McIan
Journeyman
Deminatza paced the floor of the small room of the palatial mansion which was more a prison than home to her. She dreaded the arrival of her captor, Torak. He left frequently for long periods to conduct his business in places he would never divulge. She assumed he had women stashed about but that was not her chief concern. What she did care about was that he would return, play the hypocrite with her emotions, and, if he could, try to court her once again. She would, as always, resist that determinedly. In the end he would fume but relent and leave her be. For some bizarre reason he wanted her love for him to be genuine, though deep down in his heart he must have known that it could never be. Her love, her life, was for a man named Scaramandine, Scar for short. How she loved and missed him; her fiance' and the father of their one child, Chasity.
It was Chasity that kept her here against her wishes, not to mention the wards and guardians he posted all about outside. Chasity was very young, not even in her teens. She lived in Yew with another of Torak's minions, an elderly woman and a man named simply Father Balzar, a druidic priest. Torak paid both well to raise her and make sure she was watched and guarded. Occasionally, just to keep Deminatza from becoming depressed, Torak allowed them to get together in Yew but only under the strictest supervision by his minions. Deminatza never knew exactly how many he had or who they all were, but she knew they would be about, at all times, watching their every move and eavesdropping on every conversation. For her part, Chasity seemed to accept it all; her mother had to be away "for her health" as she had some kind of disease that required a "different atmosphere" in which to live and she could not be effective as a mother in the rearing of a child in such conditions - that was the official story. Deminatza had to accept it and enjoy what time she could with her daughter; the only tangible connection between her and her love, Scar.
It was not that Deminatza had not tried to escape innumerable times. She had, and each time she failed miserably. She had no spell book, scrolls, or reagents, no access to any. All doors were locked from the outside and the windows were too narrow to climb out even if they were not barred. She did, however, have her hiding places for objects she needed to record her day-to-day experiences; a journal, hidden in a large crack in the first story floor concealed beneath a marble slab and large rug. Torak never searched inside. He was too smug in his own pride and arrogance to believe she could get away from him. This day's morning entry read:
"Torak will be arriving today, likely this evening. The journey from the other facet, as he calls it, takes time and wears one out drastically. His coming, however, does signal that I will get to see my daughter again for a few days. This keeps me sane. I must put on a good face and show for her sake. She must never know the depths of despair into which I sink from time to time. I must be strong for her. I must believe that one day we will be free and together again, with Scar, whom I have taken as my husband despite the officiality of a formal wedding ceremony. We will enjoy the life we wanted, away from these terrible people who have no conscience. I will try once more to tell Torak that I do not love him nor ever will I. He still clings to the belief that we can be what we talked about in our naivete' as children: to wed as husband and wife. I do not know what happened to him to make him so evil but he is not the same person he was long ago. I must stop now and will record later what transpired this time." She closed the book and returned both it, her pen, and inkwell, into the small box, carefully hiding it once more.
It was Chasity that kept her here against her wishes, not to mention the wards and guardians he posted all about outside. Chasity was very young, not even in her teens. She lived in Yew with another of Torak's minions, an elderly woman and a man named simply Father Balzar, a druidic priest. Torak paid both well to raise her and make sure she was watched and guarded. Occasionally, just to keep Deminatza from becoming depressed, Torak allowed them to get together in Yew but only under the strictest supervision by his minions. Deminatza never knew exactly how many he had or who they all were, but she knew they would be about, at all times, watching their every move and eavesdropping on every conversation. For her part, Chasity seemed to accept it all; her mother had to be away "for her health" as she had some kind of disease that required a "different atmosphere" in which to live and she could not be effective as a mother in the rearing of a child in such conditions - that was the official story. Deminatza had to accept it and enjoy what time she could with her daughter; the only tangible connection between her and her love, Scar.
It was not that Deminatza had not tried to escape innumerable times. She had, and each time she failed miserably. She had no spell book, scrolls, or reagents, no access to any. All doors were locked from the outside and the windows were too narrow to climb out even if they were not barred. She did, however, have her hiding places for objects she needed to record her day-to-day experiences; a journal, hidden in a large crack in the first story floor concealed beneath a marble slab and large rug. Torak never searched inside. He was too smug in his own pride and arrogance to believe she could get away from him. This day's morning entry read:
"Torak will be arriving today, likely this evening. The journey from the other facet, as he calls it, takes time and wears one out drastically. His coming, however, does signal that I will get to see my daughter again for a few days. This keeps me sane. I must put on a good face and show for her sake. She must never know the depths of despair into which I sink from time to time. I must be strong for her. I must believe that one day we will be free and together again, with Scar, whom I have taken as my husband despite the officiality of a formal wedding ceremony. We will enjoy the life we wanted, away from these terrible people who have no conscience. I will try once more to tell Torak that I do not love him nor ever will I. He still clings to the belief that we can be what we talked about in our naivete' as children: to wed as husband and wife. I do not know what happened to him to make him so evil but he is not the same person he was long ago. I must stop now and will record later what transpired this time." She closed the book and returned both it, her pen, and inkwell, into the small box, carefully hiding it once more.