Tag: Yurisaya

#Lore24 – Entry #125 – Muckenmyre Month #4 – Mayor Pleasence

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

I would find out after my awakening the following morning that I had been in the small room for a handful of days, that it was a bed in the town mayor’s home that I inhabited.  Throughout my recovery, Satella dutifully tended to me as my strength slowly returned.  During my stubborn insistence upon trying to care for myself, she was kind enough to let me try, and only stepped in once it was clear that I was still too weak to do more than walk about the room a time or two.  My wounds were healing cleanly, in spite of several places that had become infected, and now that my bones were set properly, with the aid of her goddess, I could move my body again.  Not normally, certainly, but that would return in time as I grew steadily stronger.

It was on the third day, late in the evening as the sun set, that I would finally meet the town mayor, Dannold Pleasence.  Satella prepared dinner as I continued the exercises that had once been second nature, but now seemed so exhausting, when the mayor returned.  As I would learn, he had been forced to leave town the day I had been brought in on some business to the north and had made the quick decision to allow Satella to use his home for my care.  I listened as he spoke quietly to Satella about my condition, could smell the strong odor of the swamp upon him as his sweaty scent drifted through the door. 

Much clearer of thought now that I had had time to process my situation, I wasted no more time and exited my room.  My immediate impression of the mayor was that he was something of a dour man, his shaven head bearing a few battle scars, one in particular which had remained after a strike had nearly taken his left eye, from the crown of his head to his jaw, his skin sun-worn and rough from age and a hard life.  He was in his middle years, but still had the strong body of a warrior and a laborer, and I saw his two-handed sword leaning in its scabbard by the outer door of the home. 

As he turned to address me, I immediately dropped to my knees and prostrated myself before him, begging his forgiveness at having imposed myself upon him in such a way, to express my sincere sorrow that a lowly slave such as myself had inconvenienced him so, and to thank him profusely for his kindness and generosity.  He was silent as I finished my outburst, but I dared not look up for fear of angering him, though I smelled a subtle change in his scent that told me he was more confused than anything, perhaps even embarrassed.  I got the impression he had looked to Satella for guidance in how to respond, but I could not say what her look had been.  I had done the same to her once I was strong enough, as was proper of a slave, but she had taken it in stride, insisting that it was no trouble, and for me not to worry myself over such things anymore.

After a long, awkward pause, the mayor finally managed to respond.  “That’s quite enough of that, my dear,” he said.  “You’re not in the Empire anymore, and I’ll not have that kind of behavior in my home, my town.”  As he approached, I expected him to kick me, or perhaps yank my hair so that he could deliver a firm slap to my face.  Instead, he guided me to my feet and brought me to the table in the dining area, even pulled the chair out and helped me to sit.  I was a little taken aback by this, to say the least, being unaccustomed to such treatment. 

Put somewhat off balance by this, my inquisitor’s instincts telling me to tread carefully for fear of a trap of some kind, I answered his questions honestly as Satella served our dinner, recounting why I had been aboard the doomed ship and what I recalled of my journey to Grimbridge.  He did not pry into my past much at all, didn’t even ask me as to the nature of my spiked collar and cuffs.  He knew I was a slave of course, but did not recognize the mark of the Stellae Illustris upon it; Satella had not mentioned it either, so perhaps they had no knowledge of what it meant?  He honestly seemed more concerned over the state of my body.  I assured him that Satella’s healing had worked well, and it was simply a matter of time before I was back to normal, but his concerns were of my old scars, specifically my slave brands, for they are upon both arms, and surrounded by deeper scarring. 

My brands are not unique, certainly, but are rarer amongst the kerryn slaves given my nature as not only a slave trainer buy as an inquisitor.  Most slaves will receive a magical brand upon the underside of their forearm marking them as property, showing who owns them at but a glance, given to them with little pain.  Mine were done not with magic, but heated metal, burning my owner’s insignia upon my flesh.  Some owners will still brand their slaves thusly if they have a taste for the sadistic.  I’ve had many owners in my life, and each time requires the old brands to be removed by peeling away the flesh, regrowing it anew through magical healing, and then reapplying the brand.  I hesitated to share this information, but for whatever reason, perhaps it was the compassion I felt from both he and Satella, I revealed the exact process, if not what it meant.  Satella was not fazed by this revelation, though Mayor Pleasence was…horrified.  My reassurances that such branding was not common did little to cure his unease, and I apologized immediately for upsetting him so; he barely touched his dinner after that, though he insisted that I had done nothing wrong.

He also insisted that an apology wasn’t needed, and that I wouldn’t need to worry about such treatment again.  When I inquired as to why, he stated that winter was upon them, and that the seas would be dangerous to traverse, even this far south.  Even if I wanted to return to the Empire, which, at the time, I certainly did, for it was my duty to serve the Emperor, may He live forever, I could not do so for several months, and it was his intention to teach me that kerryns were not slaves on this side of the world, whatever I may think of myself.

I could hardly believe it at that moment.  Kerryns free?  Not enslaved, as was proper?  How could that even be possible?  How could we be trusted with such freedom?  Surely there must be some kind of restrictions placed upon us? 

It made little sense to me.  Seemed absolutely reckless, dangerous even. 

Mayor Pleasence told me then that he would show me around town himself the following morning if Satella gave him the okay to do so.  She had no objections, had even picked out some clothing that would be more appropriate for me to wear.

My introduction to this strange new land would come on the morrow, for better or for worse. 

After dinner, when we had retired for the night, I held my collar again, ran my fingers over the rust-dulled spikes and thought of the Emperor, of home, of my life leading up to that fateful voyage to the Dragon Isles.  I had no true friends; slave trainers such as myself had no kerryns who would willingly associate with us, save those who were made to study under us, and only then in for the hope of gaining some form of power over our lesser slave-kin, and we were but tools for our masters to use. None in the Inquisition would call me friend; ally, perhaps, but certainly not friend. 

For the first time I began to have thoughts that would be considered treasonous for a Stellae Illustris, no, blasphemous, perhaps would be more accurate.  Who was the Emperor if not our god, and how could we possibly consider a life without being in his service?  How could a kerryn consider a life lived…free?

I did not sleep that night, did not realize that I had been so deep in thought until the first rays of the sun began to come through the window, the scent of early rain on the warm breeze that wafted through. 

#Lore24 – Entry #124 – Muckenmyre Month #3 – The Yurisayan Priestess

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

It took me a few moments in my confusion to register all of the details of the woman who had entered the room.  Very unbecoming of an Inquisitor, perhaps, but she had caught me at an uncharacteristically vulnerable moment.  I recognized the holy symbol that dangled from the leather collar about her neck immediately once I had come to some semblance of my senses, that of the Lady Yurisaya, worn as one who had dedicated themselves to the Dark Lady’s service would.  She was a shapely human woman, shorter than myself, though most humans are, her brown hair done up in a pair of tight buns atop her head, her eyes almond-shaped and a deep brown.  She wore a revealing black leather dress, somehow managing to win the battle against gravity by virtue of the size of the woman’s breasts and the strap that was secured above them, high slits in the dress revealing her muscular thighs.  She wore long leather gloves and thigh-length high heels, all in black, her boots marred only by signs of having traversed dirty streets.  Her scent was of some floral soap, sweat, leather, and something more familiar, that of blood.

I was familiar with the followers of Yurisaya, but her style of dress was unfamiliar, and though expectedly revealing, not like that of the priestesses seen throughout the Empire.  She bowed in greeting, her voice soft, compassionate as she introduced herself as Satella Schnyder.  I gave my name in turn, dipping my head as low as possible, keenly noting the lack of my collar, reverting back to the meek, deferential tone as was expected for a kerryn slave.  She came to the bedside, knelt in front of me and continued to smile up at me, taking my hand in her own as she began a prayer. 

Once her prayer had ended, she rose, still holding my hand, and sat beside me, looking at once sad and hopeful.  She began our conversation rather casually, expressing that she was pleased that she had arrived in Grimbridge in time to offer her aid to me, that Yurisaya herself had guided her to me to be my caregiver.  I couldn’t begin to understand why; what did the gods care about kerryn slaves?  We were forsaken, were we not, following our attempt to destroy the world by bringing demons upon it? 

She then told me that in order to heal my bones properly, we would be forced to break them again, that she was certain I had regained enough strength to handle the procedure without further complications, and that it would have to be performed soon.  I again meekly replied in the affirmative, for my slave’s mind had already assumed that this woman was to be my new owner, that she would have a new collar ready once I was fully recovered.  I won’t deny that a part of me absolutely cried out for the reassurance of a collar about my neck, of a hand holding my leash.  I would explain to her at a more appropriate time where my loyalties were, of course, and that perhaps there would be a reward for my return to the Emperor’s service, for surely she would not be interested in a slave such as myself.

But, for the time being, she asked if I was prepared for what must come, and I assured her that I was; I would not reveal that I could likely have healed myself just yet, for I had too little information about my situation, and could not know how she would react to a kerryn possessing magic.  Coaxing the collar from my hand before placing it back upon the nightstand, she had me stretch out upon the bed and began probing my partially healed bones with the touch of an expert healer.  Then, using techniques with which I am intimately familiar, she broke them again.  The agony was like a rush of fresh air, my brain finally coming free of the stupor that had consumed it upon my awakening.  I did not scream as my partially knit bones were once again shattered, barely even grunted; what were a few broken bones in the face of the tortures I had endured in my life?  Even the intense burning sensation of the goddess’s healing, known to be unpleasant to those not of the faith, was almost pleasurable now that my senses had recovered.

I could tell I had been weakened significantly by my ordeal, for the healing left me tired and on the verge of unconsciousness.  I barely remembered Satella leaving my side, if only for a few minutes, until she was suddenly there again, a fresh tray of food in hand.  She fed me, for I was suddenly too weak to do so myself, almost as if she were tending to a sick child.  Before she left me to rest, she returned my broken collar to my hands, clasping them around its tarnished form before tucking me in and leaving the room. 

I had only begun to ponder what strange fate I had been dealt when slumber came crashing upon me.  Though I had been distraught, the feel of my collar in my hands was nonetheless a welcome comfort.  I don’t recall having suffered any more nightmares while I slept, at least this time.

#Lore24 – Entry #90 – Fantasy Month #30 – Yurisayan Religious Practices

 

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos:

I cannot say with absolute certainty, but I am convinced there are only two possibilities given Mother’s recent choice of topics.  Either she is going through an extended phase of infatuation with topics that are deeply erotic or could be considered very nearly so, or we are due to receive a delegation from the Yurisayan church at some point during the near future, and they will be practicing some of their rituals at the Great Library, with me as the volunteer.  Of course, a couple of weeks of topics is hardly a blink in the eye of someone Felaria’s age, but for myself, it seems quite long indeed.

Regardless I shall approach today’s choice as I always have.  Though often seen as quite secretive, Yurisaya’s faithful are perhaps the most open of the major religions, requiring the curious to simply inquire within their shrines and temples and to be willing to explore their own limits.  Rumors abound of forced inductions into the clergy, of painful rituals and years of physical torments, but I have yet to find concrete evidence of such things.  Likely such rumors are started by those who simply do not understand Yurisaya’s ways, and are fearful of the darker, carnal nature of her domain, especially when compared to the far gentler nature of her sister Erisaya.  Or, just as likely, they are confusing the actions of various cults with that of the Yurisayan clergy, for there have been many, many cases of evil cults practicing similar rituals against the will of captured victims.

The topic itself is broad, so I shall have to focus upon the details of such religious practices that I am most familiar with, having spoken to directly to several priests and priestesses personally, as well as some who tried to join up only to find that their faith was not as strong as they had first thought.  Firstly, as Yurisaya is the darker of the Lovely Sisters, her clergy tends to wear black as their primary color, though additional favored colors include purples and reds, and they tend toward more revealing attire, either tightly fitting, diaphanous, or both, with certain more extreme exceptions in the case of their newest acolytes and most dedicated clergy.

Specifically, I am referring to their insistence upon strict chastity, enforced by custom-fitted metal and leather chastity gear, for both males and females.  Any who are inducted into the church officially must undergo a period of enforced chastity and denial, with their training specifically meant to enhance the desires they cannot act upon.  “Teasing and edging are commonplace…constant and unrelenting, for one must be at the peak of desire and desirability while being absolutely and utterly denied to truly find the goddess’s favor,” as I have been told.  Either one will presumably be driven mad, or, in due course, they will find their faith solidified and be inducted fully into the clergy as proper priests and priestesses.  At this point, during their ordination, the gear is removed and they are finally allowed to experience a long-awaited release.  Orgies are not uncommon during such events, I’m told.  Later in one’s life as a devoted of Yurisaya, they may then seek to further enhance their dedication by undergoing greater tests, once again donning their sacred chastity gear and entering into a period of intense desires and denials, perhaps lasting through the rest of their lives, though I am told they find fulfillment through other means than simple intercourse.

And I suppose that will be an excellent segway into the more extreme and oft-considered ‘darker” of Yurisaya’s practices, those focusing on heavy bondage, strict discipline, and harsh punishments.  Keeping in mind that the faithful do all this to themselves, often quite gleefully, and that only in specific circumstances such things are visited upon those not of the faith.  Most, if not all, of Yurisaya’s rituals and common practices involve some form of bondage; the aforementioned chastity gear is locked on, of course, and the acolytes are usually made to wear some form of bondage during their daily tasks, to heighten their struggles in performing their daily tasks, add to their frustrations, and improve their focus.  The larger rituals and ceremonies tend to involve various members of the clergy in various states of restraint, or, during the public celebrations, of those of the attendees who volunteer to take part. 

Much of Yurisaya’s perceived “vileness”, as it is described by some, comes from the higher level rituals which delve into the extremely painful, basically torture, that they inflict upon themselves.  And yes, it is torture, every bit as extreme as what any Imperial torturer would inflict upon a captured enemy, though performed with absolute consent and willingness of the “victim”.  The goddess’s grace will either see those who successfully complete such rituals healed completely once finished, or possessing scars that are seen as marks of honor left by the goddess herself; even the most heavily scarred of Yurisaya’s faithful are still considered to be quite beautiful by most, their scars usually forming something akin to divinely inspired art upon their bodies.

Of course, the Yurisayan clergy do have something of a deserved reputation that instills fear into the common man, as since the Empire has grown, the clergy have been entwined with it, as have other deities, of course, but usually in a less glorious light than the faithful would perhaps like to admit.  The Emperor has historically been quite fond of the Yurisayan torture methods, and has made it a requirement to have his most talented inquisitors and torturers to spend time training with the Yurisayans, if not outright employing members of the clergy into these positions.  Individuals who employ their pain-giving arts in such ways are known as Confessors and are typically described as having the most kind and caring personalities one could imagine, which is retained during even the darkest of interrogations.  Some accounts have stated that “they’ll make you scream for days, but whether that’s pain, pleasure, or some strange mix of both, who can really say?”  It is results that the Emperor desires, and the Yurisayans are more than capable of getting those results.

I feel as though I could go on for pages about Yurisaya’s practices, but my daily duties must be tended.  As much as I’m sure Mother would enjoy testing my knowledge further, there simply aren’t enough hours in the day.

 

#Lore24 – Entry #89 – Fantasy Month #29 – Cult of the Unified Sisterhood

 

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos:

Apparently a rapidly growing movement, the Cult of the Unified Sisterhood, as it is known, seeks to unify the churches of Erisaya and Yurisaya, or at least, to promote the worship of both goddesses equally and simultaneously, rather than favoring one over the other.

Historically speaking, the goddesses and their associated worshippers have always been allied, but distinctly separate, groups.  The holy symbols associated with the goddesses of course reflect this, each one half of the same mask, the white half with the rose attributed to Erisaya, and the black half with the rose’s thorns to her sister Yurisaya.  Their practices are very similar to one another in general, though each has their own private rituals that are much more specialized and more closely linked to their specific beliefs. 

Each of the sisters emphasizes different aspects of love and passion in their beliefs and practices, Erisaya focusing more on innocent, pure love, while Yurisaya favors the more darkly erotic and carnal love.  It is this distinction between the goddesses primarily that separates them and their worshipers, and their churches have evolved in separate but often parallel ways because of it.

The Cult of the Unified Sisterhood seeks to reconcile these differences and merge the practices of both goddesses together into a singular church, supposedly with the intention to worship each goddess equally and simultaneously.  Speaking from an outside perspective, this seems logical and perhaps even natural, but thinking more deeply upon the goals of the cult, and having spoken to followers of each goddess regarding them, I can very much understand their concerns.  Is not worshipping each goddess equally and together simply trying to combine the two into a singular being?  Is this cult seeking to undermine the very foundations of each of the churches to form a new one, and while promoting equality of worship, ultimately diminishing the essence of each goddess?  Are their goals, rather than good natured, actually subversive and dangerous?  Worship of multiple deities is not uncommon, of course, but the individual usually picks one with whom their beliefs are most closely aligned as their true patron; what does worshipping both goddesses at once say about that?  What are the implications in the afterlife, when one must go to the realm of their god for their rewards?  Will they be welcomed by both, shunned by both, fought over, or will their very souls be torn in twain? 

Truly one, when taking time to think over the nature of religion and a cult of this nature, can begin to understand the reason the faithful of both Erisaya or Yurisaya approach the Cult of the Unified Sisterhood with some amount of concern and in some cases, outright hostility.  Any organized religion is built upon its faith, and to disturb the foundations of it can certainly have far-reaching consequences.  Is it possible that the two faiths will begin fighting one another over this cult?  Who can say for certain?

There are rumors of efforts to create a unified temple in the great city of Arcavarlon across the great Brineda Ocean, so the cult is not unique to the lands of the Empire, either.  Perhaps this is a schism that has been developing for some time and is just now gaining the prominence required for the average person to notice.  Or perhaps it would be more accurate to compare this situation to a volcano?  The pressure is building, there are ever increasing rumblings, but currently we cannot know if there will be a violent explosion or if it will simply calm down and go dormant once again.