Alistaria
Posted: Tue May 19, 2009 11:32 pm
The thunderous clatter of many hooves reaches the ears of the slave sitting quietly in the tower above her master’s chambers. She can hear faintly the jubilant cheers of the victorious soldiers returning from battle. Letting out the nervous breath she did not realize she was holding, she gets up and changes into the thin robes her master prefers; knowing his desire for her after such a rousing victory. She listens, with dread, as the celebration gets underway; this is her signal to make an appearance in the great hall. The girl goes to the mirror and arranges her long red hair around her shoulders in soft waves, her light blue eyes stare back at her with intense fear of what she knows is to come. The thin folds of her robes do nothing to cover her slight body and she sighs as she tries to cover the soft curve of her small breasts. Biting her lip, she turns away from the mirror in frustration and breathes deeply to steady herself. She composes herself and leaves the tower, slowly making her way down to the celebration below.
When she enters the hall, she blinks at the vision before her. Long and crude tables were set up in rows and covered with roasted pigs, piles of freshly baked bread, and mounds of fruit on pewter trays. The benches are straining underneath the weight of the many soldiers who are partaking in the good food and free flowing ale. The light in the hall is dim with long shadows stretching eerily across the dirty floor. Mangy dogs hang back in the corners, waiting for scraps and bones to be thrown to the floor. Her ears are overwhelmed with the dissonance of obnoxious singing and laughing at their enemies who had fallen so easily beneath their great might. To the left of the tables, there is a dais with a plush chair at the head of the room. Upon that chair sits a massive half orc lord named Argrand. He looks over the festivities with his small piggy eyes and a satisfied grin, his tusks nearly reaching the bottom of his bulbous nose. His scrutinizing gaze settles on the slave, his grin turning cold and cruel.
“Ah! My Alistaria! It is so good of you to grace us with your presence,” the half orc lord yells as his slave enters the hall.
Alistaria winces at his brash voice but recovers quickly, forcing a shy smile to her lips. “You honor me, My Lord.” She curtsies low before him in such a way that he can fully appreciate her cleavage.
Lord Argrand lifts her chin with his finger and looks into her face with a cruel sneer before whispering harshly, “It is such a shame your face is not as lovely as your body. Your performance tonight had better be up to my expectations. I have little patience for mediocrity.” He slaps her across the face, sending her sprawling across the dais drawing jeers and laughter from the soldiers in the room.
She gets up and gingerly touches her tongue to the corner of her mouth, tasting the blood there. She gives another deep curtsey before going to her master’s chambers to await his return. All too soon, he drunkenly staggers into the chambers and sees her cowering in a dark corner. An evil grin crosses his face as he approaches her. He grabs her hair roughly and pulls her to her feet. The occupants of the keep learned long ago never to question the screaming and crying that issues from their lord’s chambers. This night is no different. The girl’s suffering lasts long into the night until it suddenly stops suddenly and all is quiet.
_______________
“Ali! Ali, wake up!” Every inch of her body screams in pain as she is shaken awake by the old nurse. “Ali! You must get up and get out of here!”
“Mmmph…wha?” The slave opens her eyes groggily and winces as the bruises and cuts covering her body protest against her getting up. “Lemme sleep, Orag.”
“Lord Argrand has been killed and the Shadow Thieves are blaming you. Ali, they mean to turn you over to the Red Wizards! You need to get away!”
Alistaria jerks herself awake and looks at the nurse in disbelief. “Lord Argand? Dead? But how?”
“His throat was cut. You have to leave…NOW!” Orag hands the girl a bag of food and wraps a cloak around her thin shoulders. “Go out through the gardens and then head north. Stay off the roads as they will be full of guards. There is a monastery ten miles from here; the monks there will give you sanctuary. The back stairs will be clear as long as you leave right away.”
Without a second thought, Alistaria grabs the bag and painfully makes her way to the back stairs, avoiding the cacophony of the guards and scared staff. She keeps to the shadows as she creeps along the garden wall and out the small gate at the corner of the keep. The forest along the protective walls is perfect cover for a fleeing slave. Once she reaches its edge, she looks back at the only home she has ever known…the only life she has ever known. She looks at the crossed swords tattooed on the inside of her wrist, signifying her enslavement to the Lord Argand of Thay. She speaks to herself softly, “I have a chance…I have to take it! I can’t ever go back to this life!” Turning her back on the keep, she runs away and never looks back again.
_______________
A monk at the Monastary of Illmater opens the doors to find a bloody and dirty little girl huddled in front of the door. She looks up at him and whispers hoarsely, “sanctuary…” before passing out. The monk gently picks her up and carries her inside. Setting her on a soft bed of straw, he quickly sets out to find a healer. The strange girl remains unconscious for two days before finally waking up in the dark room. She sits up quickly, afraid of the unfamiliar surroundings and instantly regrets the sudden movement. She lays back down with a soft moan and closes her eyes against the pain which is now pounding in her head. She opens her eyes again to see a young woman with a kind face looking down at her. “Who…where…”
The woman puts her hand on Alistaria’s head with a soft smile. “I am Marnie and you are safe here.”
Alistaria looks up at the woman and relaxes slightly, “Did I make it to the monastery? I remember seeing a building but…”
Marnie nods, “Yes, we are the church of Illmater. We will give you sanctuary for as long as possible. You must rest now; you were badly injured. We will speak again soon.”
Alistaria spent many months with the monks, learning and praying to the god whose followers had saved her. She felt a happiness and peace that she had never before felt in her short life. She learned to keep her soul calm and peaceful, how to defend herself only using her hands and feet as weapons, how to tend to the sick and injured, as well as many other skills she never realized was possible.
The peaceful calm that surrounded the monastery was broken late one night when it was attacked by a group of Red Wizards. Marnie runs into Alistaria’s room and finds her dressed and preparing to run out the door. “Alistaria! They are after you; you need to get out of here!”
“No! I cannot let leave all of you to fight for me. I am going out to help.” She tries to move past Marnie but finds herself wrapped up in the woman’s arms.
“You do not yet have the skill to face the wizards; they will kill you…or worse.” Marnie holds Alistaria in a tight hug. “I cannot let you go out there.”
“Then I will turn myself in and face my fate at their hands. This is not your fight!”
Marnie sighs softly and shakes her head as she moves around the room, packing Alistaria’s meager belongings into a small bag. “I will not argue with you about this. We have already made our decision and that is to cover your escape.” She raises her hand for silence as Alistaria opens her mouth to speak, “no argument. Go through the kitchen and out the back door. We have taught you stealth. Use it.”
Tears fill Alistaria’s eyes as she nods and does as she is told. She is able to get away from the monastery without looking back as the sounds of magic and fighting assail her senses. For nearly a year, she runs. Many times, she feels eyes upon her and wonders if she is being tracked. Finally, she makes her way to Baldur’s Gate late one night. She explores the city and sees a man standing at the gates. “Excuse me, Sir; could you tell me if there is a temple nearby?” The man nods and motions for her to follow him. He leads her through the confusing streets and then stops in front of a small building with a plaque in front of it with two hands bound together with red rope. Alistaria smiles in relief and turns to the man, but he has disappeared. She bows her head in reverence before entering the temple with one thought in her mind, “I can finally stop running.”
When she enters the hall, she blinks at the vision before her. Long and crude tables were set up in rows and covered with roasted pigs, piles of freshly baked bread, and mounds of fruit on pewter trays. The benches are straining underneath the weight of the many soldiers who are partaking in the good food and free flowing ale. The light in the hall is dim with long shadows stretching eerily across the dirty floor. Mangy dogs hang back in the corners, waiting for scraps and bones to be thrown to the floor. Her ears are overwhelmed with the dissonance of obnoxious singing and laughing at their enemies who had fallen so easily beneath their great might. To the left of the tables, there is a dais with a plush chair at the head of the room. Upon that chair sits a massive half orc lord named Argrand. He looks over the festivities with his small piggy eyes and a satisfied grin, his tusks nearly reaching the bottom of his bulbous nose. His scrutinizing gaze settles on the slave, his grin turning cold and cruel.
“Ah! My Alistaria! It is so good of you to grace us with your presence,” the half orc lord yells as his slave enters the hall.
Alistaria winces at his brash voice but recovers quickly, forcing a shy smile to her lips. “You honor me, My Lord.” She curtsies low before him in such a way that he can fully appreciate her cleavage.
Lord Argrand lifts her chin with his finger and looks into her face with a cruel sneer before whispering harshly, “It is such a shame your face is not as lovely as your body. Your performance tonight had better be up to my expectations. I have little patience for mediocrity.” He slaps her across the face, sending her sprawling across the dais drawing jeers and laughter from the soldiers in the room.
She gets up and gingerly touches her tongue to the corner of her mouth, tasting the blood there. She gives another deep curtsey before going to her master’s chambers to await his return. All too soon, he drunkenly staggers into the chambers and sees her cowering in a dark corner. An evil grin crosses his face as he approaches her. He grabs her hair roughly and pulls her to her feet. The occupants of the keep learned long ago never to question the screaming and crying that issues from their lord’s chambers. This night is no different. The girl’s suffering lasts long into the night until it suddenly stops suddenly and all is quiet.
_______________
“Ali! Ali, wake up!” Every inch of her body screams in pain as she is shaken awake by the old nurse. “Ali! You must get up and get out of here!”
“Mmmph…wha?” The slave opens her eyes groggily and winces as the bruises and cuts covering her body protest against her getting up. “Lemme sleep, Orag.”
“Lord Argrand has been killed and the Shadow Thieves are blaming you. Ali, they mean to turn you over to the Red Wizards! You need to get away!”
Alistaria jerks herself awake and looks at the nurse in disbelief. “Lord Argand? Dead? But how?”
“His throat was cut. You have to leave…NOW!” Orag hands the girl a bag of food and wraps a cloak around her thin shoulders. “Go out through the gardens and then head north. Stay off the roads as they will be full of guards. There is a monastery ten miles from here; the monks there will give you sanctuary. The back stairs will be clear as long as you leave right away.”
Without a second thought, Alistaria grabs the bag and painfully makes her way to the back stairs, avoiding the cacophony of the guards and scared staff. She keeps to the shadows as she creeps along the garden wall and out the small gate at the corner of the keep. The forest along the protective walls is perfect cover for a fleeing slave. Once she reaches its edge, she looks back at the only home she has ever known…the only life she has ever known. She looks at the crossed swords tattooed on the inside of her wrist, signifying her enslavement to the Lord Argand of Thay. She speaks to herself softly, “I have a chance…I have to take it! I can’t ever go back to this life!” Turning her back on the keep, she runs away and never looks back again.
_______________
A monk at the Monastary of Illmater opens the doors to find a bloody and dirty little girl huddled in front of the door. She looks up at him and whispers hoarsely, “sanctuary…” before passing out. The monk gently picks her up and carries her inside. Setting her on a soft bed of straw, he quickly sets out to find a healer. The strange girl remains unconscious for two days before finally waking up in the dark room. She sits up quickly, afraid of the unfamiliar surroundings and instantly regrets the sudden movement. She lays back down with a soft moan and closes her eyes against the pain which is now pounding in her head. She opens her eyes again to see a young woman with a kind face looking down at her. “Who…where…”
The woman puts her hand on Alistaria’s head with a soft smile. “I am Marnie and you are safe here.”
Alistaria looks up at the woman and relaxes slightly, “Did I make it to the monastery? I remember seeing a building but…”
Marnie nods, “Yes, we are the church of Illmater. We will give you sanctuary for as long as possible. You must rest now; you were badly injured. We will speak again soon.”
Alistaria spent many months with the monks, learning and praying to the god whose followers had saved her. She felt a happiness and peace that she had never before felt in her short life. She learned to keep her soul calm and peaceful, how to defend herself only using her hands and feet as weapons, how to tend to the sick and injured, as well as many other skills she never realized was possible.
The peaceful calm that surrounded the monastery was broken late one night when it was attacked by a group of Red Wizards. Marnie runs into Alistaria’s room and finds her dressed and preparing to run out the door. “Alistaria! They are after you; you need to get out of here!”
“No! I cannot let leave all of you to fight for me. I am going out to help.” She tries to move past Marnie but finds herself wrapped up in the woman’s arms.
“You do not yet have the skill to face the wizards; they will kill you…or worse.” Marnie holds Alistaria in a tight hug. “I cannot let you go out there.”
“Then I will turn myself in and face my fate at their hands. This is not your fight!”
Marnie sighs softly and shakes her head as she moves around the room, packing Alistaria’s meager belongings into a small bag. “I will not argue with you about this. We have already made our decision and that is to cover your escape.” She raises her hand for silence as Alistaria opens her mouth to speak, “no argument. Go through the kitchen and out the back door. We have taught you stealth. Use it.”
Tears fill Alistaria’s eyes as she nods and does as she is told. She is able to get away from the monastery without looking back as the sounds of magic and fighting assail her senses. For nearly a year, she runs. Many times, she feels eyes upon her and wonders if she is being tracked. Finally, she makes her way to Baldur’s Gate late one night. She explores the city and sees a man standing at the gates. “Excuse me, Sir; could you tell me if there is a temple nearby?” The man nods and motions for her to follow him. He leads her through the confusing streets and then stops in front of a small building with a plaque in front of it with two hands bound together with red rope. Alistaria smiles in relief and turns to the man, but he has disappeared. She bows her head in reverence before entering the temple with one thought in her mind, “I can finally stop running.”