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Rowena (Broken Home backstory)

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Laetitia

Laetitia

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“Hear, ye Citizens of the Zarosian Empire! (“Ye hear about the price of bread, brother?” some short-lived humourist yells from the back of the crowd.) “Today we are gathered to witness the execution of so-and-so, a spy from the heathen kingdom of Hallowvale… threat to our faith and our lands…found guilty of five counts of espionage against the Empire… condemned to death by beheading by His Holiness the Pontifex Maximus ra-ra raah…on the behalf of Our Lord The Emperor Zaros.

To the sound of drumrolls the Pontiff (Rowena is correct, he’s really quite short) exits the stage, leaving only the ripper demon and his bound victim, whose head has been placed on the block by a pair of thoughtful assistants. There is a flash, a glint of light on a claw, and a dark fountain spurts where the man’s head was.

*That’s a good one”, Rowena remarks from his side, picking chestnut from her teeth. “But the Tribune was way better.”

Even for those who care about such things, the aftermath of an execution is always a bit of a let-down. The body bleeds dry, the hangman cleans his claws, and the mortal remains of the enemy are impaled on a stake.

“Let’s go, Sen”, she says, sliding off the bench. “I gotta go home, mother will work through the night again.” She crumples up her empty paper cone and chucks it in the ditch. “So, you enjoy executions, then?” is the only thing he can think of to ask her as they head back towards Infernals’ Bridge. “They’re free.” Fair enough.

They’re already at West Canalside, when Rowena suddenly freezes on spot. “Sen-“At first he doesn’t understand. The night is mild, there’s people around, and they’re in a good part of the town. Then, following her petrified gaze, he spots them. The night patrol.

03-Jan-2015 19:55:21

Laetitia

Laetitia

Posts: 66 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The town guard, touring the streets to pick up and lock up the drunken, the derelict and the otherwise unwanted. More people go into their cells than come out. The decision he makes is instinctive and immediately right. “Between the wall and me, Rowena.” She obliges, and he backs against her, shielding her from sight with his immense bulk. As the armoured patrol marches past, he can feel her tiny heart beating. They pass the Chthonian without a look.

Neither one of them says a word more on the journey home. There are things you do for your friends, and you do them without questions and without thanks. He drops her off at the shanties, and as the first stars come out, he knows he’ll be dead tired at work tomorrow and doesn’t care.

But a gloom far beyond the concerns of either of them looms over the Empire. There’s an incident at the Hallowvale border. A riot occurs over road duties in Forinthry and is put down by the army. Early in Novtumber an actual Cardinal is executed for treason in the Square of Eternal Fires. And as in all over the Zarosian lands, the darkness seems to find its way to the backstreets of Senntisten. In the run-down houses beyond the shanties of East Canalside, evil seems to be concentrating behind boarded windows. There is talk of unlicensed mages and makers of obscure and dangerous potions. There are not a few disappearances and the shanty-dwellers speak, in hushed tones, about a congregation of the Balance Cult gathering in a condemned warehouse.

None of this draws too much attention from the authorities, however. Canalside has always had its problems, and as long as they only concern the lower echelons of the society there is little reason to interfere. And so it goes, until comes the day a man clad in an armour made of the indigestible skin of Avernics is arrested for attacking a Chthonian merchant near the docks.

03-Jan-2015 19:56:58

Laetitia

Laetitia

Posts: 66 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
At the guardhouse he reveals his motive –a summoner of Abyssal beings had hired him to obtain a chunk of demon flesh, promising a handsome reward. As even the more creative methods of the Praetorians can*t make him reveal the name of his employer, the would-be mutilator is tried for attempted murder, convicted and summarily executed.

The incident proves not to be the only one of its kind, and a sense of dread descends over the wintry streets. Friends and colleagues advise Sene*inus to abandon his shortcut, to stick to the safety of Victory Bridge, but something of Rowena’s courage has bled into him. Resisting the impending fear, he holds on to his route and routine. Every morning Rowena meets him, walks with him across Infernals’ Bridge, and runs along again as he turns to Ceres Street.

Wintumber unloads its revenge on Senntisten, stripping the trees of their leaves and covering the pavements with ice. The days grow short and the nights freezing. Down in Canalside the fires burn throughout the night, no matter the cost of wood.

Of late, he has found it easier to stand up to Atroxius. Ever since the night of the spy** execution, there has been something alien and wonderful in him. Rebellion. He doesn’t know whether it has more to do with scandalizing his supervisor (who has never been quite the same), or with shielding Rowena from the patrol (not quite breaking the law, but close), but he feels like a new being.

Yet another crisp morning sees Seneci**** come up to Infernals’ Bridge, when a voice calls him from below. He peeks over the balustrade to see a familiar face peer at him from a hut. “Sen! Hi! I can*t come out right now! Mother’s sick! Anyhow”, she continues in the same high-pitched wail she uses with her little brother and all her street-dwelling friends, “Big news! I’ll let you know as soon as I can!* The head disappears inside the hut, and after a break of digesting the previous, he continues his commute.

03-Jan-2015 19:57:54 - Last edited on 03-Jan-2015 20:10:22 by Laetitia

Laetitia

Laetitia

Posts: 66 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The afternoon finds him staying for overtime, and it is dark by the time he leaves the Bureau again. The cold has driven most people indoors, and bar for a few stragglers, the streets are empty. Fortunately, Chthonians are hardly heat-sensitive, and the temperature doesn’t prevent him from backtracking up to the Bridge of the Forgotten Infernals. But Rowena is nowhere to be found, and Sene*inus heads on down East Canalside.

Presently he becomes aware of being followed. Someone –a human by the sound of the steps –has been trailing him for a while, disappearing every now and then into the landward side lanes. Scouting with all his eyes, he can see no-one either in the wharves to the right nor in the covered walkways to the left. Trying not to think of Byzroth-skin armour and cursed knives, he picks up his speed and counts the distance towards Victory Bridge. The scaffolding erected against a house under repair forces him into an even narrower track and blocks any exits. The footsteps sound ever closer, ever quicker. They backtrack and sidestep, looking for a way to cut across. Closer. Quicker. *Nothing?

All is silent. He’s alone. Water swirls in the canal. Torches burn. Snowflakes fall gently from the winter sky…and there should be none.

It’s above him.

A flash, movement, something leaps from the scaffolds –gulp. Gone.

Gone.

As the last memories of what he just ate in self-defence begin to reveal their contents, they meld together with the glimpse of his topside eyes. A small figure, jumping off the scaffolds. The idea of surprising him. The big news. Expectation. Joy.

Her face, fearful of him for the first and last time.

Gulp.

Gone.

At about ten o’clock that night a many-mouthed scream tears the air near the East end of Victory Bridge. The Night patrol soon arrives, finding only a hysterical, teary Chthonian writhing and wailing on the sidewalk by himself.

03-Jan-2015 19:58:19 - Last edited on 03-Jan-2015 20:10:44 by Laetitia

Laetitia

Laetitia

Posts: 66 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
At the guardhouse the demon calms down enough to utter something about a human child. The sergeant doesn’t really know what to make of it, but finally decides to lock him up for the night. He doesn’t resist being taken to the cell.

Throughout the hellish night, Rowena’s thoughts and memories unfurl inside him. He recalls them as if they were his own, seeing the world through her eyes. Their village in South-West Fortinthry, a few stone cottages surrounded by endless green fields. Running through the high corn late at summer, the bumblebees buzzing between the stalks. It is the last time she will ever see the fields. News of her father’s death. They never got his body back. Eviction. The long journey to Senntisten on the back of an ox-cart.

Now the images become familiar. He tastes her memories of life in the shanties, her money-making schemes, her knowledge of the back-alley shortcuts and the best places to find discarded food. He feels her faith in Zaros and all her fears. He feels her hunger.

Finally, bitterly, he knows what her big news were, why she could not meet him that morning. She had scored a regular job as a crossing sweeper, and together with the money her mother earns at the great open-air laundry pens, it would be enough for half a room in an East Canalside. They wouldn’t be shanty-dwellers anymore.She had seen him pass by that evening, and could not wait until tomorrow to tell. So she had run after him, but suddenly decided to play with the big, grave Chthonian.

She follows him, ducking into the alleyway when he takes notice. He starts off again, and instead of trying to sneak up behind the demon (which wouldn’t really work), she climbs upon the scaffolding, walking right above with. She will get ahead of him, and jump down in front of him at the corner. He’s nearly underneath her. She crouches on the edge, preparing to leap.

03-Jan-2015 20:00:04

Laetitia

Laetitia

Posts: 66 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Suddenly, he stops. Landing on the frozen ground will sting. Can*t help. Sene*inusseems to be listening for something. Is she about to be found out? Can't let a good one go to waste. She jumps-

-And something surges out of his bulk towards her –nothing.

And she had been so proud of him. He had protected her.

Gone.
***

In the morning the guards –who treat him considerably more respectfully than they do the other cells’ human occupants –fetch him for a summary interrogation. The Captain doesn’t seem to think much of the whole incident, and eventually writes him a fine. He’s free to leave.

Unable to budge, Sene*inus begins to ask his own questions: Will there not be a trial? A blood-price? Consequences of any kind? As the hysterical Chthonian refuses to listen, the Captain finally gives in to his demands. He sends out two messengers, one to summon a judge and another to fetch the victim’s mother.

A few hours later they are all gathered around the same desk in the too-small office: The Captain, thoroughly confused, the teary demon, the bored Pontiff who doubles as a public notary (no judge could be bothered) and the mother, who has no idea why she has been brought to the guardhouse.

She sits hunched, bewildered by the situation. Her dress and shawl are threadbare, her hands coarse from work at the great public washing pens. Near-moronic from chronic undernourishment, she barely comprehends what the other three are telling her, and when the notary asks if she’d like to take Sene*inus to trial, she doesn’t understand the question. She’s almost panicking now, wanting for dear life to get out and away from guards, priests and demons. And as she finally flees, protesting any offers of help, he understands that the woman has long ago run out of strength to love her children, and the less trouble there is about what cannot be undone –another mouth less to feed –the better.

03-Jan-2015 20:01:07 - Last edited on 03-Jan-2015 20:11:28 by Laetitia

Laetitia

Laetitia

Posts: 66 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The human Pontiff is about to leave, then turns back to him. *I hope you understand”, he says, contempt dripping from every syllable, and “that had the mother made any demands, I would have had no choice but to arrest her. We would end up having to put half your people on trial. Needless to say, I hope that you have enough sense left to keep quiet about this.” He leaves, and Sene*inus has no choice but to heed the Captain’s dismissal.

Standing outside the guardhouse, he knows what the priest means. He knows where humans disappear to from the town guard’s cells and from the hutments. He knows why Rowena feared the night patrol and he knows what happened to the tinker’s son she used to play with. He has always known, but now he feels it.

***

After his third day of not showing up at work, a messenger is sent to his house. Sene*inus doesn’t answer the door.

A week later, a scroll bearing the personal seal of Atroxius is left at his door. He knows what it is and doesn’t care.

He wanders through the streets of Senntisten, bumping into people, scanning the crowds for a small ragged figure, or a flash of fair hair.

One day he’s wandering up a side-lane off Picus Street, when he stops at the entrance to a back alley. It takes a while before he realizes why he has come up here. He was going to ask if Sarah had an errand for her. She often does, and sometimes a slice of hot cake, or at least a bit of good gossip. As he stands there, looking into the dark alley, a door opens, and a human woman relearns out to empty a bucket outside. Suddenly he sees her, the great Chthonian framed between the walls. She freezes for a second, staring at him, then retreats fast and slams the door shut before Sene*inus can greet her by name.

03-Jan-2015 20:02:18 - Last edited on 03-Jan-2015 20:12:08 by Laetitia

Laetitia

Laetitia

Posts: 66 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
Dejected, he wanders towards home. The smell of bread from a bakery makes his mouths water, and only when he turns to enter the shop, he realizes he can*t consume anything sold there. He has become terrified of eating living beings, and his own hunger mixes with hers.

At Infernals’ Bridge he stops to watch barges drift down the Canal. The shanties have been razed once more, and the remains of the hutments smoulder in the winter night. A few of their former inhabitants pick through the debris, looking for their possessions, or perhaps bodies.

There are things you can't get back.

Rintra. As every day, guardsman Claudius Sergius traverses the Bridge of the Forgotten Infernals on his way to work at the western gate. The first of the slum-dwellers have returned, and huts are being erected on the Canal bank again. The snow is melting into slush, and a ragged children splash around in the meltwater. The only person on the bridge is a Chthonian who rests his formless bulk on the banister. As he passes by, its many eyes concentrate on him with an alarming intensity. There’s something hungry in its look, and Claudius picks up speed his speed until he’s safely on the other side. Back on solid ground, he turns to look over his shoulder. The Chthonian stands in the middle of the bridge, but still has its countless eyes fixed in him. As he looks on, it raises a tentacle and waves.

03-Jan-2015 20:02:35 - Last edited on 03-Jan-2015 20:12:38 by Laetitia

Laetitia

Laetitia

Posts: 66 Iron Posts by user Forum Profile RuneMetrics Profile
The End.
Comments and critique are welcome.

***************************************************************
Author's notes, again:
His name is supposed to be S-E-N-E-C-I-A-*-U-* Aloysius Pamphilius, but the auto-censorship does not think so.
The auto-censorship also seems to think there is something unseemly about the standard shortening of the words "can not". I don't know why.

03-Jan-2015 20:03:12 - Last edited on 03-Jan-2015 20:17:14 by Laetitia

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