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Abgnetation finds a crate full of <span class="mu-r">MOTHDREAM</span>, a hallocinogenic from the far Uthani steppes. That's where the Vulpes roam, but it's not the only Banner on those grasslands. You don't hear a lot about the other in the City, because the Watcher and the Legion both made distant stern effort to keep it that way in ages past. The Uthani Banners were and are and will be again a scourge on civilized men.
Pugiliste ponders as some others steal various bits and sundry and finally. . . yes. . . it does make sense . . .
This is Mothdream. Chemical concoctions by distant shaman-alchemists of the Uthani, that alters how one sees oneself in the world, with the world, by the world. It is used in rituals of Denial.
Abnegation can fair sense it, although perhaps the type of ritual the Uthani prefer is not their particular brand of self denial.
This drug is not recreational. Its brings no joy.
This drug . . . Is a weapon. The Slicerats have brought it by the crate and by the container and they intend to USE IT somehow, on someone, somewhen and we can glean, by some why. The distant Rat Rajah Rinik, who outed Otis Steeleye and became the face and fist of this city's grand underworld, what sort of scheme has he dreamed up that requires an abundance of dust that one breathes in only and purely to forget that one is a persona at all?
The fluttering Moths - that's the Banner so famed for this stuff - they use it in ritualistic practice to forget their sense of self such that they may forget all the ills of the body, and never itch nor blink nor stutter nor feel a pang of hunger or a stubbed toe and so, in the shadows and the half-light hours, remain still as stone and quiet as moonlight. [/i:lit]
We should burn all this, because whatever we have found here is no simple economic scheme. This is . . .
oh snap, Maskmates
This is probably political, of some sort or another.
If Rinik the Rat could make people forget somehow, maybe he could . . . Recruit them better? Bleach their personality from their lived lives? Brainwash his endless ratlings? No. All of that is too crude and too cruel and, make no bones about the competence of the Watchers, they do actually respond to threats of a grand enough nature and they have an institutional habit of the most tremendous sort of overzealous overkill. Any rat in any tavern make a joke about how they're about to poison the city, they'd all be strung up by the gates an hour later.
Say what you want about our city Watchers. But, erhh, maybe say it quietly where they can't hear, because they're frightening folk.
So if not gain and not for some criminal turf war or grand attempt at poisoning half a district, why all this?
We'll figure this out. But now: Torch the damned lot and let the fire help us all forget it was ever here.
[ WORLD PHASE ]
