Category: Person

#Lore24 – Entry #192 – Supers Month II #11 – A Timely Meeting with Chrona Tempora Quanta

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

I found out not long after we’d cleared out that demon that our actions were bein’ watched by more powers than what we figured on.  Or at least, mine in particular were, cause Richard and Assane were already spoken for, so to speak.  As we continued on to the northwest through them Black Hills, a couple days after we’d recovered from our demon-slayin’ and I’d restocked my supplies with some ammunition from the dead town, which, ironically enough, Richard would send off with a proper funeral pyre, I began to hear this callin’ in my head.  It weren’t like nothin’ I’d experienced before.  I knew it was a voice reachin’ out to me, and I suddenly knew exactly where to go.

So, I led the way, and soon enough, we’d spotted what later came to be called Devil’s Tower by the majority of folk, loomin’ up in the distance, and even this far away, I could sense the power of the place.  It was an ancient place, the kind that many people over the centuries and eons had used for various rituals and magics and interdimensional travel and the like, and here it was that someone was callin’ me to it.  I’d told Richard and Assane about the call, and they’d told me to trust it, cause they were pretty sure they knew who it was, but it was up to me to answer it or not.

So, me an’ Asher rode on, the genies followin’ behind, though they’d wind up waitin’ for me at the base of the tower.  Usin’ one of the tricks I’d learnt from my companions, I spurred Asher on right up the side of that tower, and we rode to the very top.  I weren’t sure exactly what I’d expected to find up there, but I could feel the warp in reality as I traveled upward.  Atop the tower I passed through a cloakin’ spell like nothin’ I’d ever experienced before, and then, as I topped the rise, passed through the dimensional barrier.  In an instant, I found myself ridin’ down an ancient stone pathway, through a garden filled with strange plants and scents I didn’t recognize but surrounded by a strange sense of calmness and serenity.  Loomin’ up beyond the garden was a massive castle, or something like a castle, huge and ancient and radiating power the likes of which I’d never seen before.

There was a pond at the center of this garden, and waitin’ for me by it was a lady dressed up in some fancy duds, stuff I thought might’ve come out of England, but, bein’ the uneducated sort I was back then, were actually a whole lot older.

This lady introduced herself as Chrona Tempora Quanta, head of the Order of Hecate.  I was not exactly sure what any of that was, nor had I heard a name like that before, but I introduced myself in turn once I was dismounted.  I certainly felt small then, but in spite of the distance of her nature, Chrona put me at ease soon enough.  She said that she’d been watching me for some time, since I’d decided to get involved in that affair with the dogmen near Bowling Green, in fact, and had approved of what it was I was doin’ with my time.  She was rather amused at my choice of traveling companions, though when she called them children, I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.  Course, I didn’t know Chrona’s nature, nor her type of magic then, so it wouldn’t be for some time that I’d get what she meant.

She told me all about the Order of Hecate then, and had I not known magic myself, I’d have called her a loon, but somehow the idea of an ancient order of mages that existed on the boundaries between our world and the many beyond it seemed a good thing.  I would have much to learn, certainly, but with my aid in banishing the demon, I’d more than proven myself to join up with them.  She told me then that there would be lean times comin’ as far as magic was concerned in our world, and that, for a good while, I’d be the last recruit the Order would have, but that I’d always have a home with them, and could learn more about magic and how to hone my own in ways I’d never considered before.  And, if I wanted, I could continue doing the good work back on Earth for a while longer, cause she got the impression I weren’t quite done seein’ what the place had to offer.

It was a lot to take in, but the more questions I asked, and the more she told me, the more I knew I’d found myself a place to belong.  We must’ve talked for hours, but never did time seem to pass, and given what I’d learn about Chrona, that was no surprise.  But, after that good long chat, she bid me and Asher to follow along so that she could introduce me to the rest of the order and get me all settled in.

#Lore24 – Entry #188 – Supers Month II #7 – Conversations on the Trails into the West

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

Once I’d calmed myself down and gotten over my shock at seein’ the pair alive and kickin’, I was of a mind that they were out to get revenge on me for it.  But that weren’t the case, cause neither of them held a grudge, even admitted to havin’ died plenty of times before.  I’ll admit, that one threw me a bit.  So, I took a seat and started askin’ the tough questions. 

They weren’t shy ‘bout talkin’ to me ‘bout themselves, since I already knew they weren’t what you’d call “human”.  Turns out they were only half-human, the other half bein’ genie.  Found that one hard to believe, but they was dead serious ‘bout it, and they’d been around for centuries.  Back when the great mage Scheherazade (always thought she was just a character in them “Arabian Nights” stories till I met these two) had first whipped up the true genies, breedin’ was one of the first things humanity felt they had to do with ‘em.  Here I thought modern times was right indecent in that way, but turns out, ain’t nothin’ had really changed.  So, they was amongst the first of the half-genie children that were made, and some of the few still roamin’ around on Earth.  They had taken up the duty of guarding the planet, they told me, from all kinds of supernatural evils and the like. 

You could say I was doubtful, but that would puttin’ it mildly given what I’d seen the two get up to in the town they’d very nearly destroyed.  That they shrugged off as just one of their “little arguments”.  They’d been huntin’ a particular vampire that had been roamin’ the town, they said, one with a taste for children, so Assane had gone and changed up her appearance to that of a child as bait.  When the deed was done and the vampire was dusted, she’d decided to stay that way for a bit, and this got Richard all riled up cause he thought she wasn’t attractive when she looked that way, and then it had spiraled out of control, she’d gotten drunk, lost control of herself for a few days, and then the rest was as I explained it earlier.

Apparently when you live forever, time don’t mean much, so what’s a few days or weeks in a drunken stupor? 

Anyway, they’d been married early on, sometime during the Crusades I reckon, though I don’t rightly know which one, both bein’ of royal blood and all.  And apparently, they’ve been causin’ trouble all over the world ever since, whenever they get into arguments or if they ain’t too careful in who they cozy up with.  Turns out these two might’ve been responsible, well, more or less, for more than one tragedy one the centuries, but that ain’t a story I’m tellin’ here; you want to know, you ask them about it.

With them revelations out in the open, I started askin’ them ‘bout how they did their magic, cause it was a good ways beyond what I could manage back then.  Turns out most of their powers came natural to them, given that they’re elementals to some extent, given their genie heritage and all, though they’d learned plenty of spells and rituals beyond what their elemental nature let them do.  I got the impression they felt I was about as capable as a newborn babe on the scale of our magic talents, but I ‘spose they saw somethin’ in me, cause as we’d travel further on, they’d teach me plenty that Granny Opal had never even imagined, or at least, had never bothered to mention.

After ridin’ down the Mississippi for a while, we disembarked in St. Louis and started headin’ west.  We didn’t have much in the way of a goal at first, cause all of us were curious to see the new side of the country that had opened up, and to get away from the nastiness that followed the war.  They hadn’t been in America too awful long themselves, just a few decades, and most of that was spent on the east coast.

Turns out there was plenty of things to keep us busy out there.  My eyes were opened up to all kinds of things I had only thought of as fanciful stories or myth till I started hangin’ round these two.  First night in St. Louis we wound up takin’ down another bunch of vampires (they just love the city life, good food supply), and it weren’t a week later we were trackin’ down a right ornery bunch of werewolves that were terrorizin’ the people travellin’ out west.  For all their rash behavior and dang near childlike antics at times, they were mighty impressive to watch when they worked.  They’d always try to make introductions and handle things peaceable, even when we came up on that pack of werewolves while they was in the middle of eatin’ their most recent kills.  Basically the choice was to get the hell out of this world and off to another one, or die where they was standin’, and bein’ pretty sure of themselves, lackin’ proper arcane trainin’ and all, they had no clue what they was facin’.  Guess the ways of the Old World weren’t so well known in these parts.

And so things went for the better part of the winter months that year, more or less without misfortune, movin’ on from one town to another on the trail of some maneater or troublesome fey or some cult doin’ magic they had no business delvin’ in, the kind dealin’ with elder bein’s from beyond, that kinda foul thing.  I had to act as mediator between the two half-genies a few times, and they’d manage to rope me into some rather…intimate affairs I ain’t gonna speak of here.  They’re nothin’ if not passionate, I’ll say that. 

Our good deeds wouldn’t go unnoticed, though, and soon enough we’d find ourselves bein’ the ones that were getting’ hunted.

#Lore24 – Entry #187 – Supers Month II #6 – Burning Passions, Burning Buildings

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

Havin’ suffered the loss of my family as I had, and then spendin’ the last few years mostly alone in the hills talkin’ to Granny Opal and our familiars, I weren’t in no position to be offerin’ no shoulder to cry on.  Not that I could really know how to comfort whatever this woman was; I knew she weren’t exactly human by then.  I finally managed to find my voice again when I felt the prickle of ice on my skin, even through my wards, and realized she was colder than the wintery cemetery was, yet not a bit of ice stuck to her. 

She looked a mite embarrassed when she realized what she was doin’, and picked herself up, wiping at her tears, which were somehow stayin’ wet in the frigid air.  She went and sat on some poor feller’s tomb and cried some more but told me about how she’d had a fight with her husband, gotten a little drunk, and needed to be alone for a while.  Course, that sounded right normal to me, and not a word of it explained why I was standin’ in near two feet of snow in October.  Still on edge, and waitin’ for an attack of some kind, I cautiously leaned up against one of the tall, statuesque grave markers and asked her blunt-like what she was tryin’ to hide, what she was, and what she was doin’ with the weather.

It was almost like she hadn’t even realized she’d been controllin’ it then, given that look on her face.  I will admit, that was one of the few times I ever saw Assane embarrassed by the things she did.  Almost at once the cold eased around her, and the wind started to die down, though it’d take another couple of days for the cold to clear up altogether and get back to a more seasonable climate.  She collected herself from there, using a quick burst of magic to gussy up her appearance and change her clothes into somethin’ that looked more fitting for the cold.  Certainly, she was more talented with the arts than I was, cause I’d never seen the like from Granny Opal’s teachin’s. 

‘Fore I knew it, we was headed back into town proper like, her ridin’ with me on Asher.  He weren’t havin’ no trouble in the heavy snow, even with the both of us, given the little magical tricks he’d used all on his own.  By evenin’, we were sittin’ down for a proper meal at the hotel, and I was tryin’ to learn more about her, though she was bein’ just as curious ‘bout me, always leadin’ the conversation off herself and back to me.

It was durin’ our little sparrin’ match that her husband Richard would show up, and my fate were sealed.  I’d almost got her to spill the beans ‘bout what she was when her face darkened and I felt the air go cold ‘round us, her eyes a lookin’ to the doorway.  Again, I won’t be sayin’ much ‘bout appearances, cause those meant little to these two, but Richard was comin’ in like all was forgiven, but she weren’t havin’ none of it.  Weren’t long before the two were standin’ right in the middle of the restaurant and yellin’ at one another.  Didn’t take me long to figure why, cause I was lookin’ him over with my mystic sight and found the same odd nature I’d seen with Assane, only he was pure fire instead of solid ice.

Now, I never claimed to understand just how love works, nor how opposites attract; works for magnets, guess it worked for these two, but damn, they can be trouble when they get riled up.  Kinda put me in mind of a couple a spoilt children after a while.  Couldn’t have known then how right I was on that one…  Anyhow, before I knew it, Assane had slapped the shit outta Richard, and he slapped right back, then the two was a brawlin’ right there in the floor.  There was a right ton of onlookers, downright mortified most of them, cause this weren’t no proper behavior for a lady nor a gent. 

I saw the magic bubblin’ up from the pair right before it exploded, before I could do much about it.  Fire burst outta him, and ice came outta her, uncontrolled, wild, like their brand of love, I guess.  Next thing I knew, people was runnin’ and screamin’, the buildin’ was a burnin’ on one side and froze solid on the other.  Worse, the two had found their way out onto the street, and their magic was a spreadin’ all over the street.  I weren’t equipped for this kinda thing, cause I hadn’t learnt no magic that could hope to stand up to their power yet, so I just did what I could to try and get people outta harms way. 

They were like a force of nature at this point, and though it might’ve been less, I woulnd’t have been surprised if a quarter of the city was either burning or froze up.  People had already been hurt, but there weren’t nobody else who could deal with the two, so I had to make a tough choice then.  I didn’t like killin’, but I weren’t about to see a bunch of innocents get killed over a lovers’ quarrel, so Asher and I rode up after then.  I tried to reason with them, but they weren’t hearin’ none of it, even flung fire and ice my way when I got too close.  As much as I hated to, I unloaded my six-shooter into them. 

I think they were probably just as surprised by it as I was, but my improved magic bullets did the job, and the two fell dead in each other’s arms, all tragic romance like. 

I didn’t linger longer than I had to after that.  I did what I could to help fight the fires, and after a long night, I avoided the hard questions that were a stirrin’ in town and hit the first boat bound down the Ohio River, a bit shellshocked at havin’ to kill a pair like that. 

I was sleepin’ real sound from sheer exhaustion after that in my tiny cabin.  I’d gone to bed alone, Asher up on deck with the other horses, so when I awoke later on in the day, I was right surprised to discover I weren’t the only one in the bed.  I must’ve squealed right loud when I realized I had two people pressed up on either side of me, but I was even more surprised when I’d hopped out of bed and realized who they was. 

I’d gunned the pair down myself the night before, but here they was, grinnin’ at me just as alive as they had been the night before durin’ their spat, though they looked completely different now, aside from what I saw of their true forms with my mystic sight. 

“We like you; you’ve got guts, kid,” Richard had said, flashin’ a smooth smile at me.  “How about we get to know each other properly?”

I should’ve refused the offer.  Lord only knows why I didn’t.

#Lore24 – Entry #186 – Supers Month II #5 – Winter Comes Early in Louisville

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

After that hot summer down in Franklin, and a little more time spent in the surroundin’ area to make sure no more of them mongrels were lurkin’ about, I eventually drifted up north, and into Louisville.  It just so happened that fall was comin’ on hard by then, and when I say hard, I mean winter hard.  There was a cold snap came in, and it was downright wintery up there, and it was barely halfway through October; had snow in the air and everything.  Asher pointed it out to me first off:  that weren’t no natural weather pattern what had come in; it was magical.  I was downright impressed with the scale they’d managed to change up the weather, but then I started wonderin’ exactly why whoever was responsible for it had done it.  Didn’t make no sense at first glance, ‘ceptin’ to make things harder on the folk ‘round the city, till I got to thinkin’ about some of Granny Opal’s stories and lectures.  Looked like I had another monster runnin’ around to deal with, some kinda feyfolk or, Lord forbid, a wendigo.

Well, as I would soon learn, I weren’t to have no such good luck.

I restocked my supplies and got me some winter clothes first off, checked into a hotel for the first time in a good while and started to get a feel for Louisville and the arcane flows that were messin’ with the weather.  The flows of magic weren’t like anything I’d seen before.  They were subtle, mostly hidden, but stronger than anything I’d encountered before, like a true master of the arcane had formed them.  As I was tracin’ them out and lookin’ for a source, I began to wonder if I was steppin’ in on the territory of some witch more powerful than Granny Opal, cause I’d never seen even her make somethin’ like this. 

So, after a few days trudgin’ round in the freezin’ weather, with snow startin’ to pile up, I finally managed to trace down the source, which was in the Cave Hill Cemetery.  Once I’d worked out the nature of the flows, it was like a vortex swirlin’ around the place, and a cold one at that.  I was wrackin’ my brain tryin’ to figure out what could be lurkin’ in there that could be controllin’ the weather like that, what kinda creature could or would do it.

Well, when Asher and I finally made our way in, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, so I had insulated myself against cold magic and had some fiery surprises in store for whatever it was.  What I didn’t expect to find was a beautiful woman wearing a rather scandalous dress for the time, the kind you’d see in a brothel, even if it was colored more like something befitting a funeral, moping about amongst the graves, not affected in the slightest by the wintery weather.  Won’t say much about her looks here, cause, as I’d learn, how she looks from one time to another don’t much matter.  She hadn’t noticed me as I approached, too deep in her melancholy, and I strained to get a read on what she was.  She looked human at first, and for the longest time, I thought she was, but once I’d had a good long look at her with my mystic sight, I finally pierced the magic that was around her; there was a spell up to keep her from being noticed, one I’d used myself plenty of times, but there was somethin’ extra about her appearance. 

But it weren’t no illusion she wore.  I wasn’t even sure what I’d seen even then, cause what I saw didn’t make no sense to me.  It was like I saw two overlapping images that were at once the same being; one the human woman, the other a woman composed entirely of elemental ice and cold, both bound together by something else I just couldn’t put my finger on.  She must’ve finally felt my eyes on her, cause she whipped around suddenly, and the air got even colder somehow, pressing down on my wards against it like an avalanche rolling down a mountain; it was all I could do to hold them in place.  Even Asher got anxious, dancing about a bit despite himself.

She didn’t attack me outright, though, seemed more startled that I’d spotted her, really.  We stared at one another for several minutes I think, not sure what to make of one another.  I sensed her mystic sight upon me as she looked me over and saw her look of puzzlement.  Finally, I broke the ice, so to speak, and introduced myself, and that I was just inquirin’ as to why she felt the need to turn the Louisville area into a winter wonderland, and if there were anything I could do to help her out. 

Lookin’ back on it now, I suppose that was one of the biggest mistakes I could’ve made.

Before I knew it, she had burst into tears and was on her knees in the snow, cryin’ her eyes out about her lover and her getting’ into a big fight, and before I knew it, I was down there tryin’ to comfort her.  Finally got a name out of her, and it was a weird one for Kentucky to be sure, Assane.  Sounded foreign, just couldn’t guess which kinda foreign back then, not that I would’ve ever guessed it right anyway.

I certainly had no idea what was happenin’ right then, nor could I have understood exactly what I’d just stepped into, but the next few years would be one hell of a ride.

#Lore24 – Entry #182 – Supers Month II #1 – An Awakenin’ Magic

From the journal of Abigail “Sassy” Dawson, Mage of the Order of Hecate

I weren’t raised for no book learnin’, and I never figured I’d ever be writin’ this stuff down, but I guess things in life don’t always go how you figured they would.  Since I joined up with the Order, I’ve been asked by Chrona to write out some details ‘bout my past and start keepin’ a record of things, so here we are, I guess.

I was raised up in the hills of Kentucky, over on the eastern part, in a good-sized family, the hard workin’ kind that took care of a large spread up in those hills, tendin’ to the plantin’ and raisin’ animals and such, though my paw always wanted to get a proper horse farm a goin’.  Back then, I had three brothers and a sister, and though we weren’t ever what you’d call “rich”, we lived pretty good.  Weren’t nothin’ really stood out about my early life too much, ‘cept my way with horses, I suppose.  I was always good with them, could “whisper” to’em as I heard it called back then, always knew what they were a thinkin’ and how to get’em to do whatever it was I need’em to do when nobody else could.  Put my big brothers to shame a time or two, I reckon, when none of them could break a particularly spirited horse to saddle, and I could just walk up to’em and speak a few things and they’d let me on’em just as pretty as you please.

‘Course, that was before the War Between the States done got started up, and everythin’ went to Hell.  We was in a border state, so weren’t never nothin’ easy back then.  Always had to walk on eggshells ‘round people who had been close friends back then, and there was always a sense of paranoia around.  Well, things went bad for my family back then, what with my brothers signin’ up and joinin’ the Confederacy along with most everyone else ‘round the hometown.  Won’t be speakin’ much of the details ‘bout then first couple years, just a bit too personal.  It’s what came later on that matters here, cause that’s when I really opened up my gates and experienced my magic for the first time, outside of what I was doin’ with the horses.

Well, as it was, the war went just about everywhere back then, so course, it had to come home eventually.  Weren’t good to learn that two of my brothers had gotten killed, put maw and my sister and me in a right bad state when my last brother rode in damn near dead from gunshot wounds that night.  Course, we didn’t have much time to grieve or register what was really goin’ down, cause weren’t too long before that Union detachment rode up, hot on the trail of my brother.  They was lead by one of our neighbors’ sons, one who I’d been sweet on once, show’d ‘em right where we were. 

Things got…violent, then.  Words were said, voices raised, and before we knew it the shootin’ started.  I weren’t too bad with a gun back then, cause I’d been raised with’em and had to start helpin’ with the huntin’ and such, not near as good as I am now, so I don’t think some of them soldiers were expectin’ it when me and my sis fought back too.  Well, that didn’t last, cause we weren’t no trained soldiers, and they had us outnumbered by a good many.  I don’t rightly recall how exactly it all went down, just remember that my paw and maw and brother were dead, my sis was dyin’ from a shot to her gut, and I had a bullet in my arm. 

As them soldiers came inside on us, the things they said, the outright hate they were a spewin’ at us, and the things they tried to do to me…well, something done broke inside me then.  It was like a dam just exploded then, and I felt my first real taste of magic just wellin’ up inside of me as all my anger and sorrow gushed out.  I remember them soldiers who were hasslin’ my sis went first, just exploded all over the place like nothin’ I’d ever seen before.  The rest…well, it was pure chaos.  Fire, ice, stuff I’m not so sure what it was, all of it went through them Union men and spread over the homestead, but specifics are lackin’ in my mind.

After it was all said and done, I remember churnin’ up the earth and buryin’ my family after that, like that magic flow was doin’ whatever I wanted it too at the time, then remember staggerin’ off into the woods, but don’t recall how exactly I wound up where I did after that, cause all that magic what came outta me left me drained.  Reckon it was a week later when I finally woke up, not as dead as I woulda figured on bein’, in an unfamiliar cabin a good ways off from the old homeplace, no idea how I’d wound up there.

 

#Lore24 – Entry #152 – Muckenmyre Month #31 – Dawning of a New Spring and a New Life

From the journal of Takara, Free Kerryn, the Gray Matron of Grimbridge, Justicar Initiate of Lashana

As the new spring dawned upon Grimbridge, so too would I resolve myself to take a new path.  I had had ample time to consider my life in the Empire and all that I had learned since I was taken from its grasp.  There is much that I have not written within this journal, for its pages are nearly gone, and surely only a keeper in the Great Library could hope to keep up with the pace of all the thoughts that have been battling in my mind these past months.  So, as this journal reaches its end, so too shall this part of my life.

I have spoken with my dearest friend Satella at length of what comes next and have likewise spoken with the people of Grimbridge, whom I will always treasure as friends and allies, of my future.  As I sit atop the lighthouse’s upper deck writing this entry, looking out over the sea that delivered me to Grimbridge, bathed in the warm spring sun, I can say that I have settled my mind on many things.  Much of the conflict within me has been resolved, though I think some will always remain, for I can never forget my upbringing, my time as a slave, a slave trainer, and as an inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.  They have shaped me, for better or worse, and it is the knowledge and life experiences that I had during my life in the Empire that has helped me come to the decision I have committed to now.

I held my collar and cuffs, markers of my slavery, for the first time in many weeks today, and brought them atop the lighthouse with me.  I can recall there being a time that I wished for them to be whole again, to feel their unrelenting bite at my neck and upon my wrists, to once again be where I thought I belonged. 

Now, having considered at length what I believe in my heart, it was with no hesitation that I cast them into the sea and forever out of my life.  Satella and I removed my slave brand and the mark of the Stellae Illustris earlier this morning.  I hereby resolve myself to never again accept the Empire into my heart, for all that it has taught to my people are lies, and all it has given us is slavery and suffering.  I will do everything in my power to see to it that this injustice is rectified, though I fully understand that this is a long and dangerous road I place myself upon.

I will not be alone in this, however.  Satella will be traveling with me once we leave Grimbridge, her path aligning with mine for the foreseeable future, for she tells me that Yurisaya has taken interest in our new quest.  Furthermore, I now have something I’d never known before…faith of my own in a greater power, not just a man sitting on a throne or the system of control he represents.  I have accepted Lashana into my heart, and I can feel what could only be the goddess herself resonating there, perhaps even with my very soul.  Upon our return to Ryanathyr, I will dedicate myself to her service as a Justicar Initiate, taking her oaths, and seeking vengeance for the great injustice that was done to my people and our fallen goddess.

Though the task of bringing down an entire Empire is nigh insurmountable, I can say that I have faith that it is one that will not be in vain, however long it may take.  I know there are other groups seeking to rebel within the Empire’s borders, and I am sure there are others who seek to end their dominance from without.  Further, I am aware of certain secrets that may be useful in the future…not just of the inner workings of the Empire, but some of its darker secrets.  Should she have survived the ordeal that was placed before her intact, and could be located, Vanessa Res’Taringal may yet still live, and having her voice heard once again may well stir future resistance.

But that is for much later, perhaps many years in the future.  For now, I will say my goodbyes to my friends in Grimbridge, though perhaps not forever, and will begin my new journey.  Following my initiation into Lashana’s faith, I hope to join with the Nakao clan as they return this way and travel to new places, to learn more of their ways and of our people, to make new friends and allies along the way, perhaps all the way to the great city of Arcavarlon.  I know not how I will get there, but I will eventually return to the shores of the Empire, never again as a slave, and I will not be alone when I arrive there.

For all that I have experienced in my life, I feel as though my journey is only just beginning, and I couldn’t be happier at this very moment to begin to discover what my future will hold, the least of which being a new journal, purchased with the money I have earned for myself.  

Truly, I am liberated in my heart and soul.

#Lore24 – Entry #151 – Muckenmyre Month #30 – Winter in Grimbridge

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris, Town Marshal of Grimbridge.

The first couple of weeks following my return to Grimbridge were fairly calm, giving me some time to study the teachings of Lashana I had been given.  Though not a complete delve into the goddess’s doctrines, the book served as an excellent introduction to her ways, and contained the church’s view on the events surrounding the Great Cataclysm, and the nature of the lies surrounding it.  I still questioned the truth, of course, knowing that everyone who spoke of the matter had their own viewpoints and agendas to consider.  However, I did find her ways appealing, given my own tendency toward strong discipline, and her pursuit of justice and rightful vengeance resonated even more.  During my free time, I would begin learning more of Lashana’s ways, and of the other gods in general, speaking with those of the faiths, or reading what books I could find on them.

Unsurprisingly by now, there were more differences taught, even amongst the faithful of the gods, in the Empire. 

Though we had intended to find lodgings for ourselves, Mayor Pleasence, in his stern way, insisted that we continue lodging with him during the winter at least; I believe he was quite fond of having someone cooking and maintaining the home while he was busy with town business.  Satella continued her work as a cook and part-time healer, for those who could stand her goddess’s particular form of healing.

As promised by the constable, things did indeed pick up as the winter settled in.  More and more ships began to arrive, offloading goods along the Way instead of the rougher and often icy seas to the north, and troubles in the town began to escalate.  Sailors being what they are, there were plenty of scuffles on the docks and at the Bloated Floater, arguments on prices and quality of items, or just general attempts to bully the townsfolk.  As agreed between myself and Constable Tamblyn, we would tolerate none of it, nor would any of the town guard.  Some days went better than others, with my mere presence and a warning gaze enough to calm matters, but often there were fights I had to become involved in.  Though I always waited for the offending outsiders to start the fights with me, jumping in without thought to those that had started when I wasn’t present, I saw to it that I was the one who finished them, most often in ways that would leave the offenders in agony, and any companions of them hesitant, if not outright afraid, to try something on their own.  Satella would find no shortage of customers during the busiest of times, for the other healers in town would typically refuse to heal those who had been taught a lesson from me as a lesson of their own.

Somehow, I eventually earned a reputation and a name for myself in Grimbridge, the Gray Matron.  I was known for my harsh lessons, the pain I inflicted teaching lessons like no scholar could, but also for my willingness to see to it that the law was upheld to the letter, or as closely as possible given certain discretionary judgements rendered by the constable or the town, of course.  Though Lashana is strict on interpretation and application of the law, she is not without consideration for circumstances that may lead some to stray from the straight and narrow.  I had found myself trying to live up to her doctrines more and more as the winter continued, and though my thoughts were still drifting over the vast sea toward the Empire, they were doing so less and less; I barely took out my collar and cuffs to tend to them anymore, feeling guilty when I did, but also ashamed of my past.

As the winter continued, things would settle down in Grimbridge to some extent.  My reputation, and that of the town for taking a no-nonsense approach to outsiders causing trouble had grown, and for the most part, usually aside from drunken sailors getting into brawls, things were calm.  Jessiryn and Augra would earn quite a haul themselves during this time, as they would often escort trade caravans through the Way to Ryanthyr, though we saw little of each other.

Eventually, though, the cool of the winter months would fade, the fresh and warmer air of spring would begin to appear.  As the weather improved, the rush of activity the winter had brought to the docks would begin to fade, and so to would I find more and more time to consider where my path would lead me.

#Lore24 – Entry #144 – Muckenmyre Month #23 – Conversations Along the Way

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris, Town Marshal of Grimbridge.

I took it upon myself to oversee the care of the twins while they were being held in front of the jail before transporting them out of town, giving them some relief from their bonds during meals and for a couple of periods of exercise during the day, though keeping them shackled with arms and fingers bound tightly together behind them.  I did not trust that their charms were entirely arcane in nature, as some mazoku have the ability to perform such magics with but their voice, so I prevented any ungagged speech with swift, painful discipline.  It seems they are capable of learning, however many times it took them to finally grasp the lesson I taught.

It was quite the procession that left Grimbridge early one morning, the two prison carts loaded with chained bandits, one twin in each, the merchants’ new wagons, one for the town guards and constable who would be making the journey to Ryanathyr, and several others riding on horseback for the trip, myself, Satella, Augra and Jessiryn, and the trio of freed prisoners as well.  If nothing else, it seems that the people of Grimbridge do nothing halfheartedly.  Though rain would be frequent during our travels, the route along the Grimbridge Way was pleasant enough, whatever weariness we had from the road eased with the line of wayfare inns spaced exactly as required along the route to provide rest at the end of each day.

I would finally learn of the nature of the noblewoman, her maidservant, and their would be mazoku protector during our journey, and would come to understand that the mistrust of the mazoku was not uncommon on this side of the world, whereas initially I had thought it simply the nature of the twins that had provoked such treatment upon them.  During our first night of rest at Izel’s inn, Ashley Lohengrin introduced himself to us as we finished dinner, expressing his thanks for our actions in freeing his charges and himself from the bandits, extending us a debt of honor that he would vow to fulfil.

As we spoke with Ashley, he revealed that he was of noble birth, and trained as a knight (I had already picked up on his excellent horsemanship and insistence upon respectful behavior, especially to women, during our time in town and along the road), though he was a bastard child, and shunned by much of noble society due to his nature.  It was here that I learned that mazoku were seen as demon-tainted and untrustworthy by many in this land, a reminder of those foul creatures that brought the Great Cataclysm.  He was of the opinion that it was the elves that had been responsible for spreading such tales, for most mazoku were simply trying to live like anyone else, and were unfairly judged based on appearances alone, though the behavior of certain members of the race like the twins had done little to disprove such lies.  It was this distrust that the Lady Azenora Glanndour, whom he had promised to rescue and chased into the swamp, despised him so; she had it in her head that a proper knight and hero should be beautiful and trustworthy, not a demon-spawned outcast noble.  It was the reason she barely tolerated his presence, and only for as long as it took for her to be returned to her home.

It was a curious observation that the Lady Glanndour saw Ashley as unsavory to look upon, for I thought him quite attractive by most standards within the Empire; I had seen many high-ranking mazolu back home that looked far closer to their demonic heritage than he.  His features were decidedly feminine, as we had seen in great detail during our sneaking through the old fort’s prison, delicate and soft, his voice likewise sounding as a would a young woman’s.  His skin was of a paler blue hue than that of Chastity, his pink hair long and tied in a thick braid, his eyes a more common reddish-orange hue, while his horns were smaller than those of the twins, curving upward from his forehead, his pointed ears indicating possible elven blood in him as well.

I found it curious that his kind were treated in such a way here, whereas the mazoku were just as able to succeed as anyone else in the Empire save the kerryn slaves; I knew of at least three prominent senators and two high ranking generals who were of mazoku lineage.  During the course of our conversations along the journey, I would tell him of the mazoku within the Empire, of how there was little in the way of prejudice against them there, and of some examples I had encountered there.  Our discussions would also turn to the nature of the kerryn within the Empire, and I would relate to him the nature of our slavery, of our penance for breaking the world.  This seemed to upset him greatly, and he would tell me much that I would ponder for some time to come, of the kerryn he knew here, the nomadic people who travelled freely, of those who held great power within the cities, of those who openly defied the lies the elves spread of them.  It seemed fanciful to me, and having not met another kerryn during my time upon these shores, I could not say that I believed what it was he told me, though I sensed no deception within his words; admittedly I found the ideas…appealing.  It was with some shame that I admit this, for my thoughts have been straying greatly from those appropriate for a slave of my position.

My conversations with Ashley seemed to have put me in contempt of the noblewoman, though.  My conversations with her could hardly be called such, for she obviously had little intention of speaking to me or anyone else, relying upon Enora, her servant, for most things, though curiously I did notice that she kept looking at Jessiryn during the journey in a manner that suggested attraction.  I certainly bear no ill-will on her decision to treat me so, as it befits her noble status, and I am but a humble slave, after all.  Or at least, I’m trying to be; my thoughts and actions are making me question things that I should not question.

Though focused upon my duties to Grimbridge, my thoughts would only grow more muddled and harder for me to understand once we reached Ryanathyr.

#Lore24 – Entry #142 – Muckenmyre Month #21 – Tied and Tormented Twin Twats from Tempest Tor

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris, Town Marshal of Grimbridge.

I finished my task quickly, ignoring the pleas for mercy from the twins as I bound them, one at a time.  I was not gentle with them, for they had caused disruption in Grimbridge, aided the bandits, and forced us into the swamp after them.  I gave each a demonstration of the pain-causing techniques I knew so well, making them squeal when they resisted me.  This would not be the last time they would suffer such pains, for they would prove quite insistent on trying to free themselves during our return trip to the town.

Once finished, the twins were bound identically, somehow fitting I think, stripped of their scant clothing and gagged with makeshift wooden bits and hogtied in the most extreme way I could manage, forcing their bodies to bend to their limit, even going so far as to bind their big toes together as well as fashion a tight web of leather strings over their breasts and chests, with a similarly tight binding between their legs and most sensitive areas.  I made sure that they would find no comfortable position to rest their bodies and took the extra precaution of binding their individual fingers together to further dissuade spellcasting.

I’m not certain if Ashleyr was impressed or unsettled; she remained neutral throughout, though she did thank me for the demonstration, and expressed her hopes that this would help to serve as a warning to outsiders not to meddle with the Muckenmyre.  I bowed to her and expressed my gratitude for her aid in their capture, and asked how I should get her portion of the reward to her, but she shook her head and told me that wouldn’t be needed, and I believe she thought it was amusing that I had showed her such deference.  She reopened the swirling portal and bid me to leap through first, seeing her vines rising once again to take hold of the bound twins.  I bowed to her and thanked her again, bid her farewell and received such sentiments in kind, then made my leap.

As I came through, once again upon the raised altar within the draconic temple, I heard Augra’s furious roar, and as my feet touched down, I saw her lifting Jaggedtusk over her head, saw blood streaming down her body from several wounds, and watched as she roughly slammed him first into the wall, and then upon the floor, firmly planting her booted foot against his neck and letting out a low growl, daring him to move again.  Jessiryn sat nearby, grimacing as Satella healed him.  He saw me first, and Satella turned toward me, her grin widening.  Behind me, the grasping vines brought the bound twins through the portal, depositing them atop the altar on either side of me, before they retreated and the maelstrom dissipated, the power draining from the room.

I quickly descended the platform and offered my apologies for my sudden departure, expressing that I would accept any punishment for my actions.  Satella assured me that they were fine, and Jessiryn said that I was only gone for perhaps half a minute.  I figured as much, given what I had witness with Augra finishing the fight.  Though I reiterated my need for punishment, Satella shushed me and Jessiryn didn’t seem to fully grasp what I was getting at, saying that there was no need once again, for I had managed to retrieve the prey that had brought us here to begin with.  I made a quick explanation of what happened, admitting that I didn’t understand exactly how so much time had passed for me but so little for them.

Augra refused Satella’s healing, indicating that her wounds were not bad, and true enough, she seemed to be moving fine, and her bleeding had mostly stopped already.  In short order, I bound Jaggedtusk, not as drastically as I had the twins, for he would be walking out ahead of us, though on a choking leash, and Augra retrieved the twins, carrying one under each arm, adding no comfort to their situation.

By the time we had returned to the surface, closing the hidden door behind us for good measure, Joseph and Abdel had freed the prisoners and found their clothing amongst the stolen goods, and had taken care of the task of retrieving ears from the dead bandits to prove their numbers.  I would learn more about them in the coming days, but it seemed that Jaggedtusk had kidnapped a noble and her maid, intending to hold them for ransom, and the mazoku had bravely led the guards after them, though an ambush had seen his men slain and him captured.  I could sense tension between the noble and the mazoku, though, repulsion on her part even, and knew there was more to the story, but will hold that for later.

We rested for an hour or so, me sharing Ashleyr’s gifts with my allies and the prisoners, and then we set about our task of loading the prisoners onto the flatboats, along with the most valuable of the stolen goods to return to the merchants.  It would take all six of the Grimbridge party to pilot the boats out, my first time doing such a thing, though I found the task not especially difficult.  Following Jessiryn and Augra, we made our way through the swamp, following the slow flow of the Crocodile Run, all the way back to Grimbridge, arriving in town around mid-morning.

Word spread fast as we were spotted coming into town, and by the time we had reached the docks nearest the Span, the mayor, the council, some of the merchants, and dozens of onlookers had swarmed us, the town abuzz with already wildly exaggerated stories of our deeds.  It was a strange experience for me, receiving such praise for what simply had to be done, but I will admit…it did feel good to be shown such gratitude.  Never in my time in the Empire had I been praised for hunting down my target like this.  I may have received a simple “Good work, slave” for my efforts, most of the time not even that, for it was simply my duty to do so. 

Working quickly with the constable and guard, we hauled our prisoners to the town jail, immediately overcrowding it, though we made special arrangements for the twins, who by now were whimpering in agony and begging to be freed behind their gags.  We would grant them some relief for now, placing them in heavy pillories set up outside the jail and securing them there with manacles and heavy chains, though I insisted on keeping their gags in place and their fingers bound, lest they manage to cast a spell of some kind. 

The rest of that day is something of a blur, for my party was hailed as heroes of the town for our actions, though neither myself, Jessiryn, or Augra were exactly comfortable being the center of attention; Satella took it all in stride, though, encouraging us to enjoy the moment.  I will admit, I did enjoy myself after a time, perhaps after the second drink I had of the local whiskey had started taking effect. 

I had never been allowed to indulge in such things before, not as a celebratory measure, anyway, though I had shared drink with my masters during my early days following my basic training in the arts of pleasure, before I was brought into the fold as an inquisitor.  Was it wrong of me to feel good about my actions, about my lack of control in those moments?  Was it wrong that I allowed myself to act as a free person would, to accept the kindness of Grimbridge once more?

I am rather ashamed to admit that my reservations would not last, and that I have little memory of what occurred after the third shot of the whiskey.  It looked like pure water, burned like fire, and went down so easily… I would only have true regret for my actions, whatever they might have been, the following morning, when I awoke in my bed in the mayor’s home, experiencing my first, and hopefully last, hangover.

#Lore24 – Entry #141 – Muckenmyre Month #20 – The Heart of the Swamp

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris, Town Marshal of Grimbridge.

I landed on the other side of the portal in a crouch, ready to strike at the twins who I assumed would be waiting for me. 

They were, just not in a way I had been prepared for.  Both of them were wound quite tightly in a mass of shifting, writhing vines, their bodies pressed closely to one another, a look of panic on their faces as the vines wound around their mouths, forcing them open.  I made to run from the vines myself, but in the next moment I realized they weren’t coming for me.

The air around me felt drastically different than it had moments ago.  Looking around, I saw that it was somehow now twilight, the bluish-purple light of a fading sun spreading over the trees around a large clearing.  Arrayed in a circular pattern around us were twenty-foot tall stones, worn smooth with age, but still clearly inscribed with faintly glowing runes, some draconic, others I did not recognize.  Though I felt some kind of power in the air, I could not identify its source, almost like a barely perceptible heartbeat, and perhaps even the slow, steady breathing, of some great, massive thing.

I actually jerked in surprise as a figure suddenly stood near us.  They weren’t there just moments before, and I hadn’t sensed their approach.  Glowing eyes regarded me warmly, and after my momentary shock had passed, I realized that I recognized the eyes.  It was Ashleyr, the swamp witch.  She didn’t wear her cloak now, so I could see her fully, saw that her skin was a sandy brown tone, with short black hair, her horns dark, curling around her slender face which wore a pleased smile.  Her clothes were simple linens, a shirt and pants also in earthy tones, though her feet were bare upon the lush mossy carpet we stood upon.

She welcomed me to the Heart of the Muckenmyre and bid me to follow her to a rather simple cabin nearby, the twins apparently forgotten for the time being.  I still could not get a scent off her, just the ever-present swampy scent.  I did pick up on several other odors as we approached, a few making my nose curl, and I saw a multitude of herbs hanging on a rack, saw the large cauldron bubbling with some strange-smelling brew, and Thornton the muskrat lounging nearby, chewing on some berries, his unnaturally astute eyes following us.  Ashleyr bid me to have a seat on the cabin’s porch while she went inside, coming back out with a wooden tray and matching cups filled with a sweet tea of some unfamiliar blend along with some freshly baked bread made with nuts and bananas.

Though I won’t relate all of the details of our conversation here, for it took what had to have been hours, though I couldn’t tell that any time had passed from the strange perpetual twilight, I will cover the most important details.  She had many questions about me and the lands of the Empire; having never seen them herself, she was quite curious, and unlikely to ever travel far beyond the borders of the swamp.  Then the conversation turned to myself, what it was I was doing chasing a couple of troublemakers into the Muckenmyre, what I was planning on doing now that I was technically no longer property.  I had no good answers for her, though she did give me plenty of things to consider later, when time permitted.  Though she appeared to me as being no older than the twins, Ashleyr was possessed of wisdom befitting an ancient sage, and for all I know of her, she may in fact be centuries old herself.

I felt no reason to hesitate when speaking to her, no suspicion of her motives besides simply seeking knowledge, and my own inquisitive nature could not resist asking questions of her in turn.  I inquired of the nature of Swamp Dragon Hold and the portal the twins had brought to life.  The true name of the site had been lost to time, for the Muckenmyre had not yet been born when it was constructed, and though the landscape had changed drastically following the Great Cataclysm, the draconic temple itself was mostly intact.  Based upon her studies of the portal device, she believed that it had once been able to link vast distances, perhaps to any point on Andyllion, or even realms beyond, but its power was now limited to the Muckenmyre, and only to its Heart when she and it permitted such a visit; she had simply allowed the twins to feed the portal their own energies when she sensed us amongst the ruins.  I could not get confirmation from her, but I had the impression that she knew of everyone and everything that ventured into the Muckenmyre’s borders, perhaps could even pinpoint them in some way.

The Heart of the Swamp itself was an ancient druidic ritual site that had somehow survived the Cataclysm and had been displaced when the land had changed beneath it.  It still retained its power, though now it was one with the swamp, and was still used by those with the proper knowledge and no intention of causing harm, or, at least, that was Ashelyr’s intention as the caretaker of the site.  She told me of the most sacred of times, correlating to the celestial alignments as many of the rituals and celebrations back in the Empire did, and of some of the most frequent druidic sects that visited the Heart. 

There was much more, but I will skip ahead to my departure from the Heart.  Once our conversation had died off, and I felt rested and refreshed, still a little disoriented since time seemed not to have passed, Ashleyr told me that she would be seeing me back to the dragon temple, back through the portal.  Before I would leave, she offered me a flask of tea for my companions as well as a wrapped loaf of sweetbread for them.  She also gave me a well-used leather satchel filled with some of her herbal concoctions for future use, in return for what she deemed “a most pleasant conversation”. 

Before returning to the circle, she also handed me several bundles of rope and thin leather strips.  When I inquired as to their purpose, she simply said that I would need some way to secure the twins, and that she was curious to see some of the prisoner restraint methods I had spoken of during our discussions.  What was a little more time in a place like this?