showed no signs of being tampered with."
The Vizier continued to read and summarize the reports, his voice soft and hushed, the litany of death and destruction flowing past the ears of his listeners.
"And finally... last night, May 22nd, at a quarter till twelve, a citizeness, Lahlia Ershadi, said she saw strange lights in an alleyway while walking along the the Street of Sparrows in the Old Quarter. She was frightened, and ran immediately for the Temple of Sparrows at the end of the street. The lights followed her in the darkness down the street but did not enter the Temple grounds, and by the time citizeness Ershadi woke the priest, they were gone. Since there were no other attacks last night, I think citizeness Ershadi managed to have a narrow escape from the fiend. She's staying at the Temple of Sparrows right now, for her own protection."
The Vizier put down the papers, rubbing his chin in frustration. "As unpleasant a course of events as I've ever seen. And if something isn't done soon, we'll have panic on the streets, perhaps even riots or lynchings."
