Tag: bandits

#Lore24 – Entry #332 – Fantasy Month IV #27 – Battle for the Vault

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I must admit that I had hoped for a relatively peaceful return to the temple site, to simply open the doors and examine the space beyond with the eye of an attentive archaeologist.  I should have known better, given our experiences thus far.  Perhaps it was simply me wishing to be clear of the horrors we had encountered within the swamps and still feeling fatigued after the unnatural sickness had threatened to overwhelm us.

Regardless of what I may have hoped for, it was not our fate to have a peaceful return.  As we approached the temple site, Shassk alerted us to the fresh tracks that lay ahead of us, and in moments I could see them myself, footprints of a large number of men and perhaps a half dozen horses, perhaps a day or so old, with no efforts to hide their tracks.  Shassk and Korvalis scouted ahead, returning in only half an hour perhaps, with word that two dozen bandits at least had taken up position around the entrance to the temple, not to camp, but waiting to attack.  Worse, they’d spotted some of the other adventurers who had gone missing working with them, leading them in fact.  There was plenty cause for worry since they had an arcanist and priest of their own amongst their number. 

Somehow, they had gotten wind of our quest and had decided to take our hard work for themselves.  I’ll admit it got me rather angry; my companions were in no mood for mercy at this point either.  So, we formulated our plan of attack against the much larger force, deciding to camp well away from the valley and rest ourselves, take stock of our supplies, and make the effort to attack when they would least expect it, in the darkest hours just before sunrise; only Risai and myself would be greatly disadvantaged in the dark as we were human, but not for very long.  Ellisar had since managed to recover a few charges into his wand of fireballs, and would have a few more he could cast into the crowd prepared; Shassk and Korvalis would go ahead of us, taking out any sentries they came across as silently as possible, while Risai and I would move into the confusion Ellisar caused to deal with the bandits in the main camp, with Gresilda keeping behind us to provide support; I had learned that though she seemed delicate, she was an accomplished warrior in her own right when the need arose.

That would not be all, though; Korvalis insisted that he would deal with the arcanist and priest himself.  We tried to talk him down, of course, but he was absolutely convinced that he could sneak in through the camp after he and Shassk had seen to the sentries, then make his way to the other party and strike from the shadows when they lest expected it.  We all knew what would happen if he were to get caught, but he was set on his own devious plan, and however reluctantly, we would allow him to follow it.  Given his success with the druids, I was inclined to think he may well pull it off.

We rested, then, and set out an hour before the deepest night would settle in, in the hours before sunrise.  The sentries were dealt with in short order, and Korvalis disappeared into the gloom without a word, Shassk shaking his head, but admitting that he had lost sight of him within a matter of moments.  “The very shadow of death, that elf,” he had said with some amount of awe in his voice.  From our position amongst the rocks and remnants of the temple to either side of the valley, we waited, giving Korvalis the time he needed.  After another half hour or so, with the night at its deepest, we began our attack, with Ellisar opening up with a fireball, quickly followed by another that I launched from his wand. 

Fire, smoke, and screams filled the night, and after another pair of fireballs, we descended into the chaos we had caused, me leading Risai against the disorganized mob of panicking bandits, dancing amongst them to create openings which she exploited with deadly force from her dragon-steel blade.  Though scattered and burned, the bandits were still numerous, if unorganized.  Another dozen rushed out from the temple entrance to add to the defense with bows, but their arrows were turned away from us with a prayer from Gresilda to call up a defensive wind barrier, with Ellisar scattering them from the shadows with a rolling ball of fire that he sent careening through their line. 

As we ascended into the temple entrance, the last of the bandits, the leaders of the band, greeted us, along with the remaining members of the opposing party of adventurers.  We saw no sign of their spellcasters amongst them, and their warrior seemed to be struggling to move, showing signs of having been wounded already (I would learn later that Korvalis had stuck him with a poisoned dart).  As we engaged them, Korvalis would reappear as if by magic, striking when their attention was fully upon the rest of us, driving his daggers into their flanks to open a bleeding wound, then darting back into the shadows.  The look I saw upon his face was, for lack of a better word, terrifying, a sadistic, predatory glee. 

With their leaders dispatched, along with the opposing party of adventurers, the remaining handful of bandits fled into the predawn gloom.  As quiet settled in around us, save for the crackle of burning tents and bodies around us, we stood victorious atop the temple entrance, bloodied but far from the worst we had experienced.  It seems the gods were with us this night.  As we regrouped and looked through the dead for any treasures and supplies we could use, we would find the bodies of their arcanist and priest, both still upon their bed rolls around the camp they’d set up in the open chamber we’d used the first time I’d come there, slumped over and bled out from wide cuts across their throats, caught helpless as they had prayed and meditated for their power. 

I for one was quite glad that Korvalis was on our side and would hope he would remain so for the foreseeable future, though now that the fighting was done, he seemed quite cheerful and every bit as friendly as he usually was.  We would rest for a while as dawn came, helping ourselves to some of the foodstuffs the bandits had with them, before making our way to the vault door and what lay beyond.

#Lore24 – Entry #326 – Fantasy Month IV #21 – Bandits and Brigands, To Plunder a Dungeon

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

Our captors transported us quickly through the woods, no doubt having become quite familiar with them during their time hiding amongst them.  I could hear when we cleared them and approached their camp, for there were shouts alerting the others that they had “prizes aplenty, ripe and pretty”.  Though I was blindfolded, I could hear quite a few people coming out around us as we were brought to what I assume was the center of the camp and dropped none-to-gently upon the ground.  Risai was certainly vocal in her protests, however garbled by her gag they were.

The excitement around us died down quickly once a commanding voice called out from nearby, sounding very much Imperial in its way of speaking, and quite angry that we’d been brought to the camp.  Our captors made no secret of what it was they sought from us, saying they’d have to work to “crack that one’s shell if we want the sweet meats inside” in reference to me.  I heard the name Garri mentioned, who I figured was their leader, chastising our captors again for stupidly bringing us here.  When he asked about whether they’d dealt with the rest of our party, there was some nervous silence, then one of the orcs, I think, blurted out something about not even checking.  Garri, the leader, ordered us taken to the “cellar”, and the guard to be doubled, on the lookout for any other adventurers who may be lurking around looking for their missing women.

With the camp in an uproar, we were roughly picked up again and taken elsewhere, somewhere nearby and underground, for the sounds changed again, and the air grew cooler, and we were deposited upon cold stone, a door shutting behind our captors, the sound of wooden bar being thrown into place outside. 

We wasted no time in escaping from our bonds.  Though my hands were growing rather numb by this point, the moment we were left alone, we struggled and scooted our way together, somehow managing to coordinate our efforts to free one another, with Gresilda being the first to wiggle her hands free, making short work of the bonds upon Risai and I once she had done so.  It was dark here, only a sliver of light coming from the floor at the base of the door, so I called up a small orb of arcane light so that we could see our surroundings.

It seemed we were indeed in something of a cellar, though the architecture was decidedly draconic in nature, leaving no question that this was once part of the ancient city that once sprawled across this area.  The door was new, and relatively stout, likely from a carpenter amongst the bandits, for Risai couldn’t budge it when she tried to break it down, and only succeeded in earning more bruises.  There were barrels and boxes within the room, some broken, many empty, others with flour, wheat, and the other foodstuffs that would keep for a while.  As Gresilda calmed Risai from her insistence upon busting down the door, I studied the ancient carvings upon the walls.  As I came to a particular carving, I noticed a particular seam in the worked stone that seemed out of place behind some of the boxes containing some woodworking tools.  Upon closer inspection, I determined it to be a well-concealed doorway, and with a few more minutes of study, found the release mechanism.  The ancient door swung inward with barley a rumble, still smooth upon its ancient hinges, revealing a narrow set of stairs leading further down into darkness.

We debated for a few moments about whether to stay or go, and of course, being the bold adventuring types we are, decided to take the stairs, though we would do so cautiously.  We first made sure we could reopen the door from the opposite side, then proceeded carefully along, Risai having taken up a stout, cut board as a makeshift weapon to lead the way, with me following close behind with our light.  I had not mentioned the lack of signs of rats in the food containers in our makeshift prison, meaning that either the bandits were keeping them at bay, or perhaps more likely, something else was.

The passages below were on the cramped side, leading me to think that this area was perhaps once primarily used by the drakonae.  The damage was relatively light compared to other places, though there were signs that the roots of the trees above were inevitably working their way through the stonework.  We avoided any additional stairs, instead looking for another way to reach the surface, hopefully perhaps outside the area of the bandit camp.  After perhaps an hour of searching, we came upon a larger chamber, some of the ancient stone benches still intact around the periphery, along with scraps of wood and cloth of other furniture that had mostly rotted away.  More curious, though, were the weapon racks built into the walls between the benches.  Most were empty, though four remained that still held some metal weapons that looked, aside from dust and cobwebs, to be in usable condition.  As I looked more intently upon them, Risai approached one and reached out for the double-edged sword that stood there. 

I realized a moment too late that she was in danger. 

It clicked in my brain that two of the weapon racks were identical, down to the pattern of the cobwebs and their contents, even the broken nub that remained of a larger peg.  As I called out for her to stop, the rack she approached seemed to rapidly melt like candlewax, shifting into a mass of slimy tentacles and teeth.  Risai cried out in surprise, but was already too close, the tentacles striking out to seize her, wrapping tightly around her limbs and body.  Even Gresilda screamed in startlement, having not expected the mimic. 

Already suspecting such a thing, I was the first to respond, quickly chanting a spell to call forth slicing blades of fire upon the monster.  Careful to avoid Risai, I targeted the central mass and largest tentacles, getting a satisfying screech from the creature as it panicked and released Risai for the moment, the large warrior stumbling backward as fast as possible.  With the creature’s ire upon me, the flames quickly dying upon its singed flesh, I danced around its flailing tentacles as Gresilda chanted a prayer to Erisaya.  A moment later, holy fire spewed downward from the heavens upon the mimic, making it scream as its flesh boiled and melted, though it still had fight in it.  Risai snatched the blade from the real weapon rack and snarled a battle cry as she hurtled back into the mass, slicing smoking tentacles easily with the ancient blade, her strikes leaving burning cuts across the creature, before driving its tip deeply into the creature’s central mass, again and again until the mimic stopped moving.

Taking a few moments to recover, Gresilda healing the scrapes Risai had from her close encounter with the tentacles, I threw weaker fire upon the other weapon racks and stone benches, but thankfully found no other mimics hiding within.  That one was either young or perhaps sickly from a lack of food, for it seemed to have died rather easily in comparison to what I’ve read of them.  Of course, those stories could have simply made the encounters seem much more deadly than they really were.  Regardless, now that we had a few moments, I examined the weapons we had collected, and soon determined they were dragon-blown steel, attuned to the element of fire.  The other weapons we retrieved were of similar make and would prove quite useful, if not extremely valuable, upon our return to the party.

The rest of the “dungeon” was not nearly as exciting, for we found the remnants of the mimic’s past victims, a handful of humanoids, but mostly animals, in the next chambers, and found another pathway that led upward.  Soon enough, we had located a partially collapsed exit from the ancient draconic structure, but we were able to shift the fallen rock around enough for us to squeeze through.  The night was deep by now, morning approaching, though we had little trouble seeing due to the fires in the nearby bandit camp.  It didn’t take us long to hear panicked screams departing into the woods, and soon enough we were reunited with the rest of our party, who had managed a most deadly attack upon the bandits whilst we made our way through the dungeons.

There was a bounty on them, but we were days away from Vindinium, so did not immediately collect.  Shassk handled the grim business of collecting the heads, which he stored in a sack dedicated to just such a purpose, its enchantment making the load lighter while also preserving them.  With dawn approaching, we collected our missing gear and stowed the dragon-blown weapons that we weren’t immediately using, redressed ourselves, and headed off back toward the course we had originally been upon. 

#Lore24 – Entry #325 – Fantasy Month IV #20 – Back to the Trail, and the Third Ritual

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I could get little out of Lady Armenia once we had managed to extricate ourselves from her bed, and Risai was just as uncertain of what we had gone through as I was, her memories having gotten hazy even before mine.  I noticed that the magical rune upon her seemed to glow more brilliantly now, and she confirmed she was every bit as horny as I was.  Fortunately, we had plenty to keep us busy that day, and Lady Armenia did not summon us that evening, leaving us some time to recount our experiences in the quiet of the inn in Vindinium.  I once again shared Risai’s bed as together we tried, quite unsuccessfully, to relieve that horniness that consumed us, her rune proving every bit as capable as my cock cage and “armor”, which Lady Armenia had insisted I don before she allowed me to leave that morning.  It seems that Risai had found herself in a situation not unlike my own, though she at least still had her anatomy intact.  I daresay she was much happier with said situation than I was.

We set out from the village at daybreak the following morning, bearing south-southeast, looking for telltale signs of an ancient roadway like the others we had encountered to the north.  The forested nature of the area made this more difficult, but we continued onward, and were perhaps gifted with a blessing from Yurisaya (given what Risai and I had experienced the previous night, I daresay we had earned such a boon!), for on our second day out from Vindinium, Risai spotted remnants of an ancient draconic structure, mostly consumed by the landscape.  From this point, Shassk was able to climb a tree and get a good look around us, and was able to determine a path that followed our planned route that seemed to fit the nature of the ones to the north, and by midday on the third day, we had located the third set of standing stones, and, thankfully, without encountering any hostile forces.

We completed our ritual that evening, earning our third mark upon our opposite arm this time.  I somehow managing to keep myself on task in spite of the incessant buzzing of my accessories once again within the region of the standing stones, though I noted that Risai too seemed more worked up than last time as her rune was likely affected in a similar way as my gear.  From here, in the depression around the stones, we spotted a route to the west that we hoped would lead to our next destination and would be following it on the morrow.  If my calculations were accurate, I figured it would take us a week, maybe as much as two, depending on terrain, to reach the next site, for this represented the largest gap between the sites based on their pentagonal alignment.

Perhaps the effects of the draconic ritual had been amplified somewhat by our recent experience with Lady Armenia’s dedication ritual to Yurisaya, for Risai and I were feeling far hornier than we had previously once we had left the region of the stones, and throughout the next day as well, constantly fidgeting about and trying to (perhaps not so subtly) find relief for our needs.  Gresilda inquired about our distress, having sensed something going on with us, already having a very good idea of what had occurred with Lady Armenia that night.  Once we had camped that evening, we slipped off as we women tended to do, and we explained to our experience with the ritual, and of the nature of our current plight.

She was sympathetic, but was hesitant to delve too deeply, given the nature of her own faith in Erisaya.  Though the goddesses are sisters, if she did too much to relieve our frustration, she could very well step on the toes of Yurisaya and Lady Armenia and earn a punishment of her own in retaliation.  She did offer us some relief, though, enough to at least ensure that we would sleep soundly that night, perhaps long enough for the additional horniness from our own ritual to fade to a bearable level.  At that point, we were willing to try anything, so agreed.

It was not to be, however.  As Gresilda guided us through a relaxation technique used by the Erisayan faith, more like a calming massage, really, the three of us were caught unawares and were set upon by a group of well-concealed bandits led by orcish scouts.  So absorbed were we in trying to remedy our situation were we that they were amongst us before we could even make a grab for our weapons, the orcs seemingly well-practiced in the art of quickly binding and silencing their captives.  Before we knew it, even Risai had joined Gresilda and I (though it took three orcs to subdue her, and not without one getting a dislocated jaw and the other taking a kick to his groin), stripped naked (aside from my “armor”, unfortunately) and mercilessly hogtied with painfully tight leather thongs, our mouths filled with a mixture of our travel- and frustration-stained socks and underwear.  Try as they would, they could not dislodge my magically sealed chastity gear, and after some frustrated groping and rather rough handling, they gave up, instead deciding that they should haul us back to their camp.  We were then blindfolded and picked up by the orcs, who, I think rather enjoyed groping Risai and Gresilda from what I could hear, hauled none too gently through the woods, though I knew not where at the time.

#Lore24 – Entry #263 – Fantasy Month III #20 – Another Horrible City

As Told by Kazumi, Druid of the Circle of Claw and Fang

“This one doesn’t like cities, never has, and Arcavarlon is no different.  Too many people, too little reverence for nature, too much distraction… Even the air coming in from the Great Canoma Bay does little to ease this one’s nerves in a place like that.  It was all this one could do to make herself go within its walls…so little in the ways of trees around, only a few small parks, nothing for miles around!  Terrible!

This one did not care what the others had been tasked to do; she was there to hunt those responsible for harming her forest first and foremost.  She knows not the details of the deal, only that we were to aid one of the influential persons in Arcavarlon with some task that could only come from the corruption born of the cities.  Has this one mentioned she doesn’t like cities?  You are aware of how sensitive a kerryn’s sense of smell is, yes?  This one’s is much stronger than that, you see, and this one struggles to ignore everything she doesn’t need to in large places like Arcavarlon.  Think of it like when a sudden flash blinds you, of when your senses are vastly overwhelmed and overpowered.  Yes, this one could learn to deal with it, but that means spending time in cities, and that is something this one never wished to do.

Once we had settled in at one of the inns, word was sent to arrange to meet the person in question, but that wouldn’t be until later.  This one had time to explore, try to make some sense of the chaos that is Arcavarlon.  She would spend much time in the shape of a regular cat, listening, watching, learning paths and routes through the mess, finding the pockets of nature she could in the parks, pondering why nature hadn’t reclaimed the abominable city by scouring it from the land through great storms or ice from the northern reaches of the sea.  This one saw many things while she watched, some good, some bad, many people just trying to survive.  This one may speak of dire matters and affronts to nature, but not all are capable of surviving as this one does amongst the druids.  There have been many debates in this one’s time about such matters in the circles, but this one wishes not to bring them up now.

This one would watch and wait while the others visited the temples to their gods in the time we had before we would meet with the one Lady Jade had sent us to assist.  This one reveres the spirits of the land above all, though this one admits to being curious of the nature of the lost kerryn mother goddess.  This one has had opportunity to speak with some of the nomadic kerryn clans that roam the land of their searching for the goddess, and until she came here, this one had no idea that such hopes still existed, for this one was raised to think that the kerryn were forsaken by the gods for past evils.  Nature is much simpler to understand than the gods.”

#Lore24 – Entry #262 – Fantasy Month III #19 – Cutting a Swath All the Way to Arcavarlon

As Told by Siduri Tamboura, Warrior for Hire

“You know, I’ve thought about what you said about Teelsa.  Does her keeping things from me bother me?  Yeah, no question about that.  I don’t like being jerked around and lied to, but she is a bard, and you can’t really trust them not to try something like that.  They’re almost as bad as thieves in that regard, only difference is you can usually hear them coming because they can’t shut their mouths, right?  Well, anyway, let her keep her secret a while longer; I’ll get it out of her eventually.  Sounds like she’s earned some time with my whip after this mess…

Well, after that dark elf ambush, we weren’t taking no shit from anyone on the way to Arcavarlon, I can tell you that.  You can thank us later for clearing up some of your bandit problem on the road between there and Greenspire, by the way.  Some coin would be fitting enough.  I’ll not hold my breath.  We must have killed nearly two dozen of them, kept thinking a bunch of women were easy pickings, I guess, but they weren’t prepared for us.  Would’ve taken time to clear out their dens, but we had more lucrative things on the menu. 

Cleared out one of them, though; got held up in Orzyn after it got raided and the ferry was burned, along with several other buildings in town.  Guess you’ve heard all about that situation already, though, you’re looking bored.  Guess you don’t really enjoy a good interrogation without a bit of torture, huh?  Not volunteering, just saying.  So yeah, that took us a few days, tracked them down, recovered what we could, brought in a mess of ears, that kind of thing, while we waited for the ferry to be rebuilt.  Doing a good deed, you know.

Anyway, we finally made it to Arcavarlon so we could get this business for Lady Jade settled, and that turned into another mess.  Guess that’s why I’m sitting here, huh?  Don’t know why, really.  I mean, it was legitimate business, a favor for a favor and all that.  Oh, that fire?  No, that wasn’t us, lady, and the fact that you’d try to pin that on us pisses me off!  Do I really need to spell it out?  It was the Twats again!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fear within the jail rose significantly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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