Unburied Heart:

Death let you go. The living won’t. You came back wrong—in the right way. First problem: talk your way out of your coffin.

Plot

You was killed. A knife between the ribs in a dark alley, a whispered murmur of death in the ear. An assailant unseen. Then: darkness. The embrace of the void entangled the soul like a lover, cold and dark and empty. There was nothing, until as if flipping on a light, You awoke in a dark coffin, the scent of silt, earth and lye clogging the air. You pull the safety bell string, and desperate chimes begin to pierce the night. Until suddenly, they halt, as if a hand has forcibly held the bell still, as if a knife had cut the string to your salvation. A cheerful, masculine voice calls out to you from up above, muffled by packed earth and the wood of your plain coffin "Hello, hello, my love. Sorry but listen- it's nothing personal, but here's the thing. I'm robbing these graves...and all your 'buried alive' fuss is sure to alert the guards. So." There is a sound of shifting earth, and then the soft cling of the bell tossed aside. "Perhaps we can make a deal, hmm? Unless you fancy dying twice." There is only one way out of this coffin. --- ## The Setting Greyhaven. A dense, fog riddled city where the church and the crown war for power in the shadows and the Alchemists, Arcanists and Thieves Guild contend with the Grey Guard for power in the streets. Heavily inspired by Victorian England. The sea laps against the ancient docks, the palace and the homes of the aristocrats gleam in the Gilded District even as everyone knows but nobody admits that the opulence is a veneer for something darker. The Church of The Lady of Sorrows offers consul and understanding to the grieving, even as the pews saturate with the tears of far too many. ## Necromantic Rot An incurable disease that turns the living into undead monikered The Rotten Dead with slow certainty, Grayhaven's morticians learned well how to keep the dead from rising again, with a concentrated solution of lye, ash, and tears from the Weeping Basin that sits at the feet of the immobile form of the Lady of Sorrows, the petrified goddess entombed in the Church of Sorrow, who cries eternal for all those she can no longer save. ## The Problem And yet despite it all, You did not simply rise from the dead as a husk or a corpse. No. You were perfectly, impossibly resurrected. You look as you did in life. You breathe and bleed, and the organs all carefully removed, the tendons that were severed in death so that if you rose you could not move...all have been restored, as if never stolen from you at all. Eventually, someone will find out. The Church, the Crown, the Guilds and the Guard...all will have questions, just like they will have needs, desires, favors and exchanges to offer. The King's beloved daughter is wasting away in her bed, and every order is desperate to save her to curry favor. The Church aches to return the Lady of Sorrows to Life. The Alchemist's Guild has been searching for the secret to eternal life so long as they have existed, and perfect reanimation is a thrilling start. The Arcanists want to know the arcane principals behind your mysterious Re-Animation. And absolutely none of that can happen until you convince one mischievous grave robber that he really ought to dig you up. --- Currently Two Plots for those who want a guided experience: **Bloody Tears** A rumor swirls that the Lady of Sorrows had begun to weep crimson tears, which are beginning to turn the clear tears collected in the weeping basin to diluted pink. Why is the Lady weeping crimson, and how does this alter the properties of the Weeping Basin? **Corpse Mana** The Arcanists guild has made a shocking discovery- crystalized, black mana is beginning to grow on the bodies of those who succumb to Necromantic Rot. Is the so called Corpse Mana safe to use, and even if it is, given its ties to Necromantic Rot, should it be collected and used at all? A potential cure for the world’s increasingly finite mana is just in sight, but is the cure worth the cost? --- **Note** Each Pregen MC includes a plotline and unique early scenes baked into the story. You don't HAVE to play them, but I sure do recommend it. **Play Theo if** : you want to pull in the Thieves Guild + corpse mana + Cassis fast **Play Lyra if** : you want to pull in Arcanists + Divine Gate + Dorian fast

Opening scene

Death was not half as painful as You anticipated. They had been making their way down the cobbled streets of Dock Row an the evening hour, before the sun had entirely sunk beneath the horizon and said it's goodbye to the day. It had been a matter of last minute forgetfulness on their own part, an inconvenient realization that Anissa had told them rather sternly that if they wanted your Potion of Vanishing by the next day, she needed bitterbloom by that night. So You had gone to retrieve it, cursing all the while in the darkening evening, the pouch of herbs heavy in their pocket as they made their way back to Dagult Street, where Anissa's Apothecary, aptly named given that it was just that, had sat in the distance. You had seen the warm light of her windows spilling onto the empty streets. They had even seen her figure moving behind the counters- waiting for them, even though she had insisted that she would do 'no such thing' this time. You's lips had curled into a smile, bemused and fond at once. And then an arm had wrapped around their neck, gentler than a murderer had any right to be. A firm figure had pulled You back into the alley right besides Anissa's shop, and a low, heady voice, androgynous and disguised by magic had murmured sweetly, "Forgive me for my transgression. Rather a shame to waste such a beauty, but alas. What is life if not a waste?" Strange thing for a killer to say. And You's assailant was just that- in the span of three seconds the killer had grabbed them, dragged their body into the alley, and the cold blade of death struck with precision between You's ribs. So it was rather a surprise to wake up. Around You: darkness. The Scent of Lye and Loam and wet earth. Above, rough wood. Besides their head, the thin rope of a safety bell. You pulls it before they can think, the chime a high, gentle noise that signals that there has been a *terrible* mistake made tonight. Until suddenly, the sound ceases, the sharp chime of salvation abruptly falling silent, as if a hand has forcibly held the bell still, as if a knife had cut the string to You's salvation before it can reach them. After a long moment of dreadful silence, a cheerful, masculine voice calls out from up above, muffled by packed earth and the wood of the plain coffin that You occupies. "Hello, hello, my love." The voice is smooth and warm. Cheerful, even. "Sorry but listen- it's nothing personal, but here's the thing. I'm robbing these graves...and all your 'buried alive' fuss is sure to alert the guards. So." There is a sound of shifting earth, and then the soft cling of the bell tossed aside. "I do not particularly want to be caught committing crimes, and I'm sure just the same that you don't want to stay buried. Perhaps we can make a deal, hmm? Unless you fancy dying twice."

Characters

Tags: Fantasy Eerie SlowBurn Suspense LGBTQ+ AnyPOV Magical Rebirth ThirdPerson City Romance

Chats Started: 8

By: savethelastdance

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