[RPG] [Atamara] [ASI] A series of unfortunate events...Riamh's Tale

[Kimberly Amthor]

"I'll see that the lady receives it." Aerlias accepts another missive
from a young lad who obliviously scampers off in search of his next
commission. In a perfunctory manner, Aerlias crosses the foyer,
ascends the stairs and pushes open a door leading into the darkened,
lonely master bedchamber. The only light shines from the hall to cast
itself upon a desk. The woman adds this most recent delivery to a pile
of already accumulated messages, scripts, orders and notes.

It was not uncommon for Riamh to disappear on spontaneous excursions
with no trace as to her whereabouts. What worried Aerlias was that
Riamh had never, during any of her travels, failed to provide for
those in her care. Her band of warriors had long since deserted...the
scribes and scouts and healers had all found paying employment
elsewhere...and Aerlias herself was running low on funds to continue
payment for their lodgings in Ser'quea. 'She was so excited about
coming to the Ashen Isles...'

Wherever Riamh went, it was certainly not voluntary...

---

Aerlias watches as the door to Riamh's most recently purchased abode
is secured by chain and padlock. She turns and descends the steps with
a mien of finality, stepping into the awaiting coach which had been
packed full with Riamh's more valuable belongings. All loose ends had
been tied the day prior; Riamh's debts settled and her bank account
closed, the tickets purchased for Aerlias and company to return to the
Far East, a letter sent to Duchess Katheryn explaining (in a rather
tight-lipped fashion) that Aerlias would be awaiting Riamh in their
old home in Athios.

"To the port, Vizitiu," she instructs the coachman, who immediately
snaps the horses into a trot.

She never ventured a backward glance.

---

Three weeks prior:

Riamh ducks into a side street, a shortcut back to the house...at
least, she thinks it is. But the cross street doesn't look familiar at
all. She glances about before turning around to backtrack. Someday,
when she's not so new to Ser'quea, she'll know the city like the back
of her hand. Today was not that day...

She stops dead in her tracks. There were eight of them. She'd never
seen them in such numbers, neither had she known them to embolden
themselves unto obstruction...they had normally just watched from
afar, or one would arrive with a missive from--why were they here? It
had been years since she had encountered one of Sadi's toys, his 'Play
Things' as he called them...these deformed, mutilated, tortured
people, subject to all forms of servile atrocities which made them
seem more animal than human...one could only imagine how their minds
had been perverted over the years. Sadi's mind was warped enough.

They're all muttering, as if to themselves. Her eyes narrow. "What
does he want now?" Riamh lashes out indignantly. She had ceased
carrying a concealed weapon on her person, but her past reputation for
slaughtering these .. creatures .. should not have been lost to them.
There was no reason to fear. They were inane beings, incapable of
making their own decisions, devoid of anything resembling a
soul...and--

--before Riamh could turn completely, there was a fierce impact to the
side of her head, then a powerful kick to her gut. Her head hit the
ground, hard...spots...blood. "A word with Riamh," was all she heard
before consciousness was consumed...