Tag: Erisaya

#Lore24 – Entry #334 – Fantasy Month IV #29 – Parting of Ways, Leaving the Wildlands

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

It has been some time since I last wrote in this journal, for I have been immensely busy with my work in the ancient Cathedral of Eminent Tranquility.  I would spend nearly a month within the chamber working on my initial studies of the chamber, with the rest of my party rotating out to make supply runs to Vindinium and report our success to Commander Asselin and Lady Armenia, as well as deliver my messages to the Great Library.  It did not take long for the Emperor himself to learn of the discovery, for by the end of that first month, the army would establish a secured route between Vindinium and the ruins, with more than enough soldiers to keep the area quite safe, as well as escorting many of my brothers and sisters from the Library to the site to assist with cataloguing the many documents and relics I had found.

Lady Armenia and Commander Asselin would join us for a time, though I was far too focused on the work to recall much of what we discussed.  I daresay I was possessed by a need to know all that I could that I had never felt before.  I do recall Lady Armenia pulling me away for at least a night, though, making sure that I ate properly and got at least one proper night’s rest.  She likewise released me from my “armor” and restored my body to its original state, her fun having been had, and recognizing that I had found something that even she could not tear me away from.  She was quite pleased with the outcome, and we would remain friendly with one another in the coming months, though I would see little of her, as she would leave the area to return to her duties within Draconis Magna, leaving another priestess in charge of the temple she had created for Yurisaya.

I would remain within the region of the ruins throughout the winter, well into the next year as I led the Library’s researchers in our work, though I would be forced to deal with the Emperor’s own arcanists and archivists as well.  I’m told I became quite snippy with them at times, refusing to yield to their “authority” and, as I recall, blatant stupidity at times; for a wonder, I was not chastised for my actions, though I’m sure I will likely have to deal with some of the consequences in the future.  Being diplomatic and working my way through the Imperial political machine is not where my skills lie.

With summer in full swing now, I have finally come to an end of my time in the Wildlands.  Thanks to the work of the many archivists Mother sent to me, we have completed the initial phases of our work of cataloging the scrolls and books and have packed them for transport to the library.  I will be overseeing their safety along the road, though I doubt anyone would dare attack with the size of the Imperial guard that has been set to escort us.

I said my goodbyes to the Heroes of Vindinium, who had, in the time since our plunder of the vault, grown quite famous locally for their investment in the town itself.  Shassk would be remaining in the area, with many of his clan joining him to continue safeguarding the draconic ruins.  Gresilda would stay on as the leader of the growing Erisayan presence in the area as a new temple was constructed, and Ellisar was even staying, feeling that there was much more to learn from the region, even starting his own fledgling arcanist school.  It seemed that civilization was indeed coming to the Wildlands.

Risai and Korvalis were growing quite restless, though, and would be traveling with us back to the Empire until they decided exactly where they would adventure to next, though Risai said she would visit Lady Armenia before setting out. 

It also seems that I have earned the Emperor’s attention as well, for I learned, upon the day we would begin our return journey, that Aishi had been assigned to safeguard me on the way and for the foreseeable future while another of the Stellae Illustris would be assigned to Commander Asselin.  I can’t say I was pleased with this development, though at least some of her interests in me have waned in the months since I was last in the redoubt, the loss of my chastity gear and magically altered anatomy making me less appealing to her now, though she would continue her teasing and belittling of me in that smug way she had about her. 

It would undoubtedly be a trying journey back to the Great Library, but given the focus I had developed over the last few months, I had every confidence I could continue to withstand her attempts to have me begging her for release, which I no longer craved every moment of the day.

For now, though, I will finally allow myself a chance to rest.  I think I’ve earned one.

#Lore24 – Entry #333 – Fantasy Month IV #28 – Treasures of the Ancients

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

After our brief meal and rest, finding no more bandits around us, we made our way to the vault entrance.  As we descended the massive steps to the door, the runes that had been placed upon us began to glow and hum, resonating with the energy within the complex.  Unfortunately that meant that my accessories did so as well, but by this time, I had such a narrow focus on reaching our goal that I was able to ignore the steadily increasing vibrations completely. 

Approaching the massive doors, the magic within them stirred, glowing lines of golden light tracing through the many draconic runes inscribed upon them.  Shassk took the lead as we reached the bottom of the stairs, calling out to his ancestors in the draconic tongue asking for their blessing and permission to enter, recounting our perilous journey so that they would be aware of how much we had struggled to seek their wisdom.  He knelt before the doors, and we all followed suit, holding our breaths as his voice echoed over the growing power. 

Finally, with a creaking of hinges that could very well have been the sound of a dragon’s roar, the doors swung inward, a rush of ancient air blowing out as if it were the breath of a massive being.  As we looked up, ancient arcane lights ignited along the walls, following the contours of the massive chamber beyond.  As the golden light began to grow, we saw that it illuminated what had once been the ancient dragon’s private chambers, and the literal treasure trove that lay within.  Piles of gold and gems mixed with various relics of an ancient time littered the central area, sizeable enough to earn gasps from most of my party, and though I knew it was only the tiniest fraction of what had once been there, the remnant that was left behind when the ancient dragons had left this world, it was more than they could have possibly imagined.

My attention was drawn to the much more important and valuable items within, though, for as the light continued to grow, I saw completely intact wall panels that were covered in draconic script, detailing the history of this land from ancient times, saw the blank panels from where the histories had stopped being recorded.  I likewise saw stacks of ancient scrolls and tomes, carefully stored and preserved, though likely still fragile even with the preservative spells that warded this chamber.  It was these that I approached reverently, only guessing at what knowledge could be found within.  Never before had a vault been uncovered that contained so many written records that were still intact!  My mind was already working on a plan of just how I would go about cataloging all of this knowledge, of the steps I must take to record absolutely everything that we found inside. 

I was momentarily overwhelmed, and soon realized that I would need help, and for that, I must get word to Mother back at the Great Library.

I knew not what this discovery would mean for the region known as the Wildlands, but I knew with certainty that our discover would change the region forever.  I was just as certain that I had far too few parchments, blank journals, and writing supplies to do what I must.  My true work was only just beginning, though I had just survived an adventure I could never have imagined I would ever have undertaken. 

What a time to be alive.  For this experience, I am ever thankful to the gods for their many blessings and those of the ancient dragons that were here before me.

#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 #331 – Fantasy Month IV #26 – Averting Disaster, and A Very Messy Final Ritual

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

A wealth of knowledge is, more often than not, a blessing, though in this case, I feel perhaps it was more a curse, for it turns out I was very correct in my speculations before we delved into the swamp.  Our journey into the depths was slow and fraught with dangers, from diseased trees and plants animated by the foul magics of Malvaxor, to lizardmen and other creatures of the swamps, driven mad from their diseased state, and horribly mutated so that their bodies would literally explode into a mess of diseased pus upon death.  Gresilda worked furiously to ensure we were not severely affected by these diseases, though I admit that none of us were entirely immune to feelings of great nausea and general discomfort during our trek, and all of us would begin to feel the effects of the sickness as we delved ever deeper.

Still, through our determination and no small bit of bravery, or stupidity, perhaps, that only adventurers tend to possess, we pushed deeper and deeper.  Towards the center of the swamps, the land grew thankfully firmer, and we started seeing signs of draconic ruins, which had been used by the lizardmen as their home for some time by the look of them.  Here too began to encounter the cultists of Malvaxor, diseased like their victims, only not suffering from them, rather, drawing strength from their foul god through his afflictions.

The cultists had surrounded the site of power and were absorbed in an extended ritual of infusing their god’s foulness into the standing stones as I had feared, the very essence of the god’s foulness already blighting the lands around us, its reach growing steadily wider.  Their numbers were many, and we had to resort to hit and run tactics to deal with them, but ever so slowly we whittled their numbers down until we could approach the standing stones and the leader of the cult and her closest acolytes, her body already consumed to the point of basically being a living vessel of disease itself, perhaps having become some form of undead creature.  I won’t relate the details of the battle; suffice to say we were pushed to our very limits, and very nearly met with disaster due to our weakened state, our infections growing worse seemingly at the will of Malvaxor’s priestess. 

In the end, though, we triumphed, stopping the cult and ending their ritual before it could be completed and could corrupt the standing stones.  The power of the infection, magical in nature, began to weaken almost immediately, the primal essence of the ancient stones at the heart of the swamp acting to cleanse the immediate area within their aura of Malvaxor’s influence before more slowly spreading throughout the rest of the swamp, though we would be long gone from the area before it would begin to heal.

We would rest in the center of the standing stones after cleaning up what we could of the mess, what wasn’t cleansed by the stones themselves, and would complete our final ritual the following day once we had recovered from our ordeal.  This rune appeared upon our chests, resonating with the others already upon us, signaling that we had proved our devotion and would be allowed into the ancient dragon’s vault. 

We didn’t even consider returning to Vindinium, for we were only a few days travel from the ruins in which we started our journey and were quite anxious to see what treasures lay within.  Following another day of rest, we set off, back toward the ancient temple with renewed vigor, the end of our quest in sight.

#Lore24 – Entry #330 – Fantasy Month IV #25 – A Cult Most Perverse

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

It took us just over a day and a half before we encountered any gnolls as we drove across the grassland plains towards the swamps.  For a wonder, they were not immediately hostile to us, unlike our previous encounters with the other monstrous humanoids of the region, and simply watched us from a distance at first, though I confess to feeling a certain hunger in their stares.  They kept their distance, perhaps judging our intentions as we crossed their territory.  As we came within sight of the swamps late on the third day, the gnolls finally approached us with a casual loping gait, barking and cackling in their own tongue as they approached.

Wary, though certainly curious of their behavior, we paused our advance, myself taking the lead in our greeting to them.  I knew not their language, but they knew something of the common tongue, however crude and broken it was when they spoke it.  This close, I noticed too that they seemed sickly, their fur marred by boils leaking a yellowish-green pus that, when the wind shifted, smelled quite disgusting.  Their spokesman pointed at Gresilda, crudely naming Erisaya and indicating the holy symbol upon her neck and saying “healer” in a questioning tone.  They motioned to the curious affliction I had noticed and then back in the direction they had come, the gist of their plight being that a terrible sickness had overtaken their tribe, many had died, and more were sick like them. 

Though Risai and Shassk were against the idea of aiding the gnolls, Gresilda’s goodly nature demanded that she at least examine them and see if she could determine the nature of the affliction.  Wary of spreading the sickness amongst ourselves, she took proper precautions to protect herself during her examination of the hunters, asking questions as to when it started, any strange occurrences and the like.  Through our discourse, we learned that the gnolls had first encountered it in the animals they had hunted, a few at first, then more, and through deduction, we determined that it seemed to have come from the swamps based on their descriptions of the animals and nature of its spread.  The gnolls likewise stated that they had not seen much of the lizardfolk in many days either.  Gresilda then asked about any strange travelers besides ourselves, though the gnolls were not aware of any, though one made mention that another hunter had mentioned strange chanting coming from the swamp on the last full moon, and greenish lights from deep within. 

Gresilda told the gnolls various herbs to gather, describing their appearance when the gnolls were not familiar with our names for them, told them several times how to prepare them and even made them repeat it back to her several more times.  She also told them that it would only slow the sickness and alleviate the worst of the pain, that the true source of it would need to be dealt with in the swamps, and that, Erisaya willing, we would do just that.  With that done, the gnolls sped off, barking to their companions who had stayed back, the lot of them then loping off into the plains.

It was only then that Gresilda informed us of her suspicions, that this was not a natural plague, rather a magical one, created by followers of the dark god Malvaxor.  She had dealt with such sicknesses before she had journeyed into the Wildlands, as an apprentice, and curing the malady meant dealing with the cult that created it.  Villages on the outskirts of the Empire were the most often targeted by these cults, but some outbreaks had been known to spread to the larger cities, even the capital on occasion.  Her reasoning seemed sound to me, given my historical studies that had mentioned such things. 

Though I had no proof at that time, I surmised that perhaps the standing stones we sought hidden in the depths of the swamp, may also be related to the sickness that had afflicted the gnolls.  Even as we neared the swamp, there seemed to be a growing sickness in the land itself; the animals had already become scarce, the plants pale and drooping, if not already dying.  I cannot say exactly where my inspiration came from, perhaps a combination of my long hours of study or a divinely gifted spark perhaps, but the idea suddenly formed within my brain that the centralized location of the stones, the connected nature of the various sites, and the wealth of primal energies beneath us could make for an incredibly potent and dangerous way to spread a magical disease over an exceptionally wide area quite rapidly. 

With this idea voiced, our venture into the swamp suddenly took on an entirely new purpose.  I could only hope I was wrong, and that it was simply me overthinking matters.  Regardless, Gresilda blessed us with protections against disease, and we ventured into the dank, diseased morass, hoping and praying that I was wrong.

#Lore24 – Entry #329 – Fantasy Month IV #24 – The Kerryn Village, and The Fifth Ritual

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

For the sake of our saviors and their families, I will not reveal any further details about their number nor location, suffice to say that they have a village in which they live, though I fear some enterprising individual with ill intent may be able to discern their location through what I’ve stated in my previous entry.  My party has likewise made a vow to keep the location of the village a secret, for we owe our kerryn saviors our lives, and do not wish to bring the eyes of the Emperor upon them, though I fear that may only be a matter of time, given their will to expand into the region.  Yet, we are many days travel from Vindinium, and there is yet much land in between that must be tamed first, so hope remains that these kerryn will remain free of the fate their cousins face within the Empire.

Though our saviors were worried about our coming, understandably so, they were quite friendly with us, and allowed us a few days to rest and recover amongst them, the orcs sufficiently dissuaded from further pursuit after they ventured so far our of their own territory whilst chasing us.  I possess more knowledge of them, of course, but will not reveal it here; this is recorded in my most private notes and shall not be revealed for some time yet, likely until after my death when all of my documents shall be given over to the Great Library.  Regardless, I will say that they had already known of the soldiers reclaiming the fort, having scouted that far to the east after hearing rumors of it from the handful of people they trust to trade with beyond the Wildlands.  They are resolute to remain where they are, though will be taking steps to further their security. 

The kerryn knew of the standing stones we sought, and with some guidance before we parted ways quite peacefully, we continued our journey, and within a day had located the site, nestled in a much nicer hilly region and not the taller mountains further on.  Upon completion of the ritual, gaining our fifth mark, making one on the forehead, one on either bicep, and one on either thigh, we had but one more left to attain.  Taking some time to get our bearings, I again worked to make an accurate plotting of a course that would lead us to the final standing stones.  By my reckoning, it could only be in the center of the Sherstone Morass, likely hinting at the nature of the name of the swampy region.  By my best estimate, the final standing stones were at the convergence of lines drawn from the previous sites, placing it firmly within this region, known to be inhabited primarily by carnivorous lizardmen and flora and fauna that were less than agreeable to most.

We considered returning to Vindinium to resupply, but finally decided against it, deciding instead to push forward to the Sherstone Morass through the grassy lowlands to the southeast of our position at the fifth ritual site, then continue on to Vindinium once we had completed the ritual, if needed, or to head directly to the vault.  It meant crossing gnoll territory, but seeing as we’d already angered the kobolds and orcs during our travels, and would be stepping into the domain of the lizardmen for our next stop, it would seem rather remiss of us to exclude the gnolls now, wouldn’t it?  Such is the life of an adventurer, I suppose.

And so, we set out the following morning, and I for one felt great anticipation as we neared the completion of this series of rituals, though I would be careful to temper myself and remain firmly grounded in my expectations, lest I get distracted more than I already am by these accursed devices secured to me by Lady Armenia.  I can only imagine how much worse my situation would be had the chastity devices not been enchanted to clean themselves and can only hope they’ll remain as vigilant once we enter the swamps.

#Lore24 – Entry #328 – Fantasy Month IV #23 – Hunted and Hounded

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

The problem with orcs is that, while not especially intelligent, outside of those of the Badaxe clan, they tend to breed quite quickly, and thus their numbers are exceptionally high.  Furthermore, their night vision is superior to those of a human, and even to elves, being able to see in darkness with relatively high acuity.  This, combined with a peculiar ferocity and territorial nature, makes them quite a threat to a small party of adventurers.

We were already hunted by the orcs by the time we had completed our ritual and continued to be so as we made our descent from the mountains, bearing roughly north-northwest as best we could manage.  They would rarely allow us any respite, constantly on our trail and trying to ambush us from the terrain they knew so very well.  Our magical reserves were consistently low, and Ellisar’s fireball wand was exhausted by the third day.  We were physically exhausted, as were our horses, and each step we took threatened to be our last, either from an orcish spear or arrow or axe, or one of our horses slipping on the rocky trails and sending us tumbling to our deaths.

I don’t think I’ve ever prayed to the gods quite so much as I did during that flight from the mountains; perhaps all of us did, though I can only be certain of Gresilda, for she made no attempts to hide most of her prayers when we were not trying to be quiet. 

As the days grew more strenuous, we thankfully found a route leading down out of the mountains that marked a return to the wide avenue we had followed between ritual sites to ease our travels, though this likewise meant our pursuers, riding their horse-sized wolves, could chase us more easily. 

I daresay we were on our last dregs of strength and would likely have fallen to our pursuers, wounded and exhausted, had we not ridden into a forested region near the base of the mountains and came upon a hunting party of a dozen men, who had already spotted our coming and set up an ambush for the orcs following us, pelting them from high in the trees with arrows as we rode through their ranks, even toppling some trees upon them. 

Though one would have thought our saviors to be elves, they were in fact, kerryn.

#Lore24 – Entry #327 – Fantasy Month IV #22 – Into the Mountains, and The Fourth Ritual

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

Following our reunion with the men of our party and our push toward the western mountainous region, we were suitably chastised for our admittedly stupid decision to perform our little relaxation ritual without making sure we were in fact alone, but in our defense, what were the chances we would find ourselves so close to a bandit camp, and they just happened to be scouting that particular area at that specific time?  Honestly, very good, given what I know of the nature of blessings from a goddess like Yurisaya; many accounts have I read of her blessings being quite mixed between fortune and misfortune in a most erotic way.

Still, we continued on our original course, and within a few days found ourselves ascending into the mountains.  Along the route, we encountered signs more orcs in the area, some smaller scouting parties from different tribes, which we tried to avoid, only engaging if there was no other choice, along with some wildlife which was more hostile than normal, namely some rather large wolves and even a few bears.  We found out why they were agitated soon enough when we were accosted by another drake, this one of the green-scaled variety, breathing a highly corrosive acid as it attacked us.

As we ascended and the trees became sparser, signs of the ancient draconic city were much clearer, though in a much worse condition than in other areas, being little more than piles of rubble for the most part.  Judging by the nature of the damage and local geography, I could make a rather safe assumption that there was a period of great geological upheaval in this area at some time, likely during the Great Cataclysm that reshaped much of the world.  It is honestly rather amazing that we have seen so little of its effects on the rest of the region we have explored thus far.  We found ourselves navigating through multiple narrow ravines and valleys, having to backtrack several times as paths suddenly ended or were otherwise impassable, and this likewise led us into more orcs, who were not willing to speak with us at all, insisting on a fight as we were quite obviously invaders into their territory.

By the time we had managed to find the area of the standing stones, clued in by the subtle shift in the very air around us and the activation of the accessories worn by myself and Risai, we were haggard and near exhaustion from several encounters with orcs, poor Korvalis and Shassk even more so due to their constant work to hide our trails and dissuade the orcs from following us.  The entirety of the radius of the standing stones had been raised as one, it seemed, and they still stood, unaffected by the geologic upheaval that had created the mountains long ago.  Gresilda used what magic she had left to ease the worst of our fatigue, and we hastily pushed through with the next ritual, earning our first mark upon our thighs.  As we waited anxiously for morning, hiding ourselves as best we could amongst the stones, we rested as best we could manage before setting off, hoping to evade further orc pursuit.

It was not to be.

#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.