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 // allusions to suicide // mutilation

Content warnings can also be found in the episode description. So, sit back, and enjoy. We hope you are ever so hungry.

Jess:
The life of a Sin Eater is rarely a pleasant one. Each meal they take, each sin they swallow, brings them face to face with the darkest corners of the human heart. In our journey, we may encounter echoes of real world pain, suffering, and sorrow. As always, a full list of the topics, themes, and subject matter can be found in this episode's description. If at any moment, this journey becomes overwhelming for you, our listener, or indeed, for either of us, we can pause, step away, and return when ready. Remember, the meal we prepare here will wait, patient and unspoiled, until we find ourselves ready to return.

[match strike, then blown out]

When we last left off, Caradog of Barley and Bile had completed a seventh and final sin eating ritual at the Evagrius manor, having bid the inhabitants of the household one by one into the afterlife. Some absolved, some condemned, and some, perhaps, doomed. Since then, many dawns and many dusks have passed. And, on a night touched gently by the hesitant fingers of frost that herald early autumn, the great warded city of Shura stirs beneath a sky scattered with faint light from unknown sources, and thin veils of clouds drifting softly. Lanterns flicker dimly in windows, casting soft amber shadows onto streets still wet from downpours only having just ceased. In the quiet maze of alleys known as the Lanes, the city draws to sleep uneasily. Crumbling stone buildings lean close, their walls whispering forgotten stories, secrets, and sins, to those who pause to listen. Silence reigns here, interrupted occasionally by distant murmurs of late night travelers, or the creak of wood shifting beneath the wind. These streets are a tapestry of hardship, and forgotten or abandoned dreams. Places where hope withers, but can still survive stubbornly.

It is in this silence that a young boy named Gruffold steps carefully, his small frame wrapped tightly against the lingering cold. His eyes, wide and cautious, flick towards the shadows, each whispered movement that just might be a threat. Yet, despite the dangers of the night, he moves with a determined purpose, as though pulled by a thread unseen. He pauses. Uncertainty flickers across his face, when from the darkness emerges something. A ghost white shape. A cat, named Eidolon. Silent and spectral. She pads softly forward, stopping just short of Gruffold's feet. Eidolon's pale, luminous eyes meet the boy's gaze, unblinking. And after a long silent moment, shared between the two creatures, the cat tilts its head and lets out a quiet, plaintive meow.

Jess:
Adam, would you be able to tell us what we would see if we were peering out a window at these two?

Adam:
I think… Gruffold is thin. It's hard to determine what his age is, because poverty has kept him from growing as he should, of a person of his age. Anywhere between thirteen and eighteen. He is skinny and short and wiry, and has that furtive look in his eyes of one who never truly feels safe. He's, he kneels down to Eidolon. Gives it little scritch on the top of her head. At this point, does Gruffold know Caradog's fate, or?

Jess:
No.

Adam:
Okay… So-

Jess:
Gruffold has not heard from Caradog in some time.

Adam:
I think Gruffold’s first immediate, emotional response, would be worry. Um… It is not often he has seen Eidolon far from Caradog's side. And so he bends down.

Adam (as Gruffold):
“Where... Where'd you come from, girl?”

Jess:
She makes a little chirp, and chuffs her fur along her back. She turns around. Her gaze lingering on you for just a moment, her head following her body at the last second, in the way that only cat spines can do. As she twists away, she begins to pad softly into the shadows, pausing just at the threshold of darkness, to turn and give you one last look. And final meow.

Adam (as Gruffold):
“Wait, no, uh…”

Adam:
And I think... Gruffold will follow. Or at least attempt to.

Jess:
Does Gruffold have a lot of experience, like... sort of... Let me ask that again. Does Gruffold spend most of his time in this part of town in one place, or does he explore and know this area of the city well?

Adam:
I think… I think before he met Caradog, he made… He survived the only way an orphan boy could in a place like the Lanes. And as a, as an apprentice sin eater, he is very aware of his own sins. But, one of the benefits of that early childhood was he did learn the Lanes, because if you didn't know the Lanes, you got caught, and if you got caught, you hung.

Jess:
So, you know this area well, and in fact, several of your peers, some among them, those you may have counted as friends, have met their fate over the years. You've seen death. You've lived your life in this place, so close to death all the time. And, your knowledge of these alleys and streets, means you are able to easily keep pace with the lithe Eidolon as she moves through the city. She leads you with a silent, insistent urgency, winding through the streets, pausing occasionally, glancing back as if to ensure that you follow close behind. Together you traverse this city, and while the Lanes are desolate, and to some depressing, you find yourself in increasingly desolate parts of the city, areas that you might not even have visited yourself. Deep in the heart of the old city, leaving behind the familiar comforts, if you can call them that, of where you grew up, and venturing into places where the buildings crumble and the echoes of lives long past whisper quietly in the dark. How would Gruffold feel moving through the city?

Adam:
I think as soon as he leaves the Lanes, his sense of danger increases. The Lanes are dangerous, there is no argument there, but they are a danger that he has lived with his whole life. There is a danger- There is a… There is a safety to a danger that you expect, but moving outside the boundaries of the Lanes, I think Gruffold's hackles rise, because he's now in a place where he doesn't know what the dangers are. He knows that he is in danger, but he doesn't know what to look out for.

Jess:
Hmm.

Adam:
So he keeps to the shadows. He stays low. He moves in short bursts, desperate to stay out of sight.

Jess:
As you flit from dark corner to dark corner, Eidolon notices this and she sees in you… A kinship, that you, too, are perhaps a predator, somehow trapped in the soul of a prey animal. Someone who finds themselves without the means to exercise what they're capable of. After some time, the two of you arrive at a dangerously collapsing building. The archway of the door is still intact, but you see this once great stone… Almost, monastery, or cathedral of some sort, has a wing off to one side that is caved in, and clearly large chunks of stone missing from some areas. Eidolon leads you to that doorway. Enormous arched stone doorway, with a jet black keystone at the top. She pauses once more, and disappears into the darkness inside. It offers you a silent invitation, or perhaps a challenge, to enter and face whatever waits within. How does Gruffold react?

Adam:
I think part of Gruffold knows why he's here, and doesn't want to be. There was always an unspoken certainty to Gruffold's fate of taking over for Cardog, but like all of us in our youths, we hope that that time does not come quickly. So, already brimming with barely contained emotion, Gruffold steps inward hoping to not see what he is certain he will see.

Jess:
As you cross the threshold, in that moment where anything can happen and possibility has not yet resolved, collapsed, into the truth of what is. You are in a bubble of possibility, but, your senses quickly inform you that your fears are founded. You can smell a faint rot in the air. A smell that you have had the misfortune of experiencing more times than you would like. It is death. Eidolon has disappeared fully into the darkness, but as you make your way along the walls, as your eyes adjust to the meager light that makes it through cracks and holes in the stonework, you can see that you are inside some sort of cathedral. You can feel that this is a holy place, or was at one point. Where would your eyes be drawn, as they adjust to this darkness?

Adam:
I think Gruffold wants to look up. Take a time, take some time to admire the beams and intricate architecture, but he can't do that. He can't look up, because that would be neglecting his duty. He looks to the floor. Seeking any shapes, any outlines in the shadows that don't quite fit.

Jess:
As you continue to move through the space, your eyes cast downward, you notice the tilework. It is… It once was a beautiful mural. You can tell the stone was made with expensive materials, vibrant colours, now long faded. And while you cannot make out precisely what it depicts, you notice bones. Cloaks. Gold. How much experience has Gruffled had with the world of soul tenders?

Adam:
I think he's watched the ritual once from afar with Caradog. Um… Almost a piece of tutelage to show what the other side does. So not very. In passing, at best.

Jess:
Well, given that, what Gruffold would notice is that the figures depicted on these large stone tiles that are still intact wear clothes, cloaks, that bear a striking resemblance to the cloaks worn by the soul tenders during the rituals. You reach a second doorway, this one with no door, and it leads into a larger room, perhaps a chapel of some sort. You smell dust and that faint scent of decay in the air. As you stand at the threshold, hear from deep within, that meow of Eidolon.

Adam:
I head deeper.

Jess:
As you move deeper into this room, you notice the light is just a little bit stronger in here. There are several holes in the ceiling, with what little light is outside bleeding in. And as you arrive at the three stairs that lead up to a higher level near the back, you notice an altar. Old candles melted down to stubs sit upon it. The scent of damp wood, old wax, and ash. It's been defaced so long ago, that the destruction is indistinguishable from the original intent. And, as you examine it, you notice something behind. Peering around, you see Caradog's body. Sitting, or more accurately, propped up.

Adam (as Gruffold):
“Oh, Caradog…”

Adam:
I kneel. I take Carodog's hand. Is there any warmth left?

Jess:
There is none. They've been dead for some time.

Adam:
I allow myself to shed some tears. With a shuddering sigh, I prepare myself to do what needs to be done.

Jess:
You reach into your bag and withdraw a candle, not yet used. This is the candle that you have been saving for an occasion just such as this. As you withdraw it from your bag, you notice, tucked into the clutching hand of the corpse in front of you, is their journal.

Adam:
I pick up the journal. I know it is intended for me, but I want to ensure the sanctity of Caradog's soul first. They have waited long enough.

Jess:
As you take the journal, you feel the worn leather, and the inscription carved heavily into the front that says, ‘For the Boy’. You tuck it away for the moment. Now, place your unlit candle on a surface. Knock three times around it, and light the candle. You knock once above, for the future you hope comes to pass. To the left, for what was. And to the right, for what is. With all the agency of an automaton, you begin the ritual. Now, has Gruffold ever been with Caradog for an entire ritual?

Adam:
I think Caradog has led Gruffold through mock rituals.

Jess:
Hmm.

Adam:
But,

Jess:
But never the real thing.

Adam:
I think there was something that Caradog instilled in Gruffold, that it was important to not have too many cooks in the kitchen, when tending to such tender ingredients, as a soul.

Jess:
So, all of your knowledge of how to perform this ritual comes from these… Little stage plays that the two of you conducted. These pretenses of this work. How does Gruffold feel as he begins this first step out on his own?

Adam:
I had allowed myself to feel what I would feel about this in the immediacy of its discovery. But the lanes do an excellent job of cauterizing those parts of you. So, I am able to tamp them down, dry my tears, and begin the much needed ritual. Free of any distracting emotions.

Jess:
Now, Gruffold would know that to complete this ritual, he will require items, intrinsic and extrinsic. You must find the items extrinsic in this space, but the items intrinsic… You bring, from your world, into this one. Do you know what those are?

Adam:
I have two items, intrinsic. And, I think, the advantage of full knowledge of who I am tending to. I have a dried out finger, that was taken from the hand of a thief, after his hand had been removed. And though I'm not certain…. I occasionally hear it tapping when I sing. I also carry with me, a coin, stolen from an undeserving man, a symbol of my greatest folly. As for the items extrinsic, I set to work. For I know what must be made here, I know what must be found. For, I have known Caradog for a long time. I search around for a small lump of wood, and pull out my pen knife. And very crudely, very quickly, I carve an ocarina, which I place in the pit of Caradog's belly, having laid them down. I then, looking through this church, find a little length of rope or string, and I weave it into a hangman's noose, a fate which Caradog's tutelage saved me from. And I place this symbol of penitence across Caradog's knee. Finally, I lift Caradog's hand, and I poise their hand gently at their lips. For what utensil does a sin eater use most to consume, but their own hands?

Jess:
Incredible. You look at this tableau before you. The simulacrum of an ocarina carved from wood. This hangman's noose of string. And the hand that fed the sins to the one who consumed them. As you look upon the tableau, you begin to take in a little bit more of the room around you. You notice an odd smell in the air, beyond that early rot of death. It too smells like a rot of some kind, but you cannot quite put your finger on what it is. You see scratches on the walls that look a little more fresh. Spilled ink. Burned candles that have fallen, yet not alighted anything around them. And again, that faint, fungal stench in the air. As you move a little closer, you would also notice something in Caradog's other hand.

Adam:
I cautiously investigate.

Jess:
As you unwrap the fingers of their other hand, you find yourself holding an old, makeshift pocket knife. A blade placed in a piece of soft wood. The wood of the blade looks familiar to you. It smells familiar to you. You recognize that this wood is the same type of old material from which the tree bark that Caradog carried about them, was excised. And on the side of the blade, you see those same initials, C.M. and A.R., carved into the handle.

Adam:
I take the blade, and for a moment, I think of ways to incorporate it into this ritual. But a warning Caradog once said, runs through my mind, once… Once the items are placed, the ritual has already begun. There is danger in interrupting the natural order of things. And so I shut the blade. And I take one last gift from my tutor.

Jess:
As, for the moment, you pocket this blade, you return your sights to the task at hand. The tableau in front of you, and the ritual ahead. Now, I would ask you to dim the lights, but as they continue to dim themselves, it simply remains for you to speak thrice aloud the sins before you.

Adam:
I look at my former master, knowing full well what their great sins were.

Adam (as Gruffold):
“Wrath. Parasociality. And banality.”

Jess:
And with that, you begin. Do you light the candle?

Adam:
I do.

Jess:
As the flame flickers into being, you can see little more of the interior of this space, and casting your eyes around you, you see another mural painted on the wall, and at the now dark window, shattered in segments between pieces of metal, you can tell there was once stained glass that continued the story. And you realize you are in the old, forgotten temple of the previous generation of soul tenders. Now, you are a fledgling sin eater. But to eat sin, you must prepare a meal. What recipe will you choose? And how will you acquire what is needed?

Adam:
It is the custom to eat a meal provided to you by the family of the dead. And Carodog was always very… Was always very careful to leave with… To leave me with a scrap of bread, just to ensure that I always had something to use in the event of their death. They also gave me a very small vial of olive oil. A rare luxury in our lives of poverty. And though tempted many times, I have never uncorked that bottle. But now I do. I take out the scrap of bread, which is… Dry and hard. A flat biscuit that sailors would use. Not quick to go bad, but, not so pleasant to eat either. I place down the hard tack bread before me. And I uncork the bottle of olive oil. A simple meal, for a sin eater. But it should suffice.

Jess:
As the… As the sweet scent of the olive oil reaches your nose and you inhale… You find yourself wondering what Caradog's first meal was, the first time they found themselves in such a situation. Sitting in front of a corpse, like this. Whether, it too was simply bread and oil. Whether they cared for, or even knew, the person who lay before them. As you sit in this old cathedral, Caradog's body lying before you, the items extrinsic laid upon it, how do you lay your items intrinsic before you?

Adam:
I place the finger on the wooden lectern, for should the finger choose to tap, it'll have the best acoustics. And the coin… The coin I spin on the hard floor, and it spins until this ritual is complete, almost under a power of its own.

Jess:
As it spins it emits a faint ringing sound. An eerie tone. It feels both high and low at the same time. And, as your ears focus on that strange ethereal pitch, you can hear a soft, but reverberant tap, tap, tap, from the lectern. You know that Caradog frequently found themselves compelled by music, by song, while performing these rituals. Do you share this predilection?

Adam:
I think hearing this tone from the coin, I match it with a harmonizing hum [long meditative hum]. And then, almost unbidden, a song springs to my lips. And I know deep down, it is a song I've been writing for some time.

Adam (as Gruffold): [sung]
“Mmm, hear my voice cut through the fog, take a seat and stay awhile, I'll tell the tale of Caradog, burdened by barley and bile. Took upon sins not theirs, traded for a scrap to eat, ‘till those sins, too much to bear, brought the eater to their knees. Not much a tale, sad and short, for Caradog is gone too soon, so heed the warning, food for thought, lest you share this fate, too. Draw the shades, cut the wick, the night is past the hour long. For when I die, I pray it's quick, and someone sits to sing my song.”

Jess:
As you sing, your voice echoes, reverberant, in this cavernous space. Wet with the echoes of all the souls that have passed through here. And, as your song comes to a close, you feel that you can almost see the echo of what this place once looked like. Bright, glowing with light, colourful, pouring through the windows. And, despite its purpose, full of life, full of hope. Grief that bids farewell to something, to allow room to welcome in something new. The vision fades, for the moment. And you once again see yourself for where you are. You know what must be done next. You know that the next step of this ritual is to use the Baker's Coin and the Butcher's Coin to determine whether these humours will be balanced or imbalanced. But, you have not these coins.

Adam:
I… As the spinning of my stolen coin continues, I snap closed my thumb and forefinger, catching it mid-spin.

Jess:
It almost seems to freeze between your fingers before they come in contact with the coin.

Adam:
I place it, and press it hard into my left hand, nearly hard enough to break skin and draw blood. The left hand will have to be the Baker's Coin. And I shall press it, and palm it once more in my right hand once it's time to use the Butcher's Coin. And I will hope beyond hope that this does not affect the ritual.

Jess:
As you improvise through the pieces of this world that you do not yet have experience with, you already feel a little bit of that self-doubt creeping in. Feeling this coin in your hand, and the bruise already forming where you pressed it into your left hand, you ready it, but first, you must choose. Will you absolve Caradog of their sins? Or will you condemn?

Adam:
Caradog had their sins. As we all do. But Caradog also suffered for others. And in that, deserves absolution.

Jess:
You have chosen to absolve Caradog of their sins. And so… You have not the two coins, but rather one to play the role of both. Fitting. Taking what is now the Baker's Coin in your hand, you ready yet. And you may flip the coin.

[coin flip]

Adam:
It’s tails.

Jess:
Tails. That is yellow bile.

[coin flip]

Adam:
It’s tails again.

Jess:
It is also tails. Once more, yellow bile.

Adam:
I think my hand shakes at this initial failure, but there is hope to save some portion of this ritual. I will press even harder, my nail cutting the skin a little bit into my right hand. Some blood for the Butcher's Coin.

Jess:
You feel the coin, warm, grow hot in your hand. And as you touch the blood on it, it almost seems that the coin itself has turned a crimson red, metallic material, that you do not recognize. When you're ready, may flip the Butcher's Coin.

[coin flip]

Adam:
Tails.

Jess:
Tails wants more blood.

[coin flip]

Adam:
Heads. [chuckles]

Jess:
Ugh, and heads, phlegm. The Butcher's Coin is balanced. The Baker's Coin, imbalanced. They are not in harmony. Twice, yellow bile. This is acidic, bitter. A thirst for influence that cannot be sated. It's fitting that for someone who longed to be more than they were, the Baker's Coin finds itself out of balance in this way. How does Gruffold react?

Adam:
I think self-recrimination flashes through my mind. Not only have I failed, though not disastrously so, my first ritual, but I failed the ritual for the person, the one person that meant so much to me, the one person in my life that I could call family. So, this is hard. It's devastating. But I know that if I stop now, if I falter, it'll only make things worse, so I have to clean up the mess that I have made as best as I can.

Jess:
As you sit in this, not utter overwhelming failure, but certainly not a success, you feel your vision shift and deepen. Vivid and unsettling. The light begins to change around you. The shrine appears differently. You see Caradog, alive, sitting beneath flickering candlelight. Hunched over a wooden bowl, they spoon something into their mouth. You find your body, as if in a dream, accelerating closer. And you see that it is barley porridge. Cold and congealed, but speckled with a dark mold. Something strange, something fungal. A soft glow casts long shadows, and the peeling murals on the wall writhe in grotesque shapes across the cracked stone walls. Caradog's hands tremble. Time has shifted. It is later, perhaps many days later. Caradog looks hungry, confused. Their hands tremble, eyes wide and bloodshot, their face pale and slicked with sweat. The days and nights move forward. The room darkens again. Shadows rise, solidifying into twisted humanoid forms, faces distorted in silent screams, pressing against the fabric of reality. The souls whose sins Caradog consumed, for better or worse, reaching towards their hunched figure. As Caradog writhes and twists, confused, convulsing, you see a figure appear in the doorway. Expression unreadable, face unclear. Shifting, melting. Perhaps anguish or guilt flickering in their eyes. And you notice a small blade clenched tightly in their hand. Those initials glinting briefly, C.M. and A.R., and you do not know, at the same time, you understand, that whoever A.R. was, this is them. And perhaps you are simply seeing a vision, a hallucination that also greeted Caradog in their final days. You could be seeing something real. The figure steps forward hesitantly, knife in hand, and it is unclear if they want to intervene. To reach down and help the convulsing, shaking sin eater at their feet, or whether they wish to end the pain and misery in a single fell swoop. The figure pauses, eyes downcast, and then, leaving the knife on the floor, and then leaving the blade at their feet, they slip silently back into darkness, only faint footprints remaining. Caradog gasps sharply, clutching at their throat, clawing frantically at unseen horrors. Their eyes dark with visions, with fear. They fall forward onto the cold stone floor, ink pooling from the well beside their spilled journal, mixing with the porridge and ash. You have seen these symptoms before. You know what this is. This is St. Anthony's Fire. Ergot poisoning. A fungal infection known to blight grain, that causes convulsions, hallucinations, visions, and to many, death. Your vision shifts once more. You fear something new is upon you, but then it fades. You feel slowly pulled back to the surface of your consciousness by Eidolon's quiet, insistent meow. And you notice her there again, sitting at Caradog's feet. You find yourself back in the present, leaving only echoes and questions, and that faint smell of ergot in the air.

Adam:
For a brief moment, I succumb to fear, for what have I seen but my own fate? The fate of every sin eater is to die with their gullet filled with writhing sins. And then I compose myself. There's a task to be done. And I will do it. Come what may. I think back to all of those hungry nights. I think back to all of those times where I would have starved had Caradog not taken me in. And so I split this hardtack bread in two, and I dab both sides with a generous portion of oil. And in the hand and in the hand from which I took the knife, I place one half. A meal shared, like so many before it. And like those meals, simple and austere, I sit cross-legged on the hard stone floor, and I eat this small scrap of hard bread softened only slightly by oil. In an almost mock ritual of the many meals that Cara Dogg and I had shared through the years.

Jess:
As you take bite after bite of this bread, pondering the vision you saw, the life you've lived so far, and the life you've yet to live. You hear that ringing sound again. You notice that somehow, back on the stone floor, the coin is spinning.

Adam:
I know what comes next, and I know that the fear that I should have brought with me, I am short. I will gently close the eyes. I will gently close the eyes of Caradog of Barley and Bile. And having only one coin, I will pick the spinning coin up and place it gently in the center of their forehead. A hopeful remittance.

Jess:
As you look at the body of your former master, the coin sitting on their forehead, still that strange metallic crimson colour, you know, that Gruffold, while you have failed to fully absolve Caradog of their sins, you have succeeded at picking up the mantle. You know that in this ritual you are forged as a sin eater. Your work is done. End the ritual. Unring the bell. Close the door and salt the threshold. But 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.

Adam:
I look down.

Adam (as Gruffold):
“Hungry. Haggard. Haunted.”

Jess:
[hard exhale, then sighs] Now, you know there is but one more task ahead of you. You must take out the trash. How shall the body of Caradog of Barley and Bile be handled?

Adam:
I look at the body, and it's in this strange repose that I have placed it for this ritual. I look around at the images of soul tenders. This thing that we are not quite. Sin eaters, like the shadows of soul tenders, flat and shallow. I know not if Caradog had a secret desire to be a soul tender, or if they were satisfied with their lot as a sin eater, but it feels right to me that they are left here, in this place where soul tending once was performed. Surrounded by images of a profession they didn't quite perform. The body has been here for sometime, I would say. And yet, in this place it remained undisturbed until I arrived. So, I will click my tongue to Eidolon, calling, signaling it is time to leave. And with a heavy heart, leaving the body of Caradog where it lies, I will begin to make my way out and back towards the Lanes. And as I make my way through the crumbling stone of the building, flickering candle in hand, as I reach the threshold of the cathedral just before I leave… I will blow it out. With one final glance backwards, towards where I know the body lies, but can no longer see due to the shadows. And I will cross the threshold and leave.

Jess:
Gruffold steps back into the cool embrace of night, leaving behind the quiet emptiness of this forgotten cathedral. And guided only by Eidolon's quiet steps, and his own vivid memory of the shape of the city, he retraces his way through the winding alleys and hidden passages of the Lanes, the city around him, slowly breathing to life, for it is now the early hours of the morning. Distant whispers, the flickering of dim lanterns, and shadows shifting behind shuttered windows. As you walk back in the direction of home, do you open the journal?

Adam:
I make it as far as the gate that surrounds the cathedral, before remembering something. I open the journal and I turn to the very last page. I quickly scrawl, ‘For the dead’, and I tear it free, and I throw it up in the air and let the wind catch it.

Jess:
The page lifts, caught in a thermal, flying upwards, fluttering into the heavens. Sailing beyond the walls and the wards of the city. It stays aloft with an energy, a power, driven by the souls that flit about underneath, that have moved beyond, that wander the city, and that wander the lands beyond the walls. The souls of the satisfied, the souls of the condemned. Of the gluttonous, the lustful. The envious, the greedy, the prideful, and the wrathful. Those lazy with sloth, and every other form of every sin that ever existed. That journal page dances higher and higher and higher, until it cannot be seen. The words of Gruffold, written on one side, and on the other side of that final page, a final entry from Caradog, that Gruffold's eyes never lay upon. And only the souls that float highest, that can reach that page that still drifts through the stratosphere, can make out the words, written… Written by someone on the stoop of death. But who had spent their entire life close to it. And they read, ‘I was nothing. I was never the hero of these stories. I was never even the villain. I was, I am, only the vessel. Let me now be emptied.’

Far below, Gruffold walks quietly towards home, Eidolon at his side, under a sky unchanged by those stories lived and lost beneath it. Thank you for joining us on this journey tonight.

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 the brilliantly talented 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.