Tag: portal

#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.

#Lore24 – Entry #91 – Fantasy Month #31 – Draconic Disappearances

 

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos:

Finally, we return to a proper topic!  And no sign of any Yurisayan priestesses anywhere!  Yet.  I’m still on guard, and shall be for another several days, I’m sure.

Dragons.  They are an everyday sight in some form or fashion, for they are the primary symbol of the Empire. The very arcane magics wielded by arcanists across the face of Andyllion are based upon their legendary spellcraft, and the very language of the arcane is Draconic, or, to those who are capable, even High Draconic.  Supposedly the kobolds are descended from the dragons, and some even still possess a version of their legendary breath.

And yet, true dragons have not been seen upon the world since before the Great Cataclysm.  Many who haven’t educated themselves in the matter assume they were wiped out during the Cataclysm, but in fact they were gone for a substantial period of time before then, perhaps for hundreds if not thousands of years.  There are lesser descendants of dragons in the form of drakes, but these are essentially wild animals in comparison to a true dragon, possessed of a fraction of the intelligence, none of the arcane ability, and the largest of them only reaching the size of a young adult dragon at best.

It would be safe to assume that the ancient dragons perhaps were aware of the coming apocalypse, given the timing of their vanishing.  Records and tales indicate that they were quite long-lived, filled with knowledge that we of this time cannot begin to fathom.  Certain historical records do exist indicating that when dragons once ruled the world, there existed alongside them great technological wonders that have simply been impossible to replicate. 

The question remains, however:  what happened to the dragons?  Given my study of the subject, I lean towards either of two theories being the most likely explanation.

The first theory is that the dragons simply left Andyllion, known as the Great Draconic Migration theory.  Records indicate that dragons were often revered or feared by the lesser races while they were here, sometimes worshipped as gods themselves, and were often responsible for ruling over many of the greatest civilizations, as the number of draconic ruins we have discovered may well indicate.  In the history as told by the civilized kobold peoples, who once served dragonkind as loyal retainers, there came a time in which their true-dragon masters began withdrawing from the world, relinquishing their leadership roles and pulling themselves away from the lesser races.  This was the case for the goodly dragons, at least; those of an evil nature were more likely to remain to plunder the remaining holdings of their now-departed enemies, ruling as tyrants and hoarding wealth, until their inevitable destruction.  Regardless, there are tales that have been passed down within kobold society in which they worked tirelessly for centuries, gathering up the wealth of their masters and relocating it into the great cities that were supposedly built for dragonkind.  Once these dragons had enclosed themselves within their fortified cities and withdrawn from the events of the world, there is little in the way of record as to what happened.

What there is, however, are many ruins that have been studied in past centuries which indicate the distinct possibility that the dragons had constructed some form of great arcane portals, which they used to travel to worlds or planes unknown.  Though long destroyed and dormant, these portals are, as recorded in various records, massive in size, easily able to accommodate the largest of dragons.  The information pieced together from various ruins have been used by modern-day arcanists to create the typical teleportation circles and short-range translocation spells currently in use, in fact, and though it is kept under the strictest of secrecy, supposedly the Emperor himself possesses a working example of one of these portals, which could allow him to travel to any part of the Empire, likely why there is a push for frequent expansion.  The Dragon Isles themselves, long sought after by treasure hunters, is rumored to contain the last of the great dragon cities, and perhaps it too holds one of these portals, maybe even still intact and working.  One can certainly dream.  Could it be that the draconic portals of ancient times were able to reach even further, to the very stars themselves?  Or into realms beyond, the elemental planes, the realms of the gods, the hellish abyss the demons call home, or perhaps worlds we cannot begin to imagine?  Perhaps.

The second theory to explain their vanishing is more esoteric, but nonetheless compelling.  What if the dragons never truly left us?  What if they are still here, walking amongst the lesser races, completely unaware of their true nature?  What if the dragons decided that they needed to change their very nature, to perhaps enter a period of dormancy for whatever reason that only they would know, and their essences, their draconic souls, were refined, changed, and diffused throughout the world and into the lesser races?   Could this perhaps explain the prevalence of draconic imagery and their remaining presence in our imagination even though thousands of years have passed since they vanished?

This is the Soul Transference theory, which posits that the dragons, foreseeing the coming apocalypse as an event they simply could not survive in their natural state (though one would be hard-pressed to imagine something as powerful as a dragon being unable to withstand what many lesser races managed to survive), and collectively worked to change the very essence of their souls.  Per the theory, dragonkind as a whole, or mostly so, for there are those records of evil dragons tormenting the lesser races for some many years following the draconic withdraw, somehow forced a rapid and unprecedented evolution into beings of pure energy, which was then spread across the planet and infused into the many lesser races. 

Though initially one may scoff at the theory, one must pause to consider the very nature of the dragons.  These beings were far more complex than simply massive reptilian creatures.  Their essence was closely tied to the very fabric of the magic that fills our world, as evidenced by their mastery over all forms of magic as we understand it; they did not perceive magic as we do, into distinctly separate types (arcane, divine, and natural), rather simply as the foundational essence of the world to be manipulated as they required, thus enabling them to use any form of magic as easily as another.  Perhaps it is our nature as “lesser beings” that we cannot fathom how this is possible, thus requiring us to separate our magics into distinct types, unable to make use of more than single form?  Their entire bodies, then, were filled with this magical essence, draconic life-essence, vitae draconis, if you will, which may explain how such incredibly large creatures were capable of flight and moving their massive bulk around at all, and without consuming a city’s worth of food daily.  What if the Great Cataclysm would taint the very essence of magic that sustained them, and would have essentially acted as a poison that would have doomed them to oblivion?

Thus, to retain their presence within the world, they conceived of Soul Transference, transforming themselves into the beings of pure magical energy that would merge into the lesser races.  This could explain why certain individuals are gifted with either a greater understanding of the arcane arts than others, why they are capable of learning what is known of High Draconic, or those who are possessed of a natural ability with magic that requires honing one’s instincts instead of long hours of study.  This could also explain why these naturally talented sorcerers eventually begin to develop some draconic features (scales appearing on their skin, claws and horns and the like).  This could likewise explain why some kobolds are much larger than others, and why these individuals have a more strongly draconic countenance and often exhibit greater control and power of their breaths, and their own efforts to reproduce children that possess these traits typically fail; perhaps there are only so many dragon souls to go around?

Though typically not associated with the theory, I hypothesize that certain individuals who have recorded frequent dreams of dragons in some form or another, may actually be reliving past-life experiences and memories of ancient times when they were once what we know as true dragons.  Perhaps this would also explain why some are so driven to explore the ancient past, and seemingly have the uncanny ability to locate lost relics with a “gut instinct”; dragons were known to acquire vast amounts of treasures, after all, and could supposedly know if a single coin was missing from their hoards, indicating some kind of link with objects of great wealth. 

Again, I could continue for some time discussing the intricacies of these theories, but I have duties I must attend, and I would not want to be late, lest Mother decide to step back into the gutter for her choice of tomorrow’s topic.  Perhaps I shall return to it later on; it is certainly one of the topics of which I most enjoy a spirited discussion.