Tag: Andyllion

#Lore24 – Entry #246 – Fantasy Month III #3 – The Unicorn that Went up in Flames

As Told by Teelsa “the Swift” Dawndancer

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, good man!  I must say, though your accommodations are rather…spartan…I am nonetheless quite pleased that you’ve chosen to invite me into your humble establishment.  When shall the performances begin?  I would like some time to practice my craft, after all, though it seems the luggage boy has misplaced my instruments- Hmm?  What?  This isn’t an inn?  Well, I am shocked!  Absolutely shocked!  I suppose it’s a good thing I didn’t complain about the quality of the meals, then, hmm?  When is meal time, by the way?  One’s stomach can only wait so long before it starts complaining, you know.

Oh, the Bronze Unicorn?  My, what a sad, sad affair that was.  Fine establishment, absolutely the best I’d ever performed at in Caerlon, and the best people!  Oh, the patrons were marvelous!  So willing to offer their coin for a song and dance, absolutely the best one could have ever asked for, really.  And their chef, oh, an absolute master of his craft, I can assure you!  Why, if I were to have stayed on there as the inn’s resident bard, I may well have been on the road to- My good man, would you stop interrupting me?  I’m telling the story you asked for.  Oh, very well…some cannot appreciate the art of the slow burn…um, well, perhaps that phrase is a bit inappropriate given the nature of what happened. 

So, it went something like this; mind you, this is but my initial draft, so it is quite rough.  Ahem…

“In the heart of Caerlon, where shadows blend and twine,

A warrior strode with purpose, her gaze a sharpened line.

She bested every challenge, with grace and steel so bright,

But as the darkness gathered, fate would test her might.

 

Hatae, the acrobat, danced in the fire’s glow,

A blur of shadowed motion, in rhythm’s ebb and flow.

But envy’s cruel embrace, in the hearts of men and drow,

Sent hunters to the Unicorn, to strike and lay them low.

 

Two forces dark converged, each unaware of kin,

One clad in night’s own veil, the other stained by sin.

Led by twins of fiendish blood, their eyes like burning coal,

They sought to claim the hero’s life and tear apart her soul.

 

But Eri stood unyielding, as chaos filled the air,

With Hatae at her side, they fought with strength and flair.

The flames consumed the inn, the Bronze Unicorn no more,

Yet from the ash, the heroes rose, with legends to explore.

 

The mazoku twins, in greed, sought to reap their deadly toll,

But in their grasping hunger, they lost all sense of control.

For heroes are not felled by those with hearts of blackened night,

They shine with ever burning fire and stand for what is right.”

 

Well, what did you think?  You’re positively awe-struck, aren’t you?  I know, it is a bit basic, but as I said, I’m still composing the ballad, so-  What?  What’s a drow?  It’s an archaic name for a dark elf, of course.  A bit too archaic, hmm?  Criticism noted!

No, I assure you, good sir, that every word of my tale is true!  There absolutely were two groups hunting my companions that night, and one of them was indeed led by a pair of twin mazoku!  Well, not exactly twins, you see, for one had skin of crimson, the other azure, but they were identical otherwise.  Quite the proficient spellcasters, I might add, and I do believe that it was the red one that used the fire spell that set the poor Unicorn alight.  No, I did not get their names…it never came up in the course of our most chaotic flight from the inn; when one is being chased as we were, you don’t stop to ask who is doing the chasing!  Though I do believe my companions know more than I about those hunters, perhaps you should ask them?  It is not yet my story to tell, you see. 

Well, yes, there was something curious about the twins…they each wore some rather peculiar jewelry; I do think they wore a set of Bands of Grounding, but curiously enough, those devices did nothing to hinder their spellcasting.  Broken, perhaps, or unique? 

My good man, I grow weary, and my throat is dry.  What’s the house wine, and may I trouble you for some of it?  Or ale?  Or, gods forbid, water?”

 

 

 

*Full disclosure:  I used ChatGPT to generate the song lyrics, because I don’t have a lyrical bone in my body and coming up with something that sounded decent would have taken far too long in the context of a daily lore entry like this.  

#Lore24 – Entry #245 – Fantasy Month III #2 – Leaving Home, Chasing a Dream

As Told by Hatae Ulla, Exotic Entertainer, Dedicated of Yurisaya

“Oh, and here I’d thought you’d forgotten all about me!  Hmm?  Oh, the shackles?  They were chaffing so I took them off.  I can put them back on if you want, but it really won’t matter, will it?  You DO know who I am, right?  Haven’t seen my posters around town, then?  A shame, here I thought I was finally starting to get my name out there…

What?  Oh, the Caerlon incident?  That was a real tragedy, that.  I really do feel so bad about the Bronze Unicorn; it was a great place, my first big venue, actually.  I’d never had crowds like that before, and it was the first place anyone had managed to beat my challenge!  It’ll always have a place in my heart because of that!

Hmmm?  Oh, the fire?  That wasn’t our fault.  Not at all!  How did it all start?  Well…I don’t usually like to talk about things like that, you see.  Oh, okay, since you really want to know, I guess I can say something about it… So, I’m from Shey’Inasrith originally, you see, and until you’ve lived there, maybe even just visited, you really wouldn’t understand just how HORRIBLE a place it is.  You know about the whole game the elvish great houses play, I’m sure, being an astute representative of the city and all that, so just imagine that, but even more cutthroat and moving at breakneck speeds.  It wasn’t uncommon to see blood spilled in the street daily over a squabble between noble houses or some perceived slight that may or may not have been true.  It’s a nightmare, really, even for one born there.

The fire?  I’m getting there.  Anyway, I’d had enough of the politics, always dreamed of better things that didn’t involve killing in the name of the Mantis Queen, trying to curry favor, you know.  I just don’t have the personality for it, I guess; I’m too softhearted for that kind of thing when you get right down to it.  So, I left, didn’t even say a word to anyone back home because that kind of thing could get you killed in a place like that.  I wasn’t entirely sure how I’d manage, but at least I’d started chasing my dreams, you know?  To put smiles on people’s faces, to give them something to ease their burdens through entertainment, satisfy my ego a little, that sort of thing. 

It just so happens that I’m really, really good at what I do.  So you’ve really never heard about my show?  I thought you’d have heard something about it…I mean, I’ve been making a name for myself for over a year now, slowly making my way to Arcavarlon, drawing in hundreds over the course of the week I spend in town.  It’s really something to have so many try for a private date with yours truly.  And when you have looks like I do, even being a dark elf from Shey’Inasrith doesn’t matter.  That’s what I love about the lands beyond my homeland!  People are just so open-minded!  Well, most of them…there’s been some that I could tell you about that haven’t been so welcoming to me, certainly.  Oh, you know, I’d put money on it being one of those who started the fire, trying to sabotage me and steal the pot that I’d built up!  You should really be looking at them, not little old me! 

Names?  Well…I don’t really know any?  I mean, I’ve got this one noble who was a bit obsessed with me, I think, Xenia, but she certainly wouldn’t try something that brazen!  She’s in it for the challenge, something to spend her coin on, you know?  I got the impression she’s not got a lot going on in her life, so this really piqued her interests.  I suppose it could be some of those who don’t care for dark elves; I’ve noticed they’re not especially common around here, and I do get some odd looks sometimes.

Oh, right, the fire!  Well, you did want me to start from the beginning, so don’t go getting yourself all worked up over me doing just that!  Be glad you didn’t ask for specifics, or we could be here all night!  Do you realize how many things I’ve gone through since I left home?  It wasn’t just a knack for escape artistry that prompted me to start this show, certainly not!  It’s a survival skill, too!  I figure if I can wiggle out of a bad situation, then maybe I can learn to avoid getting into them altogether, you know?  My charms don’t always work on people, so I have to be quick, and I have to be slippery!  Though sometimes it’s better to be slow and methodical, you see, especially when it comes to expertly done ropework.  It’s all a question of just how much time you have.  That’s what makes my challenges so much fun, you see!  Finding that proper balance is key!  If I’m too slow, they win, but if I’m too fast, it takes away from the spectacle!

Hey, no need to get upset!  I’m getting there!  Wait, what’s that muzzle for?  Hey, is that from my collection?!”

#Lore24 – Entry #244 – Fantasy Month III #1 – The Long Journey to Caerlon

As Told by Erilantielle “Eri” Kitami, Champion of Erisaya

“Why did I come to Caerlon?  To rest, relax, and enjoy the local flavor, of course, just like everyone else.  It’s known as one of the best cities in the land for that kind of thing outside of Arcavarlon itself, right?  What?  Not good enough for you?  Well, I guess you could say there’s more to it than that, yeah… You really want the whole story?  You sure about that?  Well, alright, I guess.  I’ve got nothing but time right now anyway…

So, it all started back when I was abandoned by my family, whoever they were, into the arms of the loving sisters at one of Erisaya’s holy whorehouses.  I had only my given name, but that was more than enough for the sisters, given what it is; not every day a redheaded child is delivered to you out of the blue that shares your goddess’s namesake, am I right?  They saw me as good luck, sharing a little bit of the goddess’s own name and all.  Some of them made a real big deal out of that, tried to make it a lot more than what it was, I think.  Anyway, I was adopted by the Erisayans, raised by the church, and eventually took on the name of my adoptive mother, Kitami, one of the few elvish holy whores.

Life was good for a while when I was growing up.  Got to see life outside the elvish kingdoms for what it was, mixed in with so many short-lived races.  Really gives you a different kind of perspective on things, you know?  I was all set to join in on the church as another of the sisters when I was old enough, just seemed the obvious choice, you know? 

Well, some things went down that I don’t like to talk about…suffice to say that happy life came crashing to a halt when someone decided to summon up a demon and use my home as the sacrifice.  There was…a lot of blood…a lot of suffering… I was meant to be the crowning sacrifice, you know.  Meant to be the vessel for that demon… Well, Erisaya wasn’t going to have that, and she got good and angry about the whole affair.  Channeled her holiness right through me once she got wind of what had happened and sent that demon packing, all those in the cult that had come to town along with it. 

Ever hear of the Rose’s Thorns?  Nah, figured you hadn’t; they’re pretty rare, even amongst the Erisayan faith.  We’re usually a pretty easy-going lot, not prone to stirring up trouble, but woe be to you if you get the Lady angry enough to call out a Thorn against you.  I was too green to be a proper Thorn then, but Erisaya saw to that, guiding me towards someone who taught me how to fight, and others who were friendly to the faith, and so it was I got set on a quest to root out every last member of that demon-loving death cult.  Took us damn near fifty years of traveling all over this side of the world, but we saw it through to the end, sent every one of them straight to their master in whatever festering hole it dwelt within.

So, after all that, with most of my friends too old to keep up the adventuring life, we went our own ways.  I decided it was time for a little rest of my own, but had good memories of Caerlon, so that’s why I wound up there again.  Yeah, that’s right.  This is where I was raised, and that story about the whorehouse massacre?  Yeah, that was one of Erisaya’s temples, the one I was raised in.  It’s not there anymore; got burned down by the cult during the chaos when the Lady got angry, and most around here don’t remember it, having been so long ago. 

What?!  Now that’s just stupid.  Why would what happened back then have any bearing on what happened at the Bronze Unicorn?  Hey, you asked me to start at the beginning, and when you ask that to an elf, you better be prepared for a long conversation; I’d rather not have drudged up those memories, just so you know. 

Look here, it wasn’t our fault, alright?  Just ask any of my companions, they’ll tell you the same!  Fine, you do that, then!  Well, go on, I’m tired of looking at you, too!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Truly, I am liberated in my heart and soul.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#Lore24 – Entry #150 – Muckenmyre Month #29 – The Truths we Learn for Ourselves

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

Satella and I awoke with the camp the following morning after a deep, peaceful slumber.  Though my mind would later be filled with many questions and puzzles I could not immediately work out, for the time being I simply enjoyed the atmosphere of the camp, the simplicity of their lifestyle.  We joined Emika and a few others for breakfast that morning.  It was another pleasant experience, though I told them we had companions waiting for us near the Muckenmyre and had business yet in Grimbridge that we had to tend to.  They respected my sense of duty and we would part on friendly terms, though I was quite surprised when Emika extended an offer for me to travel amongst them if I decided that I wanted to be part of their family. 

I didn’t know what to say at first, feeling a sudden, strong desire to take her up on the offer, but deciding that I should consider my future more carefully first.  I thanked her graciously and told her I would consider her offer, learning that they would be in Ryanthyr for a few more days before moving on to the southeast for milder winters and friendly territory, but that they planned to come back this way in the spring, which should give me ample time to consider their offer.  I thanked her again and said my goodbyes before Satella and I returned to our inn and retrieved our horses and a few supplies for the road, heading back toward Grimbridge.

I would not be much for conversation on the journey back, meeting up with Jessiryn and Augra around noon to continue down Grimbridge Way together.  My mind would be churning almost nonstop, trying to find the truth hidden amongst all the new information I had learned.  After my initial shock of learning what I had from Justicar Grayforge and Emika, even of the nature of the kerryn language itself, I could finally start to make sense of it all. 

Again, my well-trained slave’s mind tried to tell me that all I had learned was false, that the Emperor was simply doing his duty to protect the world from another kerryn catastrophe by keeping us in check…and yet the other part of my mind, the newly awakening state of a free kerryn, could counter those arguments easily with all that I had learned in a matter of a couple days.  Could all that I had learned be wrong?  Perhaps, but the words were spoken with conviction from people I felt I could trust, from which I sensed no deception.  They were truths to them, at least, and perhaps they were indeed facts…but could not the same be said of what was being taught to and about the kerryn within the Empire?  How big a part in the truth did the elves play in it all?  Their influence seemed to be much greater here than in the Empire, so perhaps they had manipulated the facts to a greater extent, but to what end?

To say that I was a conflicted, confused mess during that journey would be putting it mildly.

The journey back to Grimbridge was uneventful, save for some cooler temperatures and colder rains on the way back, and as we came back into town, I willed myself to push my muddled, conflicting thoughts away for a time so that I could properly greet Mayor Pleasence and others within the town.  The constable and the town guards had returned safely, and we were finally given our rewards for the services wee had rendered with the twins and bandits.  Though in the grand scheme of things, the pouch of gold and silver coins was a trifling amount, but for me, it was a stunning amount of wealth.  With my simple needs, it would last a long time, especially in Grimbridge.

I was briefly uncertain of what would come next, but as it turns out, I would have a job offer already waiting.  Constable Tamblyn asked me to stay on as a marshal for the town since I had done such a good job previously, and due to what would likely be a busy winter for them.  With the warmer climate in the region, and a worse than usual winter being predicted to the north, it meant more ships coming here and traveling along the Way, and that brought with it a lot more disturbances and potential problems.  I readily agreed to continue my services, for I still felt obligated to assist the town that had done so much for me.

And so it was that my winter in Grimbridge would begin.

#Lore24 – Entry #149 – Muckenmyre Month #28 – Amongst the Kerryn Nomads

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

For all the excitement I had within me after speaking to free kerryn for the first time, I rested surprisingly well that night, even awoke later than I usually did.  Satella admitted that she could see a difference in me already the following morning as we practiced our forms and was happy for me.  I told her of my plans, and once we had discussed matters with Jessiryn, Augra, and the constable, Satella and I decided to stay behind in Ryanathyr for a while longer after the business with the magistrate was concluded and the men from Grimbridge were on their way back home.  I couldn’t be sure exactly how long it would be before we would follow, but Jessiryn and Augra said they would wait for us on the outskirts of the Muckenmyre to accompany us back to town. 

Once the business of the town was done and we had bid farewell to the men of Grimbridge and our companions, Satella and I headed off for the nomad camp, which was just outside the city walls to the east.  In the clearing at the edge of the wood lay their two dozen or so brightly colored wagons, their horses in a makeshift stable off to one side, brightly colored tents set up all around the area.  Men and women were working about the camp, tending the daily chores, while perhaps a dozen children were running about playing, while another handful of older, younger adults, aided with the many chores. 

My slave’s mind wondered at the fact that there were no slave collars to be seen.

As we approached, Shani the dancer bounded out to greet us, looking refreshed and full of energy.  Though she too was invited in, Satella excused herself, saying that she had better visit the shrine to Yurisaya lest the Dark Lady become cross with her, but promised to return and bade me to enjoy myself for as long as I wished.  As I was led into the camp, I took in all the new scents, of the kerryn themselves, of the foods they had prepared earlier that morning, of the perfumes and herbs…the whole scene seemed almost a dream that I struggled to believe was real.

I greeted the other entertainers as we passed through the camp, busy tending their daily duties before they could go out and earn some additional money or trade in the city, and was soon brought to the wagon of the clan’s elder, Emika, who I would soon learn was also their healer and herbalist, attended by one of her daughters, Kumi, and an apprentice, Juichi.  I greeted them as warmly and casually as I could manage, still finding it difficult to behave in a manner more common in these lands.  She was quite a bit older than I, her hair having turned silver-gray (whereas mine was naturally a platinum color), her fur retaining its orange color, though, her face sun-darkened and showing lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, her clothing more simple browns and greens, though she still wore a wide purple sash about her waist.  It was rare to see a kerryn of her age in the Empire, though I had noticed several older kerryn amongst the nomads.

As her daughter served us a blend of tea I had not had before, a darker brew spiced with cinnamon and ginger, and we sat near the low fire, watching some herbal mixture cure, Emika began asking me about my journey to this side of the world, how I was getting along now that my collar had been removed.  I recounted my experiences thus far, giving additional details as she asked for them.  She eventually turned her questions to the Empire itself, even asking if I still had my slave markings, which I showed her.  She and her attendants were upset by the nature of the brands, at the scars that were around it from previous brandings and said that she had heard they used magic tattoos.

I explained why mine were different, what my duties were, lowering my head in newly discovered shame as I explained that I used to train new slaves and punish disobedient ones.  Then, quite freely, I explained the second mark, that of the Stellae Illustris, and what my duties had been as a member of their ranks.  I would never have considered giving this information freely before, but now, it seemed to flow out of me of its own accord, even the details of how we rooted out rebels and put them to the question and of how they had turned even the language we now spoke into a closely held secret.  As our conversation would continue, I would also admit to not knowing some of the words that I heard during the songs of the previous night, and even some of which she had used, for they had never been taught to me, and I had only guessed their meanings from the rest of what was being said.

After learning of my shameful past, I had expected that perhaps Emika would ask me to leave, too offended by my presence in their wholesome camp, but instead she bid me to follow her.  She led me about the camp, telling me of the history of her people, the Nakao clan, of how her own grandmother had been a fortunate escapee from the Empire that had found her way to these shores with a handful of other former slaves with the help of some world-travelling adventurers who taught them some of free living, eventually guiding them into the nomad clans that they would eventually join. 

Eventually she led me beyond the camp and into the great woods, following a well-worn trail through the mighty trees, telling me then about the many “truths” of the Great Cataclysm, telling me some of the same information as Justicar Grayforge, though also presenting how other races, specifically the elves of the ancient Dominion often presented the facts of the matter.  Eventually this turned to the nature of the kerryn people and the fallen goddess Sarresh, of how most of her teachings and ways have been lost to time as her people sought other deities to serve and worship.  The nomads, she revealed, traveled the land looking for Saressh, of any knowledge of her they could find, in the hopes that one day they might find her again.  I could only begin to guess at the possibility of resurrecting a long dead god, for such things were far beyond a someone such as myself.

I listened to Emika intently, absorbing every detail I could of what she told me as we walked, of the stories of her peoples’ journeys and history, the trail passing through several small streams and clearings, circling the city, though never leaving sight of its walls.  We passed others on the trail, citizens of the city returning from a hunt or seeking some solitude and were paid little mind but for a kindly greeting.  Some time later, well after midday, we finally returned to the camp, where I was treated to some of their cooked meats and a vegetable soup, even some of their honeyed bread.  The food was simple, but I found it delicious, and thanked them for allowing me to take part.

With the late afternoon came more rain, and then Emika asked about my future, what I planned to do with myself having learned all that I had.  Truly I did not yet have an answer.  I could not ignore the voice in my head that demanded I return to the Empire, to continue my service as a proper slave.  Nor could I another voice that told me to leave the Empire behind, to find a new purpose, to live…free.  Emika easily discerned my internal conflict, and eased me somewhat, telling me that I need not find an answer immediately, and that I should continue as I had, learning and thinking about what it was I had learned since my arrival here.

I aided her with some of her work after our lunch and asked her about what gods they worshiped within her clan.  Though they ultimately sought our lost Mother, they mostly paid their respects to Uvtarr-Omos, the god of travels and exploration, though they were often acknowledging several others as well, for there were many dangers and challenges on their journeys, and it was wise to keep many deities in mind.  I asked her what she knew of Lashana, and she told me that the Lady of Justice was perhaps too zealous at times, and far too strict with her practices for a free-roaming people like them, though her displeasure with the Empire was certainly well-placed and appreciated.

As evening approached, Satella returned and was brought to us.  She was welcomed as I had been, as had several others from the city throughout the day, I noticed, as they came to conduct some business or visit with a friend.  Emika bid us stay with them for the night, and so we did, mingling with others of the clan now, listening to more stories that were told that evening; though these were told mainly for the children, I was fully absorbed into them, for we had no such history or tales of our own in the Empire.  After dinner, there was more dancing and singing, and this time I was drawn into the festivities by members of the clan who insisted Satella and I dance with them.  Though it had been some time since I had danced, and their dances were different from those with which I was familiar, I remembered my training and quickly adapted, and found it rather amusing that Satella, for all her agility and knowledge of the Arts, struggled to keep up.

It was perhaps the most fun I’d had in my life, almost like every trouble was forgotten, at least for a short while, and for the very briefest of times, I had forgotten what it was like to be a slave.  I was so very glad Satella had been there to experience the night with me, and joined me in the tent we were given for the night.

#Lore24 – Entry #148 – Muckenmyre Month #27 – Entertainment and Invitations

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

The first of the songs I would hear that night came to an end with a round of applause and shouts for more as we descended to the common room.  As we descended the stairs, I thought of the sound of their speech, and, though I hadn’t thought much of it during my earlier distress, realized that their way of speaking was much different from what I had been taught.  They spoke with odd inflections, saying familiar words with different stresses on different syllables, generally spoke faster and almost with a slurring to the words, not to mention the many words I did not recognize and had to puzzle out from the context of the song.  As their next song began, I would have to force myself to pay close attention to the words, which were just as familiar as they were strange.

I saw a few kerryn in the gathered crowd, dressed more like the people of Ryanathyr, dining with humans or dwarves or elves, and upon the stage in the corner of the room were the kerryn nomads, in their brightly colored sashes and ribbons, two men, three women.  We had spotted Jessiryn and Augra in the opposite corner, and at his motion, came to their table as the next song began.  He knew of my earlier distress, and I assured him that I was more or less back to normal and would explain myself later. 

The nomad men and one of the women started playing their instruments, one a flute, one a lute, and the third a small hand drum, the second woman standing aside and humming along with the tune as the song began, the last beginning to sway slowly along with the music, ringing the small cymbals upon her fingers.  After a slow buildup, the music sped up, the pace quickening as the singer’s voice strengthened and she sang, the dancer beginning to sway her body and show off her curves, shaking her hips and backside to the delight of the men in the crowd.  Her dances were not entirely unfamiliar, and though I had some familiarity with the nature of the dance, the feel of the performance was entirely different.  There was a different kind of passion at work behind their song and dance, a true love of the art, the desire to share their expression with the crowd. 

As I watched, I began to listen more closely to the lyrics of the song, to process the inflections, tones, and subtle shifts in the way they spoke, the different way they phrased certain things to a dd a lyrical quality to the words that had never been part of the corruption of the language taught to me by the Stellae Illustris.  The song told a whimsical story, of a traveler going from one town to another, and their many amorous activities along the way and the troubles that followed.  During the especially bawdy parts, which were honestly rather tame compared to what I had experienced as a pleasure slave in my homeland, the dancer moved amongst the crowd, shedding her clothes more and more as she went until she was down to a skimpy, diaphanous outfit that barely hid anything.

The song shifted seamlessly into another, this one at an even faster pace and without words, which prompted the dancer to take to the bar and to the tables, effortlessly leaping upon them, gyrating and twirling about, her silks swirling around her, earning cheers for her acrobatic and erotic display.  She made sure to visit each table, leaping between them, landing without disturbing the food and drink that lay atop them. 

She visited our table last, dipping low toward me, and I heard her whisper “Seek us out after our performance, sister,” before she went twirling off to the stage once again as the song came to an end.  Though I felt some amount of apprehension at the invitation, I likely would have done so regardless, though I was curious as to why she had invited me to join them.  There was another, slower song following, then the singer took a break while the band played a jovial tune, and the dancer went amongst the crowd, collecting her discarded sashes along with any coin that was offered for their services. 

My spirits had undoubtedly lifted by the time the kerryn had finished up for the evening, much of the crowd making their way out of the tavern at the late hour.  As the entertainers took to their own table and finally sat to enjoy some food and drink of their own, I noticed that one more seat had been brought to their table and took it as confirmation of their invitation.  I excused myself from my companions, Satella patting my arm encouragingly, and came to their table bowing in greeting, and speaking our language openly for the first time, though after hearing their songs, I felt as if I spoke it as a child speaking her first words.  They were amused my formality as I introduced myself, and much less formally introduced themselves in return.  The dancer was named Shani, the singer Kiri, the lutist Kinjo, the flutist Yukiyo, and the drummer Takeji. 

Takeji admitted that he had witnessed me on the street earlier, saw my distress and sudden rush into the tavern.  As he spoke, I asked him to slow down, for I had trouble following his speech, and explained to him that my knowledge of the language was only gained recently.  He approached the subject gently but had surmised that I was originally from the Empire, perhaps an escaped slave.  The truth was hardly as simple as that, but I explained the short version of what had brought me to Ryanathyr, noting how my dialect and pronunciations differed from theirs, even when they slowed their speech and shifted their words.  They knew of a handful of others who had escaped from their slavery, not amongst their own clan, but encountered during their travels, said that they had stood out much like I did by their very formal ways of dealing with others. 

We spoke for some time, not of the Empire, but of their journeys across the land, of the cities and towns that lay beyond Ryanathyr.  There were many kerryn nomads clans as I would learn, but many more who lived amongst the other races in the cities and towns, and even cities and regions that they called their own, that they ruled for themselves.  I could hardly believe what they told me to be true, but my inquisitor’s honed perception told me they spoke no words that were not true, or at least, that they believed untrue. 

Before any of us knew it, midnight had come and gone, and our fatigue had grown considerably.  Takeji extended an invitation for me to visit their caravan the following day, to speak to their clan elder if I wished to know more about them or their histories.  I was undeniably curious to know more, and accepted, seeing them out of the inn before I too retired for the night, my companions having done so much earlier in the evening. 

#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.