Darker Darks.

[*Rainbow Prism]

The smudged rag of SIGIS was a momentary read for one namer, but then one article caught her attention.
Another case involving the inevitable.
What were the chances of it being one and the same type that followed the villainous Time Thief?

Raila ignored one flirty Cipher Factor's invitation to partake into body cleansing, going out of Gymnasium and into the Hive, to darker and gloomier building.

[*Midnight]

Ralia would see the nature of the streets change, slowly at first. The odd cracked cobble stone the occasional patch of razorvine and the signs of decay and disrepair grow more frequent as the clerks ward gives away to the hive. It is not long before she arrives in the dead district, animated corpses shuffling down the streets they once lived in and ragged collectors sitting on carts filled with bodies. Over it all loos the dome shaped Mortuary casting long dark shadows.

[*Rainbow Prism]

Air filled with smog, nauseous toxic vapors and stench of decay.

Streets of ash and dirt, filled with roaming brigands and chiv swinging lunatics. People of slums either wallowing in misery or taking it out on other, weaker denizens of Hive.

Passing by another crooked soot-covered house, tiefling sighed at reality of her home district.

As she had to use meaningful stare with touch to sword's pommel less and less, cutter knew that she was close. Soon, she was at the doors of Mortuary.

Approaching the nearby Dustie in courtyard, Raila inquired about Factor Emila's whereabouts.

[*Selebius]

The man looks at her, crosses his arms as he sizes her up- obviously not happy about having to talk to a superior because of some Hiver feeling cocky.

"You want to see the factor? On what business? She is busy woman after all. If it is about a funeral see Initiate Deslander. He handles this business now."

[*Rainbow Prism]

"I am Raila of Ciphers." Mercenary crossed her arms, a bit more successful in looking intimidating, tall gaunt figure with sizable even for greatsword blade on her back having experience in ending battles before they even begin.
"Your Factor wanted information. And I have it."
Purple eyes squinted at the hooded man.

[*Selebius]

"Information, huh?" He is about to turn her away- that much is clear but then he remembers something and turns around quickly.

"Wait here. I will try to find the Factor."

And with this he leaves, hurrying deeper into the Mortuary's dark halls, leaving the woman with just a few zombies and skeletons to keep her company.

[*Selebius]

A few minutes afterwards a Wight approaches the waiting woman.

"Please follow me. The Factor will see you now."

[*Rainbow Prism]

Stoically, tiefling stood at the entrance, waiting for the bureaucracy to do it's work.

The place was very familiar to the basher. It was not the first time she was visiting the place. With grievous wounds, especially in lawless slums, it was hard to afford healing. Many times she narrowly escaped death, managing to get few stitches and scars instead of becoming worm food.
Or one of these undying tools, in company of which she was left.

Soon, a sentient cadaver was here to lead her in. Intending to be done with this, warrior followed to meet the Factor.

[*Selebius]

She is lead down endless stairs, past some high, guarded doors then a zone of utter darkness not even her eyes can pierce.

When she can see again they wait at an reinforced door- wood and iron, symbols of warding carved into the wood.

"She is awaiting you." With this the creature opens the door, letting the woman enter the next room- inside it a woman dressed in bloodsoaked dress., talking to a towering undead creature, the lifeless husk of a small tiefling leaning against a sacophagus.

[*Midnight]

If Raila was expecting something grand from a Factor she would be disappointed. Emila stands of middling height, and at the moment her red hair is disheveled the dress she wears which might once have been rather fine and expensive is torn almost to rags, and nearly all of her visible flesh seems to be covered in dried blood. She stands before a tall undead humanoid which seems to have the likeness of a tiefling stuck to a pouch in its chest. Emila turns and gives the the mercenary woman a slightly lopsided smile as if this is perfectly normal.

"Hello you are here about the Quarurts?"