Entering her room on the upper floor of the inn Kierisen locks the door and starts to unbuckle her leathers. No one had moved to raise the man in the hat, so recklessly killed by the lack of discipline among the arcanists, so Kiera had done it. A moment of charity, or mercy perhaps, but one she felt was good to maintain her Maiden's mystery. The blessing does not come without a price however, and she must pay for the gift.
She lets the leathers fall to the floor and moves to a low table against the wall. On it rests an ornate wooden box, and before it, a small kneeling plank studded with tiny metal rivets. She rests her bare knees on the plank, feeling the small, hard domes of metal pressing into her skin and the bones of her knees. She closes her eyes and shivers in anticipation, like someone about to be kissed by a lover. Opening the box she runs her fingers over the lock of pink hair, before moving to lift the ivory handled scourge that rests upon the velvet cushion.
"Thank you for your blessings my Maiden, your gifts make me strong," her arm snaps forward and then back, throwing the lashes of the scourge over her shoulder. The hooked barbs catch and drag on her skin, leaving tiny scratches where they touch.
"Your mercy today shows that your love makes us strong," she repeats the motion over the other shoulder, drawing in a hiss of breath at the scourge's savage contact.
"I offer all of myself for your gifts, and pay the price for my mercy shown today," she switches to the other shoulder, crying out in terrible ecstasy.
She repeats the motion several more times, reciting a mantra of love and prayer to Loviatar. By the end she is collapsed against the table, breathing hard and covered in sweat, as one that has spent hours in bed with a voracious lover. When she has recovered from her blissful torment she cleans the scourge and reverently replaces it in the box. She runs a hot bath and soaks until the water cools, before crawling beneath the sheets and falling asleep.
Path to Enlightenment
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After writing for a time at the desk in her room Kiera moves over to to the small alter she has set up. She opens a black box and pulls a leather strap from it, studded with small metal spikes on one side. She wraps the leather around her bare thigh, the spikes touching flesh, and cinches the buckle tight. The pale woman repeats the process with a second strap, on the opposite thigh. Finally she reaches down and retrieves two chains ending in hooks that move through pulleys to rings in the ceiling. She hooks those chains to rings in her back. Once secured she leans forward, putting all of her weight against the chains.
"My Maiden, you have blessed me more than I could dream today," she says after a gasp of breath.
"Lily, my most precious and best student has returned, and with her one of her pets who wishes to experience the same training," Kiera groans and pulls the straps in her leg one notch tighter.
"I have not seen my Lily, and she will decide if Silk will train with me, or with herself again. I cannot thank you enough, and for the possibility of another student...my body is yours to torment for this blessing," Kiera leans fully against the chains and bites her lip at the pain.
"Your love strengthens me My Lady. Your torment makes me whole. My body is the canvas that speaks of your divine power."
"My Maiden, you have blessed me more than I could dream today," she says after a gasp of breath.
"Lily, my most precious and best student has returned, and with her one of her pets who wishes to experience the same training," Kiera groans and pulls the straps in her leg one notch tighter.
"I have not seen my Lily, and she will decide if Silk will train with me, or with herself again. I cannot thank you enough, and for the possibility of another student...my body is yours to torment for this blessing," Kiera leans fully against the chains and bites her lip at the pain.
"Your love strengthens me My Lady. Your torment makes me whole. My body is the canvas that speaks of your divine power."
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After a long time in the bazaar, trying to wrap her mind around the meeting with her protege Kiera makes her way to the prison. Idle conversation and debate were a distraction, but always in the back of her mind was the knowledge that her Maiden had done for her what she could not do for herself.
Kiera stalks the prison, letting the click of her heels, and the tap...tap of the scourge handle on the bars echo through the halls and cells. Even the smell of fear and despair are not enough to take her mind off of her realization.
Finally she returns to her room, taking the black book from her pack, and setting down to write.
Kiera stalks the prison, letting the click of her heels, and the tap...tap of the scourge handle on the bars echo through the halls and cells. Even the smell of fear and despair are not enough to take her mind off of her realization.
Finally she returns to her room, taking the black book from her pack, and setting down to write.
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An hour after the beautiful fae left her suite, Kiera has laid the scourge across her back several times already.
"I am trying to find one to heighten your power but this place is difficult," she grimaces as the pain intensified from another strike.
"It's not excuse. I will work harder to find a suitable offering."
She strikes herself several more times.
"This price I pay for the unmarred pleasure last night. Your divine mercy must be repaid, and I gladly give it my Maiden."
After the session Kiera cleans her wounds, straps on her leathers, and heads into the Cage again to find what she seeks.
"I am trying to find one to heighten your power but this place is difficult," she grimaces as the pain intensified from another strike.
"It's not excuse. I will work harder to find a suitable offering."
She strikes herself several more times.
"This price I pay for the unmarred pleasure last night. Your divine mercy must be repaid, and I gladly give it my Maiden."
After the session Kiera cleans her wounds, straps on her leathers, and heads into the Cage again to find what she seeks.
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Kiera entered her room under a cloud of mixed emotions over the events of the last several hours. The experience in the prison, and later the mortuary, had been the most blessed and terrible of experiences. Then the sensation of her new hands, the exquisite pain still in her arms, and the feeling of becoming something more were heady feelings. Following the strange activity in the bazaar, and reporting the man, Kiera found herself on edge, anxious, and in need of prayer. She quickly shed her leathers and kneeled upon the studded prayer block, letting the metal rivets dig into her knees.
"Mistress, I have given my own flesh and bone to better serve you, and culled pain and suffering from another to further your glory," the priestess raises her new hands, flexing the fingers to extend the sharp nails further.
"Help me bring suffering to my enemies, and those who deserve it," Kiera rakes her new claws across her chest, not deeply but enough to draw blood. "Help me guide those victims to seek your wisdom, and make them stronger."
After an hour of prayer, and suffering on the block Kiera cleans her wounds and her nails, and settles down at her dressing table with a metal file and blood-red enamel. She proceeds to file the nails to a razor's edge, then paint them with the crimson finish.
"Mistress, I have given my own flesh and bone to better serve you, and culled pain and suffering from another to further your glory," the priestess raises her new hands, flexing the fingers to extend the sharp nails further.
"Help me bring suffering to my enemies, and those who deserve it," Kiera rakes her new claws across her chest, not deeply but enough to draw blood. "Help me guide those victims to seek your wisdom, and make them stronger."
After an hour of prayer, and suffering on the block Kiera cleans her wounds and her nails, and settles down at her dressing table with a metal file and blood-red enamel. She proceeds to file the nails to a razor's edge, then paint them with the crimson finish.
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Kiera lay awake, listening to the steady breathing of the tiefling in bed next to her. The day had been strange and troubling. Her plans thrown completely awry when faced with reality. She did not expect to enjoy the paladin's company as much as she did, and all thoughts of seduction had flown away and replaced by something else. She hugged the covers to herself, looking across the room at the kneeling block, and the wooden box containing her scourge. She hadn't prayed in days, and knew she should. She was growing weak, her head filling with thoughts a pain maiden should not think.
For a time she considered getting up and going to the block, despite the sleeping friend in her bed. Better to devote herself to the Maiden's care and wake her friend, than descend into the weakness she felt coming over her. The rings that marked her as the Maiden's own brushed against the blankets, a constant reminder of her place in the world, but she stayed in the bed.
"Do you hear me Mistress," Kiera asked softly, knowing that her patron could not hear here where she was. She had kept her faith in Sigil, knowing that Loviatar could not come to her, but She had punished Kiera before. Took her love, taught her that lesson.
It was a long night, lying in the dark and listening to her friend sleep peacefully.
For a time she considered getting up and going to the block, despite the sleeping friend in her bed. Better to devote herself to the Maiden's care and wake her friend, than descend into the weakness she felt coming over her. The rings that marked her as the Maiden's own brushed against the blankets, a constant reminder of her place in the world, but she stayed in the bed.
"Do you hear me Mistress," Kiera asked softly, knowing that her patron could not hear here where she was. She had kept her faith in Sigil, knowing that Loviatar could not come to her, but She had punished Kiera before. Took her love, taught her that lesson.
It was a long night, lying in the dark and listening to her friend sleep peacefully.
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Kiera fully intended to head into the prison to sort through some paperwork. Her new position didn't give her much more responsibility, but enough that she wasn't stuck wandering the rows of cells for fun. When she left her friends that was her plan anyway, but as she walked through the Lady's Ward. The nature of that word had her mind drifting as she walked right past the prison.
She realized the night before that she had one friend, and seemed to have more after Alsandra's unexpected caring gesture. Kiera wasn't used to being touched like that and it jarred her entire being, but she had accepted it and returned it. Something she would not have considered even a few weeks ago. Before she knew it she was standing before the portal to the Beastlands. She looked up at the glowing doorway and stepped through.
Taking off her heels her feet sink into the soft, mossy ground under the dark sky. The glowing plants light her pale, scarred skin with shades of blue and green. She wanders for a time, with no real direction.
"What are you doing, she'll never have someone like you," Kiera says softly to herself as she walks. "You're a monster..."
The pain maiden stumbles on a root, tearing a gash in her foot and falling to the ground. The pain leaves her uncertain, confused for a moment. She's used to pain, why does this one hurt differently?
"Weak...you've grown WEAK!" Her nails dig into her hand, drawing blood. The pain isn't enough to clear the woman's image out of her mind.
"Why couldn't she judge me like the others? Why was she so nice...," Kiera asks the darkness softly. She presses her bleeding hands against her face. She doesn't cry, she never cries, not since her Mistress rescued her from that tavern so many years ago.
Lowering her hands she kneels, staring at nothing and seeing nothing for several hours. She tries to concentrate on the pain but nothing's there. She tries to clear her mind but always the dark hair and skin, and that smile flashes through. Kiera finally gives up in anger at her lack of control, and leaves the beastlands. She binds her wound quickly and heads into the prison to throw herself into work. Hoping maybe there's an unfortunate soul in need of questioning, or punishment for some vile crime.
She realized the night before that she had one friend, and seemed to have more after Alsandra's unexpected caring gesture. Kiera wasn't used to being touched like that and it jarred her entire being, but she had accepted it and returned it. Something she would not have considered even a few weeks ago. Before she knew it she was standing before the portal to the Beastlands. She looked up at the glowing doorway and stepped through.
Taking off her heels her feet sink into the soft, mossy ground under the dark sky. The glowing plants light her pale, scarred skin with shades of blue and green. She wanders for a time, with no real direction.
"What are you doing, she'll never have someone like you," Kiera says softly to herself as she walks. "You're a monster..."
The pain maiden stumbles on a root, tearing a gash in her foot and falling to the ground. The pain leaves her uncertain, confused for a moment. She's used to pain, why does this one hurt differently?
"Weak...you've grown WEAK!" Her nails dig into her hand, drawing blood. The pain isn't enough to clear the woman's image out of her mind.
"Why couldn't she judge me like the others? Why was she so nice...," Kiera asks the darkness softly. She presses her bleeding hands against her face. She doesn't cry, she never cries, not since her Mistress rescued her from that tavern so many years ago.
Lowering her hands she kneels, staring at nothing and seeing nothing for several hours. She tries to concentrate on the pain but nothing's there. She tries to clear her mind but always the dark hair and skin, and that smile flashes through. Kiera finally gives up in anger at her lack of control, and leaves the beastlands. She binds her wound quickly and heads into the prison to throw herself into work. Hoping maybe there's an unfortunate soul in need of questioning, or punishment for some vile crime.
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Taking a break from the investigation, after planning her visits to the other sites in the file, Kiera empties the purchases from the bazaar onto the large table in the dining area of her room. She separates the stones and beads, feathers and leather cord, and takes a platinum rod (found useless junk actually in inventory) from her pack. She sets about adorning the rod with the bits and pieces she bought from Minerva.
After two hours of work, and some frustration with her nails, until she learned to use the cutting edges, she looks at the finished product. The wand is the most beautiful thing she had ever made herself. The polished platinum rod is wrapped in black leather cord for the first third, making a comfortable grip. Along the length of the wand she has tied beads and feathers, along with the stones, in such a way that when moved they clink musically against the metal rod, but not so long that they get in the way. At the end of the wand she has secured a square-cut emerald as the focus of the item's magic that isn't yet imbued in the wand. She looks over the thing, stunned in a way, that she could create something like it.
She takes the inert wand and carefully places it in a small box that is lined with black velvet. She's still unsure about the next step, but hopes she can enchant it herself. Packing up her tools and cleaning up the table she finally leaves her room again, headed for the bazaar to secure a scroll of Keen.
After two hours of work, and some frustration with her nails, until she learned to use the cutting edges, she looks at the finished product. The wand is the most beautiful thing she had ever made herself. The polished platinum rod is wrapped in black leather cord for the first third, making a comfortable grip. Along the length of the wand she has tied beads and feathers, along with the stones, in such a way that when moved they clink musically against the metal rod, but not so long that they get in the way. At the end of the wand she has secured a square-cut emerald as the focus of the item's magic that isn't yet imbued in the wand. She looks over the thing, stunned in a way, that she could create something like it.
She takes the inert wand and carefully places it in a small box that is lined with black velvet. She's still unsure about the next step, but hopes she can enchant it herself. Packing up her tools and cleaning up the table she finally leaves her room again, headed for the bazaar to secure a scroll of Keen.
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((caution, this post may be slightly PG-13. You have been warned))
After her long talk with Chari, in Khazeet's, Kiera goes to the Bottle and Jug, to get roaring drunk somewhere away from everyone. It was all she could do to not break down in front of the paladin and she didn't want to risk an emotional outburst in front of anyone that had come to call her friend. Friend, such a cruel and beautiful word, she though, downing the fifth glass of whiskey.
Two hours later she stumbled to her room in the Spirit, pushing the door open roughly and making her way to the bed. Armored plates hit the floor as she walked, neither caring, nor knowing where they landed. The scattered pieces of her defense in stark contrast to the near obsessive neatness of the rest of her quarters, and symbolic of the self-destruction of her emotional defenses she had committed just a couple hours earlier. She had never opened up to another soul like she did to Chari and the pain had been something she had never been exposed to.
Once unclothed she sat on the bed and looked across to her prayer block and the ornate box lying atop the altar. She reaches across and took the box, opening it to touch the wicked scourge within. She moves aside the pink lock of hair and takes up the tool of her faith, looking toward the prayer block. Every fiber of her being pushes her to want to kneel on that studded block, and inflict the punishment she knows she deserves. She had dared to think she could find love again, and the one that fate had put before her was beyond her reach...like rushing wave of sound her ears roared at the sudden realization.
"You bitch...You CURSED BITCH!" Kiera throws the scourge across the small room to strike the door.
"Another of your hellish tests!" Kiera screams, leaping at the alter and tossing it over on the floor, feeling the tools and implements of her faith cut into her legs as they fall toward the floor.
She ignores the pain and blood, throws the tools at the walls, some sticking and others clattering to the floor. In her drunken state her rage soon burns off and she finds herself gasping, keeling on the floor of her room, cut and bleeding from countless small wounds. With a last sigh she passes out on the pillows before the fireplace, losing herself to blessed unconsciousness.
After her long talk with Chari, in Khazeet's, Kiera goes to the Bottle and Jug, to get roaring drunk somewhere away from everyone. It was all she could do to not break down in front of the paladin and she didn't want to risk an emotional outburst in front of anyone that had come to call her friend. Friend, such a cruel and beautiful word, she though, downing the fifth glass of whiskey.
Two hours later she stumbled to her room in the Spirit, pushing the door open roughly and making her way to the bed. Armored plates hit the floor as she walked, neither caring, nor knowing where they landed. The scattered pieces of her defense in stark contrast to the near obsessive neatness of the rest of her quarters, and symbolic of the self-destruction of her emotional defenses she had committed just a couple hours earlier. She had never opened up to another soul like she did to Chari and the pain had been something she had never been exposed to.
Once unclothed she sat on the bed and looked across to her prayer block and the ornate box lying atop the altar. She reaches across and took the box, opening it to touch the wicked scourge within. She moves aside the pink lock of hair and takes up the tool of her faith, looking toward the prayer block. Every fiber of her being pushes her to want to kneel on that studded block, and inflict the punishment she knows she deserves. She had dared to think she could find love again, and the one that fate had put before her was beyond her reach...like rushing wave of sound her ears roared at the sudden realization.
"You bitch...You CURSED BITCH!" Kiera throws the scourge across the small room to strike the door.
"Another of your hellish tests!" Kiera screams, leaping at the alter and tossing it over on the floor, feeling the tools and implements of her faith cut into her legs as they fall toward the floor.
She ignores the pain and blood, throws the tools at the walls, some sticking and others clattering to the floor. In her drunken state her rage soon burns off and she finds herself gasping, keeling on the floor of her room, cut and bleeding from countless small wounds. With a last sigh she passes out on the pillows before the fireplace, losing herself to blessed unconsciousness.
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Kiera returns to her suite after the strange day. With Kala's comments on Kiera's change, and offer to help with the orphanage, and another long conversation with Chari the scarred woman's mind was in chaos. She needed focus, at least until the investigation is over. Then...she didn't finish the thought.
Being in the Cage meant that her, and her Patron were far apart. She hoped that her Mistress could not read her heart yet, and see what was going on in her mind. She needed her blessings just a little longer. Kiera cleared her mind and carefully shed her armor, making sure to put the pieces away in a more orderly fashion than the night before.
Kneeling upon the prayer block, and settling her knees on the studded wood she winces slightly and opens the wooden box on the alter. She sets aside the pink lock of hair, but hesitates in putting it down as an unfamiliar feeling washes over her. Guilt, she wonders? Shaking her head again, trying to focus, she sets it aside and takes up the wickedly barbed and hooked scourge.
The sounds of the lash echo in her head for an hour as she prays, giving her body to her Mistress in abject supplication. She tries to ignore the fact that the pain doesn't feel quite as sweet at it did before, the agony no longer entwined with ecstasy. Was it her changing, or was Loviatar beginning to pull away?
After her prayers were complete she weakly cleaned and bound the wounds and climbed into her bed, lying on her stomach to keep from resting on the torn flesh. Like the last few nights she dreams, and they are not pleasant. Where once she slept with a clear consciousness and dreamed of the things that made her happy, now she saw flashes of people, their faces contorted in pain and suffering, and it did not please her. She saw herself causing their agony and it filled her with regret, and fear.
Every time she awoke in her fitful sleep she would take a drink from her flask, hoping to drive the dreams away long enough to get some sleep.
Being in the Cage meant that her, and her Patron were far apart. She hoped that her Mistress could not read her heart yet, and see what was going on in her mind. She needed her blessings just a little longer. Kiera cleared her mind and carefully shed her armor, making sure to put the pieces away in a more orderly fashion than the night before.
Kneeling upon the prayer block, and settling her knees on the studded wood she winces slightly and opens the wooden box on the alter. She sets aside the pink lock of hair, but hesitates in putting it down as an unfamiliar feeling washes over her. Guilt, she wonders? Shaking her head again, trying to focus, she sets it aside and takes up the wickedly barbed and hooked scourge.
The sounds of the lash echo in her head for an hour as she prays, giving her body to her Mistress in abject supplication. She tries to ignore the fact that the pain doesn't feel quite as sweet at it did before, the agony no longer entwined with ecstasy. Was it her changing, or was Loviatar beginning to pull away?
After her prayers were complete she weakly cleaned and bound the wounds and climbed into her bed, lying on her stomach to keep from resting on the torn flesh. Like the last few nights she dreams, and they are not pleasant. Where once she slept with a clear consciousness and dreamed of the things that made her happy, now she saw flashes of people, their faces contorted in pain and suffering, and it did not please her. She saw herself causing their agony and it filled her with regret, and fear.
Every time she awoke in her fitful sleep she would take a drink from her flask, hoping to drive the dreams away long enough to get some sleep.