Septicess VonGrimme was a happy warlock. Or at least, he was as much as one could be whilst missing half a face, fighting for his unlife on a daily basis and living in these turbulent times.
The reason for his happiness was, for once, not due to the Plague Doctor discovering a new way of killing his foes. Nor was it due to the Felboar that had digested his jaw not-so-long-ago being successfully tracked down, gutted and that his mandible was in the post. No, they remained on his 'to do' list.
His unusual and genuine happiness, as opposed to perverse pleasure, was because his work was finally being acknowledged. Yes, all be it that it was not until he had died and been resurrected that this finally happened, but it had happened, and that's all that mattered.
He was still feeling the rumblings of events which shaken the core of the guild, with The Council defiling and forming The Shadowed Path. By no means was it a secret that VonGrimme had a great distain for the Counselors and their manner of operations, so he was pleased to be informed of their release from duties.
There was barely enough time for his pleasant mood to return to it's normal, twisted and plotting state when he ran into his former colleague in life, Alfred Beckitt, recognizing him immediately. Whilst humans, fellow pathologist Beckitt had worked closely alongside the Plague Doctor attempting to cure the forsaken blight and was soon talked into joining the Banshee Queen's Court, adding to it's already impressive scientific minds.
To cap it off, it was to his surprise and pleasure that none other than his mentor, Grand Consul, Grand Apothecary, Doctor, by however which title he chose, welcomed Septicess into the Nobility of the House in trade of a pledge of allegiance, one which he was happy to take.
Yes, it had been a very good week for the Plague Doctor and as he sat at his desk, littered with images and profiles of The Shadowed Path's members, he laughed to himself. By no means were a bunch of insolents going to taint his good mood.
