Goldheart

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Jenera
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Location: Warsaw, Indiana
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Goldheart

Postby Jenera » Fri Feb 25, 2005 12:31 am

Wanted the name Goldheart for my new elven elementalist. It was denied on the basis that my choice didn't follow the guidelines for elven last names according to Toril rules. I felt it did, but was told to write a story. I know there is still a chance to it can be denied, but I think this story explains it decently well. Haven't written anything in over a year since my huge Jenera story so I hope it's adequate. I personally think it sucks :P


The black leather whip lashed out with a loud crack against the female’s back and she screamed in pain and terror, tears running unchecked down her ravaged face. Flecks of blood stained the cold stone floor and the blood dripped from the length of the torture device. Her head hung down from between her shoulders and her arms slack where her wrists were shackled to chains hanging down from the ceiling. With one last lash of the whip and one last scream wrenched from her lips, the female’s torturer left her to her misery.

As soon as the clang from the iron door closing was heard, the beaten woman cried to herself with great heaving sobs. Still young by elven standards, she had not known a time where she hadn’t been a slave. Her current master was cruel and heartless and it was not unknown to find him beating one of his slaves, male or female, or watching while one of his associates did it for him. She had been sent here, affectionately named ‘The Depths of Hell’ by the guards, for speaking against her master at his harsh treatment of the newest slave, a young human girl no older then thirteen years. She cringed at the memory of hearing her master order her punishment for her insolence. Twenty lashes of the whip now graced her already scarred back and now she waited in fear for the second half. Her master had given his two prison guards free reign of her body, whether for further physical punishment or sexual gratification. She looked down at her sweaty body, her nubile curves still firm despite years of servitude, and guessed what the guards would choose.

Her head shot up as the grating sound of the iron locking bar was lifted and the door swung inward. One of the guards swaggered in and smiled lecherously at the sight of her naked body. He picked up a pail full of water and tossed the contents at her. Dirty water hit her in the face and dripped down her body, somewhat cleansing the dried blood. He unfastened the shackles and let her drop unceremoniously to the floor.

“Get up, scum!” he bellowed.

She managed to rise to her knees and put her hand on the wall to get up the rest of the way, when the guard kicked her behind and she fell sprawling to the ground.

“I said to get up, slave scum!”

She bit her lip at the retort that pressed against the roof of her mouth and rose shakily to her feet. The guard grunted and taking a firm grip of her elbow led her out of the chamber. She gasped when she saw her master standing by the door and instantly dropped to the floor, groveling and begging for his forgiveness. He lifted her chin with his foot and smiled coldly.

“Bring her upstairs,” he ordered.

“B-u-u-u-u-t sir, you said we could—“

“Bring her upstairs and don’t make me say it again.”
“Yes, my lord,” the guard said, sullenly.

The guard waited until his employer left the prison and his footsteps could no longer heard. He motioned for the other guard to watch the hallway and when his companion gave the ok, he grabbed the woman by her hair and tossed her over the splintery, wooden desk. Pinning her arms and legs down, he violently turned her head to the side.

“I will not be cheated of what I’m owed.”

Screams of outrage filled the dank prison and soon led to hysterical sobbing. The guard watching the hall laughed and turned his head.

“Aren’t you finished with the wench yet? It’s my turn!”

The female sobbed and begged for it to stop, but neither guard paid any attention. As she cried and wished she could die, her cruel master sat several levels above ground on silk cushions, sipping his tea and fondling another one of his young slaves, thinking life could not be better than this.


~**********************~


Night had fallen and the elven slave tossed fitfully on her bed of old hay. The other female slaves had already succumbed to their rest and she could hear the sounds of rats clicking over the stone floor above their soft snores. She winced as her ratty woolen blanket got caught up in her newest scars and tears came to her eyes. She stood and walked over to the one barred window and looked up at the gibbous moon.

“I’m Jellisanera, just a slave,” she said softly to the sky.

Looking down at the grounds, she could see a few guards patrolling the estate and another group around a large bonfire, slurping something loudly from clay bowls. Her stomach growled at the thought of food and regretted her insolent behavior once more. She had been denied entrance to the kitchen where the slaves usually got to taste the leftovers from their master’s extravagant meals and was even denied her daily ration of bread and old wine.

Do gods really exist? Do they watch over us and protect us, like my mother taught me before she died so long ago? I wish they would just strike me down. Perhaps then, I can find my family and find peace, she thought.

She went back to her bed, pulled the old blanket around her sore body, and cried herself to sleep.


The days passed into months and the months into years. Jellisanera was very careful not to attract her master’s negative attention. She no longer spoke in the defense of other slaves as it saved their lives and hers as well. They served him and doted on him, took his punishments with as much stoic silence as they could muster, no matter how irrational the reason for the act, and resigned themselves to their fate. During the cold winter nights, they huddled together amongst their hay beds and during the hot summers, they slept mostly unclothed, taking turns at watch so the guards would not assault their bodies. Every night, Jellisanera took a few moments to look to the heaves and prayed for any deity to end her life and send her piece of mind.


~************************~


One sunny morning, one of her master’s attendants sought her out with an errand. She was to take a yearly tithe to the city’s temple. As the years had passed, she was given more freedom to wander about the grounds, but this was the first time she had been given permission to leave the estate all together.

“Are you sure, Broman?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m sure. The master said to find one of the slaves to drop it off and whispered something about the tithe being much less then he usually gives and doesn’t want to have to explain to the clerics. You have been here the longest of all of the slaves and I felt you are the right choice for the job,” he assured.

“Alright, I’ll do as the master desires. Where is this temple?”

“Go down the path that leads to the main road. The temple is on the main road to the west, you’ll know it when you see it. It is run by clerics of Hanali Celanil and Sune. It is no wonder the master tends to avoid them. Those clerics are much against slavery, but he donates much money to the city’s leaders and built the temple they reside in. They refrain from public denunciation of his practices, but they give him a hard time the few times he visits the temple,” Broman chuckled.

Jellisanera smiled weakly and nodded. As she turned to leave, Broman touched her arm and smiled at her.

“Things will get better by and by. The gods look with favor on those that suffer needlessly.”

“Thank you for your words, Broman, but I stopped believing a long time ago.”

Broman nodded sadly and left her alone.


She put on her silk garments that were only worn when serving the master, but she felt that if she were punished for it, she’d know that it would keep her master’s name from being soiled. The punishment for that would be something infinitely more feared.

She took her path ambling down the path, admiring the fruit trees in bloom and the sound of hawkers shouting out their wares. She was almost sorry when she reached the temple. Jellisanera opened the large doors and slipped into the candlelit interior. She stayed silent for she seemed to have walked into daily prayers. Everyone in the temple knelt at stone and gold pews, praying to their gods in fervent voices.

Two comely females stood on either side of a jeweled altar, one a small elf, the other a tall, slender human. Both recited something different from the other in loud voices, yet their words seemed to blend like a song.

“Beauty is more than skin deep. It issues from the core of one’s being and reveals one’s true face to the world, fair or foul. Believe in romance, as true love will win over all. Follow your heart to your true destination. Love none more than yourself except Sune, and lose yourself in love of the Lady Firehair. Perform a loving act each day, and seek to awaken love in others. Respond to love at least once in a day. Encourage beauty wherever you find it. Acquire beautiful items of all sorts, and encourage, sponsor, and protect those who create them. Keep your own body as comely as possible and as attractively displayed as situations warrant. Let hairstyle and clothing best suit your personal appearance, striving to stir and delight others who look upon you. Moreover, hide not away, but always seek to present yourself to those around you in a pleasing variety of garbs and activities so as to move them with love and desire. Love those who respond to your appearance, and let warm friendship and admiration flower where love cannot or dares not, “ said the human woman, with reverence in her voice.

“Life is worth living because of the beauty found in the world and the love that draws twin hearts together. Nurture what is beautiful in life, and let beauty’s rapturous glow enliven and brighten the lives of those around you. The greatest joy is the rapture of newfound love and the tide of romance that sweeps over those wrapped in its embrace. Find love wherever it takes root, and bring it to its fullest bloom so that all may share in the joy and beauty it creates. Always give shelter and succor to young lovers, for their hearts are the truest guides to life’s proper course,” said the elven woman, speaking the words in sing-song.

Jellisanera listened with wide eyes and shallow breaths. To have the freedom to choose this way of life would have been wonderful. But freedom wasn’t hers and after being chattel property for so long, she wasn’t sure if she wanted it. Her pensive thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched, yet melodic voice. She turned to face a beautiful elven woman with dark hair and cheery green eyes. Jellisanera realized with a start that this was the same person standing at the altar just moments before.

“Welcome to the temple of the Ladies Goldheart and Firehair. How may I assist you?”

Jellisanera lifted the large pouch of coins and the letter that Broman had given her and pushed them into the cleric’s hands. The cleric frowned and unrolled the letter. As she read, anger flashed in her eyes and when she was done, she passed the letter to the woman that had stood at the altar with her, who had now joined both elven women. The human woman skimmed the letter and with an angry gesture crumpled up the parchment and threw it over her shoulder. Taking the coins from her fellow cleric, she motioned for one of the acolytes to place the coins in the tithing bowl. With that done, she turned to face the visitor.

“I bid you welcome to our home. May I assume you are one of his?”

As vague as her question was, Jellisanera understood.

“Yes,” she whispered, timidly.

The two clerics glanced at each other and turned their eyes back to Jellisanera.

“Be at peace here, there is no need to worry. The Ladies bade us to spread love and protection to all of those around us. That includes you though others may have told you differently. I wish to introduce myself. I am called Sorithe,” said the human woman.

“And I am called Keristhanilisae, but most call me Keri,” said the elven woman with a giggle.

Jellisanera curtseyed to both women and bowed her head in respect.

“I am called Jellisanera, though my more common names are slave and scum.”

Jellisanera gasped and slapped her hands across her mouth. She blushed bright red and tried to hide her face.

“I’m s-s-s-sorry. I shouldn’t say such things. I spoke before thinking properly.”

Sorithe and Keristhanilisae laughed heartily.

“I see your spirit has yet to be beaten out of you. I am glad. We know of what goes on in that estate, but we are helpless to stop it presently. There are many who need our help and we cannot do that if our temple is destroyed and our deities’ names spoiled. The Ladies have even bade us to stay silent and that one day, suffering will cease,” said Sorithe.

“Do not worry yourselves. I have resigned myself to my fate. I have been a slave of one or another for so many years that I am unsure I could survive were I free. I remember small patches of my childhood. My mother, my father, my siblings, their faces fade with each passing year. I know my mother died long ago, my father shortly after her. I do not know, however, what has become of my siblings. I do not remember their names. I am surprised I still remember my own.”
“Should you ever need assistance and can get away, you are always welcome here. We will help you as much as we can,” said Keri.

Jellisanera nodded in gratitude and was about to leave when Sorithe and Keri gasped.

“What is it? Did I do something wrong?” Jellisanera said, her voice rising in panic.

“Did you see that, Sorithe? On her cheek?”

“Yes, something like this hasn’t happened since you were chosen, Keri. What could this mean?”

Jellisanera glanced from one woman to the other, wondering what they were talking about. She placed her hand on her cheek, but could feel no difference from any other day.

Keri placed her arm around Jellisanera’s waist and said, “Do you have to return right away? I would like to show you something, but not if it would bring you to harm.”

Jellisanera opened the door and looked at the sky. Not much time had passed since she arrived and despite her fear of her master, her curiosity was greater.

“I have time, what is it that you wish to show me?”

“Come with us.”

She followed the two women up to the altar. The smooth marble surface held two silver bowls, one with coins and other valuables, the other with clear water. Beautiful silk tapestries of comely men and woman were placed on the walls and two ornate yet completely different chairs sat behind the altar.

Keri placed her right hand on Jellisanera’s shoulder and said, “Bathe your hands and your face in the holy water, my sister. Let the liquid drip down your neck and by your heart. She did as she was instructed and then looked at the cleric of Hanali with questions in her eyes.

“Kneel in front of the altar, Jellisanera. Close your eyes and empty your mind. Turn your thoughts to the heavens.”

She knelt in front of the altar and closed her eyes. Flashes of torture and punishment flashed through her mind. Fear nicked at the corners of her eyes. She tried desperately to empty her mind, but she could not. Tears began to flow freely down her face as she struggled to forget. Keri and Sorithe glanced at each other again.

Just as Jellisanera was about to give up, to explain to the two women that she could not empty her mind, nor could she forget all that she had suffered, she heard a voice in her head.
“You are one of my own. Born of my womb. Your tears have reached my ears, your screams for salvation during the pain you suffer daily. You will carry my name and one day your suffering shall be no more. You are a Goldheart now, my daughter. One day, you will join your sisters in bringing love and beauty back into these lands. One day, you will be free. But that is not this day. It is too soon. But when that day comes, you will proudly say that the name of Goldheart is your own to claim. Jellisanera Goldheart, my daughter. Never forget I am here for you.”

The voice faded away and Jellisanera slumped to the ground. She looked at her reflection on the shiny surface of the altar and saw a gold heart flicker on her cheek and then disappear. For the first time that she could remember, she felt completely at peace.

Sorithe and Keri helped her to her feet. They embraced her and kissed her cheeks and wiped the tears from their own eyes. Suddenly, there was a desperate knocking at the temple doors and a disheveled man ran inside.

“Broman!”

“You must hurry. The master is on a rampage because he called for you just a moment ago and you did not answer his call. I fear for you. I ran here as fast as I could to bring you back with me!” Broman said as he wrung his hands.

Jellisanera nodded and after rubbing her cheek to each of theirs in a quick embrace, she fled the temple with Broman.
Memorable Quotes from TorilMUD Gathering 2006

Sotana sez, 'I'll take it dirty.'
Teflor sez, 'Bobo, show me on the doll where the barbarian touched you.'
Duna sez, 'Is there anything else that needs to go in my backend?'
Pril sez, 'I'm too pretty to go to jail.'
Boboloppe sez, 'The only reason I joined Imphras was because of Sotana's ass.'

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