Ire the Carnal Eviscerator (16 years old)

Ire the Carnal Eviscerator
 
This journal details the account and research done by Mamnen Marduk, son of Amnon and Jone Marduk, Moon-brother to Atka and older brother to Vereella. In it I hope to discover what I can about the missing and devil family to the Marduk family on the side of Jone, after the murder of Amnon and recapture of Jone on the 27th night of Winter. As of the start of this journal, I am 14 years old and living in a small village farm under the watch of a dwarf monk named Helja Daerdahk. Soon, I will travel to Waterdeep to work in a blacksmithing shop to learn a trade while I research in their reputed library. I have already been in contact with their head historian of Angel and Demon, Devil, and God lore, Castiel. I don’t know what to expect when meeting him. He says he is deeply knowledgeable as he is incredibly old, well-read, and experienced. I am simply happy to have help.

I will not recount the events in this journal for fear of riling myself into a frenzy. It is still fresh in my mind. But the important details will most likely come to light as I learn more. For now, I will detail the two players needing research:
 
Jone
 
Ire
 
Why need I investigate my own mother? Her history has come into question in my eyes. I just found out that Ire, clearly a devil, is my half-uncle on the side of Jone. Jone had always shared stories of being a mercenary and taught me many things regarding how to fight melee and ranged with weapons (she left the hand-to-hand fighting to my father, who was less than finessed; I learned more from Helja). Just what would HER mother—who was Ire’s mother, so a devil, too—want her back for?
 
Which brings me to Ire… this was no unseasoned planeswalker. He did not just walk into my parent’s house without a fight, and there was hardly a struggle there. He ambushed them. Killed my father simply. Bound my mother. Talked to us briefly and walked the planes with her right before our eyes. I’m eager to find out more about the rest of my “family.”
 
I leave for Waterdeep and my new employer tomorrow morning. Helja is taking me since she is convinced that I will get hurt or lost. Unlikely, but I will appreciate the company.
 
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It is our first and only night of camping on the way to Waterdeep. Vereella is going to be living with me, apparently, because she isn’t cut out for farm living. It’ll be fine with her, I think. She wasn’t at home the night of the attack, so she shouldn’t be interested in my research. That and she is young yet—but ten years.
 
The travel has been good. Very wooded. No path. Reminds me of going hunting or something. I was expecting a trail at least, but Helja said the shortcuts are safer. My thoughts are excited. I have an appointment to see Castiel tomorrow afternoon, and because I don’t start work until next week, I’ll have time to dive into this research. I doubt I’ll be able to sleep tonight.
 
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I met with Castiel. Before I go into that blunder, he is an ANGEL. An actual angel. Well, I guess he’s fallen. Either way. I expected him to be prejudiced about how I looked, but he wasn’t. However, as soon as I mentioned the name Ire, he said that I was naïve, a joking child and that I shouldn’t have been wasting his time. Then he flew off from the library courtyard. I have no idea what he was getting on about, but it only further fuels my interest in this Ire, if the expert in the lore refuses to acknowledge or talk about him to me…
 
Tomorrow I’m going to go into the library and try to blind-search for some history. Or ask somebody in there, although now, I’m a little shy about doing that as I don’t want to get banned from the library or something.
 
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Name: Ire
 
Age: Unknown
 
Conquests: Many
 
Aliases: The Carnal Eviscerator, The Champion of Death, The Mild Assassin, Jester Dix, Mad Ire, Hyatt the Mumbler, The Nightmare, Reaper Scars, Gonomor, Zoken, Xollomud, Drirxaxon.
 
Contracts: Always lives in exchange for the soul. Will give gifts for a soul but prefers to torture for the soul to be willingly given—or released in the exchange for ten innocents, preferably child souls. Contracts are ruthless.
 
Family Name: MENNITH
 
Mennith is a ruling devil family in Hell. They are reputed for being one of the most ruthless and soul-profitable families. It is unknown how many devil figures make up this family, but Ire is a key player on this plane. Other players are Zur’in, Salros, and Aggal. The relationships they have between each other are unknown. It does not appear that devil familial systems are as close or built like tieflings, where father and mother head the household and the children learn and then disperse. It seems that devils work independently and mostly stay in Hell and influence the planes for their soul hunting. Ire’s reputation is an anomaly. He is well-known in Waterdeep due to the Eviscerating Conquest 40 years ago. Hundreds of dead at this devil’s hands.
 
The fact that I didn’t know that might be why I offended Castiel. Ire is probably the name he uses on this plane. The alias “Zoken” came up more under the family and it fits more into the Mennith naming pattern.
 
If my mother Jone is a half-sister to Ire, that means that she is partially devil and must fulfill the Mennith expectation: obtain souls for Hell. That is why Ire brought her back. It occurs to me now that my mother was never an altruistic mercenary for hire. She likely was grooming souls back to Hell until she found a life that she thought was better. She brought Dad and us into the risk of this world knowing full-well that they would come for her. And now, I stand here Dad-less, Mom-less, homeless.
 
My research is done for now. I have no interest in pursuing her at the moment. What I did know is this: devil worship is both present and frowned upon here in Waterdeep. I’m not about to continue asking questions and making a name for myself.
 
***
 
Atka shut the small, barely filled journal and stared up at the ceiling from her cot on Vereella’s bedroom floor. Vereella was sleeping soundly still after a great reunion was had between the sisters. Atka wasn’t able to sleep after getting the book, even after all the walking and no sleep during most of the night. Now she was wide awake thinking about Ire.
 
Oddly, she still wanted to approach the Ring Master about all of this. Why would a devil have a child with a tiefling at all? And why would this Mennith family, if they ruled so haughtily in Hell, want a half-blood to harbor souls for them? Besides, that look of horror on their mother’s face when Ire mentioned her mother and going back told her that Mamnen’s conclusions were probably…wrong. Or at the very least unfinished.
 
Yes, she would still see the Ring Master. Or maybe pick up where Mamnen left off and find this Castiel? Interesting idea. Talk to an angel who may know something about their devilish family tree? Atka smiled a bit. She liked Waterdeep already… and that was without having seen any of it during its bustling daylight hours. She rolled onto her side, imagined what it must be like to live in the center of a mansion designed for challenges, tricks, and riddles like the Ring Master was rumored to, and drifted off peacefully.
 
“Atka, are you ever getting up?”
 
But hadn’t she just closed her eyes? She rolled over on the cot, definitively away from the voice. No, not getting up. She began to feel the ache in her legs. No, don’t wake up. It’s not real if one does not wake up. Before long, she felt herself snore and it caused her to snuggle into herself to try again.
 
“Atka, seriously, it’s almost a second day—”
 
“Mammy knew I was sleeping two, Vereella,” she murmured without opening her eyes or moving. She heard feet walking away. Mamnen knew that, right? She had thought about that a lot, but had she ever actually told him? Didn’t matter. He was probably working, and it wasn’t like anyone was expecting her. Then she remembered the book, Ire, the Ring Master, and her eyes then shot open.
 
She still wasn’t going to move fast, but she decided that yes, she was getting up. She stretched her arms high above her head, twisting at the waist and thumping her curled tail. She rolled off the cot on bent knees and stood up. Atka yawned as if she hadn’t just slept a day and a half. Vereella’s room was tiny. A bed, a desk with candles, and a window. And now a cot. Mamnen must not make much to afford such a small place…
 
Atka walked out of the bedroom and weaved down the hallway that led to the bathroom or veered to the kitchen/living area. Is that where Mamnen slept? There were folded blankets and pillows on the small couch. Maybe Waterdeep wasn’t going to be so great—Wait, what was that noise? She heard… bustle. A cacophony of voices and noises that felt like it was right outside walls. Beelining for the window, she peered out and down, surprised to remember they were high up in the building. It must have been a main street of Waterdeep! Her eyes widened. She had never seen so many different races, so many in numerical value! It was just a swelling of activity. There were carts set up for sales of wares and food, there were carts and animals traveling. There wasn’t a spot on the street that was really “open.” How did people live like that?
 
Atka turned around and saw a table before her and a small plate of fruit, bread, and cheese and a note laid out for her. She picked up the note and read:
 
Atka –
 
Please don’t go to the Ring Master before talking to me about my research. I’ll be home before dark.
 
– Mammy
 
 
She set it back on the table and sighed, turning her ear to the noise to the street outside again. Atka was almost, ALMOST prepared to give in, because if Waterdeep had more than one road like that, how was she going to find the Ring Master? How did Mamnen find anything at fourteen? What is Vereella doing here at twelve? In regards again to Mamnen’s note, Atka didn’t want to see the Ring Master before talking to him anyway. There were a lot of questions she had.
 
So, she took a grape and a cube of cheese, tossed them into her mouth, and found her way back to the cot. Mamnen would wake her when he arrived, and she was not going to listen to that anxiety provoking city shit. She was asleep as her head hit the makeshift pillow out of spare blankets.
 
***
 
“Vereella is at any art show for the next few hours, so now is as good as any to talk about that research. Did you read it all?” Mamnen asked from his spot on the couch. Atka dropped beside him on the couch, nodding, but asked an unrelated question in return,
 
“Why is Vereella at an art show?”
 
“She’s a painter.”
 
“Why?” Atka knew she had no tact. She also knew she did not really treat or understand her sister all that well.
 
“Not everyone wants to be a glory seeker, I guess. She’s been bound for artisanship since she got here. And she’s good. Pays for this place.”
 
“This place is not great.”
 
“But it’s expensive. It’s in the heart of Waterdeep. It’s close to everything,” Mamnen explained, his eyes closing briefly. He folded his fingers between each other and brought his hands to his lips. “But that’s neither here nor there. What did you think?”
 
“About what exactly? What did you want me to take from that? That you’re an asshole who abandoned your love for mom simply because you think she actually partook in devilish activities,” Atka asked, and then continued before Mamnen could, “And even IF she did, did it ever occur to you that she would have had to at the threat of her or maybe even our lives, or by your own research’s admission of Ire’s method of operating—other innocent lives?”
 
“Are you suggesting that Mother is still the altruistic mercenary that she always touted she was? Seriously?”
 
“Seems just as likely as the fact that she might not be. The only way I’m going to find out is to go to the Ring Master, appeal to his ability to forgive devil contracts, and free mother.”
 
Mamnen was silent for a long, long time. His eyes bore into the abyss in front of his, his bluish skin was slightly singed pink in his anger. Atka knew to say nothing, but she couldn’t anticipate where he was, which worried her. They were twins. Usually she read him well. “Has it ever occurred to you, Atka, that she wasn’t under contract?” he whispered.
 
Haughtily, Atka wanted to scream at him in opposition, but instead a breath was stolen and caught in her throat. She released it and sunk into the couch, slouching, and hanging her head. “No, because I don’t want to.”
 
Mamnen rotated to face her on the cushion and placed a hand on her arched shoulder. “I didn’t either, but Atka, we weren’t even ten years old when this happened. We couldn’t begin to understand the subtle nuances of what happened that night, and now our trauma has tainted everything so much that perhaps we cannot see the entire story.” He paused and drew back his hand. “There’s a distinct possibility that the mother you find would not be the same we had here, or that she would even want to come back.”
 
“You don’t believe that. She loved us.”
 
“She loved making us ‘exceptional.’”
 
That breath phenomenon happened to Atka again when he used that word. Their mother had called all of her children ‘exceptional’ that night. Clearly, Mamnen had remembered and emphasized that too. On purpose. “You think she was grooming us for something?”
 
“Well, how about it?”
 
She was silent, looking around. Little bumps formed on her arms as she thought about that possibility. Devils scared her. Ire scared her. Up until two seconds ago, her mother did not scare her. She sort of changed the subject, “Did it bother you as much as it did me that in your research, he went for innocent children’s souls, but he had no interest in us?”
 
“No,” Mamnen said, “We’re family, so we’re not innocents.”
 
“How come you never followed up with Castiel?”
 
“Because of what I’m trying to tell you right now, devils don’t have families. Not really. Mother is gone because she is a devil, whether she’s happy about it or not, and we’d all be better off to just move on.” Mamnen drew his ankle onto the opposite knee and leaned into the back of the couch. He grabbed both of his small horns on his head. “I’m sorry, Atka. I know you still love her. But you ought not. It’ll get you killed. Nearly got me. Angelology, demonology and devilogy – Heavens, planeswalking, and Hell? They best stay at rest.”
 
Atka couldn’t help it. She hugged her goosebumped arms and wept. “I cannot believe you’re far gone from our family. I feel like you’re a devil right now—no familial system. Mom would’ve traveled the planes to find us and hurt anyone who dared to hurt us. She would take on the Ring Master, Castiel, a dragon, a demon, a devil, a GOD in a heartbeat, and you read a book about Ire the Carnal Eviscerator and your whole tone changes?” She sniffled and stood up. “Shame on you,” she whispered.
 
“You’re sentimental? Hormonal?”
 
“I’ll kill you if you write this sentiment off as hormones alone. It’s no more hormonal than the male hormones that made you side with the devil’s definition of true family roles—”
 
“I have not!”
 
“Everyone equal—no mother anymore. You referred to her more as ‘Jone’ in your journal. Her own identity. Very devilish, by your own admission.”
 
“Stop linking me to devils.”
 
“‘Well, how about it?’” she quoted, whipping around to face him. He rose slowly from the couch, took a step to stand horn to horn with her, granted he needed to bend over slightly as he was a foot taller, and his horns were a third the size of hers.
 
“Knock. It. Off.” Mamnen spoke through his clenched teeth. Atka turned her chin up and met his gaze.
 
“I will meet the Ring Master. And when I find Mom hurting, free her from her captives, I hope she sees how ‘unexceptional’ you truly have become in your trauma, Mamnen.” Then, she hissed loudly into his face, turning on her heels and stomping out of the flat, not knowing where to go, but knowing that if he could navigate the city at fourteen, she’d figure it out on her own at sixteen.