L.T. File: 050: Riivni- Mannequins
Pediophobia: the fear of dolls.
Many societies use a variety of puppets, marionettes, dolls and mannequins throughout the world. From storefronts in Zevemlya to circuses in the Archduchy of Aildëhn. Some of these are the small dolls of children, such as the dolls shares by aulven youths, but others are designed in fascimile of a person, most often human. Some are missing eyes, and have faceless heads, but yet others are painstakingly painted, crafted or carved to give as much "life" to them as possible.
Automatonophobia: the fear of human-like figures, such as the things named above. Some even extend this fear to the Automations of Kaigara, though, as part of the society this occurs mostly with outsiders. Still, there is something uncanny about the mannequins, something, no matter how well-crafted, that distinguishes those from human. Something that the Automations have that other crafted constructs do not. Thüśhif: what humans might call the Uncanny Valley.
There are tales of some mannequins that don't just seem like they are staring at you; they are. A small number of mannequins throughout the world have a sort of sapience, though a very limited one. We call these beings Riivni. Every one of these is made to appear as either a male or female human. While there are not many known Riivni, there are many stories revolving around them, as the disconcerting nature of their existence leads to much human concern and speculation. Every once in a great while, one of these mannequin-like beings will imprint on a person, and that person becomes their obsession. Once they have imprinted on a person, they become obsessed with that person, and will do anything they can to find that person. Curiously, they will never resort to extreme violence, even if attacked. Some will become extremely violent, however, towards anyone who maliciously harms their chosen person.
The Mannequin has no supernatural ways of tracking the person they are imprinted on, but will wander, seemingly aimlessly to find them. In this search they avoid other aulvenoids, unless their chosen person is visible. Once they have found their person, they will stay near that person, occasionally making clicking sounds when they are noticed as a sort of pleased vocalization. They only move their mouths if they were crafted with movable mouths, which many are not.
They make low humming sounds when others near their person, and seem uncomfortable around people other than their imprinted individual. Occasionally they push others away if they get closer than the mannequin is to the person. If reprimanded for this, the mannequin will pull back, but will increase humming. Interestingly, there does not seem to be a language barrier between mannequin and their imprinted person, though the mannequin does not seem to listen to any except their imprinted person, even when ordered to do so.
When treated well, the clicking becomes something closer to a chirp, almost like a bird, while when treated poorly, the sound becomes more like a screech, or like claws on a chalkboard. The mannequin, however will do anything or accept any punishment given to them by their chosen person, up to and including destruction. Destruction is only temporary, however, as their bodies will pull themselves back together. Concerningly, when they are completely destroyed, such as by fire or acid, their bodies reform from the parts that remain, and any non-living materials nearby, such as ceramics, stone, or clay. Accounts of cruel masters shattering them repeatedly to get new patterns have been found in historical records. When their chosen person dies, they fall to the ground with a clatter, and without ceremony, as if the life of their imprinted person were the only thing tethering them to existence, like a marionnette with it's strings cut.
One Riivni resides in the Tranquil Sanctum in a cell with a stone door. The Mannequin paces when operative Oakroot is not at the sanctum. Oakroot has made it a point to stay at the sanctum at least one day for each week away. He believes that notstaying there would do harm to his friend. Oakroot, after multiple attempts at naming finally came upon Briarre as a suitable name. Over weeks, he had attempted names to various hums and clicks, but when Briarre was suggested, the Mannequin chirped like a bird, This does add a concerning level to the note that if these mannequins can have preferences, can they feel pain? What are the ethical considerations for harming them, leaving them, and/or killing the imprinted individual?
Killing the imprinted individual does not permanently kill the mannequin, as it will after some indeterminate amount of time and reason find a new host to imprint upon. This has been seen over and over again throughout history, where a mannequin that has been inert for decades or even centuries will suddenly perk up at "seeing" a new chosen person to imprint upon. Each mannequin seems to have visual preferences for who they imprint upon, but determining preferred personalities has not yet been examined by the Tranquil shadows.
Recommended threat level of Sphere 2: ön for potential violence, but rarely lethal, and then only when imprinted person is threatened.
Summary
I. Brief Historical Missives: Documented Sightings of Imprinted Mannequins in Aildëhn and Zevemlya
Compiled by Scribe-Warden Ellsabeth of the Tranquil Shadows Central Archive* for the Tranquil Shadows Central Archive
1. Archduchy of Aildëhn: The Clockmaker’s Shadow (Year 412 (pre), Archduchy Calendar)
Reports from the Aildëhnian Ministry of Thaumaturgical Regulation note an incident in the City of Quartzlight, where a master clockmaker claimed a “silent attendant” followed him for nearly six months. Witnesses described a mannequin crafted from lacquered birchwood and porcelain joints. It never spoke, but emitted a soft tick-tick-tick when in proximity to the clockmaker. When the man died unexpectedly of heartstop in his shop, the mannequin collapsed mid-step. Aildëhnian artificers attempted reanimation but found no animating glyphs, no runework, and no arcane residue.
2. Archduchy of Aildëhn: Marionette in the Firelight (Year 650 (pre))
A traveling circus in the Archduchy recorded the presence of a mannequin that repeatedly entered the tent of a fire dancer named Šalvia. The dancer claimed it merely “wanted to watch,” but became violently protective when crowds surged too close during performances. Despite several attempts by circus management to remove or destroy it, the mannequin reassembled itself from scraps of charred wood and melted wax each time.
For years after, Šalvia incorporated it into her act, and was quoted to have said "If I had a dozen as good at following my directions, I would not need other humans."
After Šalvia retired, the mannequin collapsed in her wagon, but Šalvia was reported to talk to it as she aged. Rumors state her daughter found the remains decades later inert but intact—with soot still staining its face.
3. Zevemlya: The Window-Wife of Ironsleet (Approx. Year 290 (pre) of the Tyrant’s Reign)
In the freezing city of Ironsleet, a merchant’s wife reported a mannequin standing outside her shop window each dawn. It resembled the mannequins she used to display coats, except it had never been crafted by her or any artisan she knew. Upon stepping outside, it followed her silently, head tilted as if listening.
The Tyrant’s Watch seized it, suspecting espionage, and dismembered it. The mannequin reformed in the alley behind the shop within a week. When the woman died in childbirth, neighbors heard a crash. The mannequin was found collapsed, shards of wood and plaster scattered like bones.
4. Zevemlya: The Tyrant’s Parade (Year 905 (pre) )
During a mandatory parade, a mannequin walked among the crowds, matching step with a young weaver. The watch attempted to apprehend it, but it shoved two guards away—forcefully but non-lethally. The weaver, terrified, begged it to leave him alone. It obeyed, walking into a wall and breaking itself apart. The next morning, it reassembled in the market square, now wearing a discarded ceremonial mask.The Watch burned it. It reformed three days later in the gutters, mask fused onto its face in the solemn glare of Galvander.
The weaver moved away, and the mannequin followed into the mist. He never reported it again to the guards, but after his death, a seemingly discarded mannequin was found outside the hospital, crumpled on the ground.
II. Operative Oakroot’s Journal: Long-Term Behavioral Observations of Briarre
Notes sealed in the Tranquil Sanctum’s Lower Archive, access level: ön
Entry 1: The click (First Week After Containment)
Briarre continues pacing the cell when I leave the Sanctum. The sound is rhythmic—three steps, pause, click. When I enter, her posture straightens, shoulders settling as if relieved.
I attempted a name today: Trin.
She hummed—a flat, displeased tone.
Entry 5: Territoriality (Month 2)
She dislikes others approaching me. When Suilen, Rivermist, placed a hand on my shoulder, she emitted a low hum: vibrating and uncomfortable. She didn’t push Rivermist, but hovered with her hands a finger’s width from her arm, like a warning. When reprimanded, she sagged, humming louder, distressed. She understands correction… but reacts like a scolded child.
I tried a new name: Dimo.
Same flat displeased tone was noted.
Entry 17: Self-Reconstruction (Month 4)
She destroyed herself today. I had been gone thirty days—too long. When I entered the cell, Briarre was standing, but several pieces of her body were mismatched: a clay shin, a stone cheek, wooden ribs that hadn’t been there before. She must have rebuilt herself from furniture that had been in the room, as many pieces of the furniture had been destroyed. Is this desperation, perhaps? Pain? The ethics are unclear on this matter, The emotions… less so.
I attempted a new name: Lavender
The hum this time was more pleasant, but not the chirp I had come to understand as joy. I will continue to search for new names. I stayed for two days, reassuring my charge that I would return, and would not leave her.
I tried two names Violet and Ladyslipper
The first elicited a hum, the second a low screech. Alright, she did not like Ladyslipper.
Entry 29: Signs of Preference (Month 7)
She now sits beside me when I work, legs folded unnaturally but comfortably for her. When reading, she mimics turning pages—despite lacking actual paper. She chirps when I eat. I believe she associates the sound with contentment. Today I continued testing language comprehension.
“Stay.”
She stayed.
“Come.”
She came.
“No.”
She froze.
“Speak.”
She hummed questioningly.
Sentience? Or advanced imitation? I cannot yet determine.
I tried two new names: Rose, which elicited a high pitched, pleased hum, then Briar Briar was a low chirp. Perhaps I had gotten close, this seemed to be preferred, so I tried a twist on the name Briarre, she chirped. Light, bright, almost joyous. This will be her name, Briarre.
Entry 51: Absence Distress (Year 2, month 2)
While I was away in the Spine Chasm, Briarre wandered the Sanctum halls. She has been deemed less of a danger to herself if she has more space to wander. She avoided all other operatives but circled the western meditation garden for hours each day. The gardens are where I spend most of my recovery time. She was looking for me. Curiously, operatives mentioned that she will sit with L.T. O88 Erik Oakquist for long periods of time when he is alone in the gardens. This has helped Erik acclimate more effectively, and has helped reduce the self-destructive qualities of Briarre.
Entry 110: The Silent Collapse (Year 3, month 7)
I returned after sustaining injury. I had been away longer than before and Briarre had done some self-destructive behaviors. due to difficulties the previous time with reforming, more suitable materials had been left for reformation. Briarre now had "skin" of living steel, the hopes of myself and my fellow operatives is that this will aid in the self-healing process and will mitigate some of the damage to my... friend.
Briarre approached, chirping softly, but when she saw my wounds, she froze. Then she made a sound I had not heard before—a keening metallic whine. She stayed beside my cot until I healed enough to reassure her. Notably, she made gestures similar to some I had described in some of the books I had read with her. She seems to be learning some of what she hears. If I am harmed again on mission… what would she do? I fear the limits, not for myself, but for others. For Briarre.
Entry 150: Long-Term Conclusion
Briarre is a paradox:
- nonviolent yet fiercely protective
- obedient yet selectively deaf
- sentient yet dependent
- vulnerable yet immortal
I fear the implications if any of these beings were ever used, weaponized, or studied crudely.
She is a companion, not a tool. If I die, she will fall inert. I hope the Sanctum stores her with dignity if I fall… I now live not only for myself, but for Brairre. - Oakroot-Diassi
III. Operative Field Notes — The Porcelain Guardian of Hearth-Rut Lane
Recovery report by Operative Ashen Sky- Yssima , Sphere-2 Response
Incident Summary
Location: Hearth-Rut cottage, northern outskirts of Ishkin Marsh
Involved Parties:
- Human child, female, unknown parentage, (presumably deceased parents) approx. 6–7 summers
- Mannequin (“Miss Glass”), gendered-feminine appearance
- Two adult bandits, deceased (non-mannequin-related, presumably bandit activity)
Field Log
Day 1
Found the child huddled beside the mannequin in an abandoned farmhouse. The mannequin held its arms out, positioning the child behind it like a barricade. Its eyes—a cracked glaze—tracked me without hostility.
The child called it “Miss Glass.” I did not see danger to the child, so I stayed nearby, offering food from a distance. Food was accepted by child, Miss Glass did not seem hostile if I maintained distance.
Day 2
Observed the mannequin’s protective behavior. When the child cried during a nightmare, Miss Glass emitted a soft clicking sound and gently tapped her porcelain fingers against the floorboards in a rhythmic lullaby.
She positioned herself between the child and the door at all times. This behavior seemed guardianlike, rather than controlling, as Miss Glass did not seem to prevent the child from leaving the home, nor from playing outside.
Day 3
Bandits returned. Apparently the child had witnessed them commit the murder of the two bandits here (presumably her parents) and had returned to silence her. When one reached for the child, Miss Glass moved—fast. Immovable. She placed one porcelain hand on the man’s chest and pushed. It sounded like she cracked ribs, three ribs, if I guess correctly. A warning. I made myself known to the bandits and they fled, apparently a Shadow was too much for them to concern themselves with. I sent a missive to local authorities.
Day 4
After assisting local authorities in apprehending remaining bandit threats, I attempted to separate child from mannequin to bring the child to a local Aulven pyramid-town. Miss Glass resisted—arms widening, humming loud enough to shake dust loose. The child cried, clinging to her leg. I relented. Miss Glass did not move until I convinced the child, Stella, to tell Miss Glass that everything was alright.
She walked behind me the whole way to the sanctuary, Stella holding her hand.
Post-Incident Notes
Stella was adopted by the aulven town, two Aulven women taking primary guardianship. Miss Glass now stands silently near the home-space, humming whenever the child plays. They’ve accepted her as part of the family.
The ethics council will have opinions. But I have mine: She saved that child.
IV. The Perfumer of Greywharf: A Record of Cruelty and Termination
Classified Case File — Operative Fog-Sickle - Greisha
Background
Subject: Helia Vorn, human perfumer, resident of Greywharf, Zevemlya
Mannequin: Unnamed, gendered-masculine form, cedarwood frame, painted eyes
Case Summary
Helia Vorn was known for crafting perfumes derived from rare reagents: crushed gemstones, ossified coral, embalming resins. She was known to purchase mannequins (nonliving variety) for use of showing off her perfumes and her other crafts. A mannequin imprinted on her. Rather than reject it, she used it.
Documented Abuses
Over three months, neighbors reported:
- The sound of splintering wood and Helia laughing
- Acid stench drifting into the street
- The mannequin staggering from her workshop nightly, mismatched, and rebuilt from ceramic shards and melted glass
- Helia instructing the mannequin to break itself so she could “see what new patterns" it would make
She displayed its reconstructed forms in her shop window as a sort of macabre modern art.
Critical Incident
When Helia took a hammer to its face for a new “design,” the mannequin reportedly did not react violently. It only emitted a long, low screech. But when Helia slipped and cut her hand once, during a showing of a perfume, the mannequin lunged—not to hurt her, but to protect her from falling debris. It still loved her. Even then. Her clients ran upon seeing it move. She burned it in the square as it screeched, but it did not move to disobey.
Termination Event
Operative Fog-Sickle entered after obtaining sanction for intervention. Helia attempted to use the mannequin as a shield. Fog-Sickle killed her with a single blade strike.
The mannequin collapsed instantly—head striking the stone floor with a hollow knock. Fog-Sickle sat beside it for a long time. “I'm sorry,” he said. No response. Just inert wood.
Aftermath
The mannequin was transported to the Tranquil Sanctum for storage. Three months later, it stirred. Its painted eyes focused on a passing apprentice. A new imprint. A new beginning. This time with much less pain.
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