@muddsludge - arcane verse
People believed in fate and destiny, they cried out for a higher purpose and ignored the fact they may not like whatever may answer their call. Mortem was one such creature, the one who heard and the one who answered.
This place, this Undercity sometimes known as Zaun and other times known was Piltover's Shadow was not as ugly as she imagined it would be. Sure, some of the architecture wasn't desirable but it had much more personality than anything in Piltover. Ramshackled together, thriving and surviving in its own way. Why go to a place already prospering when the real potential lived down here, clawing at the mud and vomiting in alleyways?
She was in the city before anyone knew it. A small building, one she fixed up enough to keep out the rats. Cleaned enough to breathe in. It was dim, it was easy to pass by, but its was now hers. It was no cabin, a shame, but she could hear the water from within and pretend it was something clean and enjoyable.
The first floor of the building clearly used to be a kitchen and sitting room crushed together, but now it merely was her space to work. Various fabrics were draped around, like a colorful snake coiled around any that dared to enter. It made it impossible to see inside, kept out the cold and kept in the warmth of the crackling fire. Because of course she picked a place that could house a fireplace.
Warped shadows cast along the walls, upon the ceiling, never truly whole due to the fabrics they danced upon. There wasn't much inside the room beyond a round table she had fixed up and a crystal ball. There was something inside it, like a stone, but it was murky and difficult to see. There wasn't much decor beyond some light catchers made from colored glass and shiny rocks. A colorful but minimal space.
People came, they asked their questions, they asked for help. Sometimes she gave it in a blessing, other times a curse. Sometimes she gave them medicine, a tool, or provided them with the execution they prayed for. Their own, or another's. She wasn't picky. Given all she heard about the Zaunite named Silco, it didn't surprise her that he'd come snooping eventually. And there she would be this eve, sitting at the table as if awaiting him. The shop was too small to accommodate everyone in his party, but it could accommodate one or two. She liked the experience to be more intimate, but she wasn't opposed to a joint session.
Her foot kicked out the chair across from her, it screeched slightly against the wooden floor before stilling. A silent invitation for him to sit, if he so wished. Whenever he was ready to enter her abode, he'd find it ready for him. And then they could truly begin.
