Category: Gaming

#Lore24 – Entry #147 – Muckenmyre Month #26 – The Truths We Are Taught

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

Immediately, my mind scrambled to come up with a proper report to my fellow Stellae Illustris, for surely they had come here seeking me, likely for dereliction of my duty and failure during my pursuit of the rebels.  I would be punished severely, of course, but it would be what was required after all, and perhaps, with enough time I could work my way back up to prove my loyalty to the Emperor and…

Then the parts of my brain that had been awakened to a different way of life began to assert themselves.  I finally realized Satella was trying to get my attention, asking me what was wrong, scanning the crowd for some undetected threat. 

Finally I focused on the source of the conversation.  It was odd that the Stellae Illustris would speak so openly in our secret tongue…and then I focused on the actual words that were being spoken.  It wasn’t some reprimand or command to me, rather a jovial conversation, recounting some part of a recent journey, the troubles with a wagon along the road, the sights that had been along the way.  My eyes fell upon the speakers, one of the humans, wearing the garb of a merchant, speaking to…a kerryn man wearing dusty travelers’ clothes in bright colors.  I watched in utter fascination at the casual nature of this conversation, at how they switched back to common after a few moments, the merchant clapping his friend on the back and leading him inside his shop, and slowly it dawned upon me a new truth.

I began to hear more snippets of the language being spoken, and I looked to the eastern part of the square, saw more kerryn in the nearest parts of the market, dressed in all manner of colors and styles, chatting amongst themselves, seemingly without a care in the world, easily switching back to the common tongue when they spoke with the merchants.

I managed to stammer a question to Satella, to make certain that the language they spoke was as I now suspected, and, with a look of absolute shock upon her face, she confirmed what had taken me so long to puzzle out.

It was not a secret tongue the Stellae Illustris spoke amongst themselves in their clandestine activities.

It was the kerryn tongue. 

It was a language that belonged to the kerryn!  We had our own language!

In all my life, such a thing had never even seemed a possibility, that we kerryn could ever have our own language.  I knew many tongues, certainly, for it was required during my normal slave training, but it wasn’t until I was formally accepted into the Stellae Illustris and proved my loyalty that I was taught their “secret” language, with its complex script and rapid speaking pace. 

Heart pounding in my chest, my mind unable to process anything for the moment, I staggered toward the inn, earning some puzzled looks from those who passed us on the street.  Satella, my dear friend, was there for me once again, taking hold of me and helping me to our shared room.  I cried then, pouring out some of the many decades of pain that had built up within me, holding onto her for dear life, any semblance of self-control I had possessed shattered. 

The Empire, and the long line of Emperors and all of those serving it, had taken our very language from us, had enslaved us and taught us that we were so much less than others within the Empire, that we could not be free, lest we break the world again.  We were allowed only the “freedoms” they permitted, had to be controlled and kept in line at all times.  If they could steal our language from us, erase all record of it save that which they would allow us to have once we had proved ourselves loyal enough…what else could they have taken?  What “truths” had we been given that were anything but? 

How much had truly been taken from us if our own language was now used against us, made a reward for the Stellae Illustris who would police our own kind?

It was late into the evening when I finally came to something that resembled my senses, or at least, had managed to stop bawling as I had been.  As I lay in the bed, curled up with my head in Satella’s lap, her fingers gently running through my hair and along my ears to comfort me, I heard more of my language in the air, this time in song, coming from the common room below, heard the jovial music that accompanied the singer’s voice. 

It was perhaps the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

Finally picking myself up, giving Satella another strong embrace and thanking her sincerely for her friendship, I resolved to learn more about my people.  I quickly washed my face and made some semblance of order with my appearance, and together we ventured downstairs.

#Lore24 – Entry #146 – Muckenmyre Month #25 – Inside the House of the Lady of Justice

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

Entering into the temple, I found the interior to be somewhat sparse and simple in decoration, seeing Lashana’s symbol on display prominently on the wall hangings, but the actual area of worship reminded me more of a court room, with several rows of simple benches for seating, a box not unlike that a judge would sit behind instead of a more typical pulpit, even tables set before it like those that would be used by two parties presenting their cases, though these were currently filled with unremarkable pewter and silver candle holders, bowls, and the like.  I could see a trial being held here, and later, I would learn that was exactly what it was used for at times.

My eyes then went to the gray stone effigy of Lashana that stood above the altar, about ten feet tall, appearing as a human woman, eyes hidden by a red silk blindfold, wearing unremarkable robes while holding a scabbarded bastard sword in her hands, the scales upon the pommel balanced while large braziers bathed her in their light from either side.  I couldn’t exactly say then why I felt my heart racing as I looked upon her image and wouldn’t understand the reason until much later.

I was approached by a dwarven man after a few moments when I did not move from the doorway, his robes gray but fringed with a trio of silver threaded bands at the wrists and similar scrollwork on his chest and the collar of the robes.  His hair was brown and had more gray than not, the same with his neatly trimmed beard, and he wore silver-framed spectacles low on his nose.  He greeted me directly, introducing himself as Justicar of the Temple Detran Grayforge, asking if I sought justice, knowledge, vengeance, or perhaps a confession.  My confusion must have been plain upon my face, and certainly I couldn’t immediately form a response, for he then smiled and bid me to follow him to one of the benches to explain what it was that brought me into the Lady’s house.

I explained the business which had brought me to Ryanathyr specifically, which he seemed to heartily approve of, calling it “the Lady’s Work”, but then I explained that I was not of these lands and had come from the Empire, his visage darkening, and then rolled up my sleeve to reveal my slave brand, admitting that I knew nothing of Lashana, had only heard her name a few minutes before.  I sensed that some kind of anger had welled up in him, but he quickly hid it, rising and bidding me to follow him.  He led me behind the altar and into some of the private chambers reserved for confessions, retrieved a pitcher of water and cups for us, and we began to speak of why Lashana was not worshiped in my homeland.

I could not believe his words at first, my mind, long trained to reject such thoughts, immediately sounding the alarm bells of heresy.  The story he told me of the Great Cataclysm made no sense, contradicted most of what I had been taught, especially regarding the role the kerryn played in the events that lead to the upheaval of the world.  How could I believe that we were not responsible for the great breaking, that our goddess had been taken from us through treachery and conspiracy by demons, deities, and mortals alike?  He told me that our people had continued to fight on in the face of madness that swept through most of our priesthood when our goddess fell, against the Elvish Dominion that sought our downfall for our alliance with the long-extinct aerian people, that we had tried to stop the very cataclysm that we are blamed for within the Empire.  To add more to my confusion, he also told me that not everyone sees history in such a way, that the Elvish Greathouses tell a different story, that their accounts support the idea that the kerryn were the ones who brought forth the demons, that many more have their own histories that muddle the truth.  Lashana herself is quite clear on the matter, however, for she witnessed the downfall of Saressh, and this great injustice is what she seeks to avenge, and why she cannot be worshipped within the Empire.

So many things had just been told to me, so many contradictions to the truths I had been taught from birth, the facts of life that I knew to be just that.  I had never conceived that there could be another point of view, that I may have been lied to by the very Emperor I served with my utmost devotion.

It took some time before I realized that he had told me the name of the kerryn mother goddess, and that this was the first time I had ever heard her name. 

Saressh. 

I was completely overwhelmed by this point, feeling as if my entire world had suddenly collapsed.  I could detect no deception in Justicar Grayforge’s words, no signs that he was trying to deceive me for some other purpose.  I had tears in my eyes, running down my face to fall upon my hands.  He laid a hand upon my shoulder, offered a prayer to Lashana to give me strength, to light my way in this time of vulnerability. 

I’m not sure how long it took for me to recover from my initial shock, but once I had regained control of my faculties, I excused myself, for I did not want to worry Satella.  I had far too much weighing in my mind now that I had to sort through, and it would take a long time for me to do so.  He understood, wished me the best on my journey, and said that I would be in his prayers, that I would be welcome within Lashana’s temple should I need a place to go.  Before he saw me to the door, though, he offered me a parting gift, a small book that explained Lashana’s faith, the nature of her justice, and of the Great Injustice she sought to remedy. 

I thanked him, holding the book to my chest once I departed.  I found Satella sitting nearby, and she immediately came to me, embracing me, for she could tell I was unsettled.  After enjoying the comfort of her embrace for some moments, I thanked her, and we made our way back toward the inn; it was already dark beneath the trees, though the sky above showed the sun was just now setting. 

As we approached the inn, my thoughts churning with uncertainty and many questions I had never before thought to ask, my heart nearly leapt from chest as we came upon the square near the inn.  My ears rose, and I froze in place, daring not even to breathe, for I heard voices speaking in a language I had not heard since I set out on my ill-fated voyage to the Dragon Isles.

It was the secret language of the Stellae Illustris.

#Lore24 – Entry #145 – Muckenmyre Month #24 – The City of Ryanathyr

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

As we approached the northern end of the Grimbridge Way, I could smell fresher air blowing in, a different smell to the coming rains.  Then, the trees that had created the tunnel over the Way began to thin out, the line of Witch Lights came to an end, and the marshland began to fade, replaced with some low grasslands leading towards a forest of tall trees, a handful of farms lining the road into the woods.  We came upon a patrol from Ryanathyr around midday as we neared the edge of the woods, and they turned about to escort us into the city.

As we drew closer, and the trees grew tall around us, I saw that they were not packed as densely as those of the Muckenmyre, and there were other farms and small homes nestled in the larger clearings as we approached the city.  Soon the trees grew larger still, their trunks reaching far over head, many growing to twenty, thirty, perhaps even fifty feet or more in diameter, their limbs spreading far overhead for double or even triple the distance.  Though little light came through the high canopy, there were abundant lanterns along the roadway, as well as some luminescing insects floating around, similar to those I’d seen in the swamps. 

Nearing the outskirts of Ryanathyr, I began to see the walls of the city that had been built throughout the trees, a mixture of worked stone and strategically placed trees, providing cover for the defenders that patrolled atop them, and covered vantage points for the handful of sharpshooters I managed to spot who were well hidden within the foliage.  I didn’t get the impression they were on any kind of alerted status, but they were still plenty of eyes watching out along the road, and probably plenty more along the walls I hadn’t seen.  Above the city, the trees opened up into a massive clearing, allowing the dull, cloud-covered light through onto the city proper.  We passed through large wooden gates that still seemed to be made of still-living wood, and two more before we reached the actual city, the areas on the outer ring filled with the lower-class neighborhoods, the middle ring consisting of shops, craftsmen, and travelers’ rests, amongst other businesses, and the innermost section of the city housing the city’s rulers, temples, nobility, and wealthier merchants, as Ashley graciously explained to us.  The city was tiny compared to Draconis Magna, would barely equal one of its smaller districts, in fact, but after being in such a town as Grimbridge, it seemed quite magnificent indeed.

Our business with the magistrate was fairly straightforward and without much in the way of discussion:  the constable handled the briefing, the signed documents were passed over and examined, the prisoners accepted, the twins being properly secured with grounding bands before they were unbound, and the lot hauled off to the city jail until other arrangements could be made for their just punishments.  Our noblewoman gave her statement to the magistrate, fingering Jaggedtusk, and Ashley was quick to corroborate her testimony, swearing his solemn oath upon his honor that it was the truth.  With that out of the way, the magistrate bid our party to enjoy the city for the night, and any due rewards would be handed over in the morning following additional paperwork; even here the bureaucracy grinds ever slowly, it seems.

My duty for now ended, Satella and I walked about the city, Jessiryn and Augra their own business until we would meet up later in the evening at a nearby inn.  Satella had come through before when she had first come to Grimbridge after receiving her vision from Yurisaya regarding me, so had some knowledge of the city.  We ventured back into the trade district first, walking through the markets and sampling some of the sweets on offer.  Though I still felt a sense of impropriety at my actions, I still found myself becoming more and more used to them…simply going about as I pleased, not having to inflict pain, to train or retrain my brothers and sisters, only putting those to the question who had broken the law…it all seemed much more…right somehow.

We had wandered back through to the temple district as evening approached, a light rain beginning to fall as we did.  Many temples, while of different construction than within the Empire, bore familiar trappings and symbols, but one stood out for I did not recognize the symbol displayed upon its doors, that of a long-bladed sword with its point downward, a pair of scales balancing worked into the pommel, backed by the outline of a flame.  Seeing where my focus lay, Satella explained that this was the House of Justice, dedicated to Lady Lashana, goddess of justice, law, and righteous vengeance.  When I explained that I had not heard of her, nor seen her symbol within the Empire, she explained that was intentional, for Lashana sought justice that the Empire is unwilling to commit to.  With her usual smile, Satella placed her hand upon my back and nudged me forward, suggesting that I should discover for myself what it was she spoke of. 

Feeling some apprehension at entering the temple of such an unfamiliar deity, I was nonetheless curious as to why she would be omitted from worship within the Empire and felt myself being drawn inside.

#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 #143 – Muckenmyre Month #22 – Grimbridge Justice

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

Though I thought it too light a sentence for allowing myself to get into such a state, Satella deemed that not curing my hangover and letting me deal with the consequences an entirely adequate punishment, though it was one I would not suffer alone, for she too imbibed too much that day.

I was late to rise that morning, and by the time I had managed to get myself ready for the day, it was already mid-morning, and the town was already hard at work on deciding the fate of our prisoners.  The twins were still pilloried outside the jail, though wearing some foul-smelling mixture of swamp mud, rotten fruits and vegetables, and other substances I could not immediately identify.  They gnawed at their bits in an almost frantic state, shaking and jerking at their restraints as I approached them, fear in their eyes.  I paused then, watching their reaction, considering that perhaps my methods were far too harsh for this land.  Then I thought of what destruction the pair could have caused in town, how easily they had thrown in with bandits, and how they had so casually tried to open an unknown portal in the hold keep and decided that my punishments for them were perhaps not enough.

I sought the mayor and the constable then, finding them with the town council and several of the town guard, recording statements from the merchant caravan and the prisoners we had freed.  They were bringing in the bandits one at a time, trying to get information out of them, but their resolve to keep their mouths shut seemed to have been bolstered by the confidence of their leader now that he’d had a chance to recover from the fight.  I watched proceedings for a time, eventually getting called for my statement on the matter, which I gladly related with due diligence on the details, though perhaps I was a bit too thorough for this particular region?   I simply gave reports as I usually did, with all the details I had been trained to convey to my masters, but kept getting prompted to speed things along. 

Eventually, once the morning’s procedures had closed, I offered my services as an interrogator to the town, to pry any remaining information from the bandits regarding additional forces, other hideouts, their plot with the noble girl, whatever else I could get from them.  Though Mayor Pleasence may have suspected the things I knew, and perhaps others as well, given the commonalities I shared with Satella, confirming what I am to them now revealed some apprehension on several faces.  Nonetheless, I offered to perform what must be done, and likewise offered the promise that no permanent damage would be incurred upon the brigands, if that was what concerned them.  I likewise offered to punish the criminals for their deeds, consistent with town law, if others did not wish to do so themselves; my hands were stained with enough blood, a little more would not matter, and it was for the public good.

Though their discussion lasted some time, it was eventually decided to allow me to proceed.  Satella had shown up by now, though remained silent, though encouraging.  I began the process by entering the jail with the jeering prisoners, allowing them their moment of bravado, before I picked one of the lesser thugs at random and had him hauled out to an accompanying room, well within earshot of the others.  I’ll spare the details of my methods here but to say that the bandit screamed for some time, and when he was returned to the cell, on the edge of consciousness and a quivering mess, not a mark upon him, the others were much cowed.  I stared down Jaggedtusk now, quickly forcing him to turn away, his own confidence now in doubt.  I picked another bandit, the second largest of them after their leader, and began to question him.  He was quite eager to speak to me of their intentions, and it took little prompting to get the answers we sought.  Once I had the information, I related to him the fate he had avoided by being so cooperative, in excruciating detail, with the promise that it could still happen if he revealed what we had spoken of to his companions.  He was shaking and in tears when they brought him back to cell, and absolutely refused to speak.

The fear within the jail rose significantly.

The next time I entered, I chose Jaggedtusk himself.  Though he tried to put on a strong front, I could see his nervousness clearly.  Once the guards had left us alone, I simply stared at him across the table for some time, my expression completely neutral.  His unease grew steadily, and he began to squirm, and no matter what he said, I did not reply, only shifted my head slightly one way or the other.  When I finally leaned forward and placed my hands on the table, he nearly jumped out of his skin.  Then I allowed myself a slight smile as I looked upon him, stating calmly that I had finally decided how I wanted to make him scream.  He offered me everything at that point, eager to please me and avoid the torture he had imagined.  When he was returned to the cells, he was a much-deflated man.  The following interviews were just that; having seen their leader broken, the other bandits were quick to offer up all that they knew.

My job finished to my satisfaction, as it was late in the day now, I returned to the mayor, constable, and town council, relating what I had learned. There was thankfully no grand plot against Grimbridge; the bandits had simply formed over time and had been getting more bold in their actions as they moved south, eventually learning of the keep in the swamps.  They had been operating for a few months now, tending to keep their unlawful activities to the north of the swamp due to better choice of targets.  Capturing the noblewoman, the maid, and her would be protector had simply been an opportunity they had come upon on the roads south of Ryanathyr during one of their raids, their appearances fancying Jaggedtusk, who had admitted to having to real plans on turning them over for some time.  Undoubtedly there was a reward for their safe return and the capture of the ones responsible. 

Though I was now looked upon with newfound trepidation by the members of the council, they nonetheless thanked me for my efforts in aiding the town and ensured me and my companions would be rewarded properly.  When further discussion had ceased, it was ultimately decided that the lot of the bandits and the twins, would be transported to Ryanathyr and delivered for their ultimate justice there, likely to be sentenced to hard labor in the Iron Valley Prison.  Satella and I volunteered to join the town guard in escorting them north, and soon enough, Jessiryn and Augra would inform us that they would be going along as well, as would some of the merchants and the former prisoners.  Official documents would be drawn up the following morning, and a pair of wagons would be fashioned to hold the prisoners over the next two days. 

On a rather cool and rainy morning, our party, with prisoners in tow, would set out from Grimbridge for the four-day journey along the Way, bound for the City of 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?

#Lore24 – Entry #140 – Muckenmyre Month #19 – The Depths of the Muckenmyre

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

Beyond the stairs, the tomb, or whatever it was we were in, opened up into a four-way intersection; there was a door to our right, a shorter corridor straight ahead leading to a chamber, and a longer corridor to the left.  The structure was much better preserved down here, and along the corridor were dragon-shaped sconces positioned every ten feet or so along the walls, most holding aloft crystals that provided the faint light that filled the area.  I had seen such structures in the Empire, the same kind of general layouts and furnishings in the same styles, supposedly some kind of temples for worshipping the ancient dragons.  There is even a massive complex of draconic make resting below Draconis Magna, though only the Emperor and his most trusted allies knew just how far it extended.

The scent trail was clear, though, very distinct over the musty, ancient air that filled the tomb, as were the footprints in the thick dust.  Our prey had gone straight ahead, turned about and gone to the longer corridor to the left.  From here, I could see a larger dragon statue looming in the gloom at the center of the larger chamber ahead, standing tall, wings spread, roaring.  I led us to the left, Jessiryn moving silently beside me, bow at the ready.  Augra lingered for a moment longer, staring at the dragon statue, before she followed us.  The trail continued to the first branch of the corridor, turning right, down another tunnel.  There was another doubling back, leading to a door a short distance in and to the left, which now stood open.  I heard the twins’ voices ahead now, rhythmic, some kind of chanting in the draconic tongue. 

Alerting my companions to this, we hurried onward.  The next chamber was irregularly shaped, vaguely square, though with shaved corners and high platforms in two corners bearing a pair of dragon statues, one golden, one red, seemingly posed in battle across the expanse of the room.  Small benches lined the area between them, sized for kobolds, most likely. 

The chanting came from the south, louder now, another pair of doors standing wide.  An unnatural mist had began to roll through the opening, and the chanting had grown more intense, some kind of spell incantation, calling out to the elemental forces.  What were the twins up to?  Power thrummed through the stonework, and I could feel it growing stronger in the air.

We readied ourselves for whatever may be coming as best we could and approached the opening.  The chamber beyond was massive, oddly shaped, widening out at the lower end, perhaps over fifty feet high.  Stairs rose to a high, raised platform in the center of the chamber, topped by some kind of altar, which is where the twins were now, one on either end, pouring magic into the device that rested there.  Behind them, on far wall, a massive sheet of fog swirled and roiled like a whirlpool, something massive seemingly trying to come through the portal as the fog bulged and shrank.  The scent of the swamp was somehow growing stronger by the moment, and wind began howl and swirl out from the platform.

My body reacted of its own accord in the next moment, pushing Jessiryn out of the way of Jaggedtusk’s axe as it swung toward its head, the orc having appeared out of nowhere.  He moved far too quickly for his speed to have been natural, so I assumed he was magically enhanced by the twins, likely had been made invisible as well.  Augra roared a challenge and met the bandit leader’s next swing with her own; he was a good foot shorter than her, but their blows met with equal force.  Jessiryn had dropped his bow and drawn his twin short swords while Satella had begun a prayer to Yurisaya.

Thinking to stop whatever the twins were summoning, I raced up the stairs; if even one of them broke off to turn their spells upon us, all of us could be in danger.  As I topped the stairs, they spotted me, a look of surprise upon their faces.  Thunder rumbled from beyond the swirling fog of the portal.  I readied myself to dodge whatever spells they threw my way.

I did not expect them to turn and run away from me, nor did I expect them to dive headlong into the maelstrom of the portal.

Nor would I expect that I would chase after them in that moment, a sudden impulse that overrode my intention to aide my allies, but upon later reflection, it was as if something drew me after them, something more powerful than either of the twins, something far more ancient than I could have imagined.

#Lore24 – Entry #139 – Muckenmyre Month #18 – Secrets Beneath Swamp Drake Hold

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

The fetid scent of the swamp was heavy in the moist, vine-shrouded tunnel we found ourselves in.  Even the remarkable strength of the draconic construction couldn’t withstand the combined might of the swamp and time.  As we crept down the tunnel, I saw that it was lined with alcoves, each with a draconic visage carved into the walls at the rear of them, at least where the swamp hadn’t burst through or colonies of insects hadn’t nested.  Ahead, torchlight flickered, and the trio of voices grew louder, perhaps a hundred feet or so down from the stairs. 

I overheard some of their conversation, something about the significance of a particular statue in the next room, some laughter from the twins, sounds of exaggerated moaning and panting.  Easing toward the doorway, I crouched and eased myself out to peer inside the next chamber.  It was fairly large and rectangular, though the area off to the right was collapsed and partially flooded.  My quarry stood at far end on the opposite side of the big chamber, before a large, carved visage of a dragon, Charity leaning against Jaggedtusk, rubbing herself against him, while Chastity was pressing her ass against the sculpture, rubbing it and making the lewd noises as she squeezed her breasts. 

At least they were distracted, though there wasn’t much in the way of cover between them and us, and there was a good fifty feet of space between us.  If we just rushed out and tried to surprise them, it was very likely they’d have time to get a spell or two off.  Jaggedtusk had his axe resting on the floor, but leaned against its haft, so we’d have to contend with that as well. 

As Chastity rubbed her ass over the sculpture, there was a shifting of stone as something clicked loudly into place, and I held my breath, tensing to make a run out of the tunnel.  The twins laughed teasingly, both of them going to either side of the carving.  Working fast, they probed along the runes surrounding the dragon, then started pressing at the scales and horns of the draconic head.  There were more clicks, then a heavy sliding sound, a rumble of heavy, ancient machinery that vibrated the floor.  Then there was a hiss of escaping air, and the draconic visage split open, ancient doors sliding apart, revealing another stairwell descending even deeper. 

I looked to Satella, who had pressed herself close to me to watch the scene.  I nodded toward our prey, then back to the hall, asking for her opinion on how we should proceed.  With Jaggedtusk leading, one twin on either side, the trio descended into the newly revealed tunnel.  She shook her head, and eased back, motioning toward the tunnel that led to the surface.  In a low whisper, even though the trio were out of earshot by now, she said that we must help our comrades before giving chase, that we couldn’t risk the dangers that may lay beyond.  I nodded my agreement and so we made our way back to the upper level, bypassing the prisoners again, and slipping out into the courtyard again. 

I saw Jessiryn waiting and looking anxious and gave him the signal to start the attack.  I won’t spend overlong on the details; needless to say, by now, the bandits were getting drunk, and their lack of magical support meant that many died not knowing what hit them, while those that had any sense at all quickly surrendered, and we had only minor scrapes and bruises for our efforts.  The fight was over in minutes but took Satella and I nearly an hour to secure the survivors in a way that would ensure they gave us no trouble.  I kept an eye on the door to the jail frequently, but the missing trio didn’t make an appearance as we fought off the rest. 

Once we had the bandits taken care of, a dozen of them still alive, we left Abdel and Joseph behind to tend to the prisoners while the four of us chased after the primary prey. 

As we approached the recently revealed passageway, Augra was on edge, not liking the tight spacing her large frame would have to deal with.  Jessiryn and I led the way, while Satella took up the rear, as her eyesight was undoubtedly the worst amongst us being human.  There was a faint light coming from below, enough that I could at least see the end of the stairs, and so far, I couldn’t detect anything odd in the air other than a mustiness that reminded me of a tomb.  I mentioned this, and Satella advised us to be watchful for the restless dead, and of potential traps.  It was entirely possible that we would find our prey dead in a few short moments.  Still, I continued forward, intent upon my purpose.

#Lore24 – Entry #138 – Muckenmyre Month #17 – Against the Bandits

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

We approached Swamp Drake Hold once again, silent but for the faint rattle of the town guards’ weapons and armor.  Off in the darkness of the tall grasses, I could just hear the sound of movement, picked up the scent of a crocodile, heard the sound of flesh tearing from the body of one of the bandits Augra had downed earlier. 

The swamp wastes little time, it seems.

Our approach was masked by the continued celebration within the walls of the old fort, of music and laughter, though the twins’ pyrotechnics had since stopped.  Coming around to the side of the fort where Augra had earlier scouted, Satella and I eased along the mossy stone toward the old window that would be our entry point.  I eased myself up to peer over the smooth stone sill, keeping my ears low, and sought my quarry.  My tail twitched after a few moments; the twins were nowhere to be seen, nor was Jaggedtusk, the makeshift throne sitting empty as the bandits danced around and shared more of their ill-gotten drink. 

I had a scant few moments to assess the situation and hope that the twins would reappear before the attack was set to commence; Jessiryn and Abdel would open fire once they had climbed the walls.  I sniffed the air, picked up their scent trail mixed in amongst the smell of the many unwashed bodies, angling toward what we had identified as Jaggedtusk’s den.  Guessing what was likely underway, I thought then that perhaps we had actually received another blessing.  When I spotted Jessiryn atop the broken wall, readying his bow, I managed to meet his eye and quickly flashed elvish hand talk (something I had learned during my inquisitor training), indicating what I planned to do.  Surprise was clear upon his face at seeing what he’d likely assumed was something of an elvish secret, but after a moment, he nodded, and signed back that he had understood, easing back from the edge as he motioned Abdel to do the same.

Waiting for the right moment, when the bandits’ dancing had their line of sight mostly away from us, I slipped through the window and quickly ducked behind some water barrels and whispered to Satella to follow when the revelers had shifted away from us again.  Together we kept to the shadows at the edge of the fort and approached the leader’s den, the twins’ scents growing fresher.  I had expected to hear the trio in the throes of intense sex, but the den was strangely quiet, their trail leading beyond his den, toward the prison, and the two orcs standing guard at its doors.  I pondered what we would do for a few moments, then eased back into the shadows by one of the inner supporting walls, seeing Jessiryn crouched low in the darkness.  I flashed more hand talk to him, advising him to get ready to strike if my plan didn’t go as I’d hoped.

Once I had told Satella my plan, she simply nodded and prepared herself in the shadow-filled niche nearest to Jaggedtusk’s den, behind some recently looted crates.  Watching the two orcish guards a few moments more, I made my move, scurrying quickly on all fours from the shadows, lingering just long enough that my movements would be spotted, my tail lingering just a few heartbeats longer as I slipped by the boar hide covering doorway.  Surveying the room quickly, hearing heavy footsteps and muttered orcish approaching, I dove headlong into the pile of hides and furs that served as the chief’s bed, ignoring the sting of his strong scent mingling with that of the twins in my nose, the whole room heady with the scent of recent lovemaking. 

I barely had time enough to situate myself before the hide was pulled aside, one of the orc guards peering inside, his axe raised as he looked for whatever it was he’d seen enter the room.  His senses told him there was indeed something inside, and so he moved in, his companion coming up behind him, though he lingered at the doorway.  I dared not breathe as the orc moved carefully closer, trying to understand why he hadn’t seen the creature that had just came in.  From my position beneath the hides, I saw the shadow of Satella appear just behind the other orc, saw him stiffen has she delivered her nerve strike, momentarily paralyzing him, before she took hold of his head and gave a sharp twist. 

Hearing the crack of his companion’s neck bones, the orc looming near me turned, and at the same moment I threw aside the hides and was upon him, striking his throat with the edge of my hand with all the force I could muster, shattering his windpipe and any ability he had to call out in alarm.  Before he could do more than stagger, I delivered a full-bodied palm-strike straight into his nose, and as he staggered back, blood spraying, managed to grab hold of his head, wrenching it back and forth, getting the snap of bone; I let him fall limply to the floor and joined Satella by the door, waiting for the inevitable call of alert. 

But none came, though we waited for several moments longer.  Emboldened by our dealing with the guards, we drug their bodies to the bedding and hid them as best we could, then made our way silently toward the prison, eased the door open, and, seeing the way clear, moved inside.  I had perhaps expected Jaggedtusk and the twins to be doing something lewd with the prisoners, but to my surprise, they were nowhere in sight.  The prison was little more than a sizeable square room, with one corner containing a barred cell, and within it, a trio of women, shackled to the walls and floor, blindfolded, gagged, and naked.  Two were human, one was a mazoku, and, as Satella and I passed by the cell, none of them aware of our presence, I realized the mazoku was actually a rarer male as we passed and he shifted his position, though his body was every bit as shapely as a woman’s. 

But they were not our targets, not yet, and were fine as they were for now.  I led us onward, into the short hallway beyond, and saw stairs leading down, the faint flicker of torchlight visible below.  I paused at the top of the stairs, hearing muffled conversation drifting up from somewhere beneath us.  Intent upon my targets, I nodded to Satella and we crept down the stairs, into the dimly lit unknown that lay before us.