Tag: Ashleyr

#Lore24 – Entry #143 – Muckenmyre Month #22 – Grimbridge Justice

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fear within the jail rose significantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#Lore24 – Entry #129 – Muckenmyre Month #8 – Ashleyra the Witch of the Swamp

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

In my mess of thoughts concerning my future that night, as dawn approached, I became aware of a subtle shift in the air outside.  From my window, in the faint light of the lanterns hanging along the Span, I could see that not a soul moved at this hour, and that a fog was coming in, spreading rapidly from the north, from the depths of the Muckenmyre itself.  I knew immediately that this was not natural, could feel the magic in the air as the gray enveloped the town.  Immediately on alert, I eased silently from my bed to peer more closely at the gathering fog.  To my surprise, I heard movement in the house; the mayor was already awake, and in moments, he stepped lightly through the front room and out the door, dressed for the day, it seemed, and headed toward the Span. 

Curious by virtue of my inquisitor’s nature, immediately suspicious of a plot of some kind, I waited until the mayor had neared the Span and slipped out of my window, my bare feet silent upon the slightly muddy stones.  Keeping low and using the fog to my advantage, I hurried to follow the mayor, easily tracking his path.  Spotting the watch towers as I cleared the row of houses, I could see the night watch still in place, none of them seemingly aware that the fog wasn’t natural, none more alert of a possible attack. 

As I came upon the Span, I saw movement upon the river, a single flatboat coming down the side closer to the far end of the Span.  The fog had obscured it to some extent, but I could make out a single figure upon it, wearing an earthy-colored cloak that obscured their features.  As they neared a small dock, I saw something else move over the bundles and bags that filled the boat, a reddish-colored muskrat, running excitedly back and forth.  I likewise spotted the mayor and three others coming down the steps, lanterns in hand, two assistants from the general store, and the woman I recognized as the town’s herbalist, though I had yet to introduce myself to her. 

I continued silently and quickly through the fog-shrouded street along the Span, picking up snippets of conversation, thought he fog had a muffling effect, and I could make out nothing of what was said.  As I rounded the far end of the Span and came up behind some crates that were stacked near the platform at the top of the stairs leading from the dock, I could finally hear the mayor and the herbalist speaking softly, an unfamiliar, female voice answering.  It seemed they were discussing trade of some kind. I peered around the crates, watching as the assistants unloaded the flatboat, though my eyes were drawn to the newcomer.  Curiously I could not see her face, even in the lantern light, though I saw the faint, reddish glow coming from her eyes, the tips of curling horns poking from her hood, and the gentle swaying of a pointed tail around her legs.  A mazoku, the first I had seen since my arrival in Grimbridge.

As the last of the cargo was removed from the boat, I noticed the muskrat again, having climbed atop some of the bags that had been brought onto the docks, its eyes suddenly focusing upon me, its head cocking curiously to one side.  A heartbeat later the conversation had stopped, and I felt the mazoku’s eyes fall upon me, and then she called out to me. 

“Fear not, newcomer; I was aware of your arrival from the moment you first came to these shores.  If you come with no ill-intent, then please, join us, for I would quite like to meet one who has survived such an ordeal, one from the far Empire.”

My fur bristled at having been spotted; I knew then that the muskrat was not natural, and would momentarily discover it was a familiar, and the stranger was known as Ashleyr, the Witch of the Muckenmyre.  I did not hesitate once I had been spotted, for I sensed no danger, and made my way down the steps.  I bowed in deferential greeting, and silent apology, to those gathered here, aware that the assistants had began loading other bags and crates upon the boat.  The mayor made introductions, to the herbalist, an older half-elven woman named Cardiane, and even to the muskrat, Thornton, who was now nibbling on some sweet treat he’d gotten from somewhere.

Ashleyr extended her hand, and once I had taken it, she held to it with remarkable strength, for she was shorter and lighter of build than me, turning it so that she could see my slave brand.  Without need of being told, I showed her the one on my other forearm; she took a few moments to examine them, running her fingers over them, seemingly tracing their lines, then nodded and thanked me; I had steeled myself, though, my training preparing me to resist any magic that may be placed upon me, though none came. 

I still could not make out the details of her face but for her faintly glowing eyes, even this close.

She told me that she came to town at least once every couple of months, trading mostly herbs, potions, and other rare materials from the depths of the swamp in return for things she needed, though preferred early-morning visits, when fewer eyes would be upon her, for not everyone took well to her kind, especially not a witch such as she.  I inquired as to whether she was associated with the Witches of the Ways, for I had encountered them in my homeland.  I could hear her smile as she spoke, confirming that she was, though she was far more aloof than her sisters, for her home was the heart of the swamp itself, and the place of power that stood there.  I did not inquire further about this, for it did not seem to be my place to do so.

Our conversation was short, ending once her boat had been filled.  She expressed a desire to speak with me at some length in the future but did not wish to linger longer than necessary.  She announced that I was welcome in the swamp, but that I should not take that to mean I should not be wary of its many dangers.  She then bid farewell to the mayor, the herbalist, and myself and made her way back upon the flatboat, her familiar hurrying to follow.  As she departed back up the slow-moving river, the fog followed her, disappearing as suddenly as it had come.

Offering another apology to the mayor for my actions, though I caught myself before I suggested he punish me, for I knew by now that he would tolerate no such talk, I instead offered my help in carrying the goods Ashleyr had brought as my way of making amends.  This he seemed to accept without complaint, and so I made myself useful.  I am no stranger to hard labor, so carrying these bundles and boxes was no trouble, and I daresay that I was better at it than even his store workers.  If nothing else, it was a gauge of how well I had recovered, and thankfully, it seemed, I was very nearly fully healed.

As we returned to his home for another hour or two of sleep before the day’s work began, I expressed my interest in finding some kind of work within the town, as a way to repay the hospitality they had shown me, and to start earning my way properly, given that I was no longer anyone’s property.  Saying such a thing still felt entirely wrong, and internally I was feeling as though I had willfully committed some great act of betrayal to my Emperor, but what choice did I have?  Surely his kindness had its limits, and I would not be wise to overstay my welcome so far from home.