Welcome back to the Dragon's Den Actual Play Blog! For the next few weeks I will be playing the newest case in the Sworn by Ghostlight game by Matthew John! Long-time followers of the blog will remember the first case, the Ebonwood Effigies. My play through of 'The Wings of Rot' picks up a few years after the dramatic close of the first case, from the perspective of Assistant Detective of Occult and Ghostlight Mysteries, Selma Belright. What darkness will Selma discover in the Rift?
For this entry in my SbG series, I'll be using Starforged moves, Ironsworn Oracles, Ironsmith Expanded Oracles as well as the built in Oracles from the Wings of Rot tri-fold.
Begin a Session
A figure, perched atop a nearby market stall, stared into the clouded window of the large brick building. A rough hood of dark-colored canvas covered their head, concealing all features except for the glowing red of their narrowed eyes. They watched the Woman as she sat on the bed, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Despite the distance and the scents and sounds of the awakening Moonshard Market, the figure could smell the Woman. The scent was burned into their heightened olfactory receptors—the richness of her blood, the sweet tang of chemicals, and the exhilarating hint of raw, pure Ghostlight. A thin, black tongue snaked out of the figure's pale face, tasting the air, and they groaned in ecstasy.
Their revelry was cut short, however, as a large man stalked through the narrow paths of the Market. The black leather trench coat did nothing to conceal the thick muscles of the man's arms and chest, or to hide the obvious outlines of several kinds of weapons. The figure hissed, and dropped to the dirty ground behind the stall. They took one last, long sniff and shivered with pleasure before leaping over the rail and vanishing into the dark below.
Selma Belright, Occult Detective
Personal Case Journal
18 July, 1005
The Rift - Midst Community Center
I woke to the sound of Lenny calling my name from the other side of the guest room door. There was very little light streaming in through the clouded glass window, and what light there was cast a sickly pallor on the cream-colored walls of the bedroom. I sat up and stretched my arms over my head, yawning, but froze mid-action. The overwhelming sense of being watched washed over me, leaving my skin prickled and the hairs on my arms standing on end.
I stood and moved to the window, hiding myself by the wall and peering through a small pin-prick of relatively clear glass out onto the roofs of the neighboring market stalls. There was nothing there, but I was almost certain I saw a dark shape leap over the railing. I shook my head and chalked it up to waking up in a strange place. I refused to deal with the strangeness of the place I once called my home, and finished dressing.
A few minutes later, I went downstairs to find Lenny. Instead, I encountered an elderly woman walking into the building. She was hunched over, supporting herself on a gnarled cane. Her silver hair fell in thick ringlets and lined a sharp-featured face. Despite her aged appearance, her ocher skin was vibrant, and each deep-carved wrinkle revealed a face that was quick to laughter.
“Selma,” the older woman said with a nod of her head.
“Ma’am,” I replied, nodding back respectfully.
“Do you not remember me, child?”
“I confess, I do not.”
“Surely you remember your grandmother’s closest friend.”
“Jari? Oh! It is you!”
In my defense, Jari looked more wizened and care-worn than I recalled from my youth.
“The Surface did not do much for your powers of perception, it appears,” the old woman said, but the smile on her face took the sting from the words.
“It is good to see you again. What are you doing here?”
“You’ve been away a long time, child. I now hold the high honor of being the oldest living Rifter, and as such, the people look to me for leadership. Especially in times such as these.”
“So you’re here to discuss the disappearances?”
“Aye, child, I am. Alene says you have questions about the carvings and something about the Wings of Rot.”
“I do, yes. Do you think you can help?”
“Come, come, all in due time. Let us find young Alene first.”
“I’m right here, Jari,” Lenny said, coming into the corridor. “I see you and Selma are getting caught up.”
Lenny smiled at the old woman, but did not even look in my direction.
“Indeed. I need a rest, Alene my girl, let us sit down.”
Lenny’s long legs carried her swiftly down the corridor, and she slipped Jari’s free arm through hers and helped the older woman walk the remaining length of the hall to the office space I had visited the day before. Lenny settled Jari into the larger and plusher of the three ragged chairs and went to stand by the window.
“Now, tell me what happened, Selma,” Jari ordered, resting her cane over her thin knees.
I recounted the vision in the Ghosphorescent lamp from the day before and tried my best to give any details that I thought would be pertinent. After I finished my tale, Jari sat in silence for a long time, tapping her bony finger on a bole of her cane.
“The Wings of Rot. There’s an old story that my great-nan used to tell. She said it was passed down from her great-nan, who heard it from her great-nan. It is said that before the moon cracked, the Rift was ignored as a strange scar on the earth between Tower and Grave Hill, when there was just a watchtower of stone and a small cemetery on the tops of their respective hillocks. Then, the moon cracked. And from the Rift fluttered a flurry of luminescent, white moths. Everywhere the moths landed, black mushrooms sprang up and choked out the thriving green of the area. They became known as the Winged Rot, or collectively as the Wings of Rot. Some of the more religious residents proclaimed that it was a portent of the coming of the dark god, Dimuth, who made his palace deep within the Rift among the ebonwood trees and the black mushrooms.
Two expeditions descended into the Rift, but only one returned. The first, commissioned by the lord governor of Tower Hill, delved down deep and discovered rich veins of ore in the upper and middle reaches of the Rift. They did not delve further than what is now the Midst, and returned to their master to report their findings. This led to the beginnings of what would become Rift society—originally miners for Tower Hill, until they were abandoned and shunned from Tower Hill society after the ore veins were exhausted. The now wealthy leaders of Tower Hill expanded their burgeoning village across the Rift to Grave Hill, building the first of many bridges spanning the Rift, and renamed the town Monaþstone.”
“What happened to the second expedition?” I asked, engrossed in Jari’s tale.
“The second expedition was organized by the Order of Dimuth, a group of religious zealots who worshiped the god of death and decay. They were rumored to be capable of magic, and some styled themselves Warlocks, after the fashion of the dark god’s ancient priests. Their leader, a woman called Ada Tubblebottom, claimed to have experienced a vision. Supposedly there was something in the Depths that their god wanted them to find.”
“Did you say Tubblebottom?” Inside, my thoughts spiraled. Of course the Tubblebottoms would be involved in this madness.
“So say the old tales. Ada Tubblebottom was Chief Warlock of the Order of Dimuth in the years leading up to their trek into the Depths. Some say that she alone survived the expedition, and gave birth to a child soon after.”
“What—what was the child’s name?”
“The stories name him Elias, or Elijah, or sometimes Eli.”
“Elijah Tubblebottom. Of course.”
“You seem to know the name,” Lenny asked, staring at me hard.
“I do. Elijah Tubblebottom and I have a history.”
“How? This was a century or more ago,” Lenny retorted.
“In fact it was right before the moon cracked, so almost two hundred years ago now,” Jari interjected.
“Maybe it’s not the same man, just a relative with the same name. And the same propensity for magic. The Tubblebottom I know was a popular herbologist and guest professor at the University and owned an apothecary. He was also a self-proclaimed warlock.”
“There’s more to that story, isn’t there.” Lenny said, more a statement than a question.
“You wondered how I could be so sure that magic was real. My experience with Elijah Tubblebottom proved it without a doubt. The man dragged my mentor through a breach in time and space into the past.”
The women looked at me with open mouths. Lenny looked incredulous, but Jari’s eyes and lips narrowed.
“What do you know, Jari?” I asked.
“Know? Nothing. Not really. There are some myths that say that the Order of Dimuth found their god in the darkness and were transformed into his messengers—winged emissaries who heralded the coming of Dimuth once again. Others say that the leaders of the Order were given power to breach life and death, time and space. They could revive the dead or transport themselves and others through the fabric between time and space to other places. These leaders were marked with the seal of Dimuth—the moth. In the legends they are called the ‘Wings of Rot.’”
“So these moths that appeared before the moon cracked were these messengers of Dimuth? And maybe they are the same as the leaders of the cult? Its all very convoluted.”
“Most legends are,” the old woman sighed. “Some believe the story of the flock of pale moths, others that the Wings of Rot refer to the leaders of the cult. All of it's a crock of bilgewater, if you ask me. The Order of Dimuth likely became lost in the dark and died of starvation, or fell prey to the denizens of the Depths.”
“Still, this connection to the Wings of Rot is the best clue I’ve had so far. And I’m almost certain Elijah Tubblebottom, or someone connected to him, is responsible for the vanishings. It would be just like him to want us to make the connection.”
“Perhaps the kidnappers are trying to resurrect the old order. I cannot say, but these are just stories, passed down by superstitious folk who wouldn’t know a Warlock from a Vrykalaka.”
I winced at that, and touched my shoulder where the creature had dug its sharp nails into my chest. “I know the difference,” I said quietly.
“I must go,” Jari said, rising. “I hope you are able to discover what you seek, my dear.”
“Thank you for your help, Jari,” I said.
Lenny helped the older woman out of the office. She returned a moment later and leaned against the door frame.
“I believe you, for what it's worth,” Lenny said quietly.
I was stunned and simply stared back at her blankly.
“I know, not what you expected to hear.”
“Not at all,” I answered, still shocked.
“There’s more to the disappearances than you know. You told me Aunt Cora appeared to you in your lamp, yes?”
“I did.”
“She’s appeared to Jari, too. Several times, actually. There’s very little Jari can tell me, other than Aunt Cora kept repeating something about the Wings of Rot and the Lost. The Lost are, according to Jari, what the ancients called spirits of the recently deceased who were not able to pass over.”
“Ghost Echoes,” I said, understanding dawning on me.
“I’ve never heard them called that.”
“I’ve encountered an Echo or two in my time as a detective. They usually appear in places that the person was familiar with, or to people they were close to in life. It is commonly hypothesized that the Echoes appear because they have unfinished business or seek retribution for their deaths.”
Lenny looked long and hard at me, and then nodded. “That tracks with what Jari has told me. Dimuth, the god she mentioned, was also known as the god of lost souls. Whatever is happening down here, I’m willing to bet it's connected to Dimuth and their old cult.”
Ask the Oracle
Mark Progress
“What do we do?” I asked, pretty sure Lenny and I were thinking the same thing.
“We have to go into the Depths. It's the only place we are likely to find any answers.”
“Into the Depths? Isn’t that suicide?”
“Probably. But my people deserve to know what happened to their loved ones. It’s my job to make the Midst a better place. So I’m going. Are you going with me?”
“I’m not about to let you go down there alone.”
“Let’s go. I know the way to the safest ladder down.”
What will Selma and Lenny discover in the Depths? Will they survive this expedition? What really are the Wings of Rot? Find out more next time!
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