Ascention

Having successfully aided the King to the throne and negotiated a position of power for the Temple of the Scarlet Hook in Graeorta, the pains of the temple asked Leidende Sufridess to deliver the suffering that night. They had not given her much time, and she fumbled about her alcove looking for something to write with. She had heard more sufferings than she could count, but could remember none of them.

Time fast approached, and the followers gathered in the great hall. The crowd was larger than normal; word of Leidende’s growing position in the temple spread across the underground of the city. She still had nothing at all written down when one of the devotees was sent to retrieve her. When she arrived in the vestery, just outside the great hall, she could hear the crowd. So many, in fact, it was possible that all the clerics of Loviatar were there, and possibly some worshipping other friendly gods, Gethsemane and Malar.

She disrobed and then donned a highly detailed suit of ceremonial scale, the front bearing an inscription and sign of Loviatar’s devotees. A helmet made of Balor’s horns was placed over her head; two large horns sticking out to each side. Fingertip caps with short blades at the tips were placed, one on each digit. She was accustomed to seeing the pains of the temple dressed in this way; her heart pounded with excitement and anticipation as she looked down at herself.

Whipmistress Valhalla’s presence was sharply announced by a lay devotee, and Leidende turned to face her. She was the temple’s Greater Pain, and simply to be in her presence was a pleasure. Not only was she a beautiful woman, but highly intelligent and wise. She had corrupted the souls of many men and women, and caused a great deal of trouble in her time. She was holding something behind her back, with a wry smile on her face. “I have been looking forward to this day, Leidende. On your knees.”

Leidende fell to her knees as fast as she ever had before and looked up at Valhalla, who smiled a toothy grin and pulled out a jeweled scourge. The scourge had nine long attachments, and at the end of each, small barbs designed to inflict pain and suffering – this is the symbol of Loviatar. She raised her chin proudly and expected Valhalla to strike at her as she had before, but she did not. In a way, Leidende was almost disappointed. She extended her arm and grabbed the scourge.

“By Loviatar, my Whipmistress, can it be?” she exclaimed in a soft, sweet voice.

“Yes, Leidende. Loviatar has given me this scourge – for you. What a very special gift this is; she was especially pleased of your dealings with the King, and instructed me to raise you to the post of Pain. She must be very enamored with you, Leidende.” As she spoke, she ran a blade-sharp fingernail across each of Leidende cheeks, cutting them so that blood would drip down to the floor. Leidende grimaced at first, then looked up at her with widened eyes, feeling somewhat aroused – as the whipmistress must have been.

Leidende took the scourge from her hand and unrolled it slowly, then rolled it up once more. It was warm to the touch. She could feel the power of wounding within it. “Are you ready to bless the devotees, Leidende?” she asked. She still did not have anything written down to say, but somehow felt that now it would not matter. “I am ready, Whipmistress.” Valhalla led Leidende out to the great hall where they stood together side-by-side. Everyone stopped their chatter quickly when they saw the jeweled scourge attached to Leidende’s belt, a sign of her rank, and soon they would hear her first suffering as Pain.

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Lord Ao, Unseen Overgod of Abeir-Toril
Loviatar, Goddess of Pain and Suffering
Great Druid Valdor Dormanigon

The Suffering

All eyes were upon her, standing beside the Altar of Pain. Various offerings had been placed there by the congregation. The first order of business was to bless the offerings and call Loviatar to witness the ceremony. Her voice was loud, but a hint of nervousness could be heard in it; the “growing pains” – and responsibilities - of ascention.

She raised her arms into the air and turned to the altar. “Loviatar, Goddess of Pain, hear my words!” Beads of sweat began to form on her forehead, and rolled into her furry brows. “Witness these gifts and these people who are your friends, your devoted ones, your slaves… grant us fortitude to endure your sufferings, and wisdom to learn from them.”

Immediately following the blessing, the congregation as a whole shouted, “Pain!” with one fist clenched in the air in front of them. The sound reverberated through the hall and seemed to last longer than it really did. Leidende almost joined them, but that would be inappropriate for someone of her rank in the clergy now.

She walked in front of the altar and unfurled her scourge. Nobody knew what to expect from her, and this course of action so early in the ceremony was highly unusual. “Who will lie upon the Altar of Pain and receive my blessing?” People turned to each-other nervously and shook their heads. “Is there nobody here at all strong enough to endure? Have you all become soft and weak in your homes, cozy next to your fireplaces, and comfortable in your beds?!”

There was no answer.

After a time, the Whipmistress Valhalla stood from her chair to the side and proclaimed to all, “I will endure.” The crowd collectively took a deep breath and held it. The Whipmistress stripped down to her undergarments and Leidende shackled her to the Altar of Pain.

Moments passed, and nothing was said. The silence only broken by an occasional cough or sneeze from the people gathered to witness. Normally the Pain delivering the suffering would recount various stories of revenge written in the texts, and instruct the people to go forth and revel in the pleasure of what they bring unto others. But today was different, and Leidende was moved into song… something nobody had expected, not even the Whipmistress.

Then Leidende began to sing...

We have come from the ashes, of the burning away
Pouring blood in the fire, on the altar of pain
Led into temptation, now the black Gods align
Here there is no salvation, and your blood is my wine!

As she sang, she used her scourge on Valhalla, tearing small gashes in her skin. Valhalla screamed in mixed agony and delight, and seemed to grow stronger with each flogging. Indeed, in private prayer this was how the followers of Loviatar would pray for their powers from the goddess, and it was unusual to do so in a public venue. The Whipmistress was aware of this, and the eventual unrest it may cause.

Here's a world that is waiting
between the living and the dead
Here the flesh and it's pleasure
are Eternally we

Leidende continued to whip her superior, openly enjoying what she was doing. The quivering in her voice was erased, and all hesitation was washed away by the ceremony.

All is all for the taking
for a life or a lie,
at the end of the breaking
I'll be watching you die!

The congregation watched in awe at the spectacle before them, as Leidende rendered the last verse of prose.

Crawl to the silence,
renounce and deny
The stars and the numbers,
fortold of this time
To the words and the wisdom,
too the promise of lies,
by their angel and fury
The strong will survive!

Valhalla was lifted off the altar by unseen hands, and she screamed in agony as Loviatar herself made her presence known through her highest ranking follower. "Bless you my Queen!" Valhalla screamed aloud, wrapped in her goddesses arms. "I hear you!" she said thrice, "Your will be done!" she said with a gasp as her now broken body slowly decended to the Altar of Pain.

Lay devotees quickly scooped up the Whipmistress and brought her over to the Font of Agony where her blood would let. As the Whipmistress was taken away, Leidende Sufridess, Pain of Loviatar, addressed the congregation.

“Go now back to your comfortable homes, to your warm fireplaces, to your cozy beds. Reflect on your life, your faith, and who your protectors are. Loviatar grants you fortitude and wisdom to endure and learn, if you are willing to pay her price. She will free you, if you are only willing to follow! Take pleasure in your revenge, and do not be hasty with it. Let it build; savor the exquisite delicacy of anticipation and the destruction of one’s world through a slow decay. Leave our enemies bound and broken of body and of will. Strengthen your heart with their misery, and know first-hand the will of Loviatar."

Song credit: MANOWAR 1992, Triumph of Steel, “Burning”

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Lord Ao, Unseen Overgod of Abeir-Toril
Loviatar, Goddess of Pain and Suffering
Great Druid Valdor Dormanigon

New Worlds

Later that day, Whipmistress Valhalla had recovered from her scourging and stood proud and tall, blessing a few of the lay devotees in the Great Hall. Leidende entered the room from the vestery, and the devotees were quickly dismissed.

Leidende kneeled on her right knee in front of the Whipmistress, who was dressed in a fine silken robe that had come undone in the front. The scars of her scourging were meant for Leidende to see, and she reached out and touched Valhalla's stomach, running her fingers along the cuts she had made earlier in the day.

"You heal well Whipmistress," Leidende said.

"Not as well as in my youth, my young Pain." replied Valhalla with a short laugh, promptly taking Leidende's hand and motioning for her to rise. After Leidende was on her feet, Valhalla closed her robe much to Leidende's chagrin. "The goddess has spoken to me, Leidende. I could see her while I was on the Altar of Pain. Her hands wrapped around me, and ske spoke to me."

Leidende looked somewhat amazed as she replied. "You heard the will of Loviatar?"

Valahalla laughed again. "Of course child, this is the way of things. You will understand in due time. Unfortunately, that time will not be here in the Temple of the Scarlet Hook. We now have too many Pains in the temple, and it is time for you to leave."

Leidende lost her balance as her legs turned to uselessness beneath her. She collapsed to the floor in a heap, looking up at Valhalla. "Why do you forsake me, Whipmistress?"

"Quiet child. You did not let me finish!" Valhalla slapped Leidende square across the face, attempting to knock some sense into her. Leidende almost brought her hand to her face, but that would be a sign of weakness, and she stopped the motion. "Good," Valhalla said, "now listen to me. There is a land far from here, an island that has no minions of our goddess. The goddess has shown me the way, and you will go there to begin anew. You will build a shrine to Loviatar there, and establish the fruits of our knowledge and ways in that land - a land they call Amia."

"I am to become Whipmistress?" Leidende's eyes sparkled at the thought.

"It has been commanded, the will of Loviatar will be done," Valhalla replied, as she lifted Leidende from the floor. At that moment, a pair of Eyrines slinked out from behind some shadows and stood at each side of Valhalla. Each of them carried a gift for Leidende. One handed her a satchel full of White Rods, tokens of appreciation from the goddess herself. The other had a leather purse filled with platinum, which was handed to Leidende. After delivering their gifts, the Eyrines disappeared in puffs of smoke. Valhalla instructed Leidende where she could charter a boat to this new land. "I will give you one hour to collect your things and say your goodbyes, and then you will be on your own."

"Thank you Whipmistress, for everything you have done," Leidende replied. She raced off to her chambers to pack her belongings, excited and nervous about the challenge ahead of her.

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Lord Ao, Unseen Overgod of Abeir-Toril
Loviatar, Goddess of Pain and Suffering
Great Druid Valdor Dormanigon

Ah, That sheds some light on Leidende's backround.

Well done MM. The followers of Loviatar will be an interesting addition to Amia.

Lets hope Leidende doesn't find out Torg has made his way here as well. She has caused him enough pain for one lifetime...

To late. She knows. This could get messy...

Nice story, mate!

_________________
"People that talk in metaphors ought to shampoo my crotch." - Jack Nicholson.

Excellent writing! *claps*

Jamie

Torg walked out of the blacksmith shop in Cordor. He had his eye on a new helm, his old one dented and worn already. He had taken only a few steps when he stopped dead in his tracks. There she was, not twenty pace away. Someone Torg had traveled many miles across the sea to escape. Someone Torg hated to the core of his being. Leidende Sufridess, Whipmistress of Loviatar.

Torg’s thoughts raced. How? How had she come to be here? There was no way she could have known he was here. Could she? Had Leidende followed him all this way?

The reasons why were lost on him as Torg’s anger and hatred rose inside him. He howled in rage, “You!” “Damn you, why are you here?!” Torg drew his greatsword and advanced toward the Priestess. “Torg kill you where you stand!” he growled.

Although bystanders would later say that she seemed at least momentarily as surprised as Torg at their meeting, Leidende regained her composure and smiled softly at the Half-Orc.

“Why Torg, my silly little plaything, how nice to see you.” Leidende’s words dripped like honey, but burned through Torg’s soul like acid. He uttered an obscenity through clenched fangs and raised his sword.

Immediately others in the town square blocked his path to Leidende. It mattered not what past dealings had gone on between the Half-Orc and the Priestess. They meant to keep the peace in Cordor. Leidende also had more than a few of her goddesses’ worshipers accompanying her. They also were ready to defend their dark mistress.

There were angered words spoken. Some demanded an explanation. Torg had no intension of giving one. He kept his eyes locked on the Priestess. Any movement he perceived as hostile and all the others be damned he would cut her down. Even if it meant he would be killed a heartbeat later.

Possibly sensing that the situation could get out of hand, Leidende engaged the crowd. Working her skill at manipulating others she strengthened the perception that she was the innocent and Torg the aggressor.

It wasn’t long before Torg had all eyes on him. Some again demanded answers. Pockets of excited conversation started to overlap. This quickly became too much for Torg. Beginning to get confused and frustrated, he backed off. Abruptly, Torg pushed his way away from the crowd that had gathered. Turning to Leidende one last time before leaving through the Northern gate of the city Torg said, “You come near Torg again Priestess and Torg kill you”.