Quinn Memoir Excerpt

Written 1/24/22

Greetings! If you’ve found this memoir that the warforged called Quinque ex Tellus, or Quinn for shorthand, you can assume that the worst has happened. Well, second to worse - I’ve learnt personally that there’s far worse endings to tales than most would think.
Things would have started in 3445, when a daughter was borne to the Mekhi family here in Aeris. Yes, this very same Aeris that I would one day return to - purposefully, of course. This young daughter of the Mekhi family was named Ankhthelia, a name that contained a blessing all on it’s own. Those close to me called me Thalia. I was borne on the 29th of Villas, at the last waning days and nights of summer. Among tieflings, being borne in the warmer months is taken as a sign of a bright and joyous personality - and me being born during one of the hottest dog days was just icing on the cake.
My early years were spent with various tutors, as my family was particularly focused on making sure I put up a perfect front. I was an only child, so much of the family's future success would be riding on me. I particularly enjoyed any horseback lessons, although as a young child they were moreso pony back sessions. Either way, I was given a full course load before I ever stepped foot in the public education of Aeris. Before that happened though, my family brought a moon elf into the house. I didn’t know it at the time, but his family had passed away the day before. He was relatively shell shocked, and I did my best to make him feel welcomed. I came to learn, many years later, that his parents had died traveling to our town - they were acousted by bandits on their way to our town for a new life.
We joined schooling then, and thanks to my tutoring things went well - many families can’t teach their children to read and write at an early age, so I enjoyed any extra leisure time granted during the first year. Just as well, because my family owned an estate outside of town. We would visit for the summers, wanting to get away from the stench of the town in the heat. Aeris hadn’t quite become a boom town yet - although the gold mining was becoming more and more prolific, attracting new workers from far off. Some called it a gold rush! It was a very exciting, yet busy time for my family. Some sort of family secret for gold detection that had my parents leading any mining efforts, even though after I was born they never got their hands dirty. I remember some of their favorite business partners visiting during summer, the Sol’s. I don’t remember much - I was only around 8 at the time - but I could never forget their cheerful demeanor, or how long they would spend conversing over drinks and card games. Planning the perfect business deal was always a strange balancing game, but somehow they made it work. Many others stopped by - families that either were previously known, or came to become known as the Nobility of Aeris.
As tieflings went, my family was very devout. A common misconception places followers of Asmodeus as evil, but that is far from the truth. Rather, we believe that once our souls have passed the material plane, they join the eternal fight of the Abyss against the forces of demons that seek to destroy this world. Either way, Sylthiel and I were fairly devout - hard not to be with daily prayers. There were several ceremonial dances that we had to learn, and even more traditions on top of that. How to pour tea, curtesy, feather a fan against the face, jewelry norms, and mountains upon mountains of etiquette. Tieflings were inherently mistrusted - and I made it part of my life’s mission to work against that.
Back to schooling, I found myself always on edge around classmates. There was always a strange divide that could never be bridged, always keeping the other past arms reach. I spoke common, but Infernal was always gracing my tongue - a habit I’ve found hard to break, even after all these years. The only one who understood my cursing in class was Sylthiel - but he wouldn’t ever call me out publicly for that.
After class, it was back to etiquette - Sylthiel was lucky, in that he mostly attended combat lessons. He told me he intended to become a paladin, wanting to protect those around him from passing wrongfully like his family. He wouldn’t become oathsworne for many years, but there was never a better day than when he did.
My family hired mages from far off lands - installing special protections and spells tied to our very souls. Only we could enter, and certain others as we saw fit - grasped hands and a “May your soul be blessed” spoken was enough to add someone to the magic. There was matching enchantments on each house, although my family paid extra care on the estate. This all happened around my 15 birthday, and I didn’t pay it much mind. They also installed a secret tunnel then - that would bridge the two, and had enough enchantments woven in to shield a whole town in its own right!
How ironic.
Anyways,
I continued on, mixing public and private studies. The years crept onwards, and eventually it came to be my twentieth birthday. It was my official coming of age party, although I wouldn’t inherit the business quite yet. Officially, I was assigned to the industrial district - overseeing a project in the castles new wing. It didn’t require much work though, and I ended up spending more time involved in family matters.
Back to the night of the party.
You’d be hard pressed to find something more lavish and overdone, truly. I fulfilled my social dues, but preferred to stick to the walls and the card room as much as possible. After a particularly lucky hand, I excused myself from the card room and went straight to the drink table. On the way, I noticed my parents talking with a strangely dressed man. He wore a plain white coat, emblazoned with dark markings similar to that of the skeletal system. He was hunched, hands drawn towards his front and anxiously rubbing. I didn’t recognize him from the town, but my parents called me over and introduced us. He was Dr. Ossa, and he was visiting my family for business reasons. He was originally from Extarsi. A small town that was renowned for its academic prowess. He had traveled alone, he said, not needing a guard despite the two week travel between his town and ours.
I was dismissed, and walked away from the festival hall that had been rented and catered for the event. I had plans to meet with Sylthiel an hour before midnight, and knowing the gravity of the plans I would’ve sooner died than be late. As a Cleric, I had already underwent my Oaths. For a Paladin, they take their Oaths later on, from a Cleric of the same order.
As mutual followers of Asmodeus, I was a clear pick. As he was taking the Oath of Conquest, the Tenets of his Oath had to be directly seared onto the skin of his shoulder. He already had a fire built, and a ceremonial dagger he handed to me as I approached.
With a quick thaumaturgy the flames brightened and shifted, switching from red flames to a deep azure. I removed the ceremonial dagger from its sheath, inspecting the make. Once I was satisfied, I held the blade into the fire, unphased by the flames that flicked around my hand. I remember what I said then very clearly -
“Tell me your Tenets.”
And as he stated each, I raised the heated blade and painstakingly wrote each one.
The pain was apparent and clear with each stroke of the letter, and he bore it for the entire long process. Once it was finally concluded, I returned the dagger to him. I understood to him how important this was, and his dedication to ensuring that what happened to his parents - the bandit attack - wouldn’t happen to anyone close to him again.
Dr. Ossa stayed the night at the town house, and sat as awkwardly at the breakfast table as he had stood at the party. He dug into his quail breast hastily, completely disregarding any proper norms. My parents were unfazed, and they kept discussing plans for a project. From what I gathered, it was already quite underway with many successful results. They kept bouncing between languages, flitting around their points like moths dancing around a flame. I dismissed myself as soon as I had finished, and scampered away like a mouse under the eye of a hungry cat.
I came to learn that he stayed out at my families estate occasionally, and my parents would leave for weeks at a time to continue project discussions.
Two years passed in a blur, and a week before my 22nd birthday I intercepted a note. The script was in code, but I spent hours deciphering it. Unfortunately, it was exactly what I feared. I raced away before a performance then, leaving the stage lights behind out of necessity. I didn’t tell anyone, not even Sylthiel of where I was going. I couldn’t risk it.
Extarsi was two weeks away, and I was grateful for my clerical skills giving me the ability to travel on my own so lightly. I prayed each morning and night that things could be remedied, for I feared the worst.
Based upon my knowledge, the Mekhi family planned on using a specialized group of weapons against the Aeris king and queen. But they didn’t plan on making things quick or easy. They wanted to cavort in the shadows, and wouldn’t mind trampling potentially hundreds of lives in the way to make their unbeatable army. I feared the worst, and I suppose that is what I got.
Once I got to Extarsi, I rented a tavern room and quickly passed out. The bed was made of hay and canvas, a far cry from what I was used to. But it felt like a down bed after sleeping on bedrolls out in the woods.
The next morning, I strode downstairs after freshening up. The town had little food sources, so I ordered some plain bread and a light wine. It wasn’t until my head hit the table after eating the bread that something clicked as being not quite right. I was an outsider to the town. And I wouldn’t be missed.
I awoke some time later in a dark room, so dark that only magic could create that kind of emptiness. I couldn’t discern the walls around me until I felt them, hands grazing over the cold stones. The air had a heavy chill, one that permeated through the lungs deep into each part of the body. I wanted to shiver, but when I felt my skin it wasn’t freezing. It was a magic chill then, meant to weaken opponents.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and I turned my head in their direction in a foolish attempt to see. No light peered inside, but I recognized the shuffling and conniving voice that spoke.
“Another new patient…” he hissed, the words coming from him like the venom of a cobra poised and ready to strike.
I didn’t hesitate, striking my hand forward when I sensed he was in range. He shrieked as dark necromatic energy swirled around him, burning away bits of his flesh where I struck his face. The attack had illuminated the darkness, and as he reeled backwards I saw his deformed glare staring me down. His skull was now exposed, revealing a dark ruby inlaid where his left eye socket was. His other eye was twisted shut, tears brimming down his face. I focused more magic, illuminating the room around him as best as I could.
Past the bars I had just struck out within, a steel operating table laid plainly in the center of the floor. It cast a sickening gleam around the room as it reflected light, casting dread down into my stomach. The man lurched, staggering backwards until he sat at the edge of the table. He held his face where the flesh had melted, eyebrows furrowed as he raised his head to stare at me.
Momentarily, his brows twitched in a symbol of recognition. It was mutual then, and a low chuckle fell from his mouth before it turned into more of a gargle as the energy seeped further down his neck.
“Of course you’d show up, meddling in my research” was spat out before he coughed, grasping lower down his throat now.
“You’re disgusting” was all I retorted, edged on by fear but holding steady.
He chuckled then, with the sound of blood in his throat causing more gargling. I maintained the dim lighting around him, jagged edges and shimmering ruby encompassing his face. He spoke again, “At least your family didn’t send you here. You’re marked to be the next addition to our Tellus program.”
Freak. I thought, and he met my eyes again to speak. “Of course I am. And soon, you’ll be too. Too bad none of our forged retain their memories.” He pauses then, contemplative. “But with all of the soul enchantments your folks use, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ll be forever cursed with remembering a previous life. I’ll need the workers to keep a close eye on you.”
With that, he grabbed an implement from underneath the table. It was like a four pointed dagger, mixed with glass into a center tube. He held it delicately, like it was a delicate instrument rather than a weapon. I went to back up, before finding that the cell was immensely narrow. I had enough room to have stood up earlier, but there was no room remaining. Almost as if the magicked bars had been pushed inwards.
Dr. Ossa turned the blade as he approached, and the last thing I remember before the piercing pain of the modified dagger in my torso was more laughter echoing from the mass of bone and rotten flesh before me.