The Grand Order of Dread was established in a time before counting by an assemblage of beings that remain a mystery, for their names alone would cause incurable madness and the collapse of entire realms—at least that’s what the current iteration of the Grand Order has to say when asked about their history of poor recordkeeping. One certainly couldn’t write things down once upon a time on account of the madness and the collapsing and the other inconvenient possibilities, so inadequate archives were just an unavoidable misfortune. The fault belonged with no one, least of all any of the Grand Order’s elusive and anonymous six-member council, but someone was surely held accountable, tortured appropriately, and disposed of anyway.

The Grand Order of Dread, or GOoD, had since come to appreciate the art of documentation, as failing to do so in the past lent itself to unmitigated disasters like Yvlcon 253, when proper communication was not drafted and the meeting location turned out to be a dire badger mating ground, or Yvlcon 611, when, due to an ill-placed apostrophe, a summons was sent to a direct descendant of a dominion, instead of the intended demonic offspring, who subsequently slaughtered half of the attendees.

Eventually, the Grand Order evolved with the cycling of its council, and recordkeeping became not just an unfortunately necessary good, it became unconditional. If one were an Yvlcon attendee, one would absolutely be accounted for in sextuplicate, and one who had failed to send the proper forms in via raven, shark, or viper post for approval to bring along a non-GOoD-sanctioned being to Yvlcon—especially a seemingly nonevil one—would soon learn things would become messy.

Damien Maleficus Bloodthorne knew this.

Ammalie Avington, however, did not.