The Maid Report

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DSM-IV
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The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Mon Mar 13, 2017 2:50 pm

-Fiend is dead or dismissed. Could not make proper confirmation of either. Arrival upon unknown prime led to complications. Attacked by unknown bounty hunters moment portal exit. Bounty Hunter of Prime origin. Anthill had open bounties for Imp Heads, wrong place wrong time. Target's gone, Portal key is gone. Now trapped on some back water Prime. You said pop in and out, easy. May the Lady Maze you this very cycle you Tanar'ri boot licker. This is not were I am spending my retirement. Request directions

***Break***

-Prime is Toril. The burg is subsurface city named Anadur, perhaps Anudor. Local populace mostly Drow, humans with other races sprinkled in for flavor. Few lower planes fiends, and have seen a single dead celestrial. Prime does have an unknown surface populated with halflings, humans, and elven. Not much different then the Cage really. There are portals available but only prime travel have found so far.

***Break**

-You even receiving these? Why no reply? Berny? Damn you to the 9 Hells. You gonnah send me to the Mazes? After all this time of service? No factions present that I can tell. No Harmonium, no Chaosmen, nothing. I am telling you these folks are 99% clueless. Not a single berk has ever heard of Sigil. Gonnah dig in or not gonnah survive. Getting a feeling things don't work the same here. Without no dustmen to pen yeah, does that mean you stay lost or you a petitioner? Not finding out.

***Break***

-Got lucky. Finally! Got purchased by the local Factol of something called the Iron Order to Death of Elves. Or some barmy thing. Decent cutter with a lot of pull. Should be safe for now. Working on learning the local Chant. Most down here speak either that Drow Langauge or something called Undercommon. Gods Berny I haven't learned a language since you taught me the cant. Dammit why haven't you replied? This anthill is tough, don't worry it ant The Hive or anything but just everyone is so, It's hard putting words to it. Most these berks just wander around like their brainbox's be leaking. Seriously, I have seen more life in deaders. You got a handful of Cutters who know what they doing and the rest just wander around. Clueless Primers.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Sun Mar 19, 2017 4:02 pm

Berny my Bone Box is leaking here. You got to get me out. I have never been this deep this long. I can't stand it. It isn't the bowing, or boot cleaning, strapping, or licking its the BOREDOM. I rather be Mazed I swear to the very Lady of Pain herself, Berny. So many angles I can see, the peels we could run here. But I am nothing. Just a fly on the wall. Gottah live the peel? Right? That's what you always taught me. Become the con. But, this is different this is survival. There is no mark. There is no goal. Just survive.

***Break***
Been months, moons? Hells don't know what they call them down here. Time is real here. This isn't Sigil. You can feel it. Feel time slow and steady on your body. Always pulling you towards the Dead Book.

***Break***
In my boredom did a high crime, Faith. High Crime against the Lady of Pain of course, but not here. It's everywhere, gods on statues upon signs, massive temples mostly to abyssal gods and some Drow god I never heard of. Between scrubbing floors and running errands I found myself talking. Talking to shadows as if someone was there expecting an answer. I think I was praying. Pretty sure. Do you pray out of boredom or loneliness?

***Break***
Been praying a lot, Berny. Just me in my dark closet. They gave me a closet I can't even lay down in. So I crouch and talk to the darkness. Pray, I hope because I might be going Barmy Bleaker if it isn't. Just me alone in the darkness.

***Break***
I could escape. But where? The Chant being there is a surface to this Prime. A surface with a sky that's blue and a fire orb you can't look into. Bone Box would explode seeing something like that. There is even some celestial working for the Orag that owns me. Can you believe that? I am pretty sure my owner is some fiend worshiper. If you can't trust the celestrial's around here, who can you trust? I am on my own.

***Break***
The Dark answered me this cycle. It wasn't a voice, but more a power, an energy. Was feeling pretty down, pretty alone, then all of a sudden an answer. Not really an answer more a feeling. That maybe I ant alone. I need find others. It's a risk, but I can't stand being so alone. Peel is over. This isn't a con anymore. This is my life, and I will not survive alone.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Mon Mar 27, 2017 1:20 pm

Message received Berny, but not much got through. Could not make out any of it, but at least knowing I haven't been forgotten is enough. I attempted contact upon the surface for the first time. It must be that, subsurface has problems with the Weave or something I don't understand. It was good to finally read your words even if it was only a hand full.
***Break***

After cycles and cycles of suffocating boredom I finally caught a break. Stumbling upon the surface is opening the full picture. Bringing to light the dynamic of this Prime. Now I can finally get to work. If I am to be stuck here for my mortal life I might as well put use to it.
***Break***

Information, of course why did I not think of this before. Everywhere in this multiverse has a single currency and that is information. The more other's think you have the more important your image becomes. I need to make him think I am indispensable. Then maybe even the beatings will stop. In some ways I already am. There isn't a single truly loyal member of this crew, other then myself and I get beat the most. You can just feel it. Like the pillars supporting the empire are cracking. A comment here, a curious look there, the scavengers positioning for the biggest scrap when the entire place comes crumbling down.
***Break***

The Peel is there, It's just out of reach. Like that voice in my closet. The woman's voice calling out. Tip of my fingertips Berny. Tips of my fingertips. What did you use to say? Don't go looking for the Peel, take everything in and let it come to you. Traveled to the surface again, and I can't walk more then a block without getting some Berk asking to help me. It's the oddest thing. I swear the entire surface is filled with Bleakers if I didn't know better. The Peel is there, just got to let it show itself.
***Break***

Received another message still nonsense. Are mine the same? The Cage and here are much more similar then I first thought. There just more clueless here you need to wade through. An opportunity was tossed right into my lap. There are enough surface folks who if worked together could easily crush my owner. Not to mention those already in the subsurface wishing it, and the rats already within the crew. Everyone wants the Factol Chair, right? Be easy to pull together. Too easy, too messy, too Hive. Did you worry I was going native Berny? No, I haven't forgot The Game as you called it. I got a Peel though. I got it. Next message and I'll lay it out.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Fri Aug 04, 2017 2:13 am

I am not sure why I am even trying to send these anymore. There was no peel, no con, I made that up hopping you'd approve of the job I was doing here. But, that was long ago. I don't want your help having come to the conclusion you're not coming to get me. So perhaps these are now just for me. It's been nearly 3 years. Years, what they call when this sphere revolves around that burning orb in the sky. I don't think I am ever going to get grips how time is so rigid here, so set.
Anyway, I left him. The beast who was my master. It was the boredom, the yawns, the endless yawns. At one point actually hoping the ladies of the house would torture me just so there was something, Anything. So I left and went into hiding, hoping that they would think me penned. Hoped I give you the laugh as well. Living in hiding I did. To be free as they call it here. I lasted 2 years before my food ran out, and ending up caring about some concoction of medicines, potions, and booze just to get through my days. Living free almost killed me. So, I stopped doing it.

**Break**

I think I have gone native. I barely speak The Cant anyway, anymore. Nobody would understand anyway. Pretty much using the Nob language, no more myself. Just the job, just the peel. Is it a con anymore when you've forgotten who you were before? Even started thinking about faith, and the gods here. I know how one gets Mazed just for uttering such nonsense back home. But, here its so different. The gods are everywhere. In everything. Not a single clueless here doesn't have some god rattling around in that bone box of theirs. And, me an old Blood who is clueless about gods as the people here are about the multiverse around them.

**Break**

I gottah do something. I can't live my life stranded here scrubbing floors and bowing for the rest of my days. Too smart for that. A waste. Too many peels have I pulled to allow all that knowledge to waste away. Something is calling me. Pulling me. Like the voices in the dark inside that closet That beast of a master kept me in. That woman, I think, calling, but just out of hearing range am I. It's too dark, too loud. Cannot hear.

**Break**

Coming to understand why The Lady of Pain kept all the gods out of Sigil. They are powerful. The clueless primers here follow these gods without question. Few even care to fully understand what the gods are. Dark, light, good, bad, it's coming to the point where I don't see the difference. Each of these gods need followers it seems, and isnt' that the same as some Factol of a faction? I don't know. Tough following some berk god who you never see, or hear from. But, still I feel it deep inside. Like being on this prime is awakening my faith. Something I never understood or had at home. But, what do I do with it?

**Break**

I am fully consumed by this idea of faith. Of following or worshiping a god. Even if they don't make much sense to me. I can feel something deep inside tugging me. I have been told that one gravitates towards a god that fits what one is made up of. A god whose one goals aligns with theirs. Is there a god for an old whore whose life has been about one thing, entertainment? A god who will enjoy a mortal life of nothing but living one peel after another? So many cons and lies and acts of torture merely for clients enjoyment. What god would want an old Blood whose lived most of her life in service? Or maybe that's the point? All the primers here are in service of their gods. And they say I need to be free.

**Break**

I am pulling peels again for clients. Just sort of happen. Fell back into it like an old shoe. Just fit, gives me purpose, releases the Yawns. The Primers pity a lot easier then those back in The Cage. My soul hasn't been threaten to be taken away yet. Perhaps having such a limited life span does that. I don't know. So, I drop them a crumb. Not even sure why. I don't have any purpose as of yet. No true goals. My peels are just enough to entertain the clients, but not enough for clients to fully understand what an old Blood can do. Not yet anyway. The picture is there, I can see the Game unfold before me like I always have. I am just not sure I am ready to let it as of yet. I want to understand what is pulling me. What this idea of faith is, and why do I feel this way deep down inside. What true purpose do the gods have, and is one pulling me to it? Other times only thing I see is clueless berks running around like rats. Blarmy idiots just going from one cutter to the next begging for the biggest crumb. I don't know, maybe this place just deserves darkness. And I am not even sure what that last part even means.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Tue Aug 15, 2017 12:28 am

Damn these gods. I can see why the Lady of Pain tossed them out of The Cage. They are just confusing, and to me it seems these primers just use them to justify whatever they want to do. There are so many of them I can't keep them all straight. A god for justice, a god for wisdom and sorrow, and rage, and anger, and hate and taking a poop. It is baffling. Just thinking over it makes me want to take a dip into Pandamonium. They even have a god who they call The Lady of Pain, yet it isn't the true Lady of Pain ruler of The Cage. At least I don't think so, could it be the same?
*Break*

My clients are starting to ask more of me. I think I am getting noticed, and not in a good way. I gottah kip in this anthill filled with primitive berks. This city is run by some shady cutters. I got no doubt on this. They're smart but they no cagers. My clients want information. The crumbs I am dropping are starting to get noticed. It isn't going to lead back to me yet, I got a proper gully for that. But, Gully or not If I am not careful I'll be facing the music for sure.
*Break*

It's time to take the crutch off. I am going to get this barbaric leash off one way or another. I can't stand it anymore. Am I free without it? You know that better then anyone Berny. No. No one is ever free of you. Even if you are on another plane of existence and completely cut off of contact. You are still my Master. I even keep sending these things knowing full well you stopped replying. The king of manipulation right Berny? Probably rise to a god here. Berny the god of Manipulation. Everyone in The Cage would get a hoot out of that. But, nobody would be laughing on the inside right Berny? Because, they are all your slaves, every single one of us. Clueless primers don't understand. Slaves are collared in the mind.
*Break*

Damn you to the mazes Berny. You did something to me. You have been doing something to me since the beginning. And only now that I am away from you have I noticed. Large chunks of dark in my mind. Memories that I should know, but don't. There's a priestess here. A client. She a proper blood, probably could make it as a Cager, maybe. Anyway, she did something to me. Took something away. I can feel it. A dark spot in my memories like a book with one character's name blacked out on every page. It should be there, it's suppose to be there, but it isn't. I remember every moment since I got here except that. But, it did something else.
It got me thinking of back home. How I am missing pages in my book of memories. Whole chapters that have been torn out. Why I lie half the time about my past because it is dark in my mind. I do it without even noticing. Fill in the dark parts of my memories by instinct, but never truly think about why. Until now. You took those pages Berny. I know you did. It could not be anyone else. And now that I am away from you I am going to find out why.
*Break*
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Mon Aug 21, 2017 4:57 pm

You thought of everything didn't you Berny? Or did I try to think of everything? I DON"T KNOW! What a mess. A primitive backwater coney coming up with the idea of interwoven memory replacement. Incorporating memories into a material. A material when woven together pieced together one's lost memories. Ingenious, I am not even sure how it suppose to work, but it did. Now the missing pieces in my mind are woven in a cloak. A Cloak! Ugly cloak too. Wear the cloak the pieces fall back into place. Wear it long enough the pieces stay, not enough the pieces fall away. Did you truly think my memories wouldn't come back here? No, that isn't right, did I truly think my memories wouldn't come back? Or maybe this is just another of your tricks. Gods damn you to the 9 hells Berny I swear you can see into the future.
*Break*

I don't have them all, the names of clients are still gone, and details of most of the targets as well. What I do have are pieces. Training to play The Game. The subtle manipulation of those people around a target. Words dropped in ears to undermine them. Facts left for others to find. For others to draw conclusions that I, no you, wanted. How do you eliminate someone or something when you cannot die? What do you do with an immortal being controlling a faction? You can't assassinate them, right Berny? No use doing that if they don't get penned in the Dead Book, just going to return the next cycle. No, but you can assassinate their character. Destroy the very foundation of whoever they are. Bring them to the very point that they'll sign their own damn name into the Dead Book. That is what you trained us to do Berny, and after a lifetime of playing I had had enough.
*Break*

Ironic that I fell back into exactly what I was running from. Gathering information, finding weak points on a target. How to abuse and weaken a target's foundation. A host of abilities I don't want and can't even help using. My memories weren't taken. I had them removed. Removed to get away from you. I don't want to play The Game anymore. I used what you taught me to get away, then had my own memories erased. A feeble attempt to perhaps have some kind of life without The Game. Yet I was so piken foolish I couldn't leave it alone and brought the blasted memories back again. I am an idiot. Still always a slave no matter how hard I try to flee from you and your damn Game.
*Break*

I took the cloak off and my training, my memories of who I was are quickly fading. It isn't going to matter. The training is so deep, so part of my being, I cannot help doing it. It's who I am. No, I am not taking off the cloak so I can forget a life full of sins. I am taking off the cloak to forget how much of a slave I truly am. How every single moment of my life was attached to a string that you were pulling. How it doesn't matter how far I run, I am always still and forever a slave.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Thu Aug 31, 2017 2:33 pm

The Hardheads are sniffing on me. It was bound to happen, but this is a lot sooner then I had hoped. The faction that runs this anthill The Family are looking to put their foot down. Stamp out anything that might even resemble a threat. Using the lawmen to do it. They are feeling pressure from the Three Headed god folks. I have little doubt. So they are making good face to the populace and trying show force. That's how it works Berny my boy! Just follow one's orders without a second thought and toss some old slave into a birdcage. Question her for days. Pin some nonsense on her and send her to The Pit. Well guess what? They don't send you to Carceri here, nope. I doubt many of the these clueless have any idea what that plane is. Lucky for me.
*break*

The funny thing is they are doing me a favor. These Birdcages are nothing like they are back home, and the best thing? They feed you and you can't get yanked away by this primitive leash around my neck. And the cells are huge! And another thing? I haven't had a finger laid upon me. Sure the questions can get silly, but no teeth or nails getting yanked off, no mindflyer tadpole, no psionic pulling my secrets out of my brainbox. Just questions, that's it. One's I don't even need to lie about. Hells I have and would help them if I believed for a moment they truly cared about me. One of the Hardheads actually said they would take my leash off. I didn't believe it for a moment, but still one can always hope.
*break*

I just realized how foolish I am, my old mind is leaving me. I need to be careful about making too much noise in here. I get the feeling these hardheads questioning me have little idea who their masters are. The questions are all wrong. This could be a problem. The Family, are good enough to distance themselves from the lower Hardheads which is smart. But, those lower minions could bite you in the Snuggybear if you aren't careful, and I could be the one leading the crumbs to it. I don't want attention from the powerful. These Hardheads aren't completely clueless, and sooner or later they will stumble to the right questions. I just need to be out of here before they do.
*break*

I am in trouble. The Hardheads aren't getting what they want and they are starting to talk about pinning more bogus charges against me. They want to win. Oh how the law will lie to help their careers. This could get me exiled. That would set me back ages. I would be alone in some barbaric prime wandering in those green things being eaten by fluffy creatures. Horrifying. I can't stay here forever. I can go about this a couple of different ways. Do I go over their heads and bring in the one higher up that I am pretty sure isn't part of The Family? Do I just accept the bogus charges, and see if I can get help from the Rubes I have been buttering up to get me back in? Do I really split the box wide open and get in touch with The Family and lay it all out?
*break*

I have to get this damn leash off. It is no longer a crutch to use for sympathy, its a piken noose. This would not have happen if I was smart enough to find a way to get the blasted thing off! Always a slave, always a slave gods damn slave.
*break*

I am going to try and go over their heads, and speak with someone who might actually have some sense of duty to help the weak. Is there truly such a thing? The only thing they have close to our Bleakers. These low rung Hardheads are going to be angry, and sniff even more on me, but its the best choice. Hopefully, The Family will keep ignoring me, and it will give me time to get this choke chain off. Hey Berny, a Cager worried about time? I have truly gone native.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Fri Sep 01, 2017 2:36 pm

I am a stupid old woman. A clueless rube who deserve to wear this damn leash till I am penned. Till my body is rotting in a ditch or whatever these primers do with their dead. I never had a chance. All of them where part of The Family. The entire city is under their control and their fingers are poking all across the surface of this prime. There were no safe higher-ups to talk to. None would give the skin off their boils to help some outsider Slave. In fact I watched them laugh at me outside my cell. Laughing at the clueless outsider, because they played her so well. I have been banished from the only place I had a sliver of enjoyment in. Banished because I got noticed.
*Break*

It's even worse then I thought. I underestimated the primers and I have paid dearly for it. I have been labeled a spy, charged with treason towards the Crown, and banished forever. This spy label has also been passed on to others, greatly hurting my chance of ever getting my leash removed. Not only that, all the peels I was working on have been ruined. No one wishes to do business with a spy. Cannot be trusted I keep hearing. Cannot trust the Outsider with her fantastic made up past, and her connection with the enemies. This is the work of The Family. Straight out of your book Berny. Can't kill a small time cutter, then what do we do? We pin garbage on them. Leave crumbs so their friends turn on them. Then when they are all out of options they are forced to sell their soul. I swear to the Lady of Pain herself you have a hand in this somehow, but that isn't even possible.
*Break*

What do I do now? Do I sell my soul? Do I turn to a god I am not even sure how to worship? Do I put faith in these idiotic primers again? Do I go back to the animals in the darkness and serve? No. I cannot go back. I will not go back. I am forever a slave, but I will not serve fools. Not ever again.
*Break*

The Dark. The answers are in the dark. Just like when I was huddling in that dark closet that that beast of a master kept me in. That was the only true place I was not a slave. She was there, whispering. I have lost sight of that. That is the answer. I was putting my faith in primers who only care about themselves, and not where it should be. Faith. Faith is the answer. Faith in the Dark. I have been fighting without even realizing it. I am such a fool! Only those of faith treat me not as a slave, but as a person. Not a thing of property, but an equal. But, there are so little of them. So little of those of true faith.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Tue Sep 05, 2017 4:59 pm

Returned to the darkness and it provides. Why was I ever foolish enough to put my trust in surface folks? Is that what I am calling them now? I have been here enough to almost lose all the cager speak. But, that matters little now. I have found a place. It took me all this time, and clueless others actively worked against me to hide it, but I have finally been shown. It's a place of quiet for those leashed. A place were we can find a short respite from our masters. A hidden place. A stranger led me to it, and here I may find some peace. If only for a short time.
*break*

There are others here, I have met them. The stranger for one, a orc-blooded who might be close to my age. Why my mind keeps going back to him, or even feel the need to mention it I have little idea. I have spent as much time as I can here, the place is protected my leash does not work. I wish to meet as many of my brother's and sisters as I can. For we are a family, those born or bred into this life. Nobody can truly understand what it means to be us, and perhaps others will come and share their story with me. Maybe I am being foolish. These words sounding so foreign in my ears. Perhaps this is something I have never known, is it hope?
*break*

I still haven't met the one who has tried to keep me from here. I am not sure what I will do when I do, for I am still unsure what I feel about it. Feelings! A glimmer of hope and suddenly I am feeling again? I am going down a dangerous path. Am I angry? Sad? No, I think not. I just understand. One would do the same I believe in their position. Would protect what they feel is theirs. There is something special about this place, but I still do not understand what. One thing is sure, it is my place. My closet of darkness to hide in. A place where the barbarian primitives of this prime cannot summon, cannot toy with me.
*break*

My leash can be removed. So long have I searched, and for the first time the goal can be seen. I owe it all to my orcblooded stranger. Again, my mind goes back to him. Why? Is it because he is the one who finally ignored The Game. Understood a slave's life? Knew words spoken by clueless mean nothing? Maybe I am giving him too much credit. Perhaps he truly did not learn of me before we met. Perhaps it was just dumb luck I reached out to him. No, the multiverse does not work that way. He is of the dark, his words spoke to this. A freedom fighter he called himself. A terrorist called by many. All that matters is he brought me here, and that stirs something in me that I cannot understand.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Fri Sep 08, 2017 2:48 am

We find teachers in oddest places. The one who has my true name and acts as my Master is a lunatic. He is a vile creature who enjoys chaos. He has no true purpose or direction other then what is upon his mind at the time. HIs brainbox is so flooded with paranoia that it bleeds out his head holes. Orders are changed every time I see him. Commands are given that I might be soon punish for attempting to complete. Since the moment he took me, I was disgusted by him. Unprofessional, incomprehensible, and total lack of any type of direction. He is like an abusive mate. At one moment dragging me around by my hair, just to be presented roses soon after. Impossible to work with or for. He is the main if only reason I cannot continue wearing this leash, because I just might loose my own mind if it continues. And, he might just be the teacher I truly need?
*Break*

The Game has rules: Words are weapons. Never give up the con, The peel. What is not said is just as important if not more, and so on. The Cage has rules: Never speak to The Lady of Pain. Never put a Tanar'ri and a Baatizu on the same crew. One survives on wits not physical strength, and there is no such thing as an elderly mortal in The Hive (would never survive that long). The multiverse even has a rule: The Rule of Three. Even Pandamonium does things its suppose to do. This primitive prime has no rules. No guidelines, no frame of reference. Nothing here makes sense, because nothing here acts as it is suppose to.
*Break*

Perhaps I keep failing, perhaps I do not understand, because this isn't The Cage, and I keep trying to play with Cage Rules. My teacher, perhaps I am finally accepting that, survives even when everything upon this prime despises him. It does not make sense. I have spoken to many, and cannot find a single being that would not keep his head as a trophy, yet he thrives. I myself have had ample opportunity to have others destroy him. Yet, I do not. Why? This question is driving me mad. I want nothing more then to get this damn leash off so he cannot summon me at his whim. But a part of me feels something will be missed without him, or maybe something learned? Dear gods, am I a broken slave?
*Break*

Positivity. That's it. It is so simple yet something so few here have. My Teacher finds positivity in every error, fault, or loss. Even when he catches me in a lie, after his general paranoia settles, he makes it a positive. It has to be madness, yet it works so perfectly. When he exposes what I am to the public I think nothing other then lancing a fork into his eye. It is a sin in our faith, (am I calling it my faith now?) and the others will come for him for it. But, if I think like him? Outing me in public is perfect because who would believe a madman. Not to mention what follower of The Lady would publicly out another? Not that I believe anymore he follows any faith, his faith is chaos, but even if another believes him you can learn from that too. Is there a method to his madness? No, there cannot be and perhaps that is how it works. A Drow who follows a god of complete darkness and despair, and is nuttier then any Bleaker in The Cage, is the most positive being in this place. That should not be. That should be a crime against the Multiverse. But, in this place it works perfectly and that is what I need to learn to thrive as he does.
*Break*

There is beauty in it. Every foolish thing that comes from his mouth, every plan that will never work, every incomprehensible sentence is beauty. Sheer elegant beauty. There are times I wonder if he even believes what he is saying, and the answer to that does not matter. It isn't what is right or wrong, good or bad just the pure chaos and positive vibes of his own words. He doesn't fail or falter because his madness doesn't allow it. Failure is learning.
*Break*

Failure is learning. Failure is learning? We learn more from failure then anything else. Gods, what if he is making me fail because I cannot learn otherwise? What if he isn't mad, and I am the fool for believing? No, he is not you Berny. This is just chaotic luck. No man is better at The Game then you are. But, what if? No, I am giving him too much credit. Nothing is planned with My Teacher, that is for sure, and he is a lousy con man, or the best I have ever seen. No, yes? This madness is infecting.
*Break*

I truly believe I will be the one who takes My Teacher's head, and it won't be out of anger, or fear, or some screwed up primer justice. It will be out of respect and poetic beauty. I dream of it often, a perfect ambush with many witnesses, he would respect that. Me slicing a blade slowly through his neck whispering he was my finest teacher. Him smiling up at his pupil eyes truly proud. His blood showering over my face and hands as he forces laughter through choking gurgles. My first murder. My first kill. My first assassination. I think he wishes for it, yearns for it, wants nothing more for it to happen. A beautiful ending in all its chaotic glory. A slave killing her master not out of hate, but out of respect and as thanks. A slave not killing for freedom, but just another con of others. I think he would enjoy that very much.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Fri Sep 15, 2017 4:01 pm

I can't do it anymore. I am so tired, so worn out. My exact age is unknown of course with how time worked in Sigil, but if I had to guess I am in my early 50's here. Yet, I feel like I am much older, look much older. How am I suppose to relearn everything I have ever known? If I don't, I cannot survive here this has become painfully apparent. But, I just don't know how to adapt.
I am too complicated. My Peels have so many layers nobody else can understand them, and by Cager standards I am an idiot! Why won't these primers look between the words! Nothing is taken face front, yet everyone seems to do just that. It is so maddening.
*Break*

My Teacher grows more and more paranoid every passing cycle. He is beginning to leave me out of things. Not that he ever included me, but he has even stopped boasting. Just orders that make little sense and increasingly more vague. I have fulfilled my orders, every single one. Yet, I am being phased out by my best guesses. It isn't clear what happen, but my thoughts are he is tightening his grip on his power being so fearful of loosing it. He is becoming powerful that is no doubt, and that is feeding his paranoia. I watched the same thing happen with that pig Arakh. They begin to close off those that have been with them the longest fearing they are some how going to turn on them. Then, isolated and alone, they are easy prey for the vultures. Primers make no sense to me.
*Break*

My best hope is I will be forgotten, which will give me time to get this leash off. Then perhaps my disappearance will hardly be noticed. If things do get dicey, and his paranoia reaches unbearable levels, I have come up with a decent Peel to get him to leave me be. It would mean going to a more dangerous Master in the long run, but at least she isn't insane. Well, as far as, Primers go anyway.
*Break*

I was ordered to infiltrate the surface cities, again. Just another go do this and get out of my hair type order. Sometimes I wonder how much could actually get done if he had a sliver of lucidity. Anyway, I will use this opportunity to make some connections. Figure out who my next master will be once the leash comes off. I even pulled a decent peel to get back into Cordor.
*Break*

It seems the Hardhead who originally banished me, now owns the Nomad. It was an impressive Peel I must admit. I am not sure how she ousted my former employers, but I have little doubt my absence helped greatly. Now I work for her. I am a Rube, little doubt, if something goes wrong it will be hung upon my neck. This is quite obvious. I just need to become as useful to her as possible before anything does happen. With enough time, hopefully, I can become less expendable. She will never be a Blood or even a Cutter by Cager standards, but for a primer perhaps I wouldn't mind her as a Master. We'll see. My hopes aren't very high.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Wed Sep 20, 2017 2:04 pm

This is long, but I need to get this out so I can make sense of it all.

It had been a while since I have been truly violated. Working in the Brothel, the first and second time physically, after that you are numb to it. Luckily none of the Psions did mentally. No, it took me coming here before that happened. A while ago I went to the Greybeards to help remove my leash. It was suggested they may be able to remove it by magical means. This was false. What I got was empty promises then turned away. That is until they needed me.

I was placed in a pocket plane, a quite unique Birdcage, impressive even by Cager standards. It seemed My Teacher had taken one of their properties, and I was going to be used as a bargaining chip for its return. My Teacher had told me to do it earlier, and I ignored the request. The idea was just another of his convoluted rantings. I was attempting to find The Property to warn her, just to be taken by her Greybeard Faction.

This is when things got well for lack of a better word, bonkers. I was accused of working for my Teacher, and something called a Sharress. I assume they spoke of this primer god Shar. The church I have had contact with. This was quite expected due to My Teacher announcing it at every opportunity he could. An attempt at control I shall assume. There was nothing I could do. They seemed to fear this god, and threatened to kill me. Primers seem to place every mortal into catagories depending on what god you follow. You announce this god and you must act and behave as if cloned as all the gods followers. Truth or logic be damned, and remember this is Greybeards who are suppose to bathe in logic.

Then they just let me walk out. As if nothing happen. The property just showed up. I could not believe my eyes. The level of foolishness that these primers, even the ones who are suppose to be the most intelligent is dumbfounding. I am not even sure if she was just lost or going for a walk. Maybe even going for a bite to eat, I might never know. I could not hold my tongue. So I questioned their Factol, why didn't he just ask what he wished to know? This was such a mistake.

This is when I was violated. I was told they had the means to tell if one was telling truth or fiction. I assumed one of them might be a Psion, which again was foolish, because they would have just used it in the beginning. No, they put me in some type of archaic contraption. A primitive thing that allowed one thoughts for viewing. The most sacred place one's mind. The only place really that hadn't been abused by another, My thoughts. They were viewed by a crowd of people as I laid sprawled out upon cold granite, like a cheap used whore. They viewed my only private place as they interrogated me. They assaulted my inner self for simple truths and amusement. Ironically the very same truths I had already told this Factol when I first met him.

Simple questions that could be learned if any of these clueless berks would look between the words. Truths were spoken, and showed. Then I was tossed out the front door. Used and toss out like any young harlot trying not to starve upon the streets. It was like being violated for the first time all over again. That same sickness in your gut. The thoughts of if only I had done something different. That it was my fault, because it was.

I thought I had mastered stuffing my emotions deep inside. Being dead on the outside so the inside stopped hurting. I was wrong. I am not sure why this hurt so bad. I have had beatings so much worse. Perhaps because when one is violated they don't see it coming. They aren't prepared, and its the surprise factor. I always had my mind to retreat too even if many parts were missing, and now even that place is not safe.

I am not sure were I am going from here, or if I am even going to keep sending these. They are just floating around in some dream state some where in the multiverse anyway.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Wed Sep 27, 2017 4:39 pm

My Teacher is no more. His mind is completely lost in Pandamonium, and no matter what I did it could not be worked with. So, I removed the leash, my crutch. I must go on without him, alone. He Is a broken being. It had came to the point every word he uttered had no meaning. Every order had no point. No meaning behind the lies. The information he would boast about so false I could not possibly get any use out of it. There wasn't a single being that I had seen him with that wasn't working for another. These beings shared his plans with others so rapidly that they failed before even getting started. This would send him into child-like tirades blaming me. Anger fits that were petty and useless, and just further evidence of out of control spiraling paranoia.

I came to the conclusion he wished to flood every channel of information with lies. That it wass his way of destruction and pretty much all he had left. If nothing can be believed then chaos triumphs. He didn't consciously do it, because his mind is now outside the realm of sanity. But, it wasn't working anyway. The list of enemies grew so large there was no possibly of getting anything accomplished. Every person he thought worked for him was feeding him garbage. Even those of the darkness ignored him, and the Church abandoned him. He was and is broken. This is why I left. This is why I removed my leash. Now what happens?
*break*

This time has been coming, and I have prepared for it. Things are not perfect, but Peels of this size never are. Again, A Cager worrying about running out of time. I have decided not to gift My Teacher with being my first murder. It will come to the point where he will ask for it, perhaps even beg for it, but it will serve no purpose. I shall respectively state I am leaving. It is time I go on my own. Perhaps in a moment of clarity he will understand, and respect this. Perhaps even realizing it was I whom gifted him infamy. The Crumbs I left are now considered facts. Maybe after time he will learn I did nothing but everything he ever asked. Then, hopefully, what was lost will dawn upon him, and it will lead to change. The change leading to understanding, that I was always his slave, and his insanity forced me away. Hope? When have I ever had that. Perhaps the result of being without a Master?
*break*

It is scary. I am for the first time since a small child, alone. I have no master. No one to direct or order me, and it is leading to emotions. Fear and doubt of the unknown, things that aren't needed when you serve others. These emotions are uncomfortable and I wish rid of them quickly. This will be rectified by finding another to lead me. One whom possesses a degree of professionalism I require. A master who will properly use my talents, and understand what my purpose is. There are very few I would label a Blood, or even a Cutter upon this clueless prime so the search will be difficult. I do not require perfection, because that is impossible here, but I will never serve a fool again. Never serve a fool again.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Tue Oct 03, 2017 5:40 pm

The search for my new master has been difficult. Not because there aren't enough honorable candidates, but more because I cannot choose. Choice is difficult. I do not enjoy it. It would be so much easier if one would just take me. But, perhaps that time of my life is over. The leash is off, and I will not put It back on. The chance of serving a fool in this place is too great. This time of being alone won't last too much longer. I must just suppress this loneness.
*break*

There are times that I question if this place truly is a Prime. I always pictured primitive primers acting like barbarians, and this is quite true, but there is something else going on. Something I keep coming back too. What if this isn't a Prime? What is this is actually some type of purgatory? Perhaps even the Plane of Despair? I am not ready to go as far as the Plane of Despair, but something is wrong. Death doesn't act like it should, or at least how I pictured it. Those here die, but they return as if very little happen. This is very similar to The Cage. But, In The Cage being written into the Death Book was the only way to leave without a key. Here True Death is not an escape. True Death is more like giving up. This is what leads me to believe that we may be in a place like The Plane of Despair, but different in some way.
Then again, what if I am getting this wrong? Perhaps this place is attempting to show how fruitless, how pointless it is to keep on coming back from death? That we are not giving up, but moving on to something more?
*break*

What if the Doom Guard was correct? That everything is attempting to fall into entropy, and these primers are just barely keeping it from doing so? Perhaps this is why I am pulled toward this faith I know so little about? The ones that are still around do not seem to fully understand their own faith, and so I have to learn upon my own. My Teacher, no my Former Teacher has now tossed the faith into chaos. So, the temple is empty because none wish to deal or be outed by him. It is curious that I feel a little sadness in my heart about it. So much potential wasted because of a single person. This sadness will quickly be discarded. Emotions are such a weakness sometimes, so it will be suppressed.
*break*

Primers are so confusing, but there are a few constants. They do not fear death, or even True Death, they fear being alone. They fear having a pointless life. They fear looking foolish. What a pointless existence. The evidence is so blatantly right before their eyes! If I can so plainly see it why can they not? The idea is not to give up, but move on from this place. To stop returning from death and accept it. There is more then this, and that is what The Dark Lady is trying to accomplish. Not to cause chaos and mayhem as my Former Teacher believes, but to bring end this foolish place. This foolish way to exist. We do not act like fools, we do not out others for our own benefit, not because it will harm us, but because there is no reason for it. Acting to improve yourself over the Dark Lady means you are holding on to this place. You are not accepting what she is trying to show us. That this place is for fools. The fools who wish to hold on to it.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Fri Oct 20, 2017 3:29 pm

..
Last edited by DSM-IV on Thu Nov 09, 2017 4:11 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Wed Nov 08, 2017 6:54 pm

I feel old. Not that I will accept True Death anytime soon, just foolish and slow. My new Master has died. She has accepted True Death and left this plane of existence. Whatever Plane this is. Again I haven't decided if this is truly a prime or not. I am still leaning no. Anyway, since removing my leash, emotions still an issue. Now it is loss. She was a true Blood. Knew The Game as well as any Cager. The first primer I have met that would have thrived in Sigil. Then she was just gone.
*Break*

Maybe this feeling is due to realizing how much was accomplished in such a short time. That we accomplished. Cordor was controlled by three distinct factions. The Hardhats, lets drop the Cager chant and call them Lawmen, The Clover Crew, and The Assassins. The Clover Crew a local pub name run by a bunch of decent Conies trying to make a name for themselves and ran by a talented but over eager Dwarf. The Assassins a loose faction of professional killers run by a respectable cutter who is a little low on imagination. The Hardhats, sorry Lawmen, pretty much made up of a few clueless primers, spies from both other crews, and a Tiefer barely keeping the thing together.

I was picked up by The Assassins. The Factol there could recognize talent and scooped me up quickly the moment he knew I had my leash removed. That is were I met My new Master. She was running a multi-prong peel, placing herself high up in both The Clover Crew, and The Assassins, as well as, infiltrating some outside Rubes when strength was needed. She also recognized my talent and approached me. I was impressed to put it mildly. Sure she was still a primer and prone to being emotional, but she had so much talent. Then she was just gone.

A quick series of events transpired. Some being peels we had been setting up from the beginning, others I still don't understand and that is why I feel old. Not understanding doesn't happen. That is what I do, read what is happening behind the words. Council my masters with the best information possible. That is how I have survived this long! Yet I don't know what happen to My Master, and that is just foolish.

The Dwarf of The Clover Crew came out around his Hillcock. Took a job too big for his crew, threw his weight around against The Assassins without enough men to back it up. We saw an opening and took it. Crumbs were left, the Rubes picked it up and The Clover crew got hammered. Cordor was down to The Assassins and The Lawmen. The Assassins pretty much primed to run the city, since most the lawmen were either clients or on the payroll. Then Disaster. My Master was taken by The Lawmen and executed in such a way she accepted True Death.

Just like that. It didn't make sense. My Master had been inside both the Assassins and The Clover Crew. I was inside The Assassins, and had continued to run my Underground slave peel with The Lawmen . Both of us were playing the Outside Rubes and running other peels to support our positions. The set up was perfect, and was working perfectly. Nearly 80% of relevant island information funneled and controlled between us two. That is good Cager numbers! I dare say I was a little proud. Then for no reason, I can understand, My Master gets captured and executed. I cannot and will not accept this. She was too smart and talented to have some simple barbaric primers scoop her up under some meaningless charges and then accept True Death. Some thing more is going on that I cannot see, again, making me feel old! If anyone should have given her the sweet embrace of The Dark Lady it should have been me. My Master deserved better.
*Break*

Loss, and lost. Could I just take a factol position? I can see a path how I could. The slave who ran the world. No, too easy almost? I don't know. No, that isn't what I am. I serve. I am a Slave. Do I continue to run with The Assassins, building up their factor? He is a professional but seriously lacks imagination. A cutter I could prop up, but too careful and smart to be propped into true greatness. He is limited. Maybe? Such indecision.

Do I go with the Tiefer of the Lawmen? Sure she is just a primer and vastly over confident in her position, but she is a fiend blooded who runs a faction who rules over a bunch of clueless primers. That in itself is pretty impressive, but can be too unprofessional for my liking, a little too close to My Teacher perhaps? Her childish anger and uncontrolled emotions would be difficult to control, but I could prop her to greater hights then the Assassin Factol. Hells, could make her a god with these primitive screw heads. Maybe even destroy the entire island in darkness with her. No, now I am being overconfident. Am I?

Of course, I could put both of them at war and just see what happens. No, stupid and unproductive. That is the barbarism of this place talking. What if I use The Assassins, to build up The Tiefer? An onion of a Peel that would be. So many layers to it this old brain-box might burst, but it just might be possible. Build her into a god and watch this island rip itself apart over it. Tempting, oh so tempting. Something to think about to get over these damn emotions.
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Re: The Maid Report

Post by DSM-IV » Sat Nov 11, 2017 7:59 pm

Barbarians, caste the lot of these primitives into the hells. Clueless berk get your motions under control. They cloud the brainbox and mistakes are made. Bury these emotions into the darkness. Bury them. Bury Them.
*break*

All the names involved with My Master's execution have been found. Barbarians, not a decent Cutter or even a primer conie in the lot of them. Hells, even the Tiefling doesn't know what really happen and she runs them. My Master was peeling the Chancellor and the Lawmen, showing Basher so The Dwarf and Assassins would consider her worthy. A simple peel that shouldn't have set her mind into a place to accept True Death. The key isn't the execution, its what put her mind to accept True Death. What Happen?!
*break*

Emotions, bury them.
*break*

The Assassins finger The Dwarf. Which would be the logical answer. No boss however small the crew doesn't take their territory being taken over lightly. Especially if he knew just how well My Master peeled him. But, no crumbs, Nothing. What if this just was random? What if she just got fed up with these primitive barbarians? She was a finely crafted piece of art. I envision it like this, you are a beautiful statue or painting that belongs in The Society of Sensation's finest museum. Instead, you are tossed out onto a Prime with primitives who had no idea what they are looking at. So what do they do? Simply poo all over it. Would the art wish to exist in such filth? I am coming to the conclusion this is what happen. Too few understand The Game here, and she just couldn't stand it any longer. I can relate, oh can I relate.
*break*

Emotions, bury them deep. Bury them in the darkness. Her forever comforting embrace.
*break*

It's done. I cannot let it afford to tug at emotions and cloud my judgement any longer. The Dwarf is gone, and she was primed to take over the entire city, but in her absence a massive void, a vacuum, has developed. The Assassins Factol doesn't want to grip it personally because he actually understands he isn't the right tool for the job. There isn't anyone in his crew talented enough to pull it off, so what does he do? Tries to shove a Tanar'ri into a crew filled with Baatezu. Orders me to take over.
He expects me to run a crew of primitive Conies and Bashers without a single decent Cutter in the bunch. I cannot deal or even attempt to understand clueless primers, how am I suppose to run a crew to control an entire city swarming with barbarians I barely understand? I can't is the answer. And knowing that why do I even care? The void will be filled. There will be blood upon the streets till something settles out, but nothing enough to destroy the city. So what would be the point? The answer would be I lose both position and importance and more then likely seriously damage my ability to survive in this nightmare. This city is now my home. I must fill the void, and I cannot do it with a square peg in a round hole.
*break*

The Tiefer, it fits, and oh so beautiful it would fit. She understands these barbarians, and knows how to control them. She is the blunt instrument needed, but can I frame it for her to accept? That is the problem. Her position within the Guard is precarious at best at nearly all times. She seems to talk much more then listen. From my view she is loyal near fault to those who don't attempt to take what is hers. Hells, her lover is a serious liability yet she still keeps him around. Yet she is the law in the eyes of The Assassins. The crew would never accept working under her directly. I would need to act as buffer between the two. A blind for The Teifer to hide, while I work the Cordor Crew of the Assassins'. There it is. That is the Onion of a Peel I mentioned before.
It was going to come to this. It always going to come to this, even back when she first banished me from Cordor I had the feeling it would. She would either become My Master, or caste be the one to Caste me back into the Hells. The Game just had to be played out a little. If I muck up the peel I am done. Banished from Cordor, and probably working for some Barbarian who wouldn't understand a peel if it squirted it in the eye. A big risk. A huge risk. But, I don't see any other angle. I am forced to come out from my Hillock, and see what comes of it.
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