November 19th, 2088

I am currently cursing my bad luck.  Sweat is starting to appear on my brow, and I am regretting discovering this damn world more so than usual.  I am desperately trying to keep my calm and figure a way out of this extraordinarily dangerous situation.  Why am I cursed to live such an eventful live?  

I had reappeared in my masked form in Obsidia after my 10-day disappearance and promptly afterwards the city guard came to tell me that the Cult of Chains would like to interview me about my meeting with the High Inquisitor that occurred 2 days before his disappearance.  I was being treated as a witness, not a suspect, which was a good sign yet I couldn’t help but have a bad premonition.  I arrived at the Temple of Adligo without incident.  

I was a rather popular individual amongst the guards so they were quite polite.  I guess that’s one of the bonuses of bribing so many of them over the years.  I was expecting to interview with the new interim High Inquisitor, but was instead told that the Dutiful Erilom had shown interest in me and decided to do the interview personally.  I was subsequently requested to disarm and remove my armor pieces as a security precaution.  Son of a bitch. 

I was led to her extravagant office which should have its picture under the word opulent in the dictionary.  There was a soft carpet made from the skins of Ancient Frost Wind Tigers on the floor and shimmering curtains made from the wings of a Rainbow Dragon Monarch Butterfly framed large windows that gave a magnificent view of Obsidia.  The cabinets were made from 1,000-year old Black Heart of Evil Oak and were filled with a near priceless collection of books on all topics. 

A large ornate desk matching the cabinet could be seen placed in a far corner of the office, with a towering pile of papers on top of it.  A grand fireplace was the focal point of the room and was carved from a single piece of Eternal Tundra Marble by a legendary sculptor.   In the center of the room, where the desk should have been there were an assortment of soft floor cushions and pillows made from the silk of the Emperor Jade Silkworm.  Right behind it was a breath taking silverwood antique chaise lounge. 

Lying on that chaise lounge was the Dutiful Erilom adorned with her 5 Chains of Adligo outfit.  And much to my disgust, her bishounen slave harem occupied the floor cushions located at the foot of the chaise.  4 elves, 2 pixies, 1 bunny-kin, and 3 dog-kin were there.  One was fanning her with a fan made from the feathers of a Phoenix while a different one was holding a bowl of grapes that she was elegantly sampling.  2 others were busy massaging her feet, a third one was giving her a shoulder rub.  Lastly, one was holding a pitcher of water and a cup for her to drink out of made from white gold. 

The remaining 3 poor souls were lounging in between me and her.  Son of a bitch.  What the hell does this massive pervert want with me?  I had already browsed through some of Eual’s memories of the Cult and seen the extent of its corruption, but experiencing it first hand is something else entirely.  This is her office for goodness’ sake and yet it looked like a damn pleasure house.  Why is the desk in the corner? How many damn unfinished papers does it take to make a stack that tall?

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I shudder at the thought of what she does when she’s not “working”.  The Dutiful Erilom finally noticed my presence after what seemed like an eternity to me.  “Hello Terra.  It’s a pleasure to meet someone who has been such a sensation over the last few years.  I’m a huge fa~n.”  She spoke in a playful and seductive tone.  That’s all that it took for me to realize what was really going on.

And back we are to the present, where I have just realized that the Dutiful Erilom has locked onto me.  Not in a hostile way, which I am in fact quite used to, but in a lustful way.  Someone who is in possession of godly magic artifacts and the unquestioning loyalty of one of the most powerful groups in the world is hitting on me.  This is bad.  Based off of Eual’s memories, it’s a well-known fact within the upper echelons of the Cult that Erilom is a completely useless hedonist. 

However, she is extremely charismatic and popular among the masses.  Combine that with her skillful use of bribery, coercion and manipulation of those who would oppose her, it’s been accepted that there is no way to forcefully replace her.  Eual had been skillfully managing the Cult’s affairs and was the de facto leader while Erilom was simply the figurehead.  He had been making inroads into curbing the rampant corruption before his demise and had widely been considered the best hope for the Cult to get back to its true purpose of helping maintain order for everyone.  Shit, did I just kill a good guy? 

From Eual’s memories I have also learned what Erilom’s favorite hobby is:  seducing young men to the point where they willingly offer themselves to her and ask her to apply the Slave Mark to them.  She succeeds more often than not.  She’s patient and calculating and has taken years if necessary to succeed.  All members of her harem were caught in this manner.  She kills them once they get too old for her tastes.  Her bedroom apparently is covered with the portraits of all her prey and there is a crypt beneath her bed where she keeps their remains. 

Please spare me from this horror film setting, I just want to get the hell out of here.  I gave a disinterested stare to Erilom as I waited for her to actually get to the questioning.  Her smile widened and I felt a chill go down my spine as she continued to speak “Anywa~y, I had originally called you here because I wanted to ask you about your meeting with High Inquisitor Kovart, but on your way over we discovered his notes from the meeting so it’s no longer necessary.”  Why the hell am I here then?  Erilom snapped her fingers and all of her slave harem started to leave.  They all had sad expressions as they filed out like they couldn’t bear to not be near her.  I feel nauseous. 

“But I still have something I wanted to talk to you about.”  She got up and walked over to me with a regal poise and grace.  Her body was near fully exposed as usual and she radiated the so called “onee-san” aura.  She grabbed my arm and pressed it tightly to her chest as she stood on her tip-toes to whisper sexily in my ear “I happen to have a direct request that I was hoping you’d take.  Let’s go somewhere more private to talk about the details.”  A direct request from the Dutiful One is bound to be something troublesome, please let it be something I can decline.