Tag: Grimbridge Way

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#Lore24 – Entry #135 – Muckenmyre Month #14 – New Allies at the Wayfare Inn

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

I awoke about midday, still feeling as though I had been soundly beaten, but my wounds were noticeably less painful after having rested.  It was another unfamiliar room in which I found myself, though this one was…cozy, I suppose.  It wasn’t large, but had enough room for two beds, the second containing a sleeping Satella, a wardrobe and chest of drawers, neither matching, but both having seen quite a lot of use in their time.  The scent of the swamp, though heavy upon us, was lessened now that we were within the witch’s domain, and over it I smelled fresh bread and smoked meat, boar, if my nose wasn’t mistaken. 

I got out of bed as quietly as I could, biting down against the many pains in my body, and I let Satella rest as I slipped out of the room.  The narrow hall beyond had an ancient feel to it but was well maintained and clean.  The Witches of the Ways were adamant about providing travelers with pleasant stays if they simply followed the rules.  Coming to the end of the hall, I peered out of the window, saw the wagon and our horses, one of the guards leaning against his spear by a small outbuilding, likely where the two bandits had been kept.  Making my way downstairs, I came into the common room, saw another of the guards sitting at the bar, appearing to have just awoken himself, likely not used to hours of hard riding after his usual shift had ended.  Several of the injured survivors from the caravan sat around the room as well, nodding appreciatively to me as they saw me.

I was greeted momentarily by the proprietress, an older human woman by the name of Izel, who ushered me quickly and politely, yet quite insistently, to one of the tables, promising that a propre meal would do wonders for me.  She came off as very motherly, and as she went behind the bar, I heard her speaking to others, likely her children, who would help her run the inn.  Moments later she came out with a tray of sliced bread, butter and jam, hot tea, and a bottle of something I couldn’t immediately identify.  She advised me to drink the concoction first, assuring me that I’d feel much better once I’d done so.  When I asked what it was, she said that it was cummi berry juice; I was unfamiliar with the name, the berries apparently grew within the Muckenmyre, and as I examined it, found the mixture to be a slightly thick, whitish color that smelled similar to blueberries mixed with ginger and perhaps ginseng.  I drank it down, finding the flavor satisfactory, though rather salty, and within a few moments felt my pains beginning to ease, the bruises and cuts upon my body fading rapidly.  I began eating the bread and tea, having expected nothing else, but then I was brought a plateful of the boar meat and cooked vegetables and some local roots; I had thought to decline so much, but Izel insisted, saying that I was a “growing girl” and should eat up.

I am rather ashamed to say that I did not leave a single morsel behind, hadn’t realized I had been that hungry, though I suspect her healing potion might have had something to do with that.

As I finished up my meal, finding it quite pleasant and filling indeed, I spotted four people coming down the Way from the north, an older human man, whom I immediately figured on being Izel’s husband, and a younger man, obviously their son, each carrying bundles of firewood, and two others that were certainly not of the inn’s regular occupants.  The third was a half-elven man with a rugged look about him, wearing well-worn traveler’s garb in greens and browns, a bow secured over his shoulder, a sword on one hip, a full quiver on the other, carrying several large fish strung together in one hand, and a pair of opossums in the other.  The fourth was an absolute giant of a half-orc, standing at least seven feet tall, all battle-scarred muscled, carrying a pair of boars, one over each of her massive shoulders, clad in simple hides, a large axe bouncing on her back, a smaller one hanging from her belt.

They followed the husband and son around to the rear of the inn, the half-elf doing all the talking, seemingly friendly enough.  Recognizing rangers when I saw them, I headed outside into the warm and humid afternoon sun, checking with the guardsman on watch first before I ventured around back.  As they were busying themselves butchering the animals, I introduced myself to the rangers, again getting somewhat confused looks when I bowed to them, and explained the circumstances we found ourselves in, and that I would like to hire them on as guides through the swamp.  The half-elf introduced himself as Jessiryn, and his companion as Augra, though she merely grunted and continued field-stripping the boar, and upon his request, I gave him some more information about the nature of our hunt.  I excused myself politely once he had requested time for them to consider our request, and as I departed, could hear him talking to his partner, though she had yet to utter a word.

Satella and the other town guards were in the common room having their meal when I returned, and we discussed our options, having some of the surviving merchants join us to see what they wished to do.  Though most of their goods were taken, they still intended to reach Grimbridge and try to salvage what they could from the situation and perhaps get passage on a ship bound up the coast in lieu of traveling the Way again.  Most of the town guard would accompany them back to town, though another attack was unlikely, leaving two of them with Satella and myself to track the bandits and the twins.

Jessiryn approached our table then, and announced that he and Augra had decided to join our hunt.  Though they were fairly recent arrivals in the area themselves, they had been hunting the swamp enough to know the area well enough, and would very much like to offer their aid to Grimbridge and the traders. 

And so it was the six of us would depart the inn, having offered our payments to Izel for her kindness, that afternoon, taking the flatboat Jessiryn and Augra had with them, though it was a bit crowded with six of us aboard.  Still, the hunt was resumed, and our new companions would prove most capable during the coming days.

#Lore24 – Entry #134 – Muckenmyre Month #13 – Dangers Along the Way

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

Riding swiftly along the Way, we came upon an unexpected scene in the predawn gloom, that of a trade caravan, scattered, broken, and burning along the roadway.  It didn’t take me but a quick glance to determine that the traders had been attacked by a larger force.  I saw the bodies strewn about as we neared, obviously brigands, mixed with the caravan’s own, some still alive, though wounded. 

Though I wanted nothing more than to keep following my prey, their immediate trail ended at the battle site, the horse they had stolen laying near death amongst the carnage, their scents lost to the smell of death and burning wagons.  I saw the disgust in the faces of the town guard, and though Satella appeared outwardly serene, her face was devoid of its usual smile, and I could sense that she was inwardly quite angry at the scene.  So, as we approached, I gave the order to aid the survivors, and to be on the lookout for any swamp creatures that may have been attracted to the smell of the dead.  Though they never said it, I saw in the eyes of the men of the town guard that I had made the right call, that their lingering doubts about me were lessened. 

Many were dead, but several more were only wounded, the worst of these being tended to by Satella, though their pained screams as Yurisaya’s healing flowed into them were loud.  Still, I did what I could, taking on the lesser of the worst injuries myself, bearing the pain of their injruies as I had long been accustomed to.  We learned that the caravan master, among the first to die in the bandit attack, had set out early and with haste, intending to reach Grimbridge as the market opened, hoping to maximize their earnings with the locals before offering their wares to the ships coming into the port.  They knew they were being followed soon after leaving the Wayfare Inn, and it wasn’t long before the bandits attacked; they had spotted scouts from the same group as they approached the inn the previous evening, but none were bold enough to tempt the fates by attacking the group within the witch’s domain. 

Not long after the fighting began, the twins had shown up, riding into the fray and leaping from their dying horses, hurling spells indiscriminately, intent on taking fresh horses.  The bandit leader, an orc going by Jaggedtusk, was quick to offer them a cut of the profits if they joined their group, as there would be plenty to go around since his band was now a few members shorter.  Grabbing up what goods they could, the bandits and the twins disappeared into the Muckenmyre via the Crocodile Run and some well-concealed flatboats they’d had hidden near to the Way.

Luckily for us, there were bandits who had survived as well.  Unluckily for them, there were two very well-trained torturers in my group.  Though I keenly felt the many wounds I had taken upon myself, and Satella was out of healing magics, my purpose remained clear, and I did not hesitate in getting all the information I could out of them.  It didn’t take much coercion, for the will of a bandit is a weak one.  By the time we had finished our task, the town guard had managed to get one wagon upright and had hitched their horses to it, and we made the decision to continue to the Wayfare Inn, an hour or so ahead, to rest and consider our next course of action, the surviving bandits bound and made to walk along behind the wagon of the wounded.

Satella and I had learned of the bandit gang’s numbers and the location of the hideout, but it would mean little without someone to guide us there, for neither of us were familiar with the depths of the swamp, and both of us needed rest, me more than her, as did the town’s guards.  I gave my horse to some of the wounded to use, and rode behind Satella to the inn, every step growing more excruciating as we went, even though the depth of the wounds I had taken upon myself were not life threatening.

I can barely remember reaching the Wayfare Inn, can only really recall the change in the air as we crossed into the witch’s domain, then the canopy tree tunnel opening up as we came out into the clearing around the inn itself. 

I’m ashamed to admit that my stamina had given out, and that I had to be carried into bed once again.

#Lore24 – Entry #133 – Muckenmyre Month #12 – The Grimbridge Way

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

Riding forth from Grimbridge for the first time filled me with conflicting thoughts and emotions.  I was intent on capturing the troublemakers, my goal could really have been no clearer.  Though hours had passed since they had ridden out of the town gates, I could still discern their scent well enough to follow them.  Yet, even with Satella riding near, and the members of the town guard who had so willingly joined up and under my leadership, I felt an unexpected sense of melancholy at leaving the town that I had spent my life in for the past few weeks.  I have never been one to easily grow attached to anyone or any particular place given what I have been trained to become, but nonetheless, these emotions were there. 

As we grew further from Grimbridge, I could sense the unease of the town guard growing.  Night in the Muckenmyre, as I was told, was a dangerous time, though the Grimbridge Way was generally considered safe.  By the time we set out, everyone had found a place to shelter for the night, either in town or the handful of nearby farms.  It was during this first ride out of town that I first saw the Witch Lights that lined the roadway at regular intervals.  These are magical lanterns, tended to by the Wayfare Witches that called this area home, giving off a pale bluish-white light, warding off the most dangerous of creatures that called the swamps home.  As the light evening fog came in, the Witch Lights proved to have a most eerie quality about them.  On the one hand, they clearly marked the Way, though it would be difficult for one to become lost given the raised nature of the road, and the way the thick growth of trees, full of their hanging mosses, along its sides rose up and encased the road, like a dark, twisted tunnel overhead.  On the other hand, with the sounds of the night coming alive, and the many new sounds and scents I encountered as we rode, I could not help but feel slightly overwhelmed; there were things lurking just beyond those lights that I could not identify but could clearly understand were dangerous.

I inquired with Satella and the guardsmen as to what the lay of the land was as we came upon a crossroads, a pair of smaller, less well-traveled roads venturing off from the Way and out of the safety of the Witch Lights.  Our quarry had not gone down either of these paths, but the information could prove useful nonetheless.  Both ways led to farmland, smaller outlying villages that were mostly composed of families that had called the swamps home for generations, though they usually relied upon flatboats when coming into town, so the roadways were lightly used.  We were some hours yet from the first of the Wayfare Houses along the Way, one of the traveler’s rests maintained by the Witches, each placed about a day’s travel apart from one another.

Pausing just beyond the crossroads to consider the trail, to discern the hoof prints in the damp soil of the roadway, I asked about local landmarks and possible hiding places should the twins venture off the Way.  Even the guards who had grown up on the local farms before coming to live in the town were wary of the Muckenmyre, and explained that anyone who wasn’t born of the area would be lucky to find the various spots they described to me, which usually were certain ancient trees, nesting areas for animals, or small communities of more reclusive and often hostile humanoids, usually lizardmen and kobolds.  There was a place marked by a particular rock formation called the Witch’s Table somewhere out there, though they were reluctant to say more, and even uttered prayers upon mentioning it, so I reasoned that this wasn’t associated with the Wayfare Witches.  Far deeper into the mire, there was an area known as the Devil’s Armpit, though it was filled with toxic gasses and unpleasant, dangerous creatures.  There had been a several instances over the years where bandit groups had hid out in the swamp, so there were scattered spots that could be made livable, and were possibly in use even now, one being the wreck of an ocean-going ship that had somehow wound up deep in the swamp, likely during a hurricane. 

Though unlikely that the twins would know the area well enough to be aware of any of them, it was nonetheless potentially useful knowledge.  By this time, I had clearly marked the tracks we were to follow using some of the magic I had been taught; with my spell in place, I could see the hoof prints along the road glowing in a golden light, leading onward down the dark tunnel of the Way.  I mounted once again and started following, though I had discerned an additional detail in their trail which I relayed to my party then.  Given the spacing of the hoof prints since we’d set out from town, it seemed the twins were pushing their horses hard, and were likely, if they were perhaps smarter than they seemed, using magic to enhance their mounts’ stamina, otherwise they would certainly have to have rested them this far along.

This would not be quite as simple a task as it first appeared, but that was no discouragement to me.  I had tracked my targets for weeks on end before, though now I did not have to worry about blending in amongst the other kerryn as I did so, didn’t have to rely upon other Inquisitors to tend my leash.  I felt a strange exhilaration at this thought.  If the twins were using magic as they ran, then they too would have to rest eventually, for no arcanist’s power would last forever, and they had already used up several spells when fleeing town.  Would they make it to the Wayfare House to rest, or would they try to push onward, dead set for the city that lay beyond the Muckenmyre perhaps, or did they have another destination in mind?

As dawn approached, I smelled smoke in the air and spotted the glow of fire in the trees ahead of us before my human companions did.  Having rested our horses along the way, though no doubt my companions were beginning to feel fatigued, we nonetheless spurred our mounts forward, and I felt the rush of the hunt fill me.