« Reply #2 on: April 22, 2022, 10:22:08 AM »
BAREDMORD
[NOVA VAASA 756]
Written by Meduegna
The stygian bells of the iron cathedral cried out in an unholy symphony that was akin to the wails and cries of widows lamenting the loss of their sons. This instrument of terror was made an orchestra of doom with assistance from the pouring rain and the occasional booming crash of thunder. Though this melody of dread would not be complete without a chorus. The howling sobs of a woman bound in chains fulfilled the role. Escorted by knights clad in steel that was dark as midnight; the Kontor: Daugaard in red ceremonial robes followed closely behind a black book in hand permanently engraved with the cruel etching of a spear across a diamond shield.
"Ikke! Ikke!!!" a wretch of a woman bellowed out as she was escorted within the stone halls. The sight of her was neither warm nor welcoming; covered in earthly toned rags, her hair looked as though she had not washed it in weeks. Mud and debris stuck where it could and her flesh carried this same sort of filth. There were no shoes on this woman and her teeth were crooked an unhealthy shade of yellow.
"I am no criminal! I am innocent! Innocent you brutes of law! You bastards!" The woman wept her despair was fierce but so it was dwarfed by the iron will of vengeful knights of Bane. "Give him back!" the hysterical woman demanded again and again but her desperate shouts were cut off by the steely voice of the red clad priest.
"Silence! Silence harlot of the Saniset! Your chaos you inflict upon the good people of Bergovitsa ends this evening." Kontor Daugaard commanded in a frigid grasping tone, yet it did not silence the woman. "A curse on you! A curse on you and your family!" The crone screeched in response. The Kontor largely ignored her and the hexes she swore out so liberally.
"Astrid Bisgaard. You are given one last final opportunity to appeal to the Iron Tyrant's scrutiny. Confess to the crimes and you may yet inherit the gates of the Iron Paradise..." The Kontor declared audibly and sternly. A rapid response was met by the woman "Never! I do no wrong! You are all slaves of a dark god!" she carried on in her hysteria. It did not deter the priest, and instead he continued. "Your crimes of practicing Mytteri's foul art of magic, Necromancy, prostitution, murder, theft... and harboring a caliban infant.". "Leave him! Spare my boy!" The woman bargained so desperately in her sobs but the Kontor shouted over her "Confess!" the law priest demanded. The woman sobbed, hanging her head in defeat before releasing a defeated laughter.
The maddened cackle turned to a declaration "Hail Mytteri! The free spirit! The true nature of man! The way we were all meant to be free and unstoppable!" the woman howled a disturbing chuckle though she was met with no response. After a brief silence the Kontor spoke "I condemn thou harlot witch! I condemn thou to the grave and your coffin will be one bound in iron! Thou form will be bound in an iron coffin by impalement!" The Kontor persisted. "No please... not the maiden!" Astrid lamented aloud but was once again spoken over by the Kontor "I am not finished! It is by decree of the Biskop that you will also BURN! Thou coffin will also serve as a kiln for your wretched shape and the monster you have birthed will be drowned! Take this woman of the night away from me!" The Kontor demanded of his accompanying knights. Kicking, screaming, and pleading, the woman was dragged away into the dark bowels of the iron cathedral, her sorrowful calls the only thing that could be heard from her.
That night would end as the Kontor approached the barracks of the Gudkaedes nestled not too far from the dungeons. Despite the time of night the barracks were not silent filled with sleeping soldiers instead the clanging of metal could be heard nearby. The Kontor would approach the training room. There before the Kontor was a grisled old man and a young boy with dark hair and silver eyes.
The two of them held weapons made for training, a small sword and a flail respectively. The Kontor paused and observed for a moment. “Kaazimir, your flail is strongest when you take advantage of the chain.” the man spoke sternly but with a fatherly tone. The boy struggled backing away constantly trying to push the blade with his flail. The boy was silent, a visible look of frustration on his face and determination in his tiny eyes.
After a moment the Kontor interjected: “...Use the chain to wrap around his blade, Dvornikov. Then pull… rip it from Gudkaede Naas’ hands.”. The boy’s brows furrowed his teeth clenched as he now realized he was being watched by two masters rather than one. Again he would push the blade away with the spiked ball, but seeing an opportunity he would do as commanded and followed up. Wrapping the ball and chain around Naas’ blade and then pulling sharply. The small sword held by the gudkaede was thrown to the ground with a satisfying clang and young Kaazimir disarmed his trainer.
Naas blew air through his teeth and set his gaze to the kontor giving him a feigned half of a smile. It was clear he was actually annoyed. “I wanted him to figure it out, Kontor. A strong arm on the battlefield is useless alone. A strong mind must direct the arm.” Naas explained unhappily. “I could have done it! I Just didn’t think of it… I will next time!” Young Kaazimir insisted a unhappy frown on his face as the discontent of Gudkaedes Naas seemed to sour his very tiny victory.
The Kontor snarled at the boy, annoyed “Silence child! You know not where you succeed. A proper education comes with discipline and authority, something that can only be learned… not inexplicably construed. You do good by obeying my commands, always learn from your betters young Dvornikov.” the boy responded promptly, dropping to his knees and bowing his head “Jao, Kontor; as the tyrant commands.”the boy responded obediently. Quickly Naas spoke up “What is your command, Kontor?” Naas peered over at the old priest and it took him a moment to respond. The Kontor’s vision traded between the boy and Naas before he finally spoke. “The witch and the caliban your unit has captured refuses to recant. I think this will serve as a good lesson for your boy.” The Kontor ended his speech, dark eyes set upon the young Dvornikov. “Lessons Kontor?” The boy did not dare lift his head nor set eyes upon the Kontor but his curiosity could not be contained when it came to a lesson.
The Kontor expelled an unsettling yet gentle chuckle “Jao, lad. Your guardian Gudkaede Naas has recently captured a heathen witch and her foul infant caliban. Today, child you will become a man. You will come to do what is expected of all men and that includes: defending your home, your tradition, your people, and most importantly the Lawgiver.”. A wide and barely contained smile crawled across the young man’s face; practically ear to ear. “I’m ready, Kontor! I want to defend my home and be a loyal gudkaedes like Naas!” Kaazimir’s exclaimed just barely containing his excitement but no matter how quiet he kept one thing spoke loudly and that was the sparkle in his eyes at such an opportunity. The Kontor and Gudkades Naas both wore a reserved smile upon their faces at the boy’s enthusiasm; their eyes however were like stone and held no such spark nor light. “You are to execute both the heathen and the monster. Your time is now, young Dvornikov.” The Kontor dictated and he stepped out of the room walking down the hall again with his armed guards.
Gudkaede Naas rested a gauntleted hand upon small Kaazimir’s shoulder and ushered him forward. The boy remained silent following the priest led by his warden. They stopped before a wooden door made of aged oak. The screams and howls of an old woman could be heard in chorus with that of a crying child. The Kontor looked back at Kaazimir “Are you ready to do your duty, Kaazimir?” the old man questioned his eyes keenly placed on the boy from over his own shoulder. In mind Kaazimir was uncertain but he knew better than to not respond at all. “Jao, Kontor.” the boy spoke in reluctance. The door flew open to reveal a peculiar dungeon of sorts. In the center was a large metallic pole that served as a kiln. It was connected to a coffin shaped door that had the engraving of a Vaasan woman upon it. Surrounding the coffin shape were piles of wood dampened with oil, only a small path was made so that victims would be carried to the pole and iron maiden hybrid. Around the room were various instruments: a rack, a wheel, and a forge with branding irons all stowed away. Yet there was something much more mundane that stood out from all of the chains, and apparatuses that plagued the room. On a standard surgical table was a small fat little infant creature with a leg of a goat, swampy green skin, and two horrid tusks crying loudly. Resting next to the table was a barrel filled with water.
Close by the iron maiden stood a fully suited gudkaedes gripping the chains of Astrid. The woman's face was distraught with horror and madness. It would appear that she had been crying for some time but at the sight of Kaazimir, she laughed. “A boy!? You’re going to dirty this boy’s hands!? You are evil! You are all evil!!” The woman shouted in her hysteria. Tiny Kaazimir frowned and he backed up a little frightened by the woman but he was stopped by a familiar metal glove. “Kaazimir. One day the people of Nova Vaasa are going to depend upon you to burn the witches and slay the beasts of the realm. It’s okay son, my first time was hard too.” Gudkaedes Naas kneeled down and spoke to the boy in a quiet tone as fatherly as he could. Naas’s eyes were hard as he remembered his own time but Kaazimir still hesitated. “...You can’t wait in front of the Kontor, you need to do this now.” Naas stated firmly. A look of fear came over the boy's face and he shuffled towards the knight and the shackled woman.
The woman laughed and taunted the boy “Who is this? Why do you bring a child to do a mans work?” The crone laughed like a witch would. The knight holding onto the chain peered down at Kaazimir waiting for some initiative. “Take her chains, Kaazimir. Cast her into the maiden. I know you have it in you to fulfill the role of Gudkaedes. Be the Iron Champion Gudkaedes Naas tells you about all the time.” The Kontor spoke up with some encouragement; but irritation was also clearly heard. It didn’t take long after hearing the words ‘Iron Champion’ did Kaazimir reach out and take the chains. The boy dragged the battered and beaten woman to the door of the iron maiden. Small hands opened the iron doors to reveal spikes on the other end of the door. The Spikes are placed roughly where the victims shoulders and knees would be. Designed to hold the victim in place by impalement but not kill. Determined and unwilling to allow the Kontor to wait any further; the young boy threw the woman into the maiden and slammed the door shut impaling her legs and shoulders. The woman's howls of pain echoed inside the metal maiden and blood seeped through the bottom of the trap door. Stressed, but knew it was necessary Kaazimir locked the door and ran away. “They will make you one of them!” The old woman cried out “You will become one of these bastards who have the nerve to call themselves ‘knights’! They are not protectors, they are monsters!” Astrid barked out with a weakened gasp.
The Kontor caught the once squire Kaazimir and turned him around to once again face the iron maiden. “You are not done, Kaazimir. This is only half a task…” The Kontor chided Kaazimir and with a snarl he grabbed a torch from the wall and placed it in the boy's hand roughly. Kaazimir gripped the torch and then looked to the Kontor, straightening out his features as best he could. “Light the wood, Kaazimir. Today you are the Lawgiver’s most prized servant… you will send his most hated enemies to the Hell of Slaves! There she will toil endlessly, and labor eternally! And you my boy? You will be welcomed into the gates of the Iron Paradise with open arms! Go on, child! Judge the witch!” The Kontor demanded giving Kaazimir a nudge forward. The boy with renewed determination stepped forward, torch in hand refusing to let the noise of crying from both the infant and the woman impede him. Kaazimir set the torch to an oily piece of wood and before much longer the entire ring of lumber was set ablaze. It illuminated the room brightly with an orange glow. The flames licked and slathered the iron maiden kiln. No more cursing, no more words of anger, nor hate. Only screams escaped from the Iron Maiden. The old Kontor smiled maniacally, approaching the boy slowly and resting an elderly hand upon his shoulder. “Well done young squire! You have conducted His work!” Suppressed horror smeared Kaazimir’s face but he stood brave and watched the raging fire.
“Gudkaedes Dvornikov isn’t done, Kontor.” Naas spoke up, approaching Kaazimir. The boy’s guardian took him by the shoulder and escorted him now to the table with the infant. “Come, you have judged the heathen, and now you must slay the beast.” Naas had spoken with even further encouragement. Kaazimir approached the table where he came face to face with this hideous and mutated creature. It cried out in hunger, gnashing tusks and teeth as it flailed its tiny arms and legs about. Kaazimir stared down at the monster and a look of discomfort was visible on his face. Often he was told of doing this, and even spoke of it, but when one is just moments away from actually doing the deed; things become different. “Stop waiting boy! This one is a monster you know what you must do!” The Kontor raised his voice and scrutinized the boy; he was getting very angry at Kaazimir’s reluctance.
With his small and shaky hands, Kaazimir gripped the calibans neck and lifted it off of the table. The boy stared at the crying beast, his eyes became like glass and again he hesitated. “Kaazimir!” Naas scolded “Do it! Now! Become a Gudkaedes, a step towards becoming an Iron Champion!”. Youthful Kaazimir snapped out of his gaze and did what he needed to do. The boy moved over to the barrel filled with water and with fear he acted with haste not daring to show reluctance again.
Kaazimir submerged his gripping hands into the water. The water thrashed about in small but erratic waves of heavy water that lapped onto Kaazimir’s arms and face. The boy’s eyes burned as he held his hands under the water. Those silver eyes ached as he failed to hold back tears. At first he could hear the sounds of his guardians motivating him with promises of grandeur and the satisfaction of doing God’s work. At some point however, all he could hear was the crashing of water on wood. The water kept fighting back and then in seemingly almost an instant the torrent of water ended altogether. Kaazimir did not let go right away; he held his hands in place and contemplated the work he had done. Finally the world around him came back around to him and he relaxed his grip.
“Are you crying boy? What’s this on your face?” The Kontor asked with disgust in his voice. “No!” Kaazimir answered quickly. “No not at all… the freak got water in my eye that’s all!” the boy answered back insistently. Kaazimir forced a smile but there was no light in his eyes. “Congratulations, Gudkaede Dvornikov… you’re going to make a fine soldier. Go now, boy. Retire to your quarters and be prepared for training tomorrow.” Naas spoke sternly but proudly gave Kaazimir a firm pat on the shoulder. The Kontor nodded in approval as Kaazimir took leave. When he was out of eye sight he raced down the hall and back to his room. The now Gudkaedes settled into his bunk and stared at the wooden wall next to his bed in the dark. The echoes of screams and crashing waves raced around in his mind for a time before finally he whispered speaking to himself. “I did right. That was a monster and a witch.” the boy’s dull silver eyes continued to stare at the wall “...They feel pain as a means of expelling sin… just like the Kontor’s sermon… jao. I did good.”. The wicked bells of the Cathedral were silent and mournful that evening. Two children have died; smothered by the dark and suffocating waters around them. An unrelenting torrent of tyranny. Another black day in Nova Vaasa.
« Last Edit: April 22, 2022, 10:23:54 AM by The Blasphemer »
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