"*Sigh*, Very well, only because you have been somewhat understanding, what would you like me to tell your employer?"
You suppose it's not too much of a diversion. As long as the dead don't make a habit of it. You let the private investigator know you'll do as he asks. The man shrugs his shoulders.
'I suppose that's something. Alright, tell him, uh... give me a moment,' he says. 'Tell him he was right. Wodan Chemical is producing some kind of weapons - whatever's in these tanks gotta be proper illegal. Only I don't think it's that simple. It's bigger, global, maybe. Found a register with plant names and locations... well, that's as far as I got. Just let him know he's on the right track, right? And for the love of God, make sure the next guy knows what they're getting into.'
'Is that all?' 'Yeah... yeah, I guess it is,' the PI says. He digs out a notebook and scribbles down an address - soul matter, but you memorize it. He sighs. 'This is it, then? Wherever the hell I'm going...'
Fear flickers on his face for the first time. Still, he reaches forward to take your hand...
***
A screaming inferno surges up to meet you as you descend into
Hell. The pillar of black flame spins and ripples around your form. Madmens' whispers fill your ears, but you give them no heed. They make their usual demands, hungry and desperate; to submit, to surrender to the will of the Infernal Realm. To let go of the Guide's aura that protects you: you've seen this enough times not to care. The blasted marches of Hell spread out below you, a scarred landscape of fissures and rifts under an ashen sky. Red lightning spits out of the clouds in staccato rhythm, their bolts rendin and flaying the flesh of the damned hordes toiling below. The air is thick and corrupt, painful to breathe.
The PI remains in your grip for a moment more. He begins to wail, struggling - and lets go. His pale form solidifies in an instant, bowing to the laws of Hell. He screams out before his lungs are choked by ash and the flames consume him.
You stay looking down for a few moments longer. To be claimed by the Infernals... he's set for an eternity of pain and work, subject to the arbitrary punishments of his demonic masters. The traitors and murderers do not get even that; their souls and bodies are twisted, moulded into new shapes and turned into mindless creatures of war - Hellspawn. Some of your kind would prefer dissolving damned souls in the Stream rather than carrying them to this mutilation, even though it would go against the first rule.
Persuaded Soul: +5XP
Soul Guided: +5XP***
You return to the PI's world. It is not a familiar place - the address only helps so much. The city in the distance is a mass of streets and buildings, as strange to you as any other world. There might be a faster way to find the apartment than to methodically go through each street, if one occurs to you - though that will get you the right place too, eventually. You should also consider how to approach the employer and how to leave the message.
>?