Category: Event

#Lore24 – Entry #325 – Fantasy Month IV #20 – Back to the Trail, and the Third Ritual

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I could get little out of Lady Armenia once we had managed to extricate ourselves from her bed, and Risai was just as uncertain of what we had gone through as I was, her memories having gotten hazy even before mine.  I noticed that the magical rune upon her seemed to glow more brilliantly now, and she confirmed she was every bit as horny as I was.  Fortunately, we had plenty to keep us busy that day, and Lady Armenia did not summon us that evening, leaving us some time to recount our experiences in the quiet of the inn in Vindinium.  I once again shared Risai’s bed as together we tried, quite unsuccessfully, to relieve that horniness that consumed us, her rune proving every bit as capable as my cock cage and “armor”, which Lady Armenia had insisted I don before she allowed me to leave that morning.  It seems that Risai had found herself in a situation not unlike my own, though she at least still had her anatomy intact.  I daresay she was much happier with said situation than I was.

We set out from the village at daybreak the following morning, bearing south-southeast, looking for telltale signs of an ancient roadway like the others we had encountered to the north.  The forested nature of the area made this more difficult, but we continued onward, and were perhaps gifted with a blessing from Yurisaya (given what Risai and I had experienced the previous night, I daresay we had earned such a boon!), for on our second day out from Vindinium, Risai spotted remnants of an ancient draconic structure, mostly consumed by the landscape.  From this point, Shassk was able to climb a tree and get a good look around us, and was able to determine a path that followed our planned route that seemed to fit the nature of the ones to the north, and by midday on the third day, we had located the third set of standing stones, and, thankfully, without encountering any hostile forces.

We completed our ritual that evening, I somehow managing to keep myself on task in spite of the incessant buzzing of my accessories once again within the region of the standing stones, though I noted that Risai too seemed more worked up than last time as her rune was likely affected in a similar way as my gear.  From here, in the depression around the stones, we spotted a route to the west that we hoped would lead to our next destination and would be following it on the morrow.  If my calculations were accurate, I figured it would take us a week, maybe as much as two, depending on terrain, to reach the next site, for this represented the largest gap between the sites based on their pentagonal alignment.

Perhaps the effects of the draconic ritual had been amplified somewhat by our recent experience with Lady Armenia’s dedication ritual to Yurisaya, for Risai and I were feeling far hornier than we had previously once we had left the region of the stones, and throughout the next day as well, constantly fidgeting about and trying to (perhaps not so subtly) find relief for our needs.  Gresilda inquired about our distress, having sensed something going on with us, already having a very good idea of what had occurred with Lady Armenia that night.  Once we had camped that evening, we slipped off as we women tended to do, and we explained to our experience with the ritual, and of the nature of our current plight.

She was sympathetic, but was hesitant to delve too deeply, given the nature of her own faith in Erisaya.  Though the goddesses are sisters, if she did too much to relieve our frustration, she could very well step on the toes of Yurisaya and Lady Armenia and earn a punishment of her own in retaliation.  She did offer us some relief, though, enough to at least ensure that we would sleep soundly that night, perhaps long enough for the additional horniness from our own ritual to fade to a bearable level.  At that point, we were willing to try anything, so agreed.

It was not to be, however.  As Gresilda guided us through a relaxation technique used by the Erisayan faith, more like a calming massage, really, the three of us were caught unawares and were set upon by a group of well-concealed bandits led by orcish scouts.  So absorbed were we in trying to remedy our situation were we that they were amongst us before we could even make a grab for our weapons, the orcs seemingly well-practiced in the art of quickly binding and silencing their captives.  Before we knew it, even Risai had joined Gresilda and I (though it took three orcs to subdue her, and not without one getting a dislocated jaw and the other taking a kick to his groin), stripped naked (aside from my “armor”, unfortunately) and mercilessly hogtied with painfully tight leather thongs, our mouths filled with a mixture of our travel- and frustration-stained socks and underwear.  Try as they would, they could not dislodge my magically sealed chastity gear, and after some frustrated groping and rather rough handling, they gave up, instead deciding that they should haul us back to their camp.  We were then blindfolded and picked up by the orcs, who, I think rather enjoyed groping Risai and Gresilda from what I could hear, hauled none too gently through the woods, though I knew not where at the time.

#Lore24 – Entry #324 – Fantasy Month IV #19 – A Night Most Humiliating

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

The following day, I conferred with the adventurers about our plans for finding the next ritual site, and proposed the general bearings I had determined based on our previous travels and the maps we had.  We had little knowledge of the regions we would need to travel, but made the wise assumption that they were just as dangerous as the areas we’d already visited.  We would pack more supplies this time, and Gresilda, Ellisar, and I would spend some time the next couple of days brewing potions to augment our own abilities.

Risai had arrived late to our discussions, and I noticed that she was having trouble concentrating on our topics, for she kept fidgeting and casting glances toward the redoubt.  She likewise kept brushing her hands over her breasts when she would move her arms, not really doing much to hide the obvious erection of her nipples beneath her shirt.  I quite correctly surmised that this was not simply a lingering effect of the maidenbane vines, as she tried to dismissively inform us.  I would find out that evening the nature of her arrangement with Lady Armenia when I too would be drawn into the affair.

I suppose I should not linger too long in my description of our preparations, for they were fairly mundane.  We did confirm that the magical marks upon us, one of the runes on our foreheads, the other on our left biceps, were still quite visible to those who concentrated upon us when using arcane sight; I did wonder how long they would linger if we were not in pursuit of the standing stones, or if they would vanish entirely were we to leave the region. 

That evening, once the sun had set and we had finished our dinner in the tavern, Risai and I returned to the redoubt.  She told the others she was simply escorting me there, but I knew better, and said not a word of it.  The others suspected, I’m sure, especially Gresilda, but as I’ve said before, Risai is her own woman.  I said nothing, but could sense her frustration, which had only grown following her evening bath, which she had returned from looking quite disappointed and anxious, for I knew it quite well.  I saw Aishi following Commander Asselin along the fort’s walls, catching her knowing gaze and that smugness of her expression once more.

Lady Armenia awaited Risai and I at the commander’s quarters, her expression amused and expectant.  Risai perked up in spite of her apparent lack of fulfilment and constant arousal since her visit last night, looking as if she anticipated something amazing to happen.  Without a word, Lady Armenia bid us to follow her, and so we did, perhaps my own curiosity overriding my common sense.  Or perhaps it was my intense arousal that drove me forward, for the cock cage had been acutely tight and bothersome today, the vibrations there and in my nipple rings likewise seeming to be at their worst.

I had suspected we would go to Lady Armenia’s chambers, but instead she led us away from the commander’s quarters and toward another section of the redoubt, once I had not spent much time in at all.  She led us toward the barracks, then below, not into one of the storage areas, but toward the dungeons.  I daresay that Risai was nearly salivating as we descended, and I resolved that perhaps I should inquire as to the exact nature of her fantasies at some point during our travels, assuming I did not find out all about them this night.  As we descended into the darkness, Lady Armenia summoned a ball of light to guide us, and as we continued deeper, through an underground that was much larger than I had assumed, we came to a heavy, ancient door, recently cleaned and tended to.  I spotted two of her drakonae warriors skulking at the edges of the light, keeping watch over the room, and wondered where the others had been hiding as we passed through the dark corridors.  She removed the new lock upon it and led us inside, and with a snap of her fingers, candles ignited all around us.  As I took in the scene, the door was closed behind us.

It was undeniably a torture chamber, though all of the ancient tools and devices had been cleaned and repaired, the room itself brought back to an immaculate state, complete with a shrine to the Dark Lady, Yurisaya, a large image of her black half-mask entwined with thorn-covered vines displayed prominently at the front of the chamber.  This place had become her temple within the Wildlands, and we were to be the first “sacrifices” to anoint this place in her name.  Lady Armenia had indeed been quite busy during our days of travel through the wilderness.

Silently cursing my curiosity about the nature of Yurisayan rituals, I nonetheless obeyed Lady Armenia’s command when she big Risai and I to strip, for she left no room for protest with the dominance she projected.  I noticed that Risai sported a pair of nipple rings like my own when she and I finally stood together in our nude state, and bore a curious magical glyph, glowing a deep purple color, upon her body, above her pubic mound, which I assumed was a more temporary form of the enchantments upon my cock cage that prevented me from finding release to my frustrations, judging by the moisture upon her thighs and the strong scent of her arousal that filled my nose as we stood beside one another.

Though some of the events of that night remain blurry in my memory, I will recount those that I can remember most clearly here.  In short order, Risai and I were secured with heavy manacles between two pillars, our limbs spread painfully wide, facing each other with perhaps ten feet between us, our mouths fitted with large, leather-wrapped bit gags secured by harnesses about our heads.  Thusly secured, our devices began to hum, seemingly with anticipation, as Lady Armenia began her ritual to dedicate the new temple, offering her prayers to Yurisaya over the table of implements she would use upon us that night.

With the metal shackles biting my flesh, but my anticipation and arousal constantly rising, I watched with rapt attention as Lady Armenia took up the wide leather strap and turned first to me.  She stepped behind me, my only warning before the strap struck my backside being the whooshing sound before the blow landed.  I screamed, jerked in my bonds, as pain flared throughout flesh, my ass stinging immediately from the blow, though it was only the first of many.  Lady Armenia would concentrate upon my hips and thighs, making me rise upon my toes as I fought in vain to dance away from the strap.  Once I was in sufficient agony, though I cannot deny the intensity of the arousal I felt during this, for my cock strained hard against its cage, dripping constantly upon the stones of the floor, she turned her attentions to the anxiously awaiting Risai, performing the same procedure upon her, fueling what must have been a deeply masochistic desire within the large woman.

Next, Lady Armenia secured hooks to our nipple rings, guiding the attached strings upward, through a pulley between us, adjusting it so that our rings were constantly being pulled upward and away from us, forcing us to lean forward against our chains.  This was but the first torment to our breasts, though, for she shortly returned with a wicked-looking flogger, its many tassels set with beads upon the ends of its leather thongs.  When she went to Risai first, and struck the first blow against the woman’s back, causing a surprisingly loud cry of pain from her, I was immediately worried, and felt the woman jerk through the painful tug upon my nipple rings.  I was already in agony by the time the warrior’s body had been thoroughly flogged, leaving her a quivering, moaning mass of flesh.  Once it was turned upon me, I know I did not black out, yet my memory of the event is fuzzy, filled with pain, yet a strange sense of pleasure like I had never before experienced.

My energy did not wane during this ordeal, however, and I felt an unusual vigor fill me as we continued to the next phase.  Risai was fitted with a heavy steel collar and released from her standing spreadeagle, commanded to  hands and knees by Lady Armenia, who choked her with a tug on the chain leash as she whipped Risai’s backside with a riding crop while grinding her tall heel into the much larger woman’s back.  She paraded Risai around me, striking her frequently, making her squeal, then guided her toward a stout wooden pillory that stood before the symbol of Yurisaya.  The large warrior was secured into the heavy wooden device, bent over at her waist, her legs once again spread wide, her dripping crotch receiving several swats with the crop. 

Then it was my turn for Lady Armenia’s attention.  Her zeal had only grown, a veritable fire in her eyes as she approached me and secured a leash to my collar, giving me a few very painful swats with the crop.  Before she released me, however, she retrieved another device, which she secured around my hips and between my legs.  It was what I considered to be a very large dildo, secured to a leather harness that settled perfectly around me, placing the phallus right above my caged anatomy.  Feeling a surge of magic as it was settled onto me, Lady Armenia then undid my restraints and secured my arms behind me with a pair of stout leather straps, then guided me forward with the crop, directly toward Risai.  Once I was positioned behind the warrior, Lady Armenia gave the dildo a quick swat with her crop, making me squeal and dance as if my own anatomy had been struck.  Sensing her lascivious smile more than I saw it, I was guided into position behind the waiting Risai, the head of the dildo guided toward her waiting womanhood.  I could feel the heat of her body, the wetness of her juices as the head of the device pressed against her swollen lower lips.  A swat from the crop moved me forward, sinking the dildo deeper into Risai, making us both moan with pleasure.  Lady Armenia’s hands upon my hips guided me ever forward, until the dildo was, I believe the term is “hilted” within Risai, then she took my leash and secured it to the top of the pillory, assuring that I couldn’t move further than a good thrusting distance.

Feeling the pleasure swirling throughout me, I needed little further encouragement to thrust my hips, moving backward to the limit my leash would allow, then pushing forward eagerly, feeling the strange mix of pain in my magically formed, caged cock as it mingled with the pleasure coming from the magically charged dildo, only to mix further with the pain filling my body.  It was a nigh maddening, yet highly intoxicating experience.

I can recall Lady Armenia resecuring the hooks to my nipple rings as I became absorbed into my task, somehow feeding the attached strings upward to a pulley.  I think Risai’s own rings were similarly hooked, her cords ran through a ring on the floor and then upward and secured to my own, for I recall that shortly after this, I would feel constant jerking pains in my breasts.  Though I could not see Lady Armenia at the time, I felt her come up behind me again, now naked, for her body radiated an intense warmth, perhaps fueled by a combination of her hot mazoku blood and the power of Yurisaya.  I then felt a hot, fleshy pressure against my anus, and realized suddenly that she was sliding her own dripping cock into my ass.  How long she had possessed this, I do not know, perhaps all along?  Or perhaps it was simply another dildo harness?  The pleasure and pain that went through me as we stood together, she fucking me, and me fucking the pilloried Risai, before the visage of Yurisaya, the eye of the half-mask having taken on a peculiar glow, must have been overwhelming for my mortal mind.

I have vague flashes of what followed, for I think I finally experienced orgasm in spite of the caged nature of my anatomy, perhaps several of them that night.  The pain-pleasure haze had fully consumed me as we fucked in that debaucherous state.  I can recall that perhaps there were others who came into the room following this, some of the soldiers from the fort above, perhaps, for I remember sucking several cocks, perhaps Lady Armenia’s own, then feeling them inside my ass at the same time, seeing Risai in a similar state, every hole filled by a vague figure, her hands working hard on two more men.  I remember the feel of their fluids upon my body, in my ass, in my mouth, the hot, salty taste.  Then I remember licking it from Risai’s pussy as she in turn licked it from my ass.

I feel like it may have gone on much longer, but beyond that, the night’s events were a blur.  I awoke late the following morning, somehow feeling refreshed, if remaining groggy far longer than I normally would have.  Risai and I were both in Lady Armenia’s bed, nestled against the priestess on either side, bearing no signs of our ordeal aside from the collar that remained around Risai’s neck, now looking more like my own than it had previously.  Perhaps I simply dreamed it all? 

No, it was far too vivid to be but a dream…

And yet…yet I remain as aroused and horny as I was before, in spite of all that may have occurred.  It is a maddening state I find myself in as we make our final preparations to return to our quest.

#Lore24 – Entry #322 – Fantasy Month IV #17 – A Messy Situation

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

For those readers who may not be aware of the exact timing, these journal entries are indeed written well after the events described within them; I can’t very well catalogue my thoughts when I’m being assailed by ravenous vines covered with lust-inducing venom, now can I?  As an example, this and the last entry were both written once the party safely returned to Vindinium.  As to how that happened, do read on.

I am uncertain how long the druids allowed the vines to enjoy our bodies, for it is all a pleasure-shrouded haze of frustration in my case, though perhaps Risai and Korvalis may indeed have a different opinion on the matter.  I would daresay Risai may have enjoyed the predicament for a time, and perhaps Korvalis as well, though the wrath he would bring upon the druids following our eventual escape may indeed indicate the opposite. 

We were taken into a well-hidden camp deep within the Thistlewood, nestled among some of the ruins of the ancient draconic city, the vines shaped and controlled by the druids to keep us restrained and at their mercy.  I can recall Risai fighting against the binding vines, to little effect other than the vines seemingly redoubling their efforts to feed upon her essence.  As my memories of the hours or days that we spent in captivity are hazy at best, I will skip to the parts I remember, the night we were to be sacrificed.

I believe their ritual was intended to correspond to the peak of the full moon, for the druidic cult had dedicated themselves to preparations during our captivity and grew ever more excited for what was to come, to the best of my recollection.  I am thankful that our companions who had not been captured remained vigilant, for on the day of the ritual, the druids rested later and more deeply than normal as they prepared themselves, leaving only a handful to keep watch over us.  Ellisar saw to cloaking our party members with his magic, while Shassk saw to dealing with our guards in a silent, if most gruesome, manner, aided by magical silence from Ellisar.  Once the druids controlling them were dealt with, the maidenbane vines lost interest in us, thoroughly gorged as they were upon our vital essence.  Gresilda thankfully had prepared several spells to remove the lingering effects of their poison upon us, giving us a proper chance to carry ourselves out of the hidden enclave, cloaked by more of Ellisar’s invisibility.

I was content to make a hasty retreat to Vindinium, but Korvalis would have none of it, insisting that he had to pay the druids back for their actions.  This was the first real conflict amongst our party, and I could understand wanting revenge, certainly, but our best interest lay in retreat to fight another day.  Still, Korvalis, once he had regained his equipment, set off on his own, followed soon by Shassk, while the rest of us rode ahead toward the river crossing a few miles away.  We would wait until sunset for them, and if they didn’t return, then we were to assume they had been captured or killed.  Nobody liked it, but Risai and I were nearly exhausted, and Ellisar and Gresilda had little left in the way of magic.  I still don’t know exactly where Korvalis found the energy to do what he did.

It was just an hour or so before sunset that our two wayward party members returned, the smell of blood heavy upon them, remarkably light of injury. I didn’t get all the details, but Korvalis seemed sated in his bloodlust, and all Shassk would tell me was that even he was now rather unsettled by the deadly efficiency with which Korvalis dealt with the druids. “I have never seen so silent a death befall so many…” was all he told me. There would be no further need to worry from that particular cult.

With that dark mood firmly established, we pushed onward to the village, arriving a couple hours after sunset, where we could finally take time to recover from our long excursion.

#Lore24 – Entry #307 – Fantasy Month IV #2 – An Unexpected and Unwelcome Detour

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

As I write this, it has been several days since my previous entry, and I find myself in a peculiar situation, and far removed from the Great Library I had thought to return to.  A most unexpected and unwelcome detour has befallen me, and I now find myself enroute to the far south-western border of the Imperium and a region of the Wildlands that has recently drawn much attention from the Emperor and adventurers alike.  It is a most curious and vexing arrangement that I find myself in…but I suppose I shouldn’t get too far ahead of myself and recount the details of my situation.

I was in the midst of a most relaxed and deep slumber as my carriage left the outskirts of Draconis Magna and had been completely unaware that it had come to a stop soon after my slumber began.  I would not be aware of it until I was suddenly pulled from the carriage and thrown to the ground outside none too gently.  I was surrounded by a group of black-scaled drakonae,* but before I could even begin to inquire what was happening, one secured a jawbreakingly large ball gag harness about my head, and a black leather sack was pulled over it.  I immediately recognized this as a deprivation hood, for as the laces were deftly tightened and secured, I lost all sensations of hearing and sight beyond my own panicked breathing.  The drakonae worked with quick and well-practiced efficiency that led me to ponder the exact nature of their chosen profession, binding my hands first in tight-fitting leather mitts secured by straps around my wrists, and then drawing my arms together behind my back to encase them in a leather sheath that soon had them held uselessly and mercilessly together, only growing tighter as the laces were pulled tight and the straps around my chest secured. 

My legs were likewise sheathed in stout leather binder that was tightened just as cruelly, from my thighs to my ankles, leaving me perhaps only able to hop about.  That was, of course, until they secured a strap to my ankles to the ring at the base of my armbinder, effectively hogtying me, leaving my back arched in what would no doubt grow quite painful soon.  I was thankful for my natural dexterity and limberness, though how long that would avail me, I did not know at the time.

I had rarely been more secure even when I had assisted Regina Houslin with her binding staff or other experiments in restraint. 

Blind and deaf to the world around me, the drakonae’s efficiency continued as they worked together, their clawed hands lifting me up into what I assumed was a cart.  I was quickly proven wrong, however, when I realized that my knees and head were touching against the sides of something much smaller.  With a sudden panic, I realized, when the lid was closed above me (I could tell by the sudden loss of the heat of the sun upon my skin and the vibrations of the latches being closed) that they had placed me inside a chest!  In my furious struggles, I realized that the chest was barely big enough to contain me, and I had quickly built up quite a sweat, the air growing quite warm and thinner, but not enough that once I ceased my struggles that I was any danger of suffocation. 

I know not where they took me at the time, though I do know that riding hogtied in a chest with your limbs severely bound as I was, inside a chest upon a cart, can be a most uncomfortable and unpleasant experience. 

As my more reasonable mind began to take over as my panic subsided, I tried to reason out exactly who would go through the effort of kidnapping me in such a way, who I may have offended or who may stand to gain from my capture.  I had not been deeply involved with the upper crust of Draconis Magna’s wealthiest classes for long, and I could not remember specifically offending anyone, though given the sometimes mercuric nature of some of the nobility, perhaps I had slighted one in some way unbeknownst to me.  Or perhaps it was an enemy of General Kormides, seeking knowledge of his son through me?  Was it someone seeking knowledge of the Great Library for something nefarious?  It had to be someone of some wealth, or perhaps a group of individuals who had come together, for the party of drakonae were well-trained and brutally efficient, no doubt quite used to such activities, and that kind of expertise always came with a high price. 

I would have much time to ponder my situation, though no answers I could come up with would prepare me for the eventual truth I would learn of my abduction, nor would I know quite how to properly deal with the situation I would find myself in.

 

*Regarding the Drakonae:

I had decided a while back that kobolds and drakonae are separate races, and am formalizing that as of now.  Kobolds in my world are the classic fantasy/D&D creatures that are somewhat doglike in appearance.  Drakonae are more akin to the modern interpretations that have them as draconic in nature, with draconic features (scales, tails, claws, teeth, etc), abilities (such as dragon’s breath, waterbreathing, and wings in some cases), and heritage based upon reclaiming the lost glories of their mighty ancestors who long ago vanished.  Any references to “kobolds” in my older entries (both fantasy and sci-fi) that refer to them using draconic breath or breathing underwater, scales, etc, are Drakonae.  I think I’ve only referenced kobolds once (during the “Kobold Incident” in Eri and Hatae’s month of entries), so all other instances should be considered Drakonae (first named during the Helica month entries).

#Lore24 – Entry #306 – Fantasy Month IV #1 – A Return to the Great Library, A Return to Normalcy

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

To say that the last three months have been trying would be an understatement; it is a testament to my trials that I have neglected my journal for so long.  I will have to recall the specifics later, well, perhaps not ALL of them, given the rather…embarrassing nature of many of them.  Suffice to say, during that particular phase in which Mother quizzed me on my knowledge of various things before my departure from the Great Library, I wound up experiencing more of the things I never thought I would have than I could have imagined.

As my entries from months ago indicate, I was initially quite excited to become the tutor of Alekos, General Loukas Kormides’s son.  I had only visited Draconis Magna a handful of times, and to have the chance to visit it regularly was quite refreshing, at first anyway.  Though I thought I was prepared, I found myself quickly taken in by Alekos’s Mazoku nature, his seductive charms seemingly amplified by his very blood.  I knew this going in, of course, but still, my willpower was only so strong, and I soon found my mind slipping further away from the rational to the lustful.  Oh, Alekos is quite the attentive student, and is possessed of a most keen intellect, but his Mazoku blood runs quite heated indeed.  His attendant Kerryn slave, Ryona, didn’t help matters either, for she was perhaps more insistent with experiencing erotic pleasures than even he was.  Now, perhaps, I understand why Alekos’s mother, a priestess of Yurisaya whom I never had the opportunity to meet, had insisted upon fitting him with that chastity device.  Though why she did not fit Ryona with one is unclear to me; it would have drastically improved the situation, and would have curved her enthusiasm for demonstrating for me, more often with me, her erotic pleasure arts.

And then there is the wardrobe I now possess that I will likely never again wear.  After the first week, once we had gotten to know each other somewhat, Alekos insisted that I dress in the high fashions that are popular now, though I had previously claimed I would never do so.  I repeatedly said it was unnecessary, of course, but his charms are nigh irresistible when he has his mind set on something; were he but able to focus so intently upon his studies…  I am hardly a fan of such restrictive things, but the finery and custom fitting cannot be understated.  The thought has crossed my mind that perhaps I should drop the trunk containing them off somewhere beside the road before we reach the Great Library; should Mother find out about such things, she would insist on seeing me in every single item, no matter how revealing or restrictive.  I can but wonder whether her own perverse streak could rival that of Alekos…

The less said about what I found myself involved in behind closed doors between Alekos and Ryona the better…

Still, in spite of all of the setbacks and distractions, and the many things I had never intended to learn during my time there, I did manage to maintain a mostly strict schedule of study, and Alekos did perform quite well on the tests which I set before him.  Though a tough decision, I felt that it was in his best interest if I were to leave, and for another scholar to replace me.  When I communicated this to Mother, she understood, and it was then that I learned that I had lasted months longer than other tutors, a testament to my well-trained mind and discipline, no doubt… Still, I think Gray Tiger will make a most adequate tutor for Alekos, and I can be absolutely certain that he will put up with none of Alekos’s attempts at seduction, should he even try them upon a half-ogre, half-orc.

I look very much forward to returning to the Great Library, perhaps only for a while, to clear my mind and recenter myself.  Perhaps after some rest, I will find a way to adventure once again.  For now, though, we are a good distance outside the city, and it will be a long ride to the Wayrest at which we will stop tonight.  It is warm and pleasant, so I think I will nap for a time.

#Lore24 – Entry #305 – Sentinel City by Night #31 – The New Jyhad

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Sometimes I just hate it when I’m right.

Knew it had been way too damn quiet.  After I’d spoken to Sokolova and Grim about my suspicions, it was all tense for a couple weeks, each side just waiting for the other to drop the hammer.  The drug operation had packed up and moved somewhere else; guess they’d gotten wind that I’d sniffed them out and cleared out before the Hound pack and Conway’s SWAT team had swept in on them.  Sokolova’s people had reached out to the Kuei-jin, but diplomacy there was sketchy at best, and there had been little more than informal talks at this point. 

My search for more on the mastermind had come up with nothing but headaches.  I had more vague hints, but that was it.  Couldn’t get even a single solid lead, like whoever it was knew our methods and had already taken them into account.  I couldn’t even track down the new site of the drug operation, even though Vamp Out was flowing through the streets more and more now.  Almost seemed like the stuff appeared out of nowhere for the dealers to hand out, they said.

Then, after all the nights of silence, it all came down at once in an absolute catasterfuck of a night.  Never did care for snow, and it was already piling up by the time I awoke that night.  Should have taken that as a sign to stay in bed.

I’d gotten called in by the PD to consult on a heist at the museum…the same museum I’d spotted the mysterious Kitsune-masked kindred at multiple nights.  Someone had managed to bypass their security and slip past the guards, stolen some ancient relics that had just come into town for a big winter showcase, some dagger and staff and some jewelry from somewhere in the Middle East. 

Just as I was getting my bearings on the scene and starting to take in the nature of the magical auras lingering about the place, the police got the call that a riot had broken out at a Christmas party uptown…then they’d started getting a few more, all over the city.  People going crazy, attacking like wild animals.  I knew what it was immediately and started making calls and sending texts.  All that Vamp Out Grim’s people hadn’t managed to confiscate had just been activated.

I’d just gotten in touch with Sokolova when the line went dead.  It was about that same moment that I saw the explosion in her office building across town, followed by a few more in different parts of the city.  It seemed that my suspicions had been correct.  I couldn’t get a call through, nor could any of the PD, even their radio network was down.  Didn’t sit well at all with me that I hadn’t gotten a single reply to my texts before the network went down. 

Think I actually felt some honest to goodness fear in those moments when everything went pear-shaped. 

Then the cold realization hit.  I had just found myself in the middle of another war, and the Sabbat had just struck with one hell of an opening salvo.

With no clue who amongst the Kindred were still standing after that first strike, with the police trying to organize in the midst of a communications outage and city-wide drug-induced violence, and me counting the seconds until the inevitable appearance of the Fiends’ war ghouls, I could only speculate on just how bad things were going to get going forward. 

This new Jyhad had just gone from cold to hot, and here I was with just my .45 and my wits. 

It was going to be a long night.”

#Lore24 – Entry #289 – Sentinel City by Night #15 – I Want a New Drug

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“At least my time in Sentinel City hasn’t been boring.  Barely a week and a half gone since Dollface was whisked away by Conway’s team to wherever they took her and I’ve already got another “official” case.  Since the last one, I’d learned Conway was actually Sokolova’s childe, so it wasn’t really a surprise when I got the call from the Prince regarding SCPD needing a consult at a murder scene.  Walsh would be waiting for me.

Really hope I’ll get some cases that don’t involve grisly murders one of these nights.  Still, work’s work.

Old Taurus is running like a dream now; hasn’t driven this good in years.  Probably should keep it on a regular maintenance schedule…

Anyway, found the scene pretty easy, nightclub called Paragon on the north end of town, plenty of badges blocking off the scene.  Spotted Emmerson’s car a couple blocks away on my way in, but didn’t see her skulking around outside when I got there.  Could smell the blood in the air soon as I was shown inside by the uniforms on guard; it was thick.  Walsh met me outside the main dance floor where the killings happened, introduced me to the detective in charge on this one from the local precinct, one Grover Blumenthal.  He was on the young side, put me more in the mind of an accountant by the look of him, but at least he wasn’t outright hostile to me coming in on the case.  Guess he hadn’t had time to get jaded, cynical, and territorial yet.  He was also “in the know” as far as my reasons for being there.

The CSIs were hard at work on the dance floor and a few dozen witnesses were being interviewed in another room off to the side.  Dance floor was a bloody mess; doubt a bomb could’ve done it much better.  Just a quick look told me there were at least four victims here based on the number of left hands I counted.  Took a moment to steady myself as I took it all in; all that blood stirred the Beast, made me hungry.  Guess it had been a couple nights since I’d had a proper meal. 

Looked almost like an animal attack; shredded flesh, limbs ripped off, chewed on, blood splattered everywhere.  Several people had been taken to the hospital who had survived the assault.  Suspects escaped, bloody footprints headed toward the emergency exit, disappeared into the night once they hit the wet alley and the steady rain that had been falling since yesterday.  The absolute brutality was impressive; didn’t figure regular humans could pull off something like this without a weapon of some kind.  Ghouls could, perhaps, given enough time to season; a Fiend’s war ghouls could definitely do something like this, but they’d have spooked the crowd before they got too close.  Lupines could also make a scene like this, but they tended to avoid known vampire cities unless they were looking to stir up trouble.  As I asked about witness descriptions of the incident, Blumenthal read off some of his notes; these were young men, sounded like regulars on the club scene, known to spread around recreational drugs when they came out to party; then they freaked out and started tearing people apart.  Descriptions weren’t tracking with a lupine attack; I’m no expert in their ways, but I do know they have a way of fogging mortal memories when they change into their wolf forms.  Handy that.

Wasn’t about to touch these bodies with my second sight.  Level of violence and the horrific deaths they’d suffered meant several sleepless days for me if I did.  Did take some time to look over the scene with my aura perception, though, and it paid off.  Hidden in one of the meat piles was a very faint magical aura.  Went for a look, saw a little red vial mixed in with the gore.  Pulled the detectives over and let the humans catalog the evidence as they would before I had my closer look.  Stuff looked like blood, but it was too bright, too red, almost glowing.  Vial was the kind that slipped into some kind of injector device, which hadn’t been found yet. 

Given the aura on this stuff, I wasn’t sure what to make of it.  Assumed it was some kind of drug, maybe, but I wasn’t about to shoot up with it to find out.  Blumenthal seemed a little more intent on watching me than the scene, and when I asked him about it, he seemed a little embarrassed, said it was the first time he’d ever worked with one of my kind, quickly corrected and said he’d meant a PI.  Smooth cover.  Maybe the kid had potential. 

Speaking quietly so as not to be overhead by anyone who wasn’t clued in on me, I let them know that I’d sensed something supernatural about the vial, the kind of thing that really didn’t need to get out.  Knew somewhere I could get it analyzed, if they’d see me, and figured it was probably the best lead for me to take while they handled the cleanup detail.  Not getting any arguments, I tucked the vial in a Ziploc and then into my coat.  I’d have to go through the proper procedures, might take a couple nights, but it looked like I’d be visiting the Tremere chantry.  That was sure to be an experience.”

#Lore24 – Entry #287 – Sentinel City by Night #13 – Rapid Response

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Thankfully whatever noise I might’ve made once I was inside the warehouse was covered by the girl’s screams.  For me, not for her.  I was moving fast, but as long as the screams and whimpers and pleading kept coming, that meant I didn’t have to worry about the killer noticing me.  Spotted the van we’d seen on the security footage, doors were still open; guess the killer had been too anxious to get to her work.  Took a minute to pop the hood, pulled the wires off the battery; if she tried to run, she’d have to work for it.

Started my way upstairs toward the torture room.  I tried to hurry without moving too fast; delicate thing.  Just to be sure, I double-checked that I’d silence my phone.  Would’ve been pretty embarrassing to be caught by something like that.  Didn’t take me long to get where I needed to go, smell of blood was getting thicker.  Door wasn’t locked, but I eased it open slow, after I’d hit the hinges with some spray lube I kept in my coat pocket for just these kinds of occasions. 

If this lady wasn’t a Malk, she could’ve definitely passed for one of our nuttier brethren.  First thing I saw when I peered in was the trophy rack; saw all the peeled faces of the previous victims staring at me from across the room.  Crazy bitch hadn’t just preserved their heads, but had gone full on Leatherface, made masks out of them.  Guess she’d used the additional flesh she’d taken as extra material.  She wore the Sidney Clark mask now as she paced slowly around Carly Greer, who was secured to a tilted surgical table, scalpel in each hand, making slow, deliberate cuts, seeming to pause to savor the sounds the poor girl made, then to lap at the blood that was coming out of her. 

The name “Dollface” popped into my brain at that moment.  Strange what comes to mind in situations like these.

Kinzie wasn’t far off, on his knees with his wrists and ankles chained behind a support beam, big gag ball in his mouth as he watched with a look of absolute horror on his face.  I would’ve thought him another young woman if I hadn’t known what he looked like before hand from his master’s description. 

Thought for a second there about playing hero, but I didn’t know what this vamp was capable of.  For all I knew, she was as dangerous as one of those Brujah you always hear about that can tear up a whole city block with one hand tied behind their backs.  I eased the door open a little wider, carefully, took a quick gander around the room.  Wasn’t huge, might’ve been the offices back when this place was open for business.  Some side rooms, couldn’t see much about those from here; pretty sure there was another set up stairs leading down on the other side somewhere, though, possible escape route.  Windows were blacked out or boarded up, aside from two that were raised to let in some air and what little moonlight there was, right behind Dollface’s torture rack.

Figured that SWAT team might stand a better chance than me if they could get the drop on her.  Dollface wasn’t going to kill the girl just yet anyway; sucks for her, but not a chance I could risk taking.  I skulked back and eased the door shut, then got off the upper level before I started hammering at my phone, sending what I’d seen to Walsh.  Time like this, maybe having a smart phone would have been better, or maybe if I knew how some Kindred moved so damn fast.  Still, managed to spit out what I had to tell him eventually.  SWAT was already inbound and he was talking to them.  Said one of my kind was with them, and to just stay out of their way.

By the time I got outside, I saw the SWAT van pulling up down the way, outside the fence where Walsh had parked.  Didn’t look like a standard SWAT unit to me, not enough of them, only seven of them, but I could tell they were dangerous.  Hit them with my aura sight as I approached.  One vampire, the one with the big rifle, and the rest were ghouls.  They covered the rest of the ground on foot after a quick word with Walsh, the sniper breaking off to the adjacent building, the others breaking up into two squads of three as they entered the warehouse. 

From the screams, Dollface hadn’t realized they were there yet.

Guessed these guys were military-trained by the way they handled themselves.  I asked Walsh about them while we waited, made him nearly jump out of his skin when I revealed myself.  Bad habit, I know.  Least I didn’t get shot for it.  Said he didn’t know much about them aside from all of them were veterans, though he wasn’t sure about the sniper.  Conway was her name, said she came in with Sokolova’s people, started hanging out with the SWAT team after the mayor and police chief worked out whatever “fucked up arrangement led to me working with you.”

Didn’t take long.  Couldn’t have been five minutes since I’d passed the SWAT team before that big rifle let loose.  One shot.  Some shouts from inside, then silence.  These guys were very good.  All clear came in over Walsh’s radio a minute later; they’d taken Dollface intact, victims secure.  EMTs were there in a flash, taking care of Carly and Kinzie, and were gone just as quick. 

SWAT bagged up Dollface to go, had her staked out, one gnarly head wound marring the Sidney mask.  Conway met up with them, finally got a look at her without her helmet and mask.  Pale, platinum hair cut short, had an intensity about her, the kind that comes with a lot of combat.  Shared a smoke with her men, figured they were her ghouls by how comfortable they were around her.  We didn’t speak much, but she said she’d be in contact with Sokolova shortly with a full report, and that she’d let Kyou know his ghoul was safe.  Said I did good for my first job, glad to see that I was a team player. 

I stuck around long enough to gather what other details I could for the sake of completing my case notes, but since I wasn’t there in any official capacity, I made myself scarce.  I let Walsh and his team handle cleaning up the scene and left any glory that might come from it to them.  I worked better in the shadows, after all.  For a wonder Emmerson didn’t show up on the scene till I was already on my way out, along with the rest of the media types.  Guess even her sources weren’t able to keep up with how quickly we’d moved tonight.  Would definitely be looking into that before long.”

#Lore24 – Entry #286 – Sentinel City by Night #12 – Rapid Escalation

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Things got real interesting real fast tonight. Was at the PD with Walsh, going over the security footage they’d gotten earlier that day.  Spotted a panel van, abductor’s vehicle of choice, leaving the scene, but couldn’t get a read on the plates.  His people were trying to track it but had lost it when it had passed through Chinatown heading east; seemed like the people there weren’t too fond of cooperation.  Better than nothing, though.  Could be hiding there; none of the bodies had been found too close to the district, but I suspected there were other reasons for that, though I hadn’t taken a drive through there myself just yet.

Before I could consider possible hiding places, I got a call from a number I didn’t recognize.  The lady on the other end was frantic when I answered.  Once I got her to slow down, she introduced herself as Kyou, one of the local Kindred.  Name rang a bell, think I’d heard it regarding one the Elysium locations in town.  Anyway, she was all in a huff because her prized ghoul, Kinzie, had gone missing earlier this evening.  The way she described him, he was the most beautiful thing walking, so I guess that qualified him for attention from our killer.  Hadn’t expected her to grab another one so soon; guess this Kinzie just hit all the right buttons and she couldn’t stop herself.  Might not be related, but my gut said otherwise.

Thankfully, we caught a break; Kyou had a nanny app installed on Kinzie’s phone and had an exact location of where he had been just before the phone had been turned off an hour or so ago.  Worked for me.  Took a ride with Walsh on this one, was a lot quicker getting through town when you’ve got the flashing lights and siren on your car.  Crap, forgot to call the mechanic again.  Maybe tomorrow night.  Noted.

Place was a high-end sex shop, dealt in real fancy gear for really rich kinksters.  Didn’t take long to track Kinzie’s movements; he was a regular, always picking up something or other for Kyou.  Kyou was an artsy type, dealt in fetish photography and living art.  Should’ve guessed she was a Toreador from the way she got all dreamy describing Kinzie to me, even in the midst of her panic.  Whatever.  We found Kinzie’s car in the garage next door, still locked up tight, keys laying on the ground next to the trunk. 

We hit the security office next, pulled the camera footage.  Same panel van came up behind Kinzie as he loaded up the night’s purchases.  Driver spoke to him, and he got right in the van without a fuss.  Classic vampire domination.  Makes it real easy to get your victims from one place to another.  Couldn’t get a good look at the driver, but we had the plates, and Walsh got on it immediately.  There were plenty of cameras in this part of town, traffic and otherwise, but that would take time to sort through them all. 

I made a call to Becky while Walsh was pulling info on the plates.  Won’t go into specifics, but I owe her a favor now; she seemed pretty pleased by this.  Bound to happen sooner or later; it’s just how her kind are.  By the time Walsh had determined the plates were stolen from a sports car that had turned up chopped a few weeks back, Becky was sending me texts with the direction the van had gone.  Walsh and I hit the trail hard and fast, headed eastward. 

Few miles later, we pulled into a dilapidated section of warehouses near the docks, the most likely place our target would have gone given the last hit Becky had sent us, an ATM camera at a liquor store a few blocks from the docks.  Could have been plenty other places for them to hide, but between the gang bangers, druggies, and other types the typically hung out in places like this, a serial killer would very likely go unnoticed.  Didn’t miss the fact that Walsh loosened the catch on his gun in its holster as we started into the area.  Decided to check my piece too.

Kept the windows cracked as we patrolled around.  I focused on what I could hear over the engine.  Got lucky after a little while, heard some screams that sure sounded to me like someone was getting tortured.  We headed in that direction, keeping the lights off as I guided us closer.  Came up to a particular warehouse that seemed a little nicer than the others around it, even had fresh padlocks on the fencing outside.  I stopped Walsh here, told him I’d go in alone to scout the place alone.  He didn’t like it, but then he figured I might be a lot quieter than him.  He said he’d get word back to the PD to get the SWAT team on standby just in case.  Seemed prudent.  I shot off a quick text to Sokolova to fill her in on what was going on. 

Then I stepped into the night, quickly picked the lock on the fence, and headed into the darkness, towards the screams.”

#Lore24 – Entry #277 – Sentinel City by Night #3 – On the Job

From the Journal of Sheba O’Rourke, Private Investigator

“Took me longer to reach the crime scene than I’d hoped; haven’t had time to learn the streets in Sentinel City yet, and the old Taurus didn’t weather the trip from the West Coast as well as I’d hoped.  Will have to get that looked at soon.

Found the scene easily enough once I’d reached the Red Light District, they still had the streets cordoned off, plenty of officers buzzing around, lots of onlookers in spite of the dropping temperatures and coming rains.  Remembered to grab my coat at least this time; wasn’t quite cold enough that I’d notice it, but the humans might have, especially the detectives.  I was expected, not exactly warmly, maybe, but quickly ushered to the body, where I met Walsh. 

I could tell he was skeptical; who wouldn’t be, after all?  I’d been in the city less than a day, after all, and I got the impression those who knew of my nature, like him, didn’t trust the Kindred.  How could they?  I wouldn’t trust someone who fed on my kind either.  Probably didn’t even know about us till Sokolova started her grand vision a couple years back, though.  Still, work to do, killers to find. 

Got the impression Walsh had seen some dark shit already, and I figured he wasn’t even out of his thirties yet.  Looked stressed, especially around his eyes, maybe graying a little prematurely, didn’t look in the mood for small talk.  Introduced myself quickly, he nodded, we didn’t shake hands.  Body looked like a quick dump job, tossed in between some dumpsters.  Walsh didn’t volunteer any information, so I took in the scene for myself.  Walsh and his buddies got a laugh out of my cassette recorder as I took my audio notes.  Old habits die hard; need to get a digital recorder at least, tapes are getting harder to find.  Still don’t’ like those smartphones; hard to use when you don’t have blood pumping through your veins and can’t leave a fingerprint to access them; old Nokia still works well enough, though, gets the job done, anyway.

Victim was male, likely mid to late twenties, upper body disrobed and showing obvious signs of extreme torture, flesh missing in several spots along torso.  Unidentifiable as his face and scalp had been removed, peeled, possibly intact, no ID on the body. Ligature marks on wrists, ankles, and waist.  Old scarring in other places, likely a whip or severe flogging, fetish-related, piercings in his nipples still in place in spite of multiple fresh lacerations to torso; lower body covered by leather pants and wearing combat boots, some blood stains, but no signs of having been removed and redressed.  Little blood at dump site.  No obvious bite marks, but definitely drained, likely through the wounds, since there was little in the way of blood to pool in the body.  Figure it had been there at least a day. 

Noticed an ink stamp on his right hand, looked like some kind of spider superimposed over a web that looked like some kind of circuitry pattern, still clearly visible.  When I asked, Walsh said it was from a club not too far from the site, called the Cyber Spider, raver hangout with some heavy kink on the side for good measure.  He pretty much spit it at me; it’s a hangout for Kindred, ran by one as I’d soon discover.  Wasn’t much else of use at the scene as far as I was concerned, other minor details are in my case notes, at any rate.

As I was about to ask Walsh about prior victims, we got some unexpected camera flashes.  Local media had shown up asking about the killing.  From the heated conversation between her and Walsh, they were well-acquainted.  Delia Emmerson was her name, worked for one of the tabloids; figure she was too far on the edge to be a legit corpo reporter.  I figured I would undoubtedly cross paths with her again, because she asked specifically if this was another “blood sucker” killing.  Will deal with her later on, though, after I had a chance to learn what she knew about us vampires; had other leads to look into for now.  As I slipped away, heard her asking Walsh about his new partner, but nobody had noticed that I’d gone till they turned their attention back to where I had just been. 

I had a club to visit, even if I wasn’t dressed for the crowd.”