Orders in the Dark

13th October - The Delve

Mavromichali Mortimer sat quietly in his cold dark cell, his eyes closed and his mind wondering through the precious discoveries he had made since being caught down here by the guards. The Delve was a scientific marvel and he had barley scratched the surface. The technology employed down here was beyond the understanding of that employed in Dusk and the availability of mutated genetic samples was a thaumaturgical wet dream. Perhaps they would kill him now, he would surely be no good as a worker down here. He had seen the wear and tear inflicted on the human body, not to mention the mind. The Delve contained terrors both real and imagined that would drive even the strongest mind to the brink of madness. Lucky for Mortimer he had been mad to begin with.

The Delve hound had seen to his Ashen guide a few days back. The guide had killed the beast but not before receiving a mortal wound himself. It had taken several hours for the man to bleed out in the darkness. Mortimer had taken the opportunity to take blood and organ samples from him. That was with all of his other samples now in the custody of the prison guards.

There came a sharp click and then a grinding sound as the door was unlocked and opened. Mortimer opened his eyes and was forced to raise his hand to block out the harshness of the lamp light.

"Get up." the guard ordered, "Your story has checked out."

Mavromochali gave a grim smile and heaved himself upward with some effort. He had not eaten for several days and the tepid water they gave him down here was barely enough to keep him alive. He stumbled towards the door and the light, seeing on the dark outline of the waiting guard.

Moving out into a narrow corridor he was led down a steep stair well and then through a series of rooms and passageways. There were other guards down here and countless locked doors, behind which he could make out the groans and cries of their occupants. The guard stopped and opened a door to their left and ushered him in.

It took a moment for him to take in his surroundings. A neat office space with a large dark wood desk in its centre. There were shelves and cupboards around the rooms edges and another door in the far corner. The room did not seem to belong down here in this grim warren of death and misery and neither did the man sitting behind the desk. For a start he was wearing a strange suit. Not the uniform of the guards, it was an off white material that seemed to shimmer slightly when he moved. The man had dark skin and short cropped black hair. Very unusual. It struck him then.

"Elesian." he croaked finding his own voice, "You are one of them."

The man frowned at being addressed like this and flicked his fingers towards the guard who punched Mortimer in the stomach.

"I am indeed Elesian." the man said dryly once Mortimer had recovered himself, "I have been sent here to assess the effectiveness of this facility. A consultant if you will." the man chuckled to himself at that, amused by his own words.

"So you are a scientist." the man asked after a moment.

"Yes I..." he began but the Elesian cut him off.

"You were embroiled in the messy politics that brought Dusk to its knees. Known associates Edward Hanton, previously the High Inquisitor of Dusk intelligence such as it was..."

"Was?" Mortimer asked.

"Things have changed." the man commented, "and Marshall Fordman the head of the Dusk military and know rival to Mr Hanton. What a tangled web you weave Mr Mortimer."

The man stood and began to pace the room,

"Are you aware that there is currently an officer of the law wandering the caves down here trying to hunt you down? We have failed to capture him so far, he has some local support, but it seems that before following you down here he was making something of a fuss up in Graymire trying to flush you out."

"I cant think why." Mortimer lied. Another flick of the finger from the Elesian and Mortimer was wiping blood from his freshly broken nose.

"Something to do with experiments on children." the mans said paying no attention to the display of violence he had just ordered.

"I have need of your services." he said at last, "I will dispose of this law man soon enough and in payment you will attend to a small matter for me."

"My research?"

"Will be returned to you."

"And my freedom?" Mortimer pressed, dreading what the guard might be ordered to do to him next should he cross the line.

"That now belongs to me." the Elesian slammed his fist on the table. "You will report to the Asylum where an inmate awaits your unique talents."

OOC: Mortimer his on his way to Abigail. He's an Npc so feel free to write for him. Alternatively I can do the honors on my next Delve post.

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