Deep in the bowels of Lassinda's fortress of Ostran-Tôr, a young elven maiden was strapped to an old , bloodstained oak-wood table. Her skin was pallid, her eyes wide with terror as the Imperial Magister approached with a wicked smile on her lips.
"You are a rare specimen, my poor dear," Lassinda mocked the idea of kindness with feigned watery eyes, running a curved embalming knife down the trembling girl's cheek. "I've been waiting for someone like you."
The maiden whimpered, tears streaming down her face as Lassinda began to chant in a language that was not meant for mortal-kind, feeling like nails driven into her ears. The room was filled with an eerie light as the air grew thick with the stench of rot and decay.
Suddenly, the maiden's body began to twist and contort, her limbs elongating into a grotesque and vague wolf-like shape. She let out a blood-curdling howl as her clothes ripped by the changing furless skin, ridden in dark green veins and patches of black rash and her teeth grew into long, sharp fangs.
Lassinda cackled with delight, revelling in the terror and pain of her victim. She continued her twisted incantations, her power growing stronger with each passing moment. The transformation was complete, and the changed maiden lay panting on the table, now an amalgamated form of elf and beast. Leaning in close, the Raven-Witch whispered in her ear.
"No Great Wheel waiting for you, my little pet," she hissed. "Hunt, hunt and kill, and bring me back the flesh of your kind. You belong to me now."
The hairless creature snarled, its moon-silvered eyes glowing with an unnatural light. It bounded out of the laboratory, eager to do its mistress's bidding. Lassinda watched the monster go, cackling maniacally in the rush of her dark creation. She was a master of the dark arts, a sorceress of the highest order, next to the Emperor himself. If life itself would not bow, then she would make it.
Cruelty was not just a means to an end for the Raven–Witch; it was a way of life.
Of all practitioners in the darkest of arts, few would dare consider rivalling Lassinda the Raven-Witch, a cruel and sadistic figure whose infamy has lasted for centuries. She was a master of the dark arts, and her twisted experiments and unspeakable practices have left an indelible mark on history. Surviving Imperial records reveal the full extent of her depravity, detailing the atrocities she committed against innocent beings in her hidden laboratories.
Lassinda's foremost laboratory in Ostran-Tôr was a place of unspeakable horrors. It was said to resemble a torture chamber more than a place of learning and research. Within its wailing walls, she conducted vile experiments on living creatures, twisting them into grotesque and monstrous forms. She derived sick pleasure from the suffering of others and would often spend hours on end torturing those unfortunate enough to find themselves in her grasp.
But it wasn't just physical torture that Lassinda inflicted on others. She was also a master manipulator, skilled in the art of “warfare on the mind”, as she herself once so eloquently put it. Her whispers were filled with venom, and she used them to sway even the most righteous of souls to her cause. She preyed on people's weaknesses and exploited them to further her own twisted desires.
Lassinda's cruelty knew no bounds, and she showed no mercy to anyone who dared to cross her. Her hatred for elvenkind was particularly great, and she went to great lengths to ensure that they suffered under her hand. She was known to capture and torture elves for weeks on end, often using them as test subjects for her twisted, magical experiments.
The witch was also well-versed in using her natural beauty and charm to lure unsuspecting victims into her grasp. Her eyes were cold and calculating, only slightly betraying the malevolent spirit that lurked beneath the surface. Lassinda drew unspeakable power from her son, the then Dread Emperor, using it to twist and manipulate those enemies considered beyond her reach.
But as the Dread Emperor was defeated at last and the Imperial Age ended, Lassinda's truer nature scorched through the surface of her once smooth skin. Her appearance deteriorated appropriately for the countless sins carried in her dark spirit. Ridden with disease and accompanied by swarms of insects, yet her power remained great; even close to that of the greatest elven mages and nobles. Despite being fittingly malformed, Lassinda never let herself be humbled by the "lesser creatures," an ironic statement from an Imperial Magister Regent to a cavern-skulking hag. She remained proud of her wickedness and prolonged her mortal life by any unspeakable means, waiting for the return of her profane son.
Many centuries now passed and still, the legacy of the Raven-Witch endures. Twisted experiments and plague-spreading spirits continue to haunt the land, and her name strikes fear into the hearts of those who dare to speak it.
It is widely accepted and spoken as a fact by the House of Alderlynne, that Lassinda was defeated in a fierce duel at the highest peaks of the Carrion Fells by the then matriarch of their House, where her haunting shrieks are said to still echo before encroaching storms. Other stories claim that she succumbed to disease and decay, neglecting her life-prolonging rituals, at last meeting her long-overdue demise.
But other, more disturbing rumours have recently been whispered, hinting at Lassinda's possible... survival. Several western-based covens, previously thought to be at bloody odds with each other, are said to be guided by missives marked by a black hand crowned with crooked talons, a symbol that is chillingly reminiscent of the feared Raven-Witch.
Whether these rumours are true or not remains to be seen. But one thing is certain: the darkness that Lassinda unleashed upon the land still lingers, and that evil mark will continue to be felt for Ages to come.
.png)
No comments:
Post a Comment