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Quick pitch

Pius Acanthio is a Prelate in the Emperial Church, and is charged with heresy, daemony, and murder - and Pius freely admits to the charges. However, his motives were driven by what is seemingly a far more insidious series of events, culminating in a confrontation between man and daemon.

Project Type: Other (Two hours)

This project's owner does not want any help.

Recent changes

dannal13 inserted an action in "INT - MEETING - FINALE" a year ago. dannal13 made 52 other changes. more
dannal13 edited dialogue in "INT - MEETING - FINALE" a year ago. dannal13 made 197 other changes. more
Used you to help me. While I was being tortured, beaten, carved and possessed, I never saw their faces. None of the children in the orphanage ever saw their faces. That night, when you attacked them, and saved me, you promised vengeance. The children told me to help you, since you found that ring that belonged to the Cardinal.
dannal13 added dialogue in "INT - MEETING - 2ND" a year ago. dannal13 made 26 other changes. more
And you will hear my tale,
(emphasis on cardinal)
dannal13 added dialogue in "INT - INNER SANCTUM" a year ago. dannal13 made 12 other changes. more
I descended the stairwell, enclosed by stone walls, but eventually opening, allowing further gaze upon the piping and wires from the organ machine. The caverns beneath the chapel had been hollowed into a crucible, with more corpses fastened to the subterranean rotunda. Wires and piping sewn and fastened to the animated cadavers, feeding foul ichors into the bodies, while alchemical conduits ran from the mouths, issuing phosphorescent fluid back into the base of the mechanism's matrix above.
dannal13 edited dialogue in "INT - CHAPEL" a year ago. dannal13 made 9 other changes. more
pius (narration)
The chapel had been defiled beyond imagining. Broken stained glass windows showed the raging storm outside, while the ornate, domed ceilings and arches, mezzanines of grandeur overlooked the thralls of daemony held below. The chapel pipe organ played its haunting tune, with myriad pipes and wires stemming from it, collecting into a matrix of alchemy and magick at the center of the pulpit. Every holy symbol had been stricken from its original creation, instead covered with blood, or scratched through and revised into unholy sigils of mockery. A choir flanks the sides of the ghastly organ machinery. Children, yet again, merely their corpses. Bodies sewn and stitched together, where decay has rotted their limbs apart; chains and wires fastening them to their stations, forever to sing their odious hymns. Their soulless eyes gazed beyond this world - through us, even, their raspy voices forced to pay homage to Evil - quelling their litanies for respite.

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