RP:Maggie the Magpie

Part of the Once Upon a Midnight Dreary Arc

Summary: Quintessa and Meri attempt to gain insights as to where the cursed saddle might have been acquired from.

The Misshapen Fortress

Quintessa || Deep in the recesses of the Misshapen Fortress Quintessa, the Shield of Vailkrin’s eastern front, houses a prisoner linked to a string of kidnappings and disappearances ranging from Cenril to Rynvale. This woman was none other than Captain Morgan of the Golden Rose, or perhaps ‘former captain’ was more accurate now that her ship was in possession of Leoxander. She had single-handedly fueled the slave trade by covertly kidnapping citizens of coastal cities using a cursed object, a magical saddle that transformed a humanoid into a horse when strapped to their back. Along with the help of Meri, Rilla, Lanara, Penelope, Leoxander, and Eleanor, Quintessa was able to put an end to this trafficking operation and seize the mysterious artifact for further study. While the object remained safely inside of the Black Spire awaiting further study from the Necromancer’s Guild, Provectus Malus Quintessa, the head of researching the magic saddle, had the former Captain Morgan brought up from the dungeons in chains to await questioning in the countess’s torture chamber.

Quintessa || By the time Captain Morgan was placed in this room to be interrogated, she had already been psychologically terrorized by the wails of the countess’s other prisoners in cells somewhere in her pitchblack dungeon. Had already been preyed upon by Quintessa’s student Kanna, who until recently had free reign to eat any of the living prisoners she so desired. Her bright blue eyes peering down with an unnerving smile to accompany had been bored into her memory to the point when Quintessa’s vampiric pikemen came to get her she was grateful to be out of that darkness before the turnkey allowed Kanna to finally devour her. This thankfulness was short-lived when Morgan found herself before the woman who captured her, a set of mithril tools placed neatly upon a table outside of her cell. Quintessa turned a sharp hook in her lithe fingers slowly, awaiting her partner in this deed tonight, the lycan Meri and the changeling’s adopted aunt. She should have received the countess’s missive by now, asking if she’d want to join her in extracting information from Captain Morgan. Once she arrived, the fun could begin.

Meri did not need to be asked twice to participate in this gruesome mission. Torture was not an activity that the lycan often participates in but given the subject they were looking to torture, Meri felt next to nothing when it came to guilt or remorse. The blonde would show up, as asked. It has been a long time since the blonde has found reason to visit Vailkrin but it is quite fitting that the first place she visits is the fortress that her adopted niece calls her own. Quintessa would not hear it, but before Meri enters the fortress the blonde releases low whistle to signal that she’s impressed with the changeling’s chosen home and then she would show herself in. Knocking were for strangers or for the well-mannered, and Meri would be the first to admit that she did not believe she fit either of those definitions. While the blonde was brazen enough to just waltz right through the front door, she would not aimlessly wander the halls in search of Quintessa. If Quintessa was not immediately within sight, then she would flag down the first person that she sees and ask that they lead her to Quintessa, using the missive as proof that she was supposed to be here. One way or another, Meri and Quintessa would find each other and a grim smile would pull at Meri’s lips the moment she spots her niece, “I hear we’re angling to have a bit of fun tonight? How is our dear Captain friend faring currently?” Meri has dressed for the occasion, black was the color of choice for the night so that any blood stains said clothing might collect would not be readily noticeable. Not that she cared too much, but she did try and hold up the public image that she was a relatively lawful individual. Only those close to her knew better than to fall for this ruse.

Quintessa's guards and retainers knew beforehand to expect Meri, so when she made her way from the south they only gave disinterested glances, allowing the woman to have free reign in this area since she wasn’t regarded as a threat or person of suspicion, and when one of her vessels, Stewardess Saorsa Cladach, was flagged down and questioned about the changeling’s whereabouts, the redhead inhaled slowly and lead the blonde to the torture chamber. Miss Cladach, a vampire from a time when Catal still existed, still carried an air of nobility and turned her nose up at such brutish things like torture. She had pleaded fruitlessly with her mistress, trying to convince her that Captain Morgan would only say what she thought Quintessa wanted to hear, that any information gained this way would be faulty, but the young countess wouldn’t listen. “This isn’t just for information.” Quintessa told her, a shark-like grin being the only thing Saorsa needed to see to not question her any longer. Silently, the Stewardess opened the door for Meri, showing her the dank stairway that led deeper into Quintessa’s laboratory/holding cell for prisoners she used for experimentation. Today it was being used for something a bit more grim. “Go stuff yourself!” cursed Morgan from inside the cell, answering Meri before Quintessa had the chance. The pirate’s hands were cuffed above her head, allowing her feet only just enough room to touch her toes to the floor. “You’re here~” Quintessa said to Meri, turning away from her table of goodies to face her aunt with the cheeriest expression she had held for some time. The changeling also was dressed in black- her stained necromancer’s robes that still had the bloody hand prints of prisoners long dead. “Yes, yes, much fun to be had. I don’t think our guest here quite understands the predicament she’s gotten herself into, but we’re going to give her a hint.” Quintessa put down her hook in exchange for a flaying knife, allowing the reflection of the mage lights to reflect in Morgan’s direction. The former captain spat at them, “Do what you want! I’m not telling you jack!”

Meri arrives within the room just in time to hear the Captain telling Quintessa to go stuff herself. “Actually, I think it is going to be the other way around. We are going to stuff you…” The blonde answers with a practiced smile. “Unless. You make us really happy with the answers that you give us….” All smiles aside, that last point could very well be a lie, especially with the mood that Meri was in. Meri winces when Quintessa picks up the flaying knife. The reaction was again not one of guilt, she was just being dramatic and trying to emphasize to Captain Morgan how much that knife was bound to hurt. Especially in the hands of someone like Quintessa. Meri directs her attention to the table of goodies while her words shift from the prisoner to her niece, “I don’t think she understands either. That’s fine. She will soon.” As these words are spoken, Meri makes a show out of examining each and everyone one of the tools that Quintessa has laid out. Torture was not just inflicting extreme amount of pain on a person, there was a certain psychological aspect to it as well. Meri was attempting to play to that, by showing the Captain every object that could potentially be used against her. It should be noted though, that Meri is not actually picking up these instruments by hand. She is using her telekinetic abilities so that each one levitates off the table one by one and hangs suspended in the air for a few moments before the psion sets her sights on the next instrument. “If only...I could make up my mind as to which one I wanted to start off with.” Meri hmmms to herself, in no rush to commit to anything. Not yet. While her previous sentiments were rhetorical and directed and no one in particular, this next sentence is geared straight for Quintessa, “So what exactly is it that you are hoping that our dear friend is going to tell you?” After a thorough examination of every device Quintessa has to pick from, Meri gravitates back to a pair of crocodile shears. Yum.

Quintessa || Captain Morgan only growled at the two women, trying to show that she would remain defiant even in the face of horrible torture, but her composure ebbed slightly when she saw Meri lifting up tools aided by her psychic powers. Her sour expression faded until Quintessa opened the barred door to her cell, struggling helplessly against her constraints as the changeling drew closer. “Shh, shh, shhhhhh.” The changeling hushed the pirate captain, steadying her swinging body with her free hand, the flaying knife still at her side. “You’re going to tell us how the saddle works. It has transfiguration powers, not something a second rate slaver would know how to use. Did you make it?” There was a crazed gleam in Quintessa mismatched eyes as she raised the knife to her victim’s chest. Morgan froze for a moment, her eyes focusing on the blade she honestly wasn’t looking forward to feeling the bite of. “I don’t know how it works,” she slowly said, “I found it.” Quintessa reacted swiftly, turning the blade around and smacking Morgan in the midsection with the grip. “Liar.” Quintessa claims over the sound of Morgan coughing, trying to catch her breath, moving away from her to lean against the bars of her cell. “I’ve read your magical aura- or lack thereof. Do you really expect me to believe a scurvy cur like yourself found this saddle and figured out who to use it on your own?” Quintessa waited until Morgan stopped panting before speaking again, finding amusement in the venomous glare she was getting from the slaver. “Where did you get the magic saddle?” A moment of silence fell through the room. Morgan didn’t want to speak again. With a cruel smirk, Quintessa gazed back at Meri. “Care to ask her yourself?”

Meri :: While Quintessa begins the attempt to loosen the Captain’s resolve, starting off light with a blow to the stomach that would deal no lasting damage, Meri was busy looking for a source of heat. What was a torture session if at least one of the tools was not heated to the point that the metal turns red? We’re just going to assume Meri was able to locate said heat source with relative ease, and that it was obviously not within the prisoners cell. Crocodile shears are stuck into embers until Quintessa invites Meri to question Morgan herself. “Absolutely,” comes Meri’s smooth reply, pulling the now ominously glowing shears out of the flames and slowly meandering into the cell. “All you are doing is prolonging the inevitable,” Meri points out during her approach, slowly circling Morgan. As she moves around the Captain, Meri makes a point of bringing the searing hot shears close to various parts of the Captain’s body. Morgan would be able to feel a tempered taste of the heat, but the metal is not actually pressed against her skin. Yet. “I wouldn’t recommend lying to us either. I think we,” she motions toward Tessa via those glowing red shears, “both have quite the talent for figuring out when we are being lied to…” The blonde trains her eyes back on Morgan one more time, issuing a smile. “So I will ask you myself. Where did you get the magic saddle…?” As Morgan has already lied to them once, Meri issues a warning of what should happen if this trend continues. Those shears are pressed against Morgan’s person, specifically the heated metal connects snuggly with the backside of Morgan’s knee and it will remain there for a good several seconds, long enough to leave a significant burn that would cause walking to be more than a little uncomfortable. If Morgan makes it through tonight. “Lie again and next time will be worse.”

Quintessa folds her arms across her chest, allowing the flaying knife to tap against her arm gently as she watches Meri approach with her heated shears. “Oooh, this is going to hurt.” She muses playfully from her position next to the door, her smirk growing into a sinister grin. Morgan on the other hand was breathing shallowly, the fear she was holding back starting to break through as the red hot metal neared her vulnerable flesh. She tensed each time the crocodile shears neared her, trying to prepare herself from the pain that she knew was to come but nothing could prevent the painful hiss that evolved into a scream when the heat seared her flesh like a porterhouse steak. She grinds her teeth at the lingering pain, shooting Meri a look of hatred as she breathed heavily once more. She almost cursed at her, but she didn’t want to feel the sting of the heated metal again so soon so she hesitated. Quintessa, growing inpatient, parted her lips to speak. “Maybe she needs another ta-” “No!” shouts Morgan, cutting the changeling off. “I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you… I bought them from a traveling merchant.” Quintessa pushes herself away from the bars to cross the distance, her blade lifting up her chin to look at her. “I’m telling you the truth!” The countess of the Dark Forest stared at the former captain in silence before she spoke again. “I believe you, but I’m not sure if my companion does.” Quintessa looks to Meri with another smirk. “What do you think of the ‘traveling merchant’ story?”

Meri snaps the shears open and closed a few times as she considers this story. The heat held within the metal was slowly starting to fade, the red glow steadily turning back to black. It would still take a considerable amount of time for the crocodile shears to go back to the ambient room temperature, so Meri still had plenty of time to work with. “Seems like a convenient story to me…” Meri mutters, more than content to let Morgan think that she did not entirely believe this story. “A bit lacking in details too, which makes me think that it’s a lie. A traveling merchant, you say? Did they give a name? Male? Female? What location were they selling their wares out of? How long ago did you make this transaction?” The tattooed blonde was still angling to intimidate, not wanting to lose the upper hand they currently had on this. Thus as Meri hit the Captain with all of these questions, demanding she expand upon the detail, she kept circling around the woman. Quintessa had the shark-like grin, while Meri sought to mimic their more predatory behaviors. She was surprised the Captain seemed to cave so easily. Then again, it could all be a lie. Meri knew this, they had know way of knowing if the information was true...until they were actually knocking on someone’s front door, so to speak. It was the nature of the game, Meri herself would probably weave up an entire web of lies just to waste the time of her capture’s were she ever put in such a situation. In the end, when it was all said and done, it was not going to matter what answers Morgan gave. Not to Meri, maybe Quintessa would see fit to show the Captain some mercy.

Quintessa traces the blade slowly down Morgan’s body, allowing the tip to press into her flesh but not enough to actually penetrate her. “I don’t frakking know who she was!” The captain hisses, trying to pull her face away from looking at Quintessa. She didn’t know she had let slip that bit of information, that this so-called merchant was a woman, but she also had no reason to protect her either. “You better do better than that.” Quintessa responded, letting the blade slash back upward across her stomach- a superficial wound but a painful one. “I don’t remember!” Morgan growls against the sting of the changeling’s blade, blood slowly dripping down her legs, but she didn’t divulge any more information. Quintessa moves her blade back up to deliver a deeper injury, but she stops herself, lowering the knife and backing away. “Then my friend will jog your memory.” With a simple nod to Meri she gave her the go ahead to turn the heat up again.

Meri  :: “Tsk, tsk,” says Meri. The psion would indeed jog her memory and she was going to take pleasure in doing so. Should Meri feel some amount of shame that she was enjoying this moment so much? Probably, most reasonable people would but given the company Meri is prone to keeping there is no way she fits this definition. Meri comes to stand directly in front of Captain Morgan, turning up the heat indeed. The still hot shears find their way to the flesh of Morgan’s neck where they will linger before Meri decides to trail the burning metal down Morgan’s collarbone and toward her stomach area. The end goal was going to be that wound that Quintessa just created. It might seem like maybe Meri was doing Morgan a favor by pressing the searing metal against this fresh wound, it was a common way to stop severe bleeding. Cauterizing the wound would really only give the two women more of a chance to have a conversation with Morgan while also inflicting an uncomfortable amount of pain on the slave trader. There was a reason that people often used a bite in these situations. Once Meri was satisfied with the amount of pain inflicted, she pulls the shears away and takes a step back to give Tessa some room to take over again. As she steps away, another sweet smile curves at Meri’s red lips. “All you have to do is tell us what we want to know. It’s very simple really. The more you lie? The more I will make it hurt.” At this point, Meri turns away from the two completely and steps out of the cell but not out of sight. Naw, she was just going to return those shears to the embers, as if trying to make the point that she could do this all night. During the time it takes for the shears to reclaim some of their lost heat, Meri is inspecting the table of various torture devices. Poor Morgan would be left to wonder what the psion is going to decide to use next. Would she go back to the shears? They have been quite effective so far. Or….Maybe…

Quintessa exited the cell as Meri took her place before her, running her hands across all of her prepared tools as she figured out which one she would use next. The pear of anguish? No, she needed to be able to talk. The Iron Spider? That might make her bleed out… “Ah ha!” Quintessa lifted up her thumb screw. This would work nicely. Meanwhile Meri got to work on Morgan, her voice howling out as the hot metal sizzled against her flesh. As soon as the lycan finished Quintessa was there to take over, moving behind the former captain to place the vice-like torture device over her fingers. “Now,” Quintessa gave the instrument a screw, the metal plates closing together slowly to crush her digits. “Details.” Another twist. “I’m not going to ask nicely again.” Morgan was still seeing white by the time she realized what her captor was doing, the red hot pain keeping her from falling unconscious. That would have been a mercy at this point, but Quintessa and Meri had been careful not to inflict enough damage to kill her… yet. “She had a cart.” Came Morgan’s voice, strained as she still continued to hide the pain all three of the women knew she was feeling. “In Cenril…” The changeling gave a third twist to her device, Morgan groaning in pain as her fingers threatened to give way to the steel plates. “A cart, so she had more artifacts for sale?” Morgan swallowed hard before continuing. “Yes! Amulets that animated weapons- Daggers that whistled- Bags impossibly full of rats- Junk mostly! But when I wasn’t impressed she showed me the saddle and I- Ahhhh!” Quintessa gave a half screw of her device, the bones in her hands starting to crack. “I’m going to need a name.” Quintessa cooed in Morgan’s ear, awaiting her response. “Maggie,” The former captain confessed, “Maggie the Magpie, dressed in rags. She headed west after I saw her but that’s all I know- I swear.”

Meri :: Finally, a story that Meri actually found to be remotely believable and some information that they could potentially follow up on. If there was a cart in Cenril, if there was a woman named Maggie the Magpie, Meri would surely be able to dig some amount of confirmation on that. Surely the Captain would not have been the only woman to see this Maggie, not in a bustling city like Cenril. When Meri returns, it’s not with a torture device in hand. The psion has resolved to bring this session to a close, one way or another. Several blades levitate off of Quintessa’s table of torture toys, all of which circle around Meri in slow motion as the psion makes her way back into the cell. In one final push to see if Morgan was lying or not, Meri speaks to Quintessa, “Well what do you say? Should we keep her captive for just a bit longer while we confirm the details of her story? I’m bettin’ if Maggie the Magpie was around Cenril, our friend here was probably not the only person she did business with.” Another grin pulls at Meri’s lips, this one just as sweet as the last, except every woman in this room knew the truth behind that grin. “Of course, if Morgan is lying....” It must be a sight for the pain-riddled Captain, witnessing all of those blades just floating around the psion, as if they were just all waiting to strike. And they could...Quintessa would end up having the final say in how this ends. Would they just put the fear of god into Captain Morgan? Or would Quintessa prefer that Meri turn her into a pin cushion and let her bleed out? Or maybe Quintessa would like to execute the slave trader herself?

Quintessa || Morgan finally winced a bit, imagining the how painful of a death it would be to be turned into pincushion by the dark fae’s terrible collection. At this point she didn’t think her chances of survival were likely at all. Closing her eyes, the former captain and slaver conceded to her fate, waiting for the final verdict from her judge. Quintessa stepped away from the woman, her fingers tugging on her bottom lip thoughtfully. “Let’s keep her as a pet for now,” The changeling finally said, Morgan’s eyes shooting open in disbelief. The cruel countess turned halfway to give her a smile that was much too wide for the young woman’s face. “Right now, besides the object she’s my only lead. Let’s confirm what she told us first and then I’ll decide if I can let her go. If she’s lying…” The smile grew into a grin, her sharp teeth gleaming in the lowlight of the cell. “I have a friend who is always in the need of fresh meat.” For the first time there was a look of horror on Morgan’s face. She had met Kanna already, in the lower dungeons where not even the light from torches was provided, and the thought of that blue-eyed ghoul ripping her to pieces scared her more than the pain Quintessa and Meri had put her through. “No… not her!” Quintessa exited the cell, throwing back one last comment to her prisoner. “Then you’d best hope your information leads us in the right direction.”

Meri was just a little bit disappointed but it was fine! It was fine! Meri would just smile that same practiced smile she flashed several times during this encounter. Quintessa made good points, Morgan was the only lead at present. It’s with this detail in mind that the psion turns and exits the cell for the final time tonight with Quintessa’s lovely collection in tow. All objects would be set neatly on the table that Meri found them at originally. Death by Kanna seemed like a much more gruesome fate than anything Meri could deliver, or so the woman imagined based on Morgan’s reaction. With the job for the night done, Meri proceeds to harass her adopted niece for the following, “So you’ve got a couch for me to crash out on, yeah? And plenty of booze in stock? If so…I mean I am happy to start nosing through all of your cupboards.” Meri smirks, “Or you can just show me, we can drink. Do I have some crap to tell you.” IE: The divorce. “And it sounds like we’ve got some plans to make, we need to figure out if our friend gets to be dinner, eh?” This would probably be Morgan’s last chance to fess up and lies, both women would soon be out of ear shot. At least they will be if Meri gets her way.

Quintessa lead Meri back upstairs, a wave of her hand causing the cell door to shut and lock behind them as they exited. “A couch?” Quintessa snickered, a second wave of her hand snuffing out the magical glow of her torture chamber and leaving Morgan in the darkness to ponder her fate. “You know I’ve got guest rooms, right? Actually, better yet, let’s go to House Dragana. We can raid Larewen’s wine cellar. I think I saw some barrels of whiskey from the age of the Dark Immortals last time I was down there.” The changeling would continue to idly chat with her aunt, showing her support with this newest revelation of Meri’s divorce and telling her about her plans to compete in the Titan’s of Winter Tournament. This chatting would go on until they were too drunk to keep talking or until the sun came up, whichever came first.