Tag: ruins

#Lore24 – Entry #240 – Helica Month #28 – The Third Scroll

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

It took us several weeks in the demon-infested seas to make significant headway on our excavations, for the Transgressor had been spotted before our arrival and had stirred them up.  Still, one must work hard for their rewards upon Helica, and my goal was clear.  Once we had reached the ancient city and surveyed it properly, I identified another shrine complex.  This time I would not be alone when venturing into it, for the seas were still dangerous.  Fortunately, I had a group of Drakonae warriors with me, and they were of a breed that were able to breathe underwater, so they were able to assist me in staying down much longer than usual with my work by carrying extra air tanks for me and were quite adept at fending off the demons. 

This shrine complex was mostly intact, though partially buried in centuries of silt and debris, so took some time to excavate, requiring multiple trips down.  I think the presence of Saghirah was somewhat unnerving to my dive-mates, especially when the eyes of her statue began to glow once they were uncovered.  We would later go on to uncover other shrines, and for those of the Amaranths that were still in existence, I could feel their presence now as well, though not as strongly as that of Saghirah.  With their return to this underwater shrine, the demon activity in the area lessened significantly. 

Soon enough, I would find the sacred chamber hidden beneath Saghirah’s shrine, sealed away from the accumulation of silt.  Even though it remained underwater for so long, the third scroll case was unmarred and seemingly as out of place in time as I am, appearing pristine in the gloomy water.  I would nonetheless work carefully to secure it within my pack for the return to the surface and would fight through my fatigue of the dive to see its secrets revealed before I would rest.  I had retrieved some of my previously cached knowledge in the short visits I had made to the mainland in the intervening years, and quickly added the new revelations of this scroll to my previous notes.  The picture has become much clearer now, and I know with absolute certainty that Helica has only so much longer left to live before the Transgressor is ultimately successful in its desire to see it utterly destroyed. 

All will be revealed elsewhere, however, for I have but one more scroll to find, though I know not where as of yet.  My work in assisting the Ketzeryn will continue in the meantime, until I can discern the final scroll’s resting place.  We have found knowledge that, if we are able to bring it into being, would change the face of Helica and potentially deliver a major blow to the iron-fisted control of the Church, though for now it is but a dream.

#Lore24 – Entry #239 – Helica Month #27 – Tranquilities Come and Go, and Yet I Remain

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

I would spend many years amongst the Ketzeryn, traveling amongst the many islands they called their home, in the regions where the Phyresians dared not venture.  I would visit many ruins, both above the sea and below, for the Ketzeryn have managed to restore ancient diving equipment to a mostly working order that allowed us to descend to depths I could never have imagined before, to see ancient buildings and wonders that were long forgotten.  Though much of the ancient technology we found was irreparable, some of the knowledge remained in the form of physical archives, though it would consume many of my years translating the languages that had long been forgotten.

The world of Helica is so much larger than I had once imagined it.  The largest of the continents are held by the Phyresians, while so many more were sunk below the waves in the centuries since the arrival of the Transgressor, either through its immense destructive power or the rising of the sea following the melting of what were once massive polar regions, housing cities and peoples all their own, many of which are now extinct upon Helica. 

I would spend only so long with certain groups, no more than a decade or so with each, before I would drift to another, exploring another region of the world.  The elves amongst the Ketzeryn knew there was something unnatural about me, and many of the shorter-lived races suspected it.  At last, nearly seventy years after I had first joined them, time enough for another Tranquility to come and go upon Helica, I would formally speak to the Ketzeryn elders about my mission.  By now, the seeds I had long been planting of the true nature of the Transgressor had begun to take hold in them, and I did not fear reprisal of any sort.  So, over the course of several days, upon the Ketzeryn’s most secure island home, Gallanholm, in their city of Abu Masfurah, I would for the first time relate my tale to the elders. 

The stir my story and knowledge caused amongst the Ketzeryn elders was significant, but at least they were willing to listen, whereas the Phresians would certainly have closed off their ears to such heresy and have had me killed or once more enslaved.  I sought only to continue my search for the remaining scrolls of Saghirah, to find the absolute truth of the Transgressor and see its destructive cycle end once and for all.  Some thought me insane, and I suppose I can’t blame them for that; I’m certain my time with Tephysea had left me a little unstable, but my nightmares of my frequent tortures had faded through the years, and it had been some time since I had awoken screaming and thrashing about as if possessed.

Word would arrive as our discussions came to an end of a new ruin site discovered in the eastern seas that looked promising.  That night I would be granted the first vision from Saghirah I had experienced since the one that had taken me into the wildlands, though I heard they have since been renamed and civilized since I was there.  It was clear that I had to be part of the expedition to this new site, for there I would the third scroll.  The elders would continue to consider how the knowledge I had given them would be used, and I was granted permission to continue my work with their blessings and would set off the following day.

#Lore24 – Entry #236 – Helica Month #24 – The Lost Years

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

One cannot appreciate the simple things in life, such as feeling the sun upon your skin, or the act of writing in one’s journal, until one has been forced to live as a Beast under the control of the Church of Phyresis.  I thought certainly that I was to be sentenced to death when I was captured along the banks of the Rusting River, but I was granted a “merciful” punishment by Tephysea and enslaved with the others who have displeased the Church, even with the truths I knew.

I did learn something of the process of creating a Beast when the sentence was carried out, and that the Order of the Tamers has a completely different meaning than the one that is commonly known, for it is they who are responsible for developing the process, and it is a special sect within their ranks that oversee its application.  I was placed within the lowest ranks of Beasts, the Servant Breed, my magical arts sealed away, and my leash extremely short. 

As a Beast, I would be made to serve my accuser, Tephysea, exclusively.  I would learn that she possessed a nature even more sadistic than what I had only guessed at before, and every little infraction was punished with pain that often times left me unable to move for several hours.  Though the rubbery flesh of a Beast is resilient to the elements and in the case of the hardier breeds, physical damage, it seemed that mine only amplified the agony I experienced.  Even more insidiously, all the while I was trapped within the new flesh, I was subjected to a constant psychic nudging to obey, serve, and worship the One True God, almost as if its very voice were in my head.  I do not yet know if this was a special punishment for me, or if all Beasts must suffer like this until they willingly accept the commands and do as they are told.  I am not sure if my mental fortitude was a blessing or a curse in all honesty.

I won’t further detail my time as a Beast, for I wish to forget as much of it as I can.  As Tephysea’s slave, I would learn disappointingly little, for I was hardly more than a pet for her to amuse herself with and was kept far away from her machinations.  The outside world may well not have existed for me, for my world revolved around her and her alone, and when I was not caged, I was being tortured behind closed doors. 

It is indeed a sad state that one finds themselves in when the awakening of the Transgressor is seen as a blessing, though this has led to another somewhat unsettling train of thought regarding the Beasts’ existence.  I am curious as to whether the Beasts are somehow magically preserved by their enforced state, for none who knew of my fate seemed surprised by the fact that I lived as long as I did without seemingly succumbing to old age or frailty. 

For, you see, it had been just over sixty years since I was made a Beast, and only the timely arrival of the Transgressor would see me freed of my sentence.  This time, when it came, the Wicked One came to Tyraguard itself and announced its presence by attacking the most holy of cities on Helica.  Tephysea was, conveniently enough, away from the city on one of my few reprieves from her cruelty.  Thinking back on the timing of her absences, I have come to realize what it was she was doing but will not discuss it here.

I am not certain how I survived the blast which destroyed the residences I had been secured within, but suffice to say I awoke sometime later, naked and bleeding on the newly expanded waterfront Tyraguard had gained, the Beast’s magical bond to me apparently broken by the Transgressor’s attack.  With the Sylvanae presence at a minimum given the timing of Tephysea’s absence, I was not recognized by the human priests who found me and took me to one of the treatment stations to tend my wounds, and no signs of my Beast flesh remained to clue them in, its magical anchors, the collar and shackles, melted away.

I wasted no time when I could finally move and hastily fled the city, blending in amongst the refugees bound south for San Granalle.  Though my mind and spirit were unsettled at the time, I would nonetheless plan to resume my journey once I had sufficiently recovered my senses, and I would pick up where I left off in this strange yet familiar world.  I feel it will be some time before my mind is at any kind of ease on my task.  I can still hear the voice of the One True God echoing in my head even though the influence of the Beast’s shell is gone, and I still suffer a keen paranoia and sensitivity to sensations that could only have come from my torture at the hands of the wood elf.  I was never one for vengeance, but it seems I may be developing a taste for it.

#Lore24 – Entry #235 – Helica Month #23 – An Unfortunate Meeting

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

In the weeks I had spent within the Wildlands, word of my survival had reached the ears of those whom I had hoped would ignore such a rumor, and upon my return to the Highlands, I found that the presence of the Church ‘s soldiers was greatly increased, and they possessed orders to apprehend me on sight.  There was no doubt about this, certainly, for I saw posters plastered in every village I came across with my likeness, decrying me as a heretic and a threat to common decency.  It took little imagination who it was that was responsible for such a decree.

I would not make it easy for them, however.  Though the Church’s gaze was practically everywhere, I had long ago learned many ways to travel unnoticed and was no stranger to living in the inhospitable wilderness that most would fear to tread without a proper armed escort.  So it was that I updated my cached documents in their many hiding places in the following days and weeks, avoiding people when I could, and disguising myself when I had no choice but to venture into civilization. 

I have yet to receive further visions from Saghirah, so I must busy myself with finding ways to funnel this information to those willing to listen and who may learn from it, to begin cracking the foundations of the Church, if you will.  A printing press would have worked wonders for this task, but alas, I cannot carry such a thing with me easily, and certainly could not risk remaining in one place too long.  Thus, I have decided that I will attempt to reach the first of those who may be willing to listen to me, the Ketzeryn.

[The following paragraphs have been scrawled hastily.]

Curse my luck!  I’ve been recognized by some of the fishermen that arrived at the docks as I attempted to secure passage down the Rusting River in the hopes of reaching the coast in a matter of days instead of weeks, and now the Sylvanae soldiers are on my trail!  I remember these men, for we had spent an evening with them as our Crusade traveled toward the Frozen-Tree Timberland.  I don’t blame them for the lies they’ve little choice but to believe, but I fear I may be captured unless I can find somewhere to hide, though I know of no such places along the river, and I am dangerously close to Sylvanae territory. 

I will hide this journal away in the ruins I’ve come across, part of those jutting from the ruined city that lies beneath the Rusting River.  May the Amaranths preserve me, for I fear that my time on Helica has come to an end.  The Sylvanae are literally coming out of the woodwork like a furious swarm; Tephysea cannot have me remain as a threat to her growing power.  Forgive me, Empress Saghirah, for I have failed you.

[No further entries have been made.]

#Lore24 – Entry #234 – Helica Month #22 – The Second Scroll

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

My travels would eventually lead me into the extreme northwest territory, a broken and shattered wasteland that once was perhaps a great city amongst the mountains, littered with ruins of the past.  There were even some rusted hulks of ancient forbidden machines laying amongst the rocky spires, some kinds of ships that were able to traverse the skies themselves.  It was this area that I had dreamed of, almost exactly as I found it now, right down to the tribal markings that indicated ownership by some monstrous race or another.  After some further exploration of the surrounding remnants, I approached the broken remains of another shrine complex, similar in layout to the one I had found in Grad Artanais, though in a much worse state, fully three-quarters of it broken off and vanished beneath the churning sea far below, ending at a crumbling, shear drop.  And yet, as I ventured inside, I saw that the shrine of Saghirah yet remained, and sensed her presence once again, though her statue was long ago shattered and defaced. 

With some effort, I found the hidden chamber I knew would be there, though I had to spend quite some time digging my way through the collapsed rubble.  The inner chamber was in a sad state as well, all but one of the additional visages of the Amaranth broken, most of the circular space filled with rubble from the collapse, but the altar remained, and upon it rested another scroll case.  Perhaps I was simply more jaded now, for the revelations contained within the ancient text were not as jarring to me as had been contained within the first scroll, but the information within was nonetheless enlightening. 

Given what I had witnessed in Grad Artanais and the betrayal that I had suffered, much of the true nature of Phyresis and the Church that worshipped it was brought to light, in glaring contradiction to the accepted truths they have spread across civilized Helica.  No more will I say here for now, for the time is not right, nor is this the right place.  I have brought a sufficient supply of materials that I may properly copy and retell all that I have thusly learned, and I will cache these copies safely away for the future, should I be unsuccessful in my efforts. 

Saghirah has entrusted this task to me, however, so I cannot allow myself to fail, for the sake of Helica and its people.

#Lore24 – Entry #233 – Helica Month #21 – Digging into the Past, Saving the Future

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

Now that I was unbound by the dire threat of a horde of raiders sweeping across the border wall, I could take time to properly appreciate the ruins that lay partially buried within the Wildlands that I had only glimpse from afar before.  It almost felt like old times as I traversed the crater that marked one of the Transgressor’s prior destructive sweeps, taking note of the similar but slightly different architecture that marked the era that preceded the monster’s arrival.  It was not my destination, though it was on the way, and brought a certain kind of peace to my troubled mind.

It was hard to miss the expanded presence of the Church patrols out here now.  Beyond the border wall, they had maintained their presence in the city that had served as the bandit leader’s base of operations, likely to ensure that there were no further uprisings, but given that they were rebuilding it and adding new fortifications, I imagined they were going to be staying a lot longer.  It was somewhat unusual for the Church to expand so quickly, but perhaps that came with the influence of a certain Sylvanae summoner who now held a great deal of power within the church; I’d heard rumors she was already on her way to the very topmost ranks of its leadership. 

I avoided coming in too close, taking a roundabout route that led me through additional ruins, where I noticed signs of recent habitation from the fleeing monstrous races we had driven out of the area.  Thus far I had encountered none of them, likely driven into the depths of the earth or wiped out entirely.  I doubt that they would have appreciated my coming regardless, but I wonder if perhaps there could have been a peaceful resolution that would have allowed me time to speak with them about what they might have known about their land and its history.

My journey was not without its hardships, though, for there were plenty of demons for me to deal with, though they were nowhere near as fierce as they were with the Transgressor’s awakening, almost as if their fighting spirit had been drained from them.  All the better for me, given that I ventured into these lands alone.  I continued to see signs of recent habitation here and there, old campsites or abandoned villages, and could only wonder where the former inhabitants had gone in the wake of the Church’s culling.  I would be curious to attempt to explore and try to seek them out after some more time had passed, but that would have to wait, for I neared my destination.

#Lore24 – Entry #223 – Helica Month #11 – The Many Amaranths of Helica

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

Once I had managed to set up my lantern, I began clearing the accumulated dust and dirt of a few hundred years from the walls of the chamber.  Beneath them lay carved murals, most still with their brilliant paints still visible, though many had suffered cracks and collapsed sections due to the shifting of the earth around them.  I had no way of knowing for sure, but I got the sense that these were perhaps ancient even in the heyday of Grad Artanais.

The chamber was generally circular in shape but was composed of twenty-four walls set at slight angles to one another to form the angled circle.  The murals themselves were each about three-feet wide and as tall as the chamber itself, about twelve feet, and covered twenty-two of the walls, the last two being reserved for the entrance I had used, and another which was collapsed after a half-dozen feet. 

The first of the murals I examined were of fantastic creatures at once familiar and strange, bearing features of the wildlife of Helica, but grander, more exotic, and possessed of an intelligent countenance.  It was when I laid my eyes upon the foxlike figure of the Amaranth Glacia within an otherworldly snow-covered forest that I realized what these murals were.  Sure enough, as I progressed, I discovered images of the great birdlike Makani amongst the clouds, Cinza the fire dragon in his volcanic realm, and Kayalik the equine Amaranth of earth in a rocky valley.  Then there was Saghirah in her winged feline form, imperious upon her throne, above her temple in a great desert, and Nur-Atahk, the majestic, winged serpent guardian of the holy city of Tyraguard.  And yet, that was the entirety of the Amaranths I recognized, a mere six of the twenty-two! 

What were the names of these other Amaranths, and why were they not revered to this day?  Why were some of them more human in appearance than others?  Were they perhaps no longer living or unable to exist upon Helica?  Had they been destroyed at some time during the past, perhaps during the first battles with the Transgressor?  Had these Amaranths been forgotten to time?  Or had the church tried to hide their existence like they had attempted with Saghirah?  Had they too had representations in the temple complex in Grad Artanais that had been buried and lost?  So many questions flooded through my mind then.  This had to have been what Saghirah had wanted me to learn on Ukejama!

Though I didn’t have names to go along with most, I hastily began sketching the murals to the best of may abilities, making sure to include as much detail as I could manage, especially the symbols and ancient lettering I was not familiar with, for I would surely be using these as a guide for my future research.  There was so much yet to learn, so much that had been lost of Helica’s history that I may never know, but Saghirah willing, with her blessing, maybe I will uncover those lost truths, or at least, the most important of those truths.

#Lore24 – Entry #222 – Helica Month #10 – Upon Ukejama Island

Excerpt from the Journals of Azita Gaji, Explorer of Helica, Seeker of Knowledge, Blessed of Saghirah

Though I have never been to Ukejama Island previously, I was aware through my research that there were ruins from the same age as the holy city of Grad Artanais dotting the jungles of the island, though there was little information on what they may have once contained, to the point that I seriously doubted they had ever been seriously explored. 

We arrived mostly intact from our journey through the demon-infested seas, the frequency of attacks lessening as we got further from San Granalle where the Transgressor first appeared.  So, when we arrived at Ukejama, we found the locals on alert, their fishing fleets staying closer to the island itself, but for the most part, life hadn’t changed in this distant place.  The villagers were hungry for news of what had happened, and their were plenty of others aboard, seeking to have their chance to become full-fledged summoners, who were eager to tell them all of what had occurred. 

Ascending the holy mountain to the temple of the Amaranth Makani was a challenge for Esekia and Zubayr, the first having lived an easy life in the temples of the capitol city Tyraguard, and the second having not been on a serious adventure for some time.  For the Stalker and myself the ascent was enough to get the blood flowing, and paled in comparison to my journeys across the sacred peaks of Temismere. 

As it would turn out, we had little to worry about in terms of guarding our charge during this time, for the many would-be summoners who sought to tame the Amaranth meant that we would have to wait our turn, which gave me a chance to explore the ruins for myself.  Though of the same vintage as the city of Grad Artanais, the ruins hidden within the jungles were of a different civilization, one that was not immediately recognizable, and likely lost, the stone structures mostly overgrown or buried by what I could assume were massive upheavals of the land itself, perhaps during the first coming of the Transgressor when the world had first fallen under its terrible influence.  Unfortunately, I would be unable to immediately find signs of a shrine to Saghirah, for I could find no access beyond perhaps a hundred feet into the structures, so bad was the collapse.

I was about to call my explorations finished when I found a hidden pathway amongst the last of the ruins I could find, the place partially flooded due to its proximity to the sea.  The passage was treacherous to say the least, for I feared a collapse at any moment, but I could not leave it unexplored.  My perseverance was worth it, though, for I came to a mostly intact chamber which contained signs that it had once been related to the Amaranths, perhaps once maintained by the priests and priestesses who once served them.  Here, I would learn much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fear within the jail rose significantly.

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

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

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

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