Iron Kingdoms - 500 Fights

Potential Truths


Potential Truths
The girl looked down at her broken and bruised body and she was scared. She knew her life would soon be over one way or another and she couldn’t help but cry softly as the cold twisted knife of the Satyxis caressed her naked back. She kept repeating in her head her brother’s last words to her as she left for the Ditches;
“You don’t need to go, that place is cursed. For all we allowed the Orgoth to do, you know. You many never come back…..please don’t go. Please don’t go."
But she had to go. Four years studying under Addlesmith compelled her to take her work to The Dig. Two years of study could be over in one if she played her cards right and she would have been back home working as an adjunct professor. Now all that was for not as she was led toward death or worse; on a ship she only knew from childhood stories. Stories she thought were made up to scare her into minding her parents, stories now proven true.
As the ship rocked back and forth, she could smell blood and shit from those who were dismembered around her. People she knew and worked with. She could see their lifeless eyes looking up at her. It was hard to tell whose eyes held more despair, hers or theirs. She seemed to be begging them for a quick death as much as they were begging for the return of life. She knows she’s next. She knew the Saytixis was so frenzied and her only hope was she would be killed quickly. She cannot handle the same fate that met the others. The Saytixis would ask her a question she did not know, a question about those who killed seven of her own; the ones who would die for their heroics. The ones she must learn about. The girl, like the others, didn’t know who the Saytixis was talking about. At least not in any real detail as no one knew them; they just arrived to The Dig. As she began to faint from loss of blood and shock, all she could remember now was her boyfriend’s smile, her little sister sweet voice, her mother’s loving hugs and father’s smell. That would all be lost to her now. She had nothing; was nothing. She whispered a small prayer for it all to end quickly.
“Tell me child, why do you cry?”
The poor girl’s shaking drew her back from unconsciousness. She could barely look at the sea witch as her head felt like a rock. She only looked down at the sea stew that was the floor.
The Satyxis moved from one side of her prisoner to the other like the stalking predator she was; calmly even in the heavy seas. She liked this girl. She was brave and beautiful. She didn’t have the look of fear in her; only loss, regret. The Saytixis put her lips next to the girl and whispered “look at me girl, see me as I am. Naked and perfect with the storm in my control”
The girl was exhausted but something compelled her to look up. She saw the witch and was suddenly taken aback by her beauty, her raw, energized power. She began to see the witch for what she was. A smile began to from. Questions began to race to her mind and then pain as the witch’s blade across her breast.
“You look to long girl. Tell me, what you know of that place”
What? The place? What about the ones who would pay. What about the 3 heroes? Those who were the cause of the mounds of rotting flesh surrounding her. Her mind began to spiral. Then pain from a punch to her abdomen caused her to throw up. She couldn’t believe how powerful the witch was. How smooth and graceful her actions were. She was eerily beautiful.
“I will not ask again girl”
The girl, now reeling in pain from the last blow, began to talk as she found her feet beneath her and pulled herself up using the chains that dug into her wrists.
“The place”, she spat the words out clearing her mouth of vomit.
“The place is an Orgoth temple of some kind” She began to worry as she was not sure if it was a temple.
“Perhaps a small town at one time”, she shook but found comfort talking about something she knew.
“We’re not sure, sorry.”
The witch smiled. “I sense something in you girl, something I want. We shall have fun extracting it, I just know it”
The cries from the girl could be heard over the storm as the ship made its way back to home port. None who heard cared. None who heard made any attempt to change the fate of this poor girl; except the girl.



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