Tag: Twin Twats from Tempest Tor

#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.

#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 #139 – Muckenmyre Month #18 – Secrets Beneath Swamp Drake Hold

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

The fetid scent of the swamp was heavy in the moist, vine-shrouded tunnel we found ourselves in.  Even the remarkable strength of the draconic construction couldn’t withstand the combined might of the swamp and time.  As we crept down the tunnel, I saw that it was lined with alcoves, each with a draconic visage carved into the walls at the rear of them, at least where the swamp hadn’t burst through or colonies of insects hadn’t nested.  Ahead, torchlight flickered, and the trio of voices grew louder, perhaps a hundred feet or so down from the stairs. 

I overheard some of their conversation, something about the significance of a particular statue in the next room, some laughter from the twins, sounds of exaggerated moaning and panting.  Easing toward the doorway, I crouched and eased myself out to peer inside the next chamber.  It was fairly large and rectangular, though the area off to the right was collapsed and partially flooded.  My quarry stood at far end on the opposite side of the big chamber, before a large, carved visage of a dragon, Charity leaning against Jaggedtusk, rubbing herself against him, while Chastity was pressing her ass against the sculpture, rubbing it and making the lewd noises as she squeezed her breasts. 

At least they were distracted, though there wasn’t much in the way of cover between them and us, and there was a good fifty feet of space between us.  If we just rushed out and tried to surprise them, it was very likely they’d have time to get a spell or two off.  Jaggedtusk had his axe resting on the floor, but leaned against its haft, so we’d have to contend with that as well. 

As Chastity rubbed her ass over the sculpture, there was a shifting of stone as something clicked loudly into place, and I held my breath, tensing to make a run out of the tunnel.  The twins laughed teasingly, both of them going to either side of the carving.  Working fast, they probed along the runes surrounding the dragon, then started pressing at the scales and horns of the draconic head.  There were more clicks, then a heavy sliding sound, a rumble of heavy, ancient machinery that vibrated the floor.  Then there was a hiss of escaping air, and the draconic visage split open, ancient doors sliding apart, revealing another stairwell descending even deeper. 

I looked to Satella, who had pressed herself close to me to watch the scene.  I nodded toward our prey, then back to the hall, asking for her opinion on how we should proceed.  With Jaggedtusk leading, one twin on either side, the trio descended into the newly revealed tunnel.  She shook her head, and eased back, motioning toward the tunnel that led to the surface.  In a low whisper, even though the trio were out of earshot by now, she said that we must help our comrades before giving chase, that we couldn’t risk the dangers that may lay beyond.  I nodded my agreement and so we made our way back to the upper level, bypassing the prisoners again, and slipping out into the courtyard again. 

I saw Jessiryn waiting and looking anxious and gave him the signal to start the attack.  I won’t spend overlong on the details; needless to say, by now, the bandits were getting drunk, and their lack of magical support meant that many died not knowing what hit them, while those that had any sense at all quickly surrendered, and we had only minor scrapes and bruises for our efforts.  The fight was over in minutes but took Satella and I nearly an hour to secure the survivors in a way that would ensure they gave us no trouble.  I kept an eye on the door to the jail frequently, but the missing trio didn’t make an appearance as we fought off the rest. 

Once we had the bandits taken care of, a dozen of them still alive, we left Abdel and Joseph behind to tend to the prisoners while the four of us chased after the primary prey. 

As we approached the recently revealed passageway, Augra was on edge, not liking the tight spacing her large frame would have to deal with.  Jessiryn and I led the way, while Satella took up the rear, as her eyesight was undoubtedly the worst amongst us being human.  There was a faint light coming from below, enough that I could at least see the end of the stairs, and so far, I couldn’t detect anything odd in the air other than a mustiness that reminded me of a tomb.  I mentioned this, and Satella advised us to be watchful for the restless dead, and of potential traps.  It was entirely possible that we would find our prey dead in a few short moments.  Still, I continued forward, intent upon my purpose.

#Lore24 – Entry #138 – Muckenmyre Month #17 – Against the Bandits

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

We approached Swamp Drake Hold once again, silent but for the faint rattle of the town guards’ weapons and armor.  Off in the darkness of the tall grasses, I could just hear the sound of movement, picked up the scent of a crocodile, heard the sound of flesh tearing from the body of one of the bandits Augra had downed earlier. 

The swamp wastes little time, it seems.

Our approach was masked by the continued celebration within the walls of the old fort, of music and laughter, though the twins’ pyrotechnics had since stopped.  Coming around to the side of the fort where Augra had earlier scouted, Satella and I eased along the mossy stone toward the old window that would be our entry point.  I eased myself up to peer over the smooth stone sill, keeping my ears low, and sought my quarry.  My tail twitched after a few moments; the twins were nowhere to be seen, nor was Jaggedtusk, the makeshift throne sitting empty as the bandits danced around and shared more of their ill-gotten drink. 

I had a scant few moments to assess the situation and hope that the twins would reappear before the attack was set to commence; Jessiryn and Abdel would open fire once they had climbed the walls.  I sniffed the air, picked up their scent trail mixed in amongst the smell of the many unwashed bodies, angling toward what we had identified as Jaggedtusk’s den.  Guessing what was likely underway, I thought then that perhaps we had actually received another blessing.  When I spotted Jessiryn atop the broken wall, readying his bow, I managed to meet his eye and quickly flashed elvish hand talk (something I had learned during my inquisitor training), indicating what I planned to do.  Surprise was clear upon his face at seeing what he’d likely assumed was something of an elvish secret, but after a moment, he nodded, and signed back that he had understood, easing back from the edge as he motioned Abdel to do the same.

Waiting for the right moment, when the bandits’ dancing had their line of sight mostly away from us, I slipped through the window and quickly ducked behind some water barrels and whispered to Satella to follow when the revelers had shifted away from us again.  Together we kept to the shadows at the edge of the fort and approached the leader’s den, the twins’ scents growing fresher.  I had expected to hear the trio in the throes of intense sex, but the den was strangely quiet, their trail leading beyond his den, toward the prison, and the two orcs standing guard at its doors.  I pondered what we would do for a few moments, then eased back into the shadows by one of the inner supporting walls, seeing Jessiryn crouched low in the darkness.  I flashed more hand talk to him, advising him to get ready to strike if my plan didn’t go as I’d hoped.

Once I had told Satella my plan, she simply nodded and prepared herself in the shadow-filled niche nearest to Jaggedtusk’s den, behind some recently looted crates.  Watching the two orcish guards a few moments more, I made my move, scurrying quickly on all fours from the shadows, lingering just long enough that my movements would be spotted, my tail lingering just a few heartbeats longer as I slipped by the boar hide covering doorway.  Surveying the room quickly, hearing heavy footsteps and muttered orcish approaching, I dove headlong into the pile of hides and furs that served as the chief’s bed, ignoring the sting of his strong scent mingling with that of the twins in my nose, the whole room heady with the scent of recent lovemaking. 

I barely had time enough to situate myself before the hide was pulled aside, one of the orc guards peering inside, his axe raised as he looked for whatever it was he’d seen enter the room.  His senses told him there was indeed something inside, and so he moved in, his companion coming up behind him, though he lingered at the doorway.  I dared not breathe as the orc moved carefully closer, trying to understand why he hadn’t seen the creature that had just came in.  From my position beneath the hides, I saw the shadow of Satella appear just behind the other orc, saw him stiffen has she delivered her nerve strike, momentarily paralyzing him, before she took hold of his head and gave a sharp twist. 

Hearing the crack of his companion’s neck bones, the orc looming near me turned, and at the same moment I threw aside the hides and was upon him, striking his throat with the edge of my hand with all the force I could muster, shattering his windpipe and any ability he had to call out in alarm.  Before he could do more than stagger, I delivered a full-bodied palm-strike straight into his nose, and as he staggered back, blood spraying, managed to grab hold of his head, wrenching it back and forth, getting the snap of bone; I let him fall limply to the floor and joined Satella by the door, waiting for the inevitable call of alert. 

But none came, though we waited for several moments longer.  Emboldened by our dealing with the guards, we drug their bodies to the bedding and hid them as best we could, then made our way silently toward the prison, eased the door open, and, seeing the way clear, moved inside.  I had perhaps expected Jaggedtusk and the twins to be doing something lewd with the prisoners, but to my surprise, they were nowhere in sight.  The prison was little more than a sizeable square room, with one corner containing a barred cell, and within it, a trio of women, shackled to the walls and floor, blindfolded, gagged, and naked.  Two were human, one was a mazoku, and, as Satella and I passed by the cell, none of them aware of our presence, I realized the mazoku was actually a rarer male as we passed and he shifted his position, though his body was every bit as shapely as a woman’s. 

But they were not our targets, not yet, and were fine as they were for now.  I led us onward, into the short hallway beyond, and saw stairs leading down, the faint flicker of torchlight visible below.  I paused at the top of the stairs, hearing muffled conversation drifting up from somewhere beneath us.  Intent upon my targets, I nodded to Satella and we crept down the stairs, into the dimly lit unknown that lay before us.

 

#Lore24 – Entry #137 – Muckenmyre Month #16 – Swamp Drake Hold

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

Though my primary targets were the twins, as a town marshal of Grimbridge, I was just as obligated to deal with the bandit threat and see them brought to justice alongside them, though the laws of the town stated that bandits, like pirates, were to be dealt with harshly unless they surrendered themselves for judgement.  Unlikely, given what I knew of bandits from the outskirts of the Empire; I doubted they were particularly different here.

Perhaps a hundred yards away from the nearest wall, at Jessiryn’s suggestion, I made heavy use of some of the plentiful mud to cover my skin, fur, and hair as he did; it would make it that much harder to be spotted, and my coloration would stand out, even to the less keen eyes of the human bandits, in the browns and greens that filled the area.  We had come to an outlying section of ancient collapsed stone, covered in moss and vines.  Augra had make quick work of a viper that had called the rubble home, snatching it up and tearing its head free as if it were nothing, and we made a makeshift hide using some additional moss and fallen branches to aid in concealing Satella, Abdel, and Joeseph while we scouted the old fort. 

With the general layout in mind, myself, Jessiryn, and Augra set out to locate and deal with any sentries, then see what we could gather about what was going on inside.  From the sound of things, the bandits were beginning a celebration of their successful raid on the caravan.  As we spread out and crept closer, I heard laughter and music start up, then saw flares of light fly into the sky, erupting low over the clearing in a multicolored pyrotechnic display, likely the work of the twins.  I could make out the well-worn draconic visages in the ancient stonework, even a few runes of draconic text as well, though it was far too decayed for me to have read it properly in the low light.

I came upon the first of the bandit watchers perhaps fifty feet from the old fort as he was pacing back and forth, his attention drawn to the celebration instead of his assigned duties.  When his gaze turned to another burst of magical light in the sky, I rose from the tall patch of swamp grass I’d been hiding in and brought him down silently, one hand over his mouth, then a quick twist and snap of bone, dragging him into the tall grass to conceal the body.  The next sentry was likewise distracted, and I dealt with him in kind.  I saw one bandit atop a section of the wall make his way toward the edge, drawn by something I didn’t hear or see, only to get an arrow through his throat before being pulled over the edge with nary a sound that could be heard over the party.

Making my way to the wall, I crept along its length to the makeshift gate that had been fashioned from logs and peered through the openings.  Indeed, the majority of the bandits were distracted by the twins, the blue- and red-skinned mazoku dancing around the big fire half-naked, magic sparkling around them as they danced to approving shouts of the bandits.  I counted a dozen of them, plus the leader, the orc named Jaggedtusk, who sat watching the dancers with great interest.  Another trio of bandits were off to one side, playing the lively tune on their fiddles and a flute.  The smell of unwashed bodies was strong, and I could discern there were other orcs about, for I picked up at least two different scents lingering besides that of the leader.

I watched in silence for a time, counting off the minutes in my head as the booze began to flow.  I spotted one of the other orcs making their way to the leader’s side, leaning down to say something to him.  Jaggedtusk laughed, shook his head, then went to the nearby roasting boars, tearing free a bloody chunk for himself, following it with a long draw from a dark bottle.  After about thirty minutes, I made my way back to the hide, meeting up with Augra and Jesiryn on the way.  He’d dealt with the one guard atop the wall, and she had dealt with two more, one of them an orc, and from their vantage points, had spotted another three amongst the bandits besides Jaggedtusk.  They filled in the details of the fort as best they could discern, indicating what was likely the storehouse for the stolen goods, the barracks, and the leader’s den.  It also appeared that the bandits had repurposed the old jail, and may have had at least two prisoners inside, perhaps more, women from what Augra had indicated she had heard. 

I reiterated the details of what I had learned of Charity and Chastity, and emphasized that they should be considered amongst the most dangerous of the bandits.  One well-placed spell could take out all of us, if their power hadn’t been exaggerated by the sailors and their previous displays.  I had originally intended on taking them alive, but if they’d thrown their lot in with the bandits, then they would suffer their fate as well, should the situation deem it necessary.  I could deal with them if I could catch them by surprise and my aim was true; arcanists cannot cast their spells without their voices or their arms, after all.  Though Satella was not as used to stealth as I, she was agile, and could make a decent effort to keep herself hidden, so we would prioritize the twins while the others dealt with the bandits.  Jessiryn and Abdel would get atop the walls and open up with their bows, and Augra and Joeseph would come in from either of the makeshift gates, while Satella and I would slip in and get as close to the twins as possible to neutralize them quickly.

The attack plan was solid, and thanks to Satella, we had received a blessing from Yurisaya, but as with most plans I have been involved with in my life, it would not  survive the first few moments of the attack.

#Lore24 – Entry #132 – Muckenmyre Month #11 – The Twin Twats from Tempest Tor

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

Quite the colorful phrasing, that, I must admit.  I suppose it’s fitting enough considering the name of the bar itself.

Though Blackjaw had described their skin as different colors, he insisted that the pair indeed looked identical.  Such things are not unheard of, given the chaotic nature of mazoku blood.  As we spoke to him further, and some of the more cooperative sailors still lingering in the bar, we learned that their names were Charity and Chastity, though my instincts told me those names were certainly NOT accurate descriptions of their natures.  We learned that no insignificant amount of coin had gone missing from the sailors’ pockets, and it’s likely that the two had used some charm magic to stir up the rage as a distraction while they slipped out unnoticed, for there was already suspicion on where the coin had gone.

Once the mayor and I had departed the Bloated Floater, for Satella had stayed to tend to those we had injured, we learned that two mazoku had been spotted running down the Span, had snatched a couple of horses from some of the travelers visiting the city, and rode as fast as possible through the market and out of the gates and onto the Grimbridge Way, tossing a few spells as they went to clear the evening crowd out of their path.  I picked up on their scents even as we crossed the Span and surveyed the damage to the market; mazoku are as rare as kerryn in Grimbridge, and they have a very unique quality to their scent, born of their demonic blood, not unlike brimstone, flavored with, in this case, an elemental affinity.  Oddly, it was only then that I realized that I had not gotten such a scent from Ashelyr when I had met her that morning, only the scent of the swamp.

With the blessing of Mayor Pleasence, I began questioning the sailors at the docks, discovered which ship had brought the twins in, and began to form a picture of what they were truly like.  They were known troublemakers, having booked passage from a city called Taross, far to the east, and around the southern tip of the continent, on the run from the authorities there.  The captain professed that he had nearly thrown them overboard several times because of their constant disruptions with his crew, but each time had been convinced otherwise, cursing their persuasive abilities, which tended towards using their not-insignificant sexual talents.  They are trained in the arcane arts as well; the red-skinned one, Charity, or Char, prefers fire magic, while Chastity, Chas, the blue-skinned one, prefers ice magic, and both had displayed considerable skill with their talents, at least possessing the ability to create destructive balls of their preferred elements, another reason the captain had hesitated to toss them off his ship.  On reflection, he wishes that he had gone ahead and took the risk, for the generous sum they had paid him for their passage had been taken, along with most of his other funds, about the time they had docked in Grimbridge.

As to the colorful moniker Blackjaw had labeled them with, the sailors had heard it before, but could not tell me exactly where it had originated, only that Tempest Tor was a town in the far northeast with a reputation for producing disreputable sorts.  Apparently, Charity and Chastity had earned quite the reputation even before they had wound up in Taross looking for passage out of the region.

Whatever lead they had managed while I investigated them wouldn’t matter for long.  I had hunted many enemies of the Empire in my life, set on their trails with little else but their physical descriptions, if that, and eventually rooted them out in the end, so knowing more of the twins’ natures would make things much simpler.  I would see to it these two were brought in for whatever justice was deemed necessary. 

They would not escape me.

I was not entirely sure why I made this declaration to myself then, and later to the mayor and Satella.  Perhaps during my short time in Grimbridge, I had grown rather protective of the town that had shown me such kindness?  Perhaps it was just my belief that the law existed for a reason, and it should be respected and obeyed?  Perhaps my short time living outside the Empire had already tainted my mind?  Was this…living free, making a decision like that on my own?  Or was I just grasping at the familiar, trying to stick to what I knew best, perhaps in the hope of one day returning to serve my Emperor?

By now, it was well after sunset, and the town was abuzz with discussion about the disturbance to the usual calm.  I returned to Mayor Pleasence, who had convened the town council to discuss the disruption, and what steps were to be taken next.  I waited to be addressed beside Satella and several other residents, even a few visitors to the town, who had shown up to watch the proceedings, and once I had been called, gave them my report on what I had learned of my prey, for that is what I considered them now.  Constable Tamblyn seemed impressed with what information I had managed to collect in such a short time.  I made it clear that I would be involved in hunting them down, as I had their scent, and knew well how to track fugitives.  This caused something of a stir, and some of the less trusting of the council demanded an explanation, though the mayor quashed this, stating that now was not the time.

After some more discussion on the matter, it was decided that I, and Satella, when she volunteered to accompany me, would lead a group of volunteers from the town watch to apprehend the twins and bring them back to Grimbridge to face judgement.  As such, we would be granted a temporary position as town marshals and provided with horses and supplies for the hunt.  We were given instructions not to delve too deeply into the Muckenmyre if the twins went off the Way, for the swamp would handle them in its own way if they ventured too far out.

We were off within the hour following this.  It would be only a matter of time until the twins were found and captured; I had no doubts in myself or Satella in this.  I worried over the watch members more than myself; even though I was given the lead in this endeavor, they were now my responsibility, and that would constantly linger in my thoughts as we grew further from town.

#Lore24 – Entry #131 – Muckenmyre Month #10 – Harsh Discipline at The Bloated Floater

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

As I attempted to express the council’s lack of interest in the glassware to the merchant, there came shouts from the Bloated Floater.  Though I had not been to the dockside bar myself, I was aware of its reputation for being a place for sailors, and that it was not for the faint of heart; the owner, a dwarf by the name of Hafus Blackjaw, had something of a reputation involving his pet crocodiles, and though I was not privy to the details yet, I could certainly guess.  There were a larger than usual number of ships in the port this day, and as I would soon find out, some of the crews of these vessels were not on friendly terms. 

It was the crashing of wood, followed by a loud battle cry that drew our attention to the bar.  A moment later a dozen sailors ran out, and the sounds of broken glass, more snapping wood, and angry shouting followed.  A few more stragglers ran out, one with a bleeding head staggered out, only to be pulled back in by a muscular orcish arm.  The mayor commanded some of those gathered to seek out the constable and some of the town watch and hurried toward the bar.  I followed, though he tried to dissuade me from getting involved.  I shook my head and continued alongside him, a few other council members following us.  As kind as he had been to me, I would not allow harm to come to him if I could possibly stop it; it was my duty in a way, or at least, I considered it to be so.

Another bleeding man came crashing through a window as we approached, and the sound of battle within was intense.  The mayor called out for an immediate halt to the fight as he entered the front doors, but as I entered, I could see that there was little hope he’d even been heard, and none that anyone involved would have listened.  As Mayor Pleasence again tried to shout down the fury of two dozen drunken sailors, one of them hurled a bottle toward him. 

I reacted without thought, caught the bottle before any damage was done.  I heard one of the councilmen gasp in surprise.  In the next moment, I shoved him away from us while forcing the mayor aside as a tabletop was flung at us.  Though I felt little in the way of anger, I could see the mayor was outraged, and had already set himself to get involved.  Given the fact that I’d seen him practicing his swordplay several times now, it was hardly unexpected.  As I caught his eye, I nodded my understanding and led the way into the chaos; better to let them focus on me first.

It was my first battle in some time, and I was perhaps a bit out of practice despite the exercises I performed daily with Satella.  I only managed to disable three of the sailors during my initial attack, catching the first in a nerve cluster on his back with a strike that left him whimpering upon the floor, while I struck his companion with a kick that shattered his knee, while I caught the third with a flurry of quick strikes to disorient him, then landed a solid punch to his gut that had him doubled over on the floor.  I managed to deflect several poorly aimed strikes from fists and improvised weapons from others as I stepped back to provide cover for the mayor, caught a few blows myself, but the blows were hardly anything for me to worry about. 

The mayor was not skilled in the Arts as I am, but he was no stranger to brawling.  He dealt with several in his own way as I continued to provide cover and strike as opportunities permitted, leaving many broken bones and painful nerve strikes in my wake.  I probably took as many blows as I landed, none that were terribly serious, though, the worst being a broken rib as I stepped in front of an enraged orc and blocked a blow to the mayor’s head from the table leg he had been wielding as a club.  I then took it from him, struck a blow that knocked out several teeth, and proceeded to break both of his arms and one knee.  It has been my experience that orcs do not go down easily when angry, so one must be thorough, doubly so when they’re also drunk.

The fight had mostly left the remaining dozen or so sailors by this point; the arrival of the constable and a half dozen of the town watch helped settle their ire further as they looked upon the many disabled fighters on the bar’s floor.  Though I remained watchful, I had little doubt there would be further trouble as I gazed at them and watched them shrink away from my glare.  With the watch moving in to secure the troublemakers, I noticed that Satella had followed them, and had leaned in through the front door, smiling pleasantly as she took in the scene.  She came in, stepping over the destruction, atop one of the unlucky sailors who lay groaning on the floor, to my side. 

The mayor declined Satella’s offer to heal him, said that his wounds were not so serious, but I could tell he was nursing a broken rib of his own, and his head had a nasty gash from a broken bottle that I had not managed to intercept in time.  Feeling that I had failed in some way, knowing that allowing my charge to be wounded was not acceptable for a member of the Stellae Illustris, I nonetheless offered to heal him myself.  He was surprised that I had suggested it, as I hadn’t told him I possessed such abilities.  I assured him he would not feel the same agony as one would when healed by Yurisaya.  He agreed, and I placed one hand upon his torso, the other over his head wound, and called upon the magic I had been taught by the Stellae Illustris. 

It was indeed healing, of a sort.  I felt the skin on my brow tear open as if it was I who had been struck by the bottle, felt another two ribs break.  My vision blurred momentarily as his pain flowed into me, my breathing becoming labored, but I did not make a sound aside from a grunt.  The mayor seemed more disturbed by this than the prospect of Satella’s healing as I eased myself into a nearby seat.  The wounds would heal eventually, faster than natural healing, but it would still take a few days.

Satella had other ideas, though; she lay her hand upon my shoulder and uttered a healing prayer, and I felt the fiery healing of Yurisaya erupt through me.  I did gasp then, my broken ribs resetting themselves, my flesh feeling as though it was being flensed by a razor as it knitted together.  As the merciful agony began to fade, I thanked her, and as the mayor fixed me with a quizzical look, I assured him that I would answer any questions he had when there was time.

For now we picked ourselves up and spoke to Blackjaw about what had transpired within his bar.  He’d spent most of the brawl safely behind his bar, and was quite vocal about who was ultimately responsible for getting the sailors riled up:  “’Twas a pair of mazoku wenches, it was!  One of them red, the other blue, flirting with one man after another, using their damned demon charms on them, they did!  Wasn’t five minutes passed after they had shook their asses through my bar that the fighting started!  ‘Twas the twin twats from Tempest Tor!”