BlackwaterDnD

Adam:
Welcome to BlackwaterDnD, where good friends tell better stories. This series, Sin Eater: Absolution is a miniseries using the Sin Eater system created by Anica Cihla. The Kickstarter for Sin Eater will be available on May 26th, 2025. Much of what you hear Adam say around the ritual of sin eating is read directly from the sourcebook. This series is proudly sponsored by Hero Forge & Hunter’s Entertainment. For this story, the Sin Eater will be played by the wonderfully talented Jess Lupini, and I, Adam Lucas, will be acting as her journal.

Content warnings include: themes of death // desecration of a corpse // gore // misophonia // religious undertones // mentions of blood // complex family dynamics // depictions of mental illness // depictions of vomiting // depictions of disease // disordered eating // class inequality // depictions of spirits & the undead // mutilation

The life of a Sin Eater is not always a pleasant one. Regularly confronted as they are with what crawls from the deepest pits of the human soul, each episode may take us to a place that mirrors real world sources of pain and trauma. A list of the topics, themes, and subject matter featured has been included in the episode description. It is important to know that if at any point it becomes too much for you, our listener, and for both of us, Jess and myself, we can take a break - that is an important part of this. Recognizing when we need to step away. After all, the meal that we will prepare here will not spoil until we are ready to return.

Episode II: Lust

Adam:
Welcome to episode two of Sin Eater: Absolution. Last we had left off, Caradog of Barely and Bile, an orphan of a recent plague, had attended to Laute Evagrius, whose sin was gluttony. Caradog had successfully absolved Laute of his sins through a ritual that some might describe as macabre. Once more, they find themselves climbing the path back to the Evagrius manor. The Evagrius manor looms on the central hill, its silhouette etched against the bruised sky of dusk. It is a familiar sight now, though no less foreboding. You tread the snow-laden path that winds toward the back of the grand estate, each step stirring memories of the last time you stood here. Then it had been Laute Evagrius who were required your aid. His gluttony in life providing but a meager meal for you. Nonetheless, you had guided him to peace. Yet even then, the house seemed to exhale with resignation rather than relief. The chill in the air tonight feels heavier, more deliberate, a silent acknowledgement of your return. You knew when the call came that another member of the Evagrius family had passed, and with them the inevitable turmoil of a soul whose sins you must now eat. This place, this family, demands one last ritual of the dead before allowing the souls to relinquish their stories to the silence of the grave. You sense that it's not simply grief that haunts these halls, but a deeper, older wound. One that festers. One crafted from the very secrets that necessitate your employment. As you approach the manor, the weight of that knowledge presses against you. The house is not done with you yet. And that thought sends a shiver of sickening exhilaration through your whole being. You slip through the same seldom used wrought iron gate, the hinges groaning like a whispered warning. A tall, narrow window draws your eye once more. That same creeping ivy framing it like a tableau. The figure, like a shadowed sentinel, stands watching as you make your way toward the manor, the chill of their gaze colder than that of this winter night. You reach the discreet servant's door, the same one you entered before, and pull the cord. The solemn, resonant tone of the knell rings out once more, confirming your arrival. This bell, meant only for those who attend the dead, seems heavier tonight. Each ring taking an effort that surprises you. The door opens after a moment, revealing the same frail servant who had guided you before. His skin, still impossibly thin and parchment-like, barely moves as he nods in recognition. No words pass between you, as he gestures you to follow. Those same hidden passages twist and turn, their familiarity unsettling rather than comforting. You can't help but wonder if the walls themselves remember your presence. Finally, you arrive at a door that looks no different from any other, yet carries the same weight of significance as before. The servant's skeletal hand motions for you to enter alone, just as he had the last time. His eyes meet yours for the briefest of moments, before he retreats into the shadows. The memory of Laute and his meager meal flickers in your mind as you place your hand on the carved handle. Who, you wonder, awaits you now, in this house that refuses to trust the secrets of its dead to any but you? Caradog, how do you enter?

Jess:
Before I do, I turn and look over my shoulder, and I say, first quietly,

Jess (as Caradog):
“Are you still there?”

Adam:
You look around. I'm assuming you are looking for the servant that led you in?

Jess:
Yeah.

Adam:
It's almost like he never was. How silent this hall is.

Jess:
I look down at Eidolon, who’s moving between my legs, looking at shadows, dancing around in what little light there is and… I turn to the door, I grab a hold of it, take the handle in my hand, I turn, and as before, I let the white cat in ahead of me.

Adam:
Before you lies the body of Francesca Evagrius, washed and prepared. Her pallid form, seeming almost fluid under the shifting shadows cast by the flickering candles that have already been lit. The air is stale and cold, and with only a hint of the chemicals used to preserve the dead. From that faint lack of aroma, you realize that Francesca was prepared elsewhere, and moved here after the fact. A small peculiarity that sparks but a moment of curiosity in this morbid setting. Every surface of this chamber feels alive with movement. The restless dance of light on the walls, the faint shimmer of the flame of the candles, the barely perceptible ripple of air stirred by your breath. And the body before you is unnervingly still amidst the living tableau, a stark contrast to the subtle persistent motion around it. It is as if the room itself conspires to remind you of the boundary that you must now cross. The tenuous line between what moves, and what has been stilled forever. Francesca Evagrius lays before you, the stillness of her presence heavy with the weight of her deeds. Yet, not all sins are worthy of absolution, and the choice lies entirely with you. Whether you guide her towards salvation or damn her soul to wander beyond the walls of Shura, the judgment will be yours alone to bear, and yours alone to know. After all, this is your burden to bear, and no one else's. The time has come. Prepare your altar, Sin Eater. Unroll your mat with care worn smooth by the countless rituals before. Lay out the coins. Set aside, for now, a silent reminder that the ferryman must always take their due. As you finish laying out your altar, I would like to know, who was Francesca to you? And to determine this, I would like you to roll me a d6 please.

[dice clattering]

Jess:
That’s a three.

Adam:
You have no strong feelings about them, which, in a place where everyone knows everyone, is unusual, in and of itself. But perhaps, not so strange, given the note that you find by Francesca's body. It is important for a Sin Eater to know the nature of the sin before administering to the body, lest they become lost in the quagmire of all the multitudes of sins that we commit through our days. Francesca's main sin, written on a paper before you, was lust, but not one of carnal desires, not one of flesh. But want freedom. Travel. Exploration. According to the Evagrius family, Francesca's greatest sin was wanderlust. A desire to roam free. You carry with you ritual implements. Items not of just mundane material, of the spirit, forged in the depths of the mind and bound tightly to the fabric of your soul. Have those changed since last you were here?

Jess:
No they have not. I still have that piece of tree bark with the initials, and the wrapped ocarina with the blood stained fabric.

Adam:
And I'm curious, the last time we were here, you administered to Laute, whose great sin was gluttony, not gluttony of excess, but gluttony of excessive quality. You had a… an opinion of this particular sin. You saw it as a sin that everyone treads. How does Caradog feel about Francesca's sin?

Jess:
Caradog takes out their little journal, and feels the lettering, again, carved into the front so many times. It says, ‘For the Boy’. And they open it up to a new page, and they write at the top, ‘Francesca’. Below that, they write, ‘I find myself once again succumbing to, perhaps fittingly, the least interesting of my own sins, banality. I care not for these unusual modern variants on the old standards. I miss the simple lust that I felt when last my feelings were strong. I find myself bored. To lust for this kind of freedom implies a disconnection from the things that really matter. And a privilege that I never begun to come close to.’

Adam:
As you think this, you cast your eyes across the room. For just as you did last time, you must also find items extrinsic found in the home, sutured to the flesh, on the body before you. Components from your surroundings. I would like you to choose at least three from the list.

Jess:
As I stare at the body, trying to figure out where to begin, I find myself... Could it be, doodling, in my journal? I've looked down to see that I've drawn a impression of that little relic of travel that I found when consuming Laute’s sins. It came to me, perhaps obviously, due to the travel-related nature of Francesca's… Choices. And I begin to look around for anything else that may be from similar travels within this room.

Adam:
You look around, and there are small details that let you know that this is not the same room as you were in before with Laute. Tiny things, almost imperceptible, but you have been in many rooms like this before, so your eyes train to notice those differences. You find a small statuette, similar to the one that you found with Laute. But, the one with Laute was simpler, but a finer material. This, intricately carved, but of fairly passe material. This statuette is of a figure, many arms, almost, when you stare at it for too long, almost uncountable. As your eyes kind of fade with the stare, kind of loosen, this figure… Captures your mind, for a moment. Whispers to you of places far beyond your can.

Jess:
I examine the statuette for a moment and then move towards Francesca's feet, where I would normally place a relic of travel. But, I hesitate. Wanderlust as a sin, is not of the feet. The feet obey the mind, and so I move to her head. I place it on her forehead.

Adam:
As you place a relic of travel, set at the crown like a sign of divinity. The flickering light of the candles around Francesca's head, grow still. Perfect circle of unmoving light. A halo.

Jess:
I look to the walls where there are various adornments, some pieces of art, likely local, likely family heirlooms, but I see on one side of the room, a map. And I would like to take that map off of the wall. Carefully, I fold a piece of the sea, where some strange sea monster has been drawn in some poorly charted part of the world. A kraken, or something of that ilk. And I… Extract this likeness from the map. I fold it up, as many times as I can, fold a small piece of old paper. I don't know what the value is of the map that I just destroyed, but… It doesn't matter. They won't care. I place this folded up little fragment of old parchment with this monster on it, a fragment of fear, right at the pit of the belly of Francesca.

Adam:
You set the folded paper. And for a moment you expect something. The growl of some hidden figure. The creaking of the house as it moves. But you are met with silence. Terribly boring silence.

Jess:
Lastly, I reach into my own bag where my items that I brought with me lie. I pull out of a small pocket, the piece of tree bark with the initials carved into it, and, I pull off a splinter from it. I carry it to Francesca, and I place it just in the divot of her throat between her collarbones, just resting there. A piece of my heart close to her chest. And I take out my journal one more time, and I write below the image that I drew of the previous statue that I found last time I was here. I say, ‘I feel compelled to share with you the moments where the sins of those I am here to absolve crossed my path. I do not respect the sin of wanderlust. I do not find it interesting. But there was a time where I experienced envy of the freedom it afforded somebody else. Someone who herein I shall continue to refer to only as A.R., is somebody who had a great deal more freedom than me, a great deal more prestige. They were a Soul Tender, and I envied the fact that they could travel as they wished, do what they wished. I don’t know why I'm writing this, but I hope you will absolve me of whatever within it requires absolution. And by hope, I mean I expect.’

Adam:
As you look up from your writing, though you place the splinter lightly, and it was but a small thing, you see two trickles of blood, perfectly symmetrical, running down the collarbone of Francesca. Like a necklace.

Jess:
I stare at the blood. This body, I know, was prepared some time ago. I'm surprised to see such wet blood… On a corpse like this.

Adam:
As you settle in, before you describe this tableau, there are two things that we must first discover. Are you trying to forgive the sin? Or are you trying to work towards damnation? If you could roll me a 1d6.

Jess:
Okay.

[dice clatter]

Jess:
That is a four.

Adam:
Even. You're preparing a meal to forgive. To take it upon your own head. You're eating to absolve… For a sin that so utterly bores you. Why?

Jess:
Because I don't know what's happening here. I write once more in my journal, ‘Gruffold, something is strange in this house, and most of the time when I do my damned work, it matters not whether I damn or absolve. The family do not know, as long as I have done my job, they care not what direction I've done it in. But I sense that my work is being watched and… Here's the disgusting little secret. I want to impress them. I want whoever's watching to think that I'm doing an incredible job. I want them… To see, to feel, how beautifully, how tenderly I consume the sins of this wealthy, perfect, beautiful family. For I wish to be invited back. I want room and board. I want to walk among them. I want to wear their clothes. I want to wear their lives. I want it all.’ I realize I've been holding my breath. [exhales] And I begin the ritual.

Adam:
Before you begin the ritual, what meal have you prepared?

Jess:
I kneel. Some might say piously, some might say with defiance. But before me lies a meal that I asked for, knowing this particular flavour of lust would be on the menu tonight. I've asked for… Figs. As fresh as possible. Something not grown anywhere nearby in these lands. Something that I've never had occasion to justify the cost of eating. I've also asked for tea, with the most exotic spices they have on hand, from the most distant locations. I smell the mug of tea before me, and aromas that I have never smelled before float through my sinuses. I won't even try and say what I think they are, because I do not know, I do not recognize them. They are new to me. And so before me I see this plate of figs, this mug of tea, these candles, whose flickers have become less frequent, more stable, creating that halo of light around Francesca's head. Also, the ocarina wrapped in a square of cloth, crusted with this blood. It has not seeped in some time, but I know that it will tonight. And I also lay out that piece of bark with those initials, A.R. and C.M. I need to do something before I begin. I go to Francesca, and I dip my finger into that fresh blood that's running down her chest. I take a little bit onto my finger and I return to the wrapped ocarina. I dare not unwrap it. I cannot bear to look upon it. It distresses me so… But I close my eyes. I reach my finger into the folds of the fabric. And, with that drop of blood from Francesca's chest, I gently touch one of the holes, one of the finger holes of the ocarina. Wiping that blood off, and withdrawing my hand, without ever looking inside.

Adam:
Dim the lights, speak thrice aloud the sins before you.

Jess:
To dim the lights I… Take a little drop with the same finger that had the blood on it, from the tea. I lift it up and I drop a little bit of the spiced tea into the wax circling the wick of each of the candles, to bring that flicker back just a bit. And the room is suddenly full of the exotic scents of the spices that were used in this tea. I speak out loud,

Jess (as Caradog):
“To follow your heart, to run from the hearts of others. To abandon that which you know, for that which excites you.”

Adam:
Now, like last time, you have a song that you sing while you prepare your meal. If there are any lyrics, are these in your native tongue, or a language long gone? Are you accompanied by the voices of the living, or the dead? Or is this now a solitary dirge?

Jess:
I begin by shuffling my knees on the floorboards. Sounds like footsteps, like walking, like a dirge. And once again… The whispering, whistling sound of strange, distant air floods through that ocarina, as it seeps a little bit of blood, but it also seeps a sound. A high pitched whistling. As I sing, once again, in a tongue that nobody around here has heard in a very long time. I don't even know if I understand the words myself.

Jess (as Caradog): [singing]
“The road unseen, the sky's so vast, the yearning deep, that never lasts. Horizon calls, you flee again, now you rest, so far, so free from sin.”

Adam:
You have described the ingredients for your meal, figs and an exotic tea, but do you prepare them in any way, or do you eat them as they have come?

Jess:
Beyond putting the spices from the tea into the candles, I do not prepare them. I eat the figs raw, as I would have off of the trees, had I passed them while traveling. But, I make sure that as delicious as they might be, I remind myself that if I just keep walking, there may be some new, tastier fruit tree that I encounter down the road, because this is at its core what wanderlust is. It's a dissatisfaction with what one has, and a feeling that the only way to arrive at something better is to move forward, never returning.

Adam:
The time has come, Caradog. The time is now to balance what is imbalanced. To find absolution for this soul. Please place two coins before you.

Jess:
Ready.

Adam:
I would like you to flip each coin twice. One is the Baker's Coin, one the Butcher's Coin. Note the harmony of the results.

Jess:
Okay, so I'll flip the baker's coin first. First one is tails. The second one is heads.

Adam:
Okay, black bile and yellow bile. The Baker's Coin is in balance.

Jess:
All right, let's see what the Butcher has for us. [chuckles] First is tails and the second is heads.

Adam:
Okay. Amazing. So once more, you have found balanced humours. You have one of each. You are good at what you do, Caradog. But, like every time you do this, each flip is accompanied by a vision. I will speak on phlegm first. As you flip the Butcher's Coin, and phlegm is shown, you see a vision that perfectly represents it. Aloofness. You see Francesca, free. Enjoying the freedom that you will never know. Moving through sights and sounds and smells, unlike anything you've experienced. There is unbridled joy on her face. And as the flip of the Butcher's Coin once more lands on blood, you see her enthusiasm, her openness. This feeds her, nourishes her soul, the source of energy for the body and soul. Her life's blood is travel. And then the Baker's Coin. Black bile. Coin lands. Melancholy. Depression. Those moments where she faced her family, and they prescribed to her a cure to her seen sin, ensuring that she could not wander, begging her to stay. Misery. You see a moment, stands out apart from the other visions, this one feels clearer. You see her arguing with a figure you cannot quite make out, but that you know. A figure that is familiar to you. One you have seen twice, though not clearly. The voice, masculine, argues that wandering too far can be dangerous. She responds in kind that life without danger, is no life at all. And the turning of the coin lands in your hand once more, showing yellow bile, and you feel a welling of relief, for you have balanced the humours. But with yellow bile, there is ambition, aggression, and you see her standing… Somewhere foreign. Somewhere far. Somewhere fearful. Before her sits an edifice, a figure carved with innumerable arms. The distance between her and this sculpture, impossibly close and incredibly far. You feel the weight of this image, like staring into the sun. And as you look upon this vision, it occurs to you. You know not how Francesca died. And as the weight of this vision bears down upon you, you have a choice. You can go deeper, or you can pull away.

Jess:
I think at this point, Eidolon would have sensed that I'm experiencing something new, something different, and she's likely vocalizing quietly to try and understand whether I'm alright, but I ignore it. I absentmindedly reach out a hand to push her away, and I go deeper.

Adam:
[Adam’s voice echoed by a deep, demonic voice] You watch as Francesca lifts up on her tiptoes, her head arching back, her eyes smouldering like embers, and you feel a similar heat in your own. Her skin tightens, her mouth opens but a scream cannot escape. No sound exists in this space. You feel your bones like glaciers, shifting and groaning. You feel something that you have felt in every room you have ever entered. Death. As you have chosen to delve deeper, you feel it pulling at you. Breathing down your neck, whispering in your ear, [demonic echo fades out] until a sharp pain in your hand pulls you, unbidden, from the vision. Drip. Drip. Thin drops of blood fall from your hand where Eidolon has bitten you, splashing on its white fur. Eidolon, in this moment has saved you, but the body before you has changed. Where once was a pristine, preserved body, is Francesca as she was when she died. Her eye sockets, ruined embers, ash and coal. Her skin thin and tight, desiccated. Her face contorted with the fear of things that should never be seen. Whatever Francesca stumbled upon, so far from home, was her undoing. [heartbeat thuds] And you have glimpsed upon it. You know it a little, now. There is a whisper. A name. The Promised King [demonic echo] [heartbeat fades].

For better or for worse, your meal is made. It is time to partake in the goodness of what you have created here, in the absolution of this soul that had suffered in silence for so long. How do you consume the meal? Does your manner of consumption relate to the sin? Does your consumption of it change based on the fact that you have succeeded?

Jess:
I think as I'd planned, I eat the figs raw, quickly, barely savouring them. More, experiencing that excitement of eating something new. I drink the tea too quickly. Which is alright, because it's cooled, so. If it were any earlier, I might have burned my throat.

Adam:
As you place the tea to your lips, it is ice cold.

Jess:
I take a few sips, and I put it back down. I push it towards Eidolon. I look at the wound on my hand. I get up and I walk over to the body. First I take the Baker's Coin, I place it on her left eye. I take the Butcher's Coin, I place it over her right eye. Those sockets burned out with the vision of something that no human being should see. And I don't understand, but I'd felt some of it. I look down to Eidolon, who, I imagine, has attempted to sip the tea, and she too has found it somewhat unpalatable. I pull out my journal. I turn the page. I write at the top of the page, ‘The Promised King’. And below that, I write, ‘So, little one, though you are not so little. I know you wish to leave the Lanes. I know you wish to wander amongst the greater city. Some might say you have a lust for it, in fact. But, I encourage you to remember that that which you are accustomed to becomes that which you would like to wander from. And what I have become accustomed to, is not something to be desired. In much the same way that I, a long time ago, looked at the life of A.R., and saw a freedom that I did not have, and you look to my life, and you see a freedom that you do not have, know that we are all, every one of us, imprisoned, in that which we are born into, and that which we achieve. You do not want this any more than I do, but you will have it. And I wish you well.’

Adam:
Your work is done. End the ritual, unring the bell, close the door, and salt the threshold. To sever the link you must speak thrice, a word for the person that was, a word for the body that is, and a word for the soul that will be.

Jess (as Caradog):
“Wanderer. Prisoner. Wanderer reborn.”

Adam:
As you say, wanderer reborn, you close your eyes for a moment and when they once more open, the tableau is as it was before you saw that harrowing vision. Coin set on closed eyes, unblemished skin. Like a bad dream, but something you know was very much real. It is now time to take out the trash. The handling of the remains is predicated on their most prominent sin. How is this corpse handled?

Jess:
I take a small vial of salt out from my bag and I put a pinch of it on the threshold of the door, as I open the door back to that dark hallway. I let Eidolon walk through the threshold into the hallway, as I once more say out loud,

Jess (as Caradog):
“Are you still there?”

Adam:
There is but an exhalation of a dry breath.

Jess (as Caradog):
“Listen, close. For I will give you instructions and I need you to follow them. I know I'm not your master, but… I believe our interests are aligned in this moment. Francesca must not remain in this home. On the first caravan, leaving town, her body must be placed. The driver must be told that when he reaches the end of his line, the body should be transferred to another caravan, traveling further still, and to pass along the same instructions. Ensure that whatever this costs is paid. Do you understand?”

Adam:
There is a movement in the darkness, that you feel is a nod of assent.

Jess (as Caradog):
“Why won't you speak to me?”

Adam:
You know it is forbidden.

Jess:
Doesn’t matter, I say it anyway.

Adam:
Once more, a dry exhalation of breath. Almost… Annoyed.

[deep exhalation]

Jess (as Caradog):
“I’ve gone above and beyond. Next time, if there is a next time, and I believe you and I both suspect, or should I say, know, there will be. I wish to stay. I know you cannot speak to me, but know this: something strange flows through these halls, something stranger still flows through the hallways of the memories of this family. I don't know what it is, but I am needed here. I am wanted here. And I should like to stay.”

Jess:
I close the door.

Adam:
As you close the door, what you don't see is the nod of agreement from the elderly figure in the dark. And once more you are left with that silence. That silence that speaks of the end, an end to wandering, an end to exploration. An end to dreams, and fears. It is for the living to listen, to fill that silence with their own unspoken questions. But the dead remain unmoved, locked either in a silence that neither answers, nor asks, or locked beyond the walls of the living. It is a silence that feels, as ever, like it could never be broken. And as you leave the Evagrius manor, you feel a chill. A chill unrelated to the cold of this winter night. A chill that runs to the core of your soul. The last time you left, you left with the hope that you would be back. This time you leave with the knowledge that you surely will be. And with that, our meal is done. Thank you for listening.

[Atone, Consume by Si Rutherford]

Adam:
Sin Eater: Absolution is performed by Jess Lupini and Adam Lucas. Special thanks to our campaign artist, Cenzi, who you can find as @cenzi03 on Instagram. Music and effects by Epidemic Sound and Si Rutherford. For more stories, come follow us everywhere at @blackwaterdnd, and make sure to check out our Main Campaign on Monday nights at 8pm PST at twitch.tv/blackwaterdnd. This show is made possible by our sponsors who support us and allow us to tell the stories we want to share. We are grateful to be sponsored by Hero Forge, who offer fully customizable miniatures made with their online 3D character creator! Head on over and design your own Sin Eater, and get them printed in a variety of materials, including colour printing options! With new content added each week, check out www.heroforge.com to start bringing your character to life! We would also like to thank our sponsor Hunter’s Entertainment. Hunter's Entertainment is a premier purveyor of tabletop RPGs and board games, providing amazing alternative systems for whatever setting or scenario you want to bring to the table. With titles like Kids on Bikes, Alice is Missing, God's of Metal: Ragnarok, and of course, Sin Eater, Hunter's brings beautifully written & designed books to dive into with your players. Check them out at huntersentertainment.com and sink your teeth into something new. Finally, we’re thankful for our Patrons for joining us on our first adventure within Shura. You too can come join us on Patreon, where you can check out behind the scenes info, our talkback show Chatwater, as well as exclusive Sin Eater bonus content and so much more. Head on over to patreon.com/blackwaterdnd for all the info. Thank you for listening, stay hungry and be safe.