Age of Penance - The Tear of Sarwen

It was well past nightfall when the battle-weary group finally arrived in sight of the camp and met with the five Inquisition Assassins awaiting them. Their warm welcome turned into shock as soon as they learned about the attack and the loss of their comrade. There was comfort in hearing how their brother had been properly buried and given the Last Rites of the Elemental Gods, while the beast and the slave had been left to rot and feed carrions. But it was not enough to quench the boiling anger that quickly rose towards the Sisters of the Rock and their forsaken goddess Sarwen. It was their heathen ways that perpetuated the effects of the Rupture, the nearly hundred-year curse that kept plaguing the land. All their supporters were to blame too, traitors to the very will of the Gods, first of all ally and servant, the prisoner Elsie.

It started with one voice, and soon most of the assassins were calling for the immediate torture and lynching of the girl. Draven and the two Stormguard soldiers rallied around her, and very quickly the rogue hound himself facing Lance, the assassin whose rape of XVI-LV has attracted the monstruous bear. Both looked seriously tempted to let the blades do the talking this time around. It took Silas’ intervention to defuse the situation and his authority as the leader to restore order overall. There was no time to waste, he declared, the group would march on the convent at once, under the cover of the night. The men all complied but tensions were high, and Draven started to sorely regret having spent the last of his magic energy on that dreaded bear. 

* - *

Before long, the path became impossibly narrow and steep, down to shallow notches in the steep rock barely visible in the darkness. To top it all, a powerful sweeping wind was menacing to throw even the most experienced climbers down the vertiginous cliffside, to their assured death. Silas kept on pushing the group as far as he could, but soon even he had to concede and signal for them to stop.

- “Your whore knows the way doesn’t she?” he called, his voice almost covered by the wind, “ Time to put her to work!”

Liam looked for Draven’s nod of approval before proceeding, which he obtained. He then tugged on Elsie’s rope to get her close to him. After pulling his dagger from his belt, he looked her straight in the eyes and ran the pointy tip along the bulging skin of her tied breasts.

- “You’ll behave, or lose one of those!”

Her already worried eyes grew even wider with fear before she nodded. Liam then cut her free from most of her bindings with strong controlled slashes of the blade. The rope restraining her legs gave way first, then the rope holding her arms in reverse prayer position came down, unbinding her breasts at the same time. Finally he cut her forearms free of each other. The ropes had made deep marks on the girl’s body, her skin was scraped raw in the spots where it had rubbed the most. Even her tits were oddly deformed, hanging freely but retaining for a short moment the narrow strangle at their base with the rope pattern deeply imprinted. 

When it was all done, Elsie, freed from her bindings, instinctively tried to bring her arms together in front of her to cup her sore chest. She instantly regretted it, emitting a cry and tears pearling at the corner of her eyes. Her arms had been kept folded and constricted in such an unnatural position for so long, that even the slightest movement was extremely painful to her. However, the men were staring directly at her with menacing looks and she knew there would be no patience for her difficulties. Feeling the pressure, she attempted to move her newly freed arms once more, but she simply couldn’t. Thankfully Liam came to the rescue. He grabbed her hands and slowly unfolded her arms, forcing them through the difficult motion, and guiding her through the pain. She screamed behind her gag,

- “Gggggnnnnnniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii…. aaaaaaaah …aaaaaaaah!

She gave Liam, her sadistic savior, a look of both distress and gratitude as a thank you. In pain, but with no other choice, the tethered prisoner then followed her guardian towards the front of the group, passing the condemning looks of each assassin as she walked by. With her  experience guiding them, the group could continue their ascension. 

* - *

Slowly, the outline of the convent appeared at the bend of the trail, further up the mountain still, shining a pale white halo against the starry mosaic of the night sky. The fortress was a wondrous sight to behold even in the near total darkness of the night. Its majestic silhouette was anchored so impossibly to the steep cliff it even drew looks of admiration from the hardened killers in the group. The tall walls were made of large polished stones, lighter than the surrounding rock. There were no visible indents on the surface of the wall beside the faintest lines running between the blocks. The cliff it was anchored upon was also unnaturally smooth, with nowhere enough grip for even the most agile climber. It was rumored the fortress had been built in a time forgotten, long before Elaryon even sailed to these shores. Nobody today remembered it, and neither did anybody remember how the Sisters ever discovered the secret to entering it. Elsie, under torture, had claimed she was ignorant of these matters, and Draven had believed her. She was, it seems, a simple devoted girl occasionally bringing supplies, one that in retrospect the Sisters should have never trusted with their secret. 

* - *

After yet another strenuous climb, the group reached the final ledge, tucked-in between the polished stone wall of the convent and the bare rock of the cliff. Silas signaled Lance who immediately leapt behind Elsie, wrapping his arm below her tied chest and pressing her tight against him, and digging the sharp dagger into the delicate flesh of her neck with the other.

- “Moment of truth” Silas whispered in her ear, “Her gag!” he ordered Draven. 

The rogue didn’t fall for the taunt, he didn’t move. It was Liam who walked over and busied his hand to undo the bit gag held tight between her jaws.

- “Be a good girl” the soldier ordered her in a threatening but empathic voice, before removing the implement from her mouth. 

She did not even have a chance to stretch her mouth before Lance’s leather glove forcefully pressed over her just freed mouth. 

- “Make any noise when I let go, whore, and I promise you unspeakable agony for the rest of your miserable life.” the Assassin threatened her.

She nodded anxiously with what little motion the gloved hand left her. Draven stepped closer, putting his hostility towards Lance aside, and looked her straight in the eyes.

- “It is time! The incantation, now! And speak it softly!” he spoke with a was calm but unmistakably imperative voice.

Lance waited a moment, then lowered his hand, the tip of his blade still poking against the skin on her neck.

- “... please… they are not… they follow the ways of the penance, we all do, I swear… please… mercy… ”

- “Wrong answer!” Lance immediately shut her down, digging the steel of his blade further into her skin. A small trickle of blood started to let down her neck beneath the tip of the weapon.

- “I’ve had enough!” Draven added, “Liam, Dirk, spread her legs!”

She attempted to protest but Lance’s strong hand was pressing on her mouth again. The soldiers rushed to their companion’s help and pulled the girl's legs apart, revealing the protruding end of the studded implement still lodged deep inside her cunt. Her crotch and her inner upper thighs were smeared with dried blood. It had been two days since the vicious instrument had been inserted, stretching and scraping her insides, and the long climb certainly had made it hurt much worse. Draven pressed himself against her, his hand reached down and he started to twist the spreader handle, at a quick pace. Elsie immediately panicked and wiggled with all her remaining strength, like a deer suddenly victim to a hunter’s trap. She was powerless though, the three men were strong and held her tight in place, she did not move an inch. Draven kept turning the handle, looking her straight in the eyes as her look was turning from fear to full on panic. Her blue eyes were wide open and terrified, he could see the pain creeping into them. Finally he stopped, moving his hand slowly up against the stretched skin of her open pussy, drawing a shiver when he brushed her clit, then her mons and then pressing with his flat hand on her lower belly, where he felt the push-back of the hard spiked bulge inside of her.

- “The incantation” he repeated. 

- “I’m… I’m sorry… please…” Elsie broke fully into tears.

Draven approached his mouth from her ear.

- “Why resist? You know this is your fate… I can feel how wet you are… Why fight your nature? You feel it in your gut, don’t you? That this is what you are for… Listen to your own body showing you your truth, how you are made to comply. Or… maybe it is pain that you crave? Do you crave it so you wish to be torn inside?”

She shook her head in desperate defiance and continued her sobbing. Draven lowered his hand again, slowly, sliding against her most intimate parts then seized the handle once more. And he resumed the turning, which spread the four prongs of the implement even further inside her. She was already exceedingly stretched, and now this was truly hurting, soon there would be permanent damage.

• “MMmmmmmmmmpfffffaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaa!” her jerking and screaming kicked to the next level, but the men held tight and Lance didn’t let go of her mouth.

Draven kept going, there would be no more mercy. One more turn… and then finally, she nodded her head in defeat. Lance lifted his hand. Her lips were trembling, she could barely speak.

- “Aaaaah… aahhh… Buka jalan kepada… dewi”

There was a tingling in the air, and an ethereal sound, soft and pure like water flowing from a pristine source. And out of nowhere, a faint light started to shine in the small interstices between the polished stones of the temple wall. The light became brighter and brighter until the stones started to move, by themselves without the slightest sound or even  vibration, like everything was made of pure air. Two large stones at the bottom, then two above and once more until there was an opening just large enough for a man to pass through. And then the light flashed and faded away. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust again to the darkness, and when they could see again, it was like the stones had always been opened. 

- “I’ll be damned” Silas let slip.

Lance seemed impressed as well, but his mind quickly returned to the girl at hand.

- “Looks like you’ve served your purpose, traitor whore…”

And with these words he applied pressure to the blade still snug against her vulnerable neck. It would have cut right through if Liam had not reached, grabbed his wrist and pulled, postponing the tragic fate awaiting the girl.

- “There’s no need!” Liam quickly argued while fighting to pry the assassin’s blade away from the prisoner’s neck. “She’s done what’s needed… there’s no need!”

There was alarm in the soldier’s voice, like he had grown quite fond of the prisoner girl. Thinking back, Draven realized Liam had been the one looking after her all along their journey, making her comply, threatening and punishing her when needed, but also helping her. And now it was obvious from his tone that he longed for the chance to keep tormenting the girl if he could. Elsie had been far from the perfect slave, but during the last few days, Draven had to admit she did eventually respond to pain and torture with compliance. Maybe she could be turned into a proper submissive after all. With these thoughts, and his growing dislike of Lance helping, Draven decided to side with Liam. He pulled his dagger out of its sheath and looking directly at the assassin, gestured a no with his head. 

It was two against one, three with Dirk who was standing just steps behind. This was not worth a fight, not now that they needed to get in the convent. Lance knew it and lowered his blade, but the expression on his face was clear, Draven’s interference had gone much too far, he would not back down next time.

- “Fine! The whore can live.” he said with blatant anger.

He let her free from his grip,, pushed her down, and naked body collapsed onto the dirt, She let off a sharp cry when her lower abdomen hit the ground, the spreader punching her inside her most intimate place. 

- “Shut up and listen, traitor whore,” Lance added, “when you hear your sister’s screams, you will know that YOU did this, that they fell because of YOU!”

He spat on the girl before turning away and joining his comrades. Liam gave a thankful nod to the rogue and they quickly joined the band in turn. One by one, the assassins made their way into the convent through the narrow opening. They left Elsie behind, defeated on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably with the studded device still wide expanded inside of her. Between cries she was muttering over and over “I’m sorry… I’m sorry”. She did not even reach down to unwind the handle of the implement that was painfully stretching her inside. Maybe deep down, she knew she deserved the pain.

* - *

Silas had let three men inside before he gestured for Draven and the soldiers in. He would follow them with Lance and the last three. The Rogue, as thin as he was, still had to present himself sideways to slide into the small opening. He emerged inside a narrow and tall corridor, dark and dank, the uneven stones lining its walls contrasting with the polished look outside. This did not feel like the proper entrance to a fortress, rather like a secret passage leading inside the walls themselves. The path was narrow, it winded down to a flight of stairs carved directly into the rock and finally, a light could be seen further ahead. 

Draven heard a muffled commotion as he came closer to the light, which put him on alert. He drew his dagger before moving forward swiftly and quietly.  He emerged cautiously through another narrow opening between the stones to find himself in a small circular, well lit room. Whatever caused the commotion, it seemed to be handled, the assassins were positioning themselves on each side of a sturdy door on the opposite wall, with the last one on the left wiping his blade. Draven stepped in and immediately understood why. Down on the side laid a beautiful girl in a long layered dress that covered her down to the knees leaving her arms exposed. The fabric, of a pure white color with azure lines running over the shoulders and down to her sides appeared light and supple and conformed to her beautiful shapes, leaving little to the imagination. The visible curves of her soft ample breasts made it clear she did not wear anything underneath. Her skin was pale, almost as white as the dress, with freckles running up her arms to her shoulder. Her short red hair fell on the side and was a bit ruffled where her head rested against the wall. She looked at peace with her eyes closed, she might even have been sleeping if not for the rapidly growing red stains creeping through the white cloth below her neck and underneath her breast, and the thin drip of blood trickling from the corner of her slightly open pale pink lips. Her left hand had traced a red smear on her dress from the open stab wound down to her side, and was resting palm up on the dirt. Her right hand was also lying open on the floor, next to her spear which had rolled out of her grip. The first of the sisters had fallen to the assassins, without a fight and much of a sound. The attackers still had the element of surprise.

* - *

After they had all positioned themselves on each side of the exit door weapons ready, Silas pushed it open, slowly. He gave a quick look left, right. He could not see quite distinctly in the darkness from the well lit guard room, but it seemed all clear. Swiftly, he moved along the wall. The men discovered a horse-shoe shaped courtyard with the high surrounding walls casting a strange darkness over them. Directly across the courtyard, Silas could now distinguish the outline of another, larger reinforced door. When Draven came out, his eye got drawn to another thing entirely, which nobody else seemed to have noticed. In the middle of the back side of the courtyard, was a thin but tall breach into the cliff rock itself. It was barely visible in the darkness but to Draven, it was practically the only thing he could see. There was something there, he was not sure what it was or how he knew, but there was something and it felt like it was calling to him, he was certain this was where he was supposed to go. It took some effort to shrug off that feeling, and force himself to focus and return his attention to Silas. The leader progressed a few more steps, before crouching beside a stack of wooden crates, turning to lance and…  the whole group froze at the sound of  high pitch scream that suddenly came from the round end of the courtyard.

• “Aleeeeeert! Intrudeeeeeeeers!”

Silas turned his head, and there in the deep shadows of the curved high wall were gallows. He couldn’t believe he had missed it. But his sight has now adapted to the darkness, and he could make out two silhouettes. One girl was locked in stocks, screaming, and another hanging by her wrists from a post, immobile and silent.

• “Intruuuudeeeers!” The girl in the stocks screamed again.

There was no time to waste, he dashed. In long swift steps he closed the distance, leapt and twisted in the air. With a perfectly timed motion, his blade came down forcefully on the front side of the stocks. The scream stopped abruptly and the girl’s head rolled down the gallows, bounced off and went on to finish its course into the dirt, where it stopped on its side, perfectly still. What was just a moment ago the pretty face of a young girl, was now an inert piece of flesh, with both blue eyes and mouth still open, wrapped in a tangled mess of dirt and long black hair. Her naked, headless body had dropped from the stocks to hang weirdly by her wrists, which were still trapped in the tight openings in the wood. Her bladder was emptying itself, and piss flowed between her oddly angled spread legs. Her companion of pain, a short haired strawberry blonde hanging naked by her wrists, was sporting deep horizontal welts all over the front of her body, starting from her upper chest, abdomen and thighs, with a much higher concentration on her breasts and at the level of her crotch. She also had a few severely bruised spots on her chins. Whatever she had done, Draven thought, her punishment had been brutal, and that picture was far from the tales he heard of mad women plotting for the demise of men. 

The marks were fresh and clearly still painful, but her eyes fixed on the headless body. She was breathing quickly, her exposed chest heaving up and down, but she remained silent and did not flinch when she felt the sting of Silas’ blade, which he held pointed just below her breast.

• “A noise and you die!” He threatened her, needlessly. 

Whether she complied or not, it was already too late. The screams of the now headless girl and the following commotion had been heard. One by one, the small slits on the wall opposite to the round room were lighting up. Whispers were heard, then shouts, and then the ring of a bell that could only be a call to arms. 

Draven and half the men had followed Silas to the gallows, they rushed to cover between the wooden structure and the wall. The others, including the two Stormguard soldiers, remained behind by the small room’s door. Silas raised a closed fist, ordering them to stay in position. He knew almost nothing of the reclusive sisters, their numbers, their weapons if they had any. He needed to understand what they were up against. He turned his attention back to the tied girl, and pressed the tip of his blade against her neck. 

• “How many sisters? Any combatants?”

The girl looked at him with her scared eyes wide open, her breathing accelerated but she stayed silent. Pressed by time, Silas lowered his blade to her breast, it would cost her dearly to stay silent… There was a faint noise high above, a crisp tingling in the air almost inaudible, and then the start of a whooooosh. Silas turned his head, then immediately jumped as fast as far as he could. He soared into the air, neither knowing nor caring where he would land. The ice ball just missed him before it burst onto the gallows unleashing a blast of arctic wind and ice shards in every direction. Draven ducked below the structure and saw, before closing his eyes, Silas rolling away, tucking his face into his arms for protection. There was a loud “CRRAAAASHHH”!

The air was still painfully cold when Draven raised his head. High above him, on the battlements were three women, the one in the middle, wearing a tight pale blue dress was staggering back, the spell caster most likely, shaken by the monumental effort it took to cast the spell. This thought was consistent with the wreckage the projectile had caused. The impact with the ice ball had been violent, the center of the gallows laid wrecked, a quick look at the prisoner on the post revealed she was in agony, frozen from her right leg, to her hips and up to her right breast. She was in shock, struggling even to scream. Then just to the left, the one assassin who had not duck in time was in even worse shape. He was stumbling forward in small steps. His whole upper body had the looks of a horrific frozen statue, his face of a dark blue crisscrossed with black veins, half covered with frost. He took three steps then tipped forward and crashed with a loud heavy “BOM” onto the old planks of the gallows.

Silas didn’t let the setback defeat him. Draven saw him rush back to the gallows with a vengeance, and after a quick check of his surroundings for at least temporary safety, he returned to the half frozen tied girl on her post. He pressed the tip of his blade onto her again, hard, this time just under left breast, pointing straight to her heart.

• “The pendant! Where is it? I can end your agony if you talk now!”

The girl initially didn’t move but it was clear she understood the questions. She raised her eyes and directed them towards the breach in the rock, at the opposite end of the courtyard.

• “.... … temple…” 

She only managed to pronounce one word, her imploring eyes now looked towards the lead assassin.

• “... end … me … please ….”

• “Your kind is made to suffer, it is why you exist.” Silas replied with a dry, emotionless voice, before withdrawing his blade from the girl’s chest.

Another quick look and the Master Assassin ducked into cover again with the rest of the men, just before a couple of arrows hissed past their positions. There was a “toc” sound from across the courtyard, more arrows started to fly between the now lit-up windows and the door to the small guard room. Silas turned to Lance. 

• “We need to take them down. I’ll stay and create an opening. You go with Ekel and Ymus at my signal, and you secure it!” he ordered, with a clear insistence on those last words. 

He then shouted:

• “Everybody with me! We will show those whores the true meaning of pain!”

Waiting for a break in the incoming stream of arrows, he finally rose up and screamed “Attaaaaack!”, before grabbing the headless body of the girls in the stocks and raising her up as a meat shield to the incoming arrows. At his cries, the assassin archers deployed on the courtyard, staying mobile and starting to let arrows back at the defenders, while the blade wielding assassins followed Silas’ lead and grabbed the remaining dead sister’s bodies, before advancing towards the wall with the lit windows, where the sturdy door stood. 

This was the moment for Lance and his companions to spring into motion and dash across the open courtyard. Draven tracked the three men racing across the courtyard, until they contorted themselves into the breach and disappeared into the mysterious entrance, the same one that was calling to him earlier. He felt the calling even stronger now, like a pounding in his chest. He needed to go. He sprung into action, dashed for it, running left and right and disappeared into the cliff, leaving behind the loud noises of the raging battle and Silas angrily calling his name.

* - *

To be continued in Chapter 8: The Bound Guardian