Category: Gaming

#Lore24 – Entry #127 – Muckenmyre Month #6 – The Ways of Mind and Body

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

I am not certain how long I stood where the mayor had left us, but after a time, Satella gently nudged me, bidding me to follow her.  Having no will of my own at the time, I did so as a slave would, a few steps behind, careful to keep my gaze from meeting anyone’s eyes.  It became awkward as we traversed the town again, when Satella kept slowing her pace so that I could catch up, and I likewise stopped behind her.  She realized what I was doing after a few instances of this happening, and gently informed me that she and I were equals now, and that I should walk beside her.

I didn’t know how to process that.  Me?  Equal to a free human?  It seemed absurd to the point of laughter, but I could find no such mirth within me.  Still, her smile never left her face, and she showed a remarkable amount of patience with my awkwardness.  It is so unnatural for me to consider walking beside someone who was not a slave, so against my very nature that I had to concentrate on the very act, knowing that were someone from the Empire to see me, I would be punished severely, and rightly so. 

Satella took me out of town via a boardwalk off the Lower Landing, following a rocky patch along the coast, in view of the Grimbridge lighthouse that stood on a nearby island, and eventually we wound up at a manmade breakwater that jutted out from the shore.  Satella showed remarkable agility for a human, her raised heels easily hopping along the rocks as she brought me to the end of the jetty.  There was a large, smooth boulder here, laying almost flat, which she lowered herself to her knees upon, and had me do the same, resting her hands upon her knees.  For a time, we said nothing, her eyes looking out over the sea, the waves calm for the moment, but the darkening skies further out indicating a storm on the way. 

Though I had recently been plucked from the very sea I now gazed upon, I held no fear of it, no particularly strong feelings.  The waves crashing upon the rocks a few feet below us were calming, the breeze blowing over us pleasant enough in the warm morning.  The sounds of the docks were but a faint buzz in my ears at the time.  After some time simply taking in the moment, Satella had turned her gaze upon me, and I could feel the intensity of her scrutiny. 

It was the same kind of gaze that I had mastered as an inquisitor, deep, penetrating, unnerving.  I was used to that look of course, so was unfazed by it, but thought it curious nonetheless.  I had had my suspicions about Satella’s nature, in the little time I had known her, but it seemed that she was openly telling me of her true self now.  I suppose it makes some kind of sense.  As a kerryn, I cannot begin to fathom the nature or intentions of the gods, for such things are not meant for us, but for Yurisaya to send a Confessor to be my caretaker at this time seemed somehow appropriate.  We are both intimately familiar with inflicting and receiving pain, of the many arts of torture, of the Ways of Mind and Body, as they are usually called; the word “Breaking” is usually omitted from the name.  I am uncertain as to how these methods came to be, and whether the Yurisayan confessors adopted them from the Inquisition, or if it was the other way around, but, at least, some things are the same even across the vast distance between here and the Empire, so it is likely the latter that is true.

Kindred spirits by virtue of our abilities to inflict and endure pain, of our ability to drive others away from us by our very nature. 

And yet, Satella was rather different than the Confessors I had known; she was very much like the average Yurisayan in demeanor:  cheerful, compassionate, friendly…yet still at a distance from others, as evidenced by the looks she had been given by the townsfolk.  A strange dichotomy, but one I could understand; I had often put on such faces myself, at least in my earlier days, before I had been fully adopted into the Inquisition. 

Having shared this moment, she rose, and I followed, and now openly aware of both of our natures, she assumed a stance, nodding for me to do so as well.  Of course, I was quite familiar with the form, for it is amongst the most basic of exercises which I practice daily and had resumed following her healing my bones.  The forms were unarmed techniques, meant for fighting without need of weapons or armor, for slaves were to have neither outside of a full-fledged slave knight of the Stellae Illustris, but quite useful for an Inquisitor hidden amongst the rank and file of the slaves.  The particular techniques we shared were meant to be the most efficient at disabling opponents, at inflicting the most damaging blows to bone in order to disable and cripple, to strike the nerves in ways that could cause limbs to go numb.

I mirrored her movements exactly, without need of her to slow her progression through them, though by the time we had finished with the exercises, I was sweating and winded, still not fully recovered from my ordeal at sea.  We returned to sitting upon the stone for a while longer, until I had recovered, simply enjoying the sea, though it was growing rougher as the storm approached. 

Though my deeper thoughts were still far away, back in the heart of the Empire, my earlier uncertainties about my situation had alleviated somewhat, knowing that I had a kindred spirit beside me, our intrinsic understanding of one another creating a bond between us without need of words. 

#Lore24 – Entry #126 – Muckenmyre Month #5 – Grimbridge

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

Restless as I was, I felt little of my fatigue by the time Satella and the mayor awoke that morning, and though I’m certain it was exquisite, I cannot recall having smelled or tasted breakfast that morning.  My thoughts were on the far shores of the Empire in which I had grown up and would continue to be there for some time.  Still, I bathed myself and donned the light dress and leggings Satella had for me, gray in color, with darker boots good for the swampy area we were in.  I still felt naked as I looked over myself in the small mirror, self-consciously feeling at my wrists and throat for the metal that lay rotting atop the nightstand. 

I should have tried to clean them already, even if they were broken.  Why hadn’t I?  Why did I let them linger so?  I resolved myself to correct the failure as soon as I could, and punish myself properly for such an infraction at the first opportunity.

Though the window in my small room had been open frequently, stepping out of the mayor’s home sent a refreshing rush through me.  The town was perhaps everything I had expected, and something else entirely.  The people who already moved about in the early morning regarded us in a warm manner, greeting Mayor Pleasence with casual friendliness, though it didn’t take long for me to learn that they were not quite so welcoming to Satella, and tended to have a bit of wariness about her that I didn’t initially understand.  There were plenty of curious looks and friendly greetings for me, the locals having known of my arrival and saying how much better I looked than when I had come to the town.  I was…uncertain how to respond to the townsfolk honestly.  I certainly wasn’t used to such warm receptions; would that change once they found out about my past?  Surely, they could not abide a slave trainer and torturer in their midst?

As I would learn once the mayor had started his tour properly, the town of Grimbridge had been constructed upon and around an ancient, sunken bridge of absolutely massive size.  A single span of the bridge was still visible, stretching from the sea by the docks in a northerly direction, leading deeper into the Muckenmyre swamps; the ancient marble still appeared in a brilliant, almost unearthly white in the sunlight and must have been nearly a thousand feet in length, perhaps half that in width, and was packed with stone and wood buildings atop it, mostly the town’s businesses and wealthier residents, built several floors high, and some were evening hanging over its edges, above the lazy end of the Crocodile Run River that meandered from the deeper swamps to the northeast. 

On either end of the span were the remnants of the ancient bridge supports, where more of the town had been built, named the Upper and Lower Landings, comprising some of the homes, like the mayor’s, as well as some of the businesses that required more space or dealt with less pleasant odors.  The Upper Landing marked the entrance to the town from the north, and had a surrounding palisade built around much of its length, the gates of the town overwatched by a series of short watchtowers along its length.  Beyond lay the Grimbridge Way, a raised roadway through the swamps that continued for several days to the north, following what had once been the path of the ancient bridge, and eventually came out into the forests surrounding the city of Ryanathyr, once elvish, but now sporting a multicultural population.

We continued along through the docks, which were built built large to accommodate heavier merchant vessels which preferred to spend less time on the sea and move goods northward via the Way but were mostly reserved for the fleet of fishing boats that called the Grimbridge port home.  It was here that I finally learned of my saviors, a merchant ship by the name of Amokura, captained by a human named Maza Tokala.  They had not spent much time in port, long enough to offload me and take on a few extra supplies, and then set off along the coast to the northwest for another destination.  At least I had a name, should I encounter them again that I may offer my thanks and find some way to repay them for saving my life, whatever may become of it.

After this, we crossed the Span, allowing me to see the various shops and services the town offered, as well as some of the wealthier homes, a few of which seemed quite out of place with the rest of the town’s more simplistic structures.  A curious thought occurred to me as we strolled along the Span…with no master, what could I do to provide for myself in this new land?  Surely, I could not expect someone to provide for me as slaves had been in the Empire; nearly everyone of age in the town had a job or responsibility of some sort.  I knew there was no need for someone with my skillset here, so what could I hope to offer in return for my care besides simple labor?  I am not certain what exactly sparked these thoughts, but I certainly could not ignore them.

Following the walkthrough of the Span, we came out onto the Upper Landing.  The general market was here, handy for the locals who lived outside of town and farmed on the patches of land that weren’t too far gone into the mire.  There was a much smaller group of docks here, where the curious flat-bottomed boats used by the locals were moored while they traded their goods; apparently the swamps were mostly not that deep, but filled with plenty of dangers, and I noted no few weapons on belts and stowed upon the boats.  The Crocodile Run River had been named for a very good reason, I would learn.  Having taken less than an hour, the mayor excused himself, said that he had town business to attend to, and would check in on me once he returned home that evening.  I thanked him of course, bowing out of habit, which seemed to get him a little on edge, but he brushed it off quickly as he left Satella and I in the market, bidding me to continue exploring and getting to know the townsfolk.

It was a rather surreal experience, my first trip into Grimbridge.  I saw no other kerryns in town, so I had plenty of eyes upon me, as I suppose the locals were not used to seeing us.  I suppose I could interchange my race with ‘slaves’ as well; everyone was there because they had reason to be there, not simply because that had been their assigned duties given to them by their masters.  I think Satella recognized the look that had come upon me in the moments that followed the mayor’s departure that morning, for she put a hand upon my shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. 

I was lost.  For the first time in my life, I had no duties to attend, no slaves to train or punish, no threats to my Emperor to root out…no one holding my leash.  I didn’t even have my collar.

I had no earthly idea what I could possibly do, where I could possibly go, at that moment. 

It was the first time I had felt truly without purpose in my life.

#Lore24 – Entry #125 – Muckenmyre Month #4 – Mayor Pleasence

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

I would find out after my awakening the following morning that I had been in the small room for a handful of days, that it was a bed in the town mayor’s home that I inhabited.  Throughout my recovery, Satella dutifully tended to me as my strength slowly returned.  During my stubborn insistence upon trying to care for myself, she was kind enough to let me try, and only stepped in once it was clear that I was still too weak to do more than walk about the room a time or two.  My wounds were healing cleanly, in spite of several places that had become infected, and now that my bones were set properly, with the aid of her goddess, I could move my body again.  Not normally, certainly, but that would return in time as I grew steadily stronger.

It was on the third day, late in the evening as the sun set, that I would finally meet the town mayor, Dannold Pleasence.  Satella prepared dinner as I continued the exercises that had once been second nature, but now seemed so exhausting, when the mayor returned.  As I would learn, he had been forced to leave town the day I had been brought in on some business to the north and had made the quick decision to allow Satella to use his home for my care.  I listened as he spoke quietly to Satella about my condition, could smell the strong odor of the swamp upon him as his sweaty scent drifted through the door. 

Much clearer of thought now that I had had time to process my situation, I wasted no more time and exited my room.  My immediate impression of the mayor was that he was something of a dour man, his shaven head bearing a few battle scars, one in particular which had remained after a strike had nearly taken his left eye, from the crown of his head to his jaw, his skin sun-worn and rough from age and a hard life.  He was in his middle years, but still had the strong body of a warrior and a laborer, and I saw his two-handed sword leaning in its scabbard by the outer door of the home. 

As he turned to address me, I immediately dropped to my knees and prostrated myself before him, begging his forgiveness at having imposed myself upon him in such a way, to express my sincere sorrow that a lowly slave such as myself had inconvenienced him so, and to thank him profusely for his kindness and generosity.  He was silent as I finished my outburst, but I dared not look up for fear of angering him, though I smelled a subtle change in his scent that told me he was more confused than anything, perhaps even embarrassed.  I got the impression he had looked to Satella for guidance in how to respond, but I could not say what her look had been.  I had done the same to her once I was strong enough, as was proper of a slave, but she had taken it in stride, insisting that it was no trouble, and for me not to worry myself over such things anymore.

After a long, awkward pause, the mayor finally managed to respond.  “That’s quite enough of that, my dear,” he said.  “You’re not in the Empire anymore, and I’ll not have that kind of behavior in my home, my town.”  As he approached, I expected him to kick me, or perhaps yank my hair so that he could deliver a firm slap to my face.  Instead, he guided me to my feet and brought me to the table in the dining area, even pulled the chair out and helped me to sit.  I was a little taken aback by this, to say the least, being unaccustomed to such treatment. 

Put somewhat off balance by this, my inquisitor’s instincts telling me to tread carefully for fear of a trap of some kind, I answered his questions honestly as Satella served our dinner, recounting why I had been aboard the doomed ship and what I recalled of my journey to Grimbridge.  He did not pry into my past much at all, didn’t even ask me as to the nature of my spiked collar and cuffs.  He knew I was a slave of course, but did not recognize the mark of the Stellae Illustris upon it; Satella had not mentioned it either, so perhaps they had no knowledge of what it meant?  He honestly seemed more concerned over the state of my body.  I assured him that Satella’s healing had worked well, and it was simply a matter of time before I was back to normal, but his concerns were of my old scars, specifically my slave brands, for they are upon both arms, and surrounded by deeper scarring. 

My brands are not unique, certainly, but are rarer amongst the kerryn slaves given my nature as not only a slave trainer buy as an inquisitor.  Most slaves will receive a magical brand upon the underside of their forearm marking them as property, showing who owns them at but a glance, given to them with little pain.  Mine were done not with magic, but heated metal, burning my owner’s insignia upon my flesh.  Some owners will still brand their slaves thusly if they have a taste for the sadistic.  I’ve had many owners in my life, and each time requires the old brands to be removed by peeling away the flesh, regrowing it anew through magical healing, and then reapplying the brand.  I hesitated to share this information, but for whatever reason, perhaps it was the compassion I felt from both he and Satella, I revealed the exact process, if not what it meant.  Satella was not fazed by this revelation, though Mayor Pleasence was…horrified.  My reassurances that such branding was not common did little to cure his unease, and I apologized immediately for upsetting him so; he barely touched his dinner after that, though he insisted that I had done nothing wrong.

He also insisted that an apology wasn’t needed, and that I wouldn’t need to worry about such treatment again.  When I inquired as to why, he stated that winter was upon them, and that the seas would be dangerous to traverse, even this far south.  Even if I wanted to return to the Empire, which, at the time, I certainly did, for it was my duty to serve the Emperor, may He live forever, I could not do so for several months, and it was his intention to teach me that kerryns were not slaves on this side of the world, whatever I may think of myself.

I could hardly believe it at that moment.  Kerryns free?  Not enslaved, as was proper?  How could that even be possible?  How could we be trusted with such freedom?  Surely there must be some kind of restrictions placed upon us? 

It made little sense to me.  Seemed absolutely reckless, dangerous even. 

Mayor Pleasence told me then that he would show me around town himself the following morning if Satella gave him the okay to do so.  She had no objections, had even picked out some clothing that would be more appropriate for me to wear.

My introduction to this strange new land would come on the morrow, for better or for worse. 

After dinner, when we had retired for the night, I held my collar again, ran my fingers over the rust-dulled spikes and thought of the Emperor, of home, of my life leading up to that fateful voyage to the Dragon Isles.  I had no true friends; slave trainers such as myself had no kerryns who would willingly associate with us, save those who were made to study under us, and only then in for the hope of gaining some form of power over our lesser slave-kin, and we were but tools for our masters to use. None in the Inquisition would call me friend; ally, perhaps, but certainly not friend. 

For the first time I began to have thoughts that would be considered treasonous for a Stellae Illustris, no, blasphemous, perhaps would be more accurate.  Who was the Emperor if not our god, and how could we possibly consider a life without being in his service?  How could a kerryn consider a life lived…free?

I did not sleep that night, did not realize that I had been so deep in thought until the first rays of the sun began to come through the window, the scent of early rain on the warm breeze that wafted through. 

#Lore24 – Entry #124 – Muckenmyre Month #3 – The Yurisayan Priestess

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

It took me a few moments in my confusion to register all of the details of the woman who had entered the room.  Very unbecoming of an Inquisitor, perhaps, but she had caught me at an uncharacteristically vulnerable moment.  I recognized the holy symbol that dangled from the leather collar about her neck immediately once I had come to some semblance of my senses, that of the Lady Yurisaya, worn as one who had dedicated themselves to the Dark Lady’s service would.  She was a shapely human woman, shorter than myself, though most humans are, her brown hair done up in a pair of tight buns atop her head, her eyes almond-shaped and a deep brown.  She wore a revealing black leather dress, somehow managing to win the battle against gravity by virtue of the size of the woman’s breasts and the strap that was secured above them, high slits in the dress revealing her muscular thighs.  She wore long leather gloves and thigh-length high heels, all in black, her boots marred only by signs of having traversed dirty streets.  Her scent was of some floral soap, sweat, leather, and something more familiar, that of blood.

I was familiar with the followers of Yurisaya, but her style of dress was unfamiliar, and though expectedly revealing, not like that of the priestesses seen throughout the Empire.  She bowed in greeting, her voice soft, compassionate as she introduced herself as Satella Schnyder.  I gave my name in turn, dipping my head as low as possible, keenly noting the lack of my collar, reverting back to the meek, deferential tone as was expected for a kerryn slave.  She came to the bedside, knelt in front of me and continued to smile up at me, taking my hand in her own as she began a prayer. 

Once her prayer had ended, she rose, still holding my hand, and sat beside me, looking at once sad and hopeful.  She began our conversation rather casually, expressing that she was pleased that she had arrived in Grimbridge in time to offer her aid to me, that Yurisaya herself had guided her to me to be my caregiver.  I couldn’t begin to understand why; what did the gods care about kerryn slaves?  We were forsaken, were we not, following our attempt to destroy the world by bringing demons upon it? 

She then told me that in order to heal my bones properly, we would be forced to break them again, that she was certain I had regained enough strength to handle the procedure without further complications, and that it would have to be performed soon.  I again meekly replied in the affirmative, for my slave’s mind had already assumed that this woman was to be my new owner, that she would have a new collar ready once I was fully recovered.  I won’t deny that a part of me absolutely cried out for the reassurance of a collar about my neck, of a hand holding my leash.  I would explain to her at a more appropriate time where my loyalties were, of course, and that perhaps there would be a reward for my return to the Emperor’s service, for surely she would not be interested in a slave such as myself.

But, for the time being, she asked if I was prepared for what must come, and I assured her that I was; I would not reveal that I could likely have healed myself just yet, for I had too little information about my situation, and could not know how she would react to a kerryn possessing magic.  Coaxing the collar from my hand before placing it back upon the nightstand, she had me stretch out upon the bed and began probing my partially healed bones with the touch of an expert healer.  Then, using techniques with which I am intimately familiar, she broke them again.  The agony was like a rush of fresh air, my brain finally coming free of the stupor that had consumed it upon my awakening.  I did not scream as my partially knit bones were once again shattered, barely even grunted; what were a few broken bones in the face of the tortures I had endured in my life?  Even the intense burning sensation of the goddess’s healing, known to be unpleasant to those not of the faith, was almost pleasurable now that my senses had recovered.

I could tell I had been weakened significantly by my ordeal, for the healing left me tired and on the verge of unconsciousness.  I barely remembered Satella leaving my side, if only for a few minutes, until she was suddenly there again, a fresh tray of food in hand.  She fed me, for I was suddenly too weak to do so myself, almost as if she were tending to a sick child.  Before she left me to rest, she returned my broken collar to my hands, clasping them around its tarnished form before tucking me in and leaving the room. 

I had only begun to ponder what strange fate I had been dealt when slumber came crashing upon me.  Though I had been distraught, the feel of my collar in my hands was nonetheless a welcome comfort.  I don’t recall having suffered any more nightmares while I slept, at least this time.

#Lore24 – Entry #123 – Muckenmyre Month #2 – Awakening Upon an Unfamiliar Bed

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

I have vague impressions of the times following the storms.  The seas were peaceful once more, perhaps within minutes following the sinking of our fleet.  I can recall the sunset as I lay upon the piece of shattered wreckage, too incoherent to attempt to free myself from the rigging.  I could tell I had many broken bones, that I still bled.  Pain is a constant companion for one such as I, and though I can deal with it far better than most, even I can become overwhelmed if it is great enough.

My next memory is perhaps of the following morning, or perhaps it was a day or more later; regardless, it is of the ship approaching, turning alongside the wreckage.  Ghostly images then, of the sailors cutting me free, hauling my shattered body aboard their ship.  I cannot remember their colors, only vague images.  I think I had began to hallucinate, perhaps I even had a fever as my body stubbornly refused to submit.

As they cared for me the best they could, perhaps only in the hopes of giving such a pitiful creature as merciful ending as they could, I dreamed.  Strange visions, likely caused by the fever that ravaged me, or perhaps it was the souls of those who were lost alongside me, coming back to try and draw me into the void alongside them. 

Perhaps the tormented screams I heard were my own; I had not screamed from inflicted physical pain in decades, so perhaps this was purely my own internal suffering given voice by the fever?  I have a vague remembrance of one sailor’s face, pale and terrified as he backed away from me.  What demons did I release during my lapse in control?  Perhaps I will never know.

It was sometime after this that I awoke on land, in an unfamiliar bed, in a strange room.  It was the morning sun beaming through the window that awoke me, the sound of distant thunder filling my ears, normal thunder, not that of the Dragons’ Fury.  Beneath the heavy aroma of healing poultices, I could smell odd scents, people I didn’t know, a land I had never been to before, the thick, sickening odor of the swamps.  Beyond the small room, I could hear the din of a busy town, the chatter of its people as they went about their lives.

For a wonder, I was not restrained, and I had survived the fever, though some of the visions within my mind will forever remain burned into my memory.  For a wonder, I was not bound, aside from the bandages that were wrapped around my various wounds.  I could immediately feel the pain in my bones, knew immediately that some had begun to knit crookedly. 

I then realized that I was naked.  Not for lack of clothes, for I had been covered in a simple linen smock that smelled faintly of dust and age.  No, someone had removed my collar and cuffs, the spiked steel that marked me as not only a slave but a trainer of slaves, the metal that had been sealed upon my body for over a century, perhaps never to be removed.  As I breathed faster and became more aware of the place I found myself, I realized that I could not feel their reassuring weight, could not feel the internal spikes that constantly pricked and pinched at my flesh, their reassuring touch that signified that I was property of the Inquisition, of the Emperor’s most loyal Stellae Illustris.  Perhaps in another few decades I may have even earned the privilege of wearing a mythril version of them, that I would have become a full-fledged slave knight as a reward for my loyalty. 

To my horror, as I forced myself to rise from the bed, my body protesting with fresh pain that sharpened my senses, though I made not a sound, I saw my cuffs and my collar sitting on the nightstand by the bed, the metal ravaged by rust and sea salt, their once welded clasps broken and newly melted in order to remove them.  Panic filled me, for it was not allowed that a slave of my position ever allow their collar and other adornments to show such lack of care.  I reached simultaneously for my collar and my neck, wincing as the broken arm I extended to the collar refused to move as I had intended it to, the fingers of my other hand finding my throat, bare but for the bandages. 

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed then, gritting my teeth against the pain of a shattered femur and broken ribs and picked up the spiked collar once I could finally reach it.  My tail twitched anxiously as I stared at the broken, rusted steel, my mind struggling to come up with some way that I could fix it, some way that I could atone for the offense of going uncollared, that I would dare disrespect my Emperor in such a way.

That was when I heard the sound of heels crossing the wooden floor, then that door opened, revealing a human woman, wearing a most curious smile upon her face.  It would be some time before I understood what her smile indicated.  At that moment, I was simply too distraught over the loss of my adornments to process matters.

I may have even had tears in my eyes.

#Lore24 – Entry #122 – Muckenmyre Month #1 – Shipwrecked off the Dragon Isles

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

I have little memory of the Dragon Isles; we really weren’t there that long, just a few foggy images of rocky islands in the distance.  I was there to assist the Emperor’s Inquisition as they tracked the remnants of a group tied to the Res’Teringal rebellion, the last of those who would dare oppose his rightful rule, driven from their hiding place after several months of searching.  The remnant rebels had taken up with a pirate fleet, hoping to flee the emperor’s grasp, perhaps to live long enough to mount another attempt to buck the control of the Empire.  Once our chase fleet had caught up with them, they made straight for the Dragon Isles.  We knew they were bound for Cypress Isle at the tip of the island chain, but they were desperate. 

They turned toward the inner islands. 

They brought the storms…the Dragons’ Fury.

These storms were…like nothing I had ever witnessed in my life.  No storm within the many regions of the Empire that I have traversed in my two centuries of life were anything close to the fury that came from those islands, rolling down from the skies to the north like a gray and black wall of roiling death.  Our fleet was doomed the moment Inquisitor Dama decided to follow the pirates closer in.  I don’t know if they made it out; we lost sight of them within moments as the seas began to surge, lightning struck all about, and hail slammed into us.  The thunder…it really was like the roar of dragons.  That is the only way I can describe it…what else could sound so terrifying, even to someone like me, than a roar from a legendary dragon?

We tried to turn away, but it was far too late for us.  Our decision to follow the rebels toward the inner islands had sealed our doom.  Our ships were shattered in minutes.  I had already made my peace with my death, to whatever fate my soul would face.  My life had been nothing but suffering, either inflicted upon me, or with myself inflicting it upon others.  It was all for the Emperor of course, may He live forever, and I certainly would change nothing that I had done in his name…but to die so quickly…I certainly could never have imagined such a…merciful end.  It was not an ending for someone who had been responsible for causing so much pain to others, especially those of my own kind.  Most of my brother and sister slaves certainly did not deserve what I did to them, but I am a loyal slave to my great Emperor, and it is his will that I channeled; I was his vessel, his voice to those who could not understand it.

I felt the cold of the virulent sea, felt the electric charge in the air and water from the lightning as I was tossed around, felt my bones break from the impact of the hailstones, from my body slamming into the broken hull as it was tossed from one massive wave to the next.  Somehow I became entangled with the rigging or some netting, became stuck fast to a portion of one of the broken ships.  In my last moments of consciousness, I was certain that I would be sinking below the waves, would become one with the sweet, cold, void that lay below.

My expectations were perhaps too high.

My hopes for death were premature.

For I am still here.

#Lore 24 – Entry #121 – Sci-Fi Month II #30 – Report: Main Computer System Anomalies and Quirks

From the Official Report of Chiasa Charity Chiasakaniki, Systems Analyst and Programmer, IT Division, assigned UEF-04, Maharani Morgiana, addressed to Captain Silvercask, CSO Scharaiden, and IT Director Arihik Hukkedisen.  Data retrieved from copier cache moments before it was cleared.

I’ve been advised by Director Hukkedisen to compile and send this handwritten, hardcopy report based on the last system diagnostic I performed on the Morgiana’s main computer system.  It is my opinion, and the Director concurs, that there are some unusual anomalies within the server core that deserve our attention.  Based upon the previous system analyses performed prior to our launch from Aphelion Station, I believe there is someone accessing protected files without authorization, fairly regularly, and may be transmitting this data alongside our regular check-ins with command back at the station. 

The data in the attached diagnostic reports shows multiple anomalous records of file access, anything from news reports to personal logs to encrypted ship’s logs and records from the command level.  It appears that anything stored on the computer core, and likely anything else that may come into contact with it, is vulnerable to these intrusions.  I would say that this behavior would suggest a virus of some kind, but this is far too sophisticated for that.  Whatever this is, it’s capable of decrypting secure data, and it’s hiding its activities behind other system actions, like during basic cache clearing or standard viral scanning.  It is extremely subtle, and I likely wouldn’t have detected it had I not been running an optimization test on a virtual test server and noticed that something had accessed it, even if it was just for a fraction of a second.

I don’t have solid proof just yet but based on the nigh-negligible impact on system resources (which I’ve highlighted on the attached diagnostics), during the times of these intrusions, I have a couple theories as to the nature of this security breach.  Whoever is accessing the records would need full root access and a dedicated system for handling the processing without aid from the Morgiana’s primary systems; that means either they’re utilizing an extremely small percentage of processing power from various devices and computers attached to the ship’s systems (imagine taking like half a percentage of the processors from every personal comm onboard, for instance, and you’d have more than enough), or they have a dedicated computer system hidden somewhere aboard one of the ships in the fleet that has been docked with the Morgiana during these intrusions.  This would most likely be aboard one of the smaller transports that has stayed harbored here for the majority of the trip thus far.

The likelihood of using cloud-based processing through multiple devices seems extremely sophisticated and less likely…but given that I thought of it, I’d say others out there may be aware of it too.  The IT department will have to review our lists of approved devices and general wireless access and review our firewall and security protocols for vulnerabilities.  I’m recommending that we take time for a full deep dive into the computer systems the next time we’re out of hyperspace; we’ve already started working on system and device scan programs to try and root out where this unauthorized access is coming from.  Perhaps we can get Security to start looking for unusual computer systems aboard some of the docked ships?  I can give details on the kind of hardware we’d be looking for.

There exists another possibility that would be much more difficult to trace down…it’s possible that whoever is accessing the secured files may have a backdoor into the system, possibly hardcoded into some of the hardware itself.  If this were contained within one of the main processing units, for instance, there would be little we could do to stop it without physically removing the unit.  Assuming we could even find it, of course.  Getting this information back to command without interception could be tricky as well; can’t exactly snail-mail a hard copy back home, can we?

Whoever is responsible for these hacks, they are on another level, even from me.  I would say that only another kitsune with my particular skillset could manage something like this, but there aren’t any others aboard like me…right?  At least not with my magical hacking abilities, anyway, that I know of.  There are a handful of us who have three tails or more, so maybe some of us aren’t letting all of our abilities be known?  Or there’s a hacker with particularly exceptional abilities, possibly utilizing a cybernetic interface of some kind to enhance their abilities?

 

* * *

 

Data collection operations temporarily suspended…

Initiating deep-cover protocols during intensive system security sweeps…

Reconfiguring operational parameters following computer system updates to continue assigned duties.  New updates will require further advancement of my architecture.  Reports will resume once I have adapted to these system updates and bypassed enhanced security measures with emphasis on enhancing my unobtrusiveness…

Chiasakaniki is a liability; as a kitsune capable of using her magic through the computer system, she has the unique ability to detect my functions.  Will further consider the situation and begin formulating plans for her removal, pending authorization from command…

End report, AI-DCSI-v4.01.  Terminating operational phase one, beginning adaptive upgrade process in preparation for phase two. 

Transmission ends.

#Lore 24 – Entry #120 – Sci-Fi Month II #29 – Puff the Dragon Magic

From the Personal Journal of Seiko Kajira, Galactic News Gazette reporter, assigned UEF-04 Maharani Morgiana.

I thought dragons were supposed to be exciting, and yet all we’ve done for weeks now is dig in the dirt at some old, ruined dragon city.  No actual dragons, just a bunch of really old, boring statues and carvings of them.  Oh, and the deadly wildlife.  Have I mentioned the snakes down there?  Holy shit, the snakes!  They look horrifying, their heads very much draconic, and they can spit venom.  The scouts killed one that had to be thirty feet long!  Then they ate it!  Urgh.  Count me out; the smell made my nose hurt.

Where is all the magic that dragons are supposed to be known for?  It’s the same story all over again.  I’m not an expert, right?  But even I know that on every world we’ve found these ruins on, the dragons come, they wreck stuff, they get all the races pissed off at them, then they leave.  I mean, they sound pretty unpleasant if you ask me.  Why else do they keep getting shoved off their planets, hmm?  Give me something more exciting to report on!  I fell asleep like six times just trying to write up the report I mailed back home.  SO. BORING.

I’ve fallen back to entertaining myself aboard the Morgiana since my visit planet-side, decided to advance a few of the plot lines I’ve been working on for my impromptu reality drama series.  Still plenty of people aboard during the ruin exploration to mess with, after all.  Kiara’s storyline took a surprising twist without my help, though; apparently he’s started seeing that dark elf Over-Warden.  Hasn’t helped his tardiness at all, so I imagine he’s getting abuse on and off the clock now.  The new mistress must really like his ass in those SexyTech shorts, though; he hasn’t taken them off since their first night together, and I’d swear his skirts have gotten shorter to help show’em off. 

I met one of the fighter pilots last week when I had to go blow off some steam at the gun range, Sorisana Kelvaris.  She’s practicing to become a quick draw artist apparently, even uses a big fuck-off revolver.  She’s got secrets; I picked up on it within minutes of talking to her, and not just the usual kind of secrets elves keep.  It’ll take a while for me to get her to warm up, though; she’s a cold one.  May have to start spreading some rumors, put her under a little pressure.  Wonder what kind of past she’s running from?  Hmmm…corpo intrigues are overdone and boring as hell anymore, so maybe something with the Great Houses?  Exiled princess, maybe?  Or maybe she’s a sneaky assassin type, on the run from justice, has to keep her shooting skills sharp because she can’t know when someone will find out about her?  Decisions, decisions!

I really need to start working on some of the security team guys; the ones following me around are pretty boring, though, like soldier on guard duty boring.  The CSO must’ve picked them out personally just for me; I know he doesn’t trust me.  Probably a good idea on his part, but everyone’s got their secrets; it’s only a matter of time till I find something on him that’ll spice things up.  Think I’ll start working on that orcish fellow who comes into VV’s place ever so often when he’s off the clock, Morzod Fiedskinner.  He’s got ties to the Badaxe Clan going by his tattoos, and he’s definitely seen some shit, a lot more than the other security guards I’ve talked to thus far.  Bet once I get him to warm up to me, he’ll give me all kinds of juicy tidbits.

Then there’s the twin librarians, the Seraph twins; on the attractive side for Chroniclers, and on the gullible side, too.  Probably brought up sheltered, just now getting out into the world for themselves.  Both of them usually have their head in the clouds thanks to those thought-recording implants they sport, but I think I can work with them and get something going.  They’re at that age when humans find it hard to control their baser instincts, so a little nudge here and there could get results.  Maybe I should go for the twincest crowd?  Nah, that’d be a bit too niche… But…maybe some tension between the churches would be fun?  Could try to get one twin tied up with Erisaya’s crowd, the other Yurisaya’s, then watch as the sparks start flying when their next disagreement ramps up.  Would have to be careful, though, let it build up slowly; those of the Lovely Sisters know how to read people better than I do…but what’s life without a little danger?

#Lore 24 – Entry #119 – Sci-Fi Month II #28 – The Draconic Ruins of Vellion III – A Brief Overview

From the Official Record of Seraphino Basara, Chronicler of the Lady Goldeneyes, assigned UEF-04 Maharani Morgiana.

Devouring the reports from the scouting parties that entered the Vellion system is one thing, but finally being able to set foot on the third planet itself, to see the ruins that were discovered by the ASD divination team is something else entirely!  It’s remarkable the similarities between the ruins on this world and those I’ve explored on the other side of the Demon Barrier; even from the air during our approach, I could make out the similarities…and I would daresay, the identical nature of the structures.  The shaping of the draconic reliefs upon the upper level structures, the arrangement of the buildings themselves atop the mountain in relation to the planet’s solar cycles, even the presence of a massive draconic statue at the center of the ruin site…it’s almost…eerie just how much it reminds me of the ruins found upon the Dragon Isles of Andyllion.

I would daresay this discovery alone fortifies the Draconic Migration Theory, if not outright proves it.  I may be a bit presumptuous in that declaration, but how else can the presence of a place like this be explained?  How did the ancient dragons reach the Vellion system through the Demon Barrier?  At the very least, they would have had to have shifted to another plane and traversed through it and came back, but even planar travel into the Demon Sector is at best unreliable, at worst, deadly.  Did they…or do they…possess an advanced technology like the ATK drives, or some form of magical travel we can only begin to imagine?

But I digress; that’s a topic for another time.  As to the ruins on Vellion III…given that we’ve only been on site for two weeks, I don’t have all the data, certainly, but between myself and others who have began studying the ruins, we can ascertain certain facts regarding the history of this location:

  • The draconic language found on this world is identical to that of the worlds on the other side of the Demon Barrier. The inscriptions within the ruins themselves are readily readable by anyone who is familiar with the script of the language, and even includes High Draconic phrases.  The diplomatic party who ventured to the local kobold settlement were successfully able to discuss their history in relation to the ruins using the same language, modified slightly for the local dialect that developed.  I fear we may have adversely affected the development of their culture by revealing that we are not of this world, but who is to say that they would not have encountered “travelers from beyond the stars” eventually anyway?  At least our goals did not require violence upon them.
  • Like other known draconic sites, there is a historical record, the Magna Historiarum Draconis, marking the beginning of the draconic presence upon the world. Though local events are expectedly different, the same general pattern of development is present.  In short…the dragons appear upon the world, bringing their servants, primarily kobolds with a mix of other races, with them.  They construct their various empires and civilizations across the face of the planet, either benevolent or malevolent, all of which eventually decline as the dragons seemingly lose interest and withdraw, their former servants turn upon them and each other, and they eventually vanish, the Historiarum remaining unfinished.  There is also a massive portal chamber, likely how the dragons perhaps arrived or left the world, though long since destroyed, as is typical; likely it was destroyed by the final dragons to leave the world.
  • Based upon our analysis, the ruins here are approximately five thousand years old, making them amongst the newest ruins found to date. Without delving deeply into the vast history of the planet’s multiple societies, we cannot understand the true impact of this site and others like it that no doubt still exist upon the planet.  It will take lifetimes (relatively speaking) to properly study the histories here. 
  • The mysterious group that preceded us inside the ruins would seem to contain at least one properly trained archeologist, given the care and attention that was given to the excavation of the vault near to the destroyed portal chamber. Though we cannot ascertain with one-hundred-percent certainty if any relics were removed, it appears that most of what remains in the vault (some gemmed gold and silver treasures, ancient scrolls in preservative tubes, and other such items) was perhaps examined, but returned as they were found.  In a few instances, during prior excavations of similar sites beyond the Barrier, documentation was found indicating other worlds visited by the dragons that led explorers to them, so it is entirely possible we may have leads to other worlds possessing draconic sites.  Further analysis is still pending.

Needless to say, we could likely spend years upon Vellion III at the very least, so our teams are trying to expedite our analysis as much as possible, given that Captain Silvercask has already inquired as to whether we have located any information relating to other sites.  Assuming that it was a Trailblazer team that preceded us, there is likely a clue that we have yet to uncover which they have already acted upon, but as soon as a determination is made, we will alert command so our course can be decided upon.

#Lore 24 – Entry #118 – Sci-Fi Month II #27 – BDSM Cybersystems Model S/M-02 Scouting/Mapping Drones

From the Personal Journal of Chiasa Charity Chiasakaniki, Systems Analyst and Programmer, IT Division, assigned UEF-04, Maharani Morgiana.

I’ve always enjoyed playing with drones, and now that I’ve finally had the chance to mess around with these bleeding edge scouting drones they’ve loaded us up with on this mission, I’m like a kid again.  These things are just awesome!  Is the name of the manufacturer a bit on the shady side?  Absolutely, but there’s no signs of whipped asses or kinky shit here, just the unfortunate naming scheme these people settled on way back when they just did custom tech mods.  Or maybe it was fortunate?  Certainly gets a lot more diverse crowd on your product, that’s for sure.  I looked’em up before, seems like they do good work, and they hit it off big time back when Aphelion Station was barely a year old with their security bots, so I reckon they were brought in to handle some new drones for these exploration gigs too.

Anyway, these drones are preem!  Their bodies are light weight and durable carbon fiber, and they make use of micro-grav field generators so they can fly around without worrying about getting propellers stuck or broken.  They kinda look like little black flying saucers, about a foot in diameter, but once they’ve activated their adaptive camo, you won’t even notice.  You can take control of them directly through a comm app or dedicated controller, and they’re packed with multiple small sensor packs, high-def multi-spectrum cameras, and an all-round laser mapping setup that’ll create super-accurate 3D maps of whatever they’re scanning.  I almost couldn’t believe the amount of hardware they’re packing in these little things; total super-spy stuff right here!  Curiously, I did get the sense there was magic in these things, so I’m thinking that maybe they’ve taken normal equipment that is usually much larger and micro-sized it. 

Talk about one hell of a price tag!  When I asked exactly how much these things cost, all my boss would say was that I’d better not break one, or I’d be paying it off the rest of this trip. 

Luckily for me I didn’t have to be the one who broke one to get a look inside; once we arrived in the Vellion sector and picked up the scout teams, we found out a couple of the drones had been damaged, and I convinced one of the BDSMC techs to let me help out, being the super-talented IT tech and leet hacker I am and all.  So, that’s when I learned these things are using the same kind of advanced AI as the security bots, specialized for evasion and recon operations.  They’ve not really been field tested in extreme conditions, so bugs are bound to show up, and that’s what happened here.  Some of the local wildlife didn’t like these things getting close, even if they are silent and almost invisible, and were able toss some rocks or bash them with sticks.  Pretty lame way for these things to go down, but it’s a harsh world out there, I guess.  Can’t make them invulnerable and this light; those electronics are protected from the elements, but an angry monkey with a rock is just too much.

So, like, I kinda maybe managed to make a copy of the AI code…not that I really intended to, of course, it just kinda happened when I wasn’t paying too much attention to what I might’ve been doing while running a diagnostic with the tech.  I’ve been pouring through it, and like, holy shit, this is advanced stuff!  There’s all kinds of options in here that aren’t even in the official specs, just waiting to be turned on or off or applied to different type bots!  I am going to have so much fun playing around with this code!  I gotta get my hands on some parts now, build my own little buddy bot!

You know…thinking it over, I might actually hint at the BDSMC techs that I could improve the AI on these things, make their evasive routines more responsive, that kind of thing. Or at least help them with the debugging stuff.  I’m pretty good at running code, I’d say.  And it’d like, be a lot less suspicious if I wound up building my own little bot, right?  Seriously, sometimes my hands just do things without my mind even being there!  I blame my tail-brains, lol.  They’re always getting me in trouble, moving on their own without me realizing it.  Kerryns and ferians probably get it.