Tag: mire

#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.