Agent MacLeod's Wanderbox!


Hi. This is my sandbox. I write things in it. This is a link to my SCP Wiki sandbox. I write things in that, too.

rating: 0+x

14th July 3004

Darling Mira,

I've been granted an audience with a rather bizarre local ruler who has told me the history of their city and I thought you'd much like to hear it.

I was travelling with a Slow Caravan of Immortal Monks when we approached a great walled city they spoke about only in hushed tones. They recalled their missionaries and were wary of travellers on our path. I found this strange and unsettling because they are normally quite welcoming folk. My queries regarding the city went largely unanswered until I finally asked if we were in any danger. An elder among the monks whom I'd grown fond of, a librarian named Omar Rudyard, took me aside and explained that the city we were approaching was ruled by an undead dark sorceress, a Lich. He further explained that the peasantry were undead slaves and the aristocracy were debaucherous vampires. It was a dark and unspeakable place.

I had no choice but to take my leave of the monks and see for myself. Perhaps the monks were right to fear and despise the place they called Shishanotoshi, or perhaps the place had an unfair reputation. You know me, dear; I hate taking people for their word without good reason to, and I've escaped worse places than cities of the undead. I have with me my silver-coated dagger and my revolving pistol; if there were any danger, I'd be able to make my escape or, at the very least, make them remember my name. This isn't to mention the fact that the city seemed ancient and the luxurious undead have a habit of keeping well-stocked libraries; perhaps I could discover some information relevant to my mission.

So I gathered my effects and made my leave of the Slow Caravan, wishing my friends there luck in their studies and meditations. I underestimated the distance to the city and its vastness; it took a day of walking from dawn until twilight hours to reach the city gates. The immortal monks had given it a wider berth than I'd realized; this was quite disarming because, again, this was quite atypical for them. They're usually quite eager to trade and recruit but this place and its stories of evil frightened them.

As I approached the gates, I found myself walking a well-lit cobblestone road lined with oil lamps; such welcoming infrastructure is not what I expected from a city of hateful, cursed undead. I saw a cloaked figure far ahead of me lighting the lamps along the way; if I didn't know better I'd have almost thought they were naught but skin and bones. I'd later have this assessment proven correct, though I didn't know it.

//Far more shocking, however, were the guards manning the city gates. The passage itself was heavy, unadorned wood set in the vast, thick, impenetrable walls, but the passage was wide open. Standing directly outside the gate were what I at first thought were mere soldiers, wearing simple plate armor. But as I grew closer I was shocked to see that within the armor there were skeletons, long since stripped of their flesh.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License