A Pawn’s Tale
by BangBear


To Whomever May Perchance Upon This,

Greetings. I do hope this letter finds you well. It may come as some surprise, but the words you read are the words of a Pawn. Truly! I’ve taken what little downtime I’ve to spare to scrape together these writings. My Arisen is a rather peculiar. ‘Twould not be unreasonable to deem him cruel, in fact. Though, curiously, his cruelty would seem wholly focused on his Pawn.

Indeed, when interacting with townsfolk or other travelers, my Arisen well and truly is a hero of all. He’d just as soon help a child find his lost toy as help the guard fell a towering beast, he’d lend an ear to pauper and prince alike. And yet at any time of day, be it eating a meal at camp or replenishing our stock at a merchant, I could swiftly find myself with a broken nose with naught but a warning, or worse. 

I recall the first time he struck me, ‘twas but a moment after I was summoned in from beyond the rift. ‘Twould make no difference to my loyalty, but ‘twas pleasing to see him a beastren, just as I am. I’d not gotten through a sentence ere he cracked his fist against my nose. He had me aghast, as well as the folk who witnessed the deed. Yet none came to my aid. Instead, he commanded I heal my bleeding nose myself. At the time I believed it to be a brutal test of my abilities as a Mage, as he turned and left soon as Anodyne restored me. As Pawn, I followed without question.

We’d not made it far ere we came across our first goblin encampment below a crag. He lead us atop it where we could scout without alerting our foe. I counted near a dozen, and ere I realized what was happening, my Arisen picked me up and tossed me down into the den of monsters. ‘Twas no small fall either! I landed flat on my back, and the goblins were left near as stunned as I was!  

I thought this some novel strategy, using my sudden appearance as a distraction for the Arisen to take them by surprise, but for the second time that day I was left without aid. The Arisen merely watched the goblins assail me with their crude clubs and sticks and axes, ignoring my cries for assistance. I was overrun, nary a single opportunity to retaliate or recuperate. The blows and slashes came far too quick to cast even the simplest of spells and I was soon brought low. They tore my robes and staff from me and pinned me down, and I managed to glimpse the Arisen taking a seat before they took hold of my hair and had their way with my mouth, as with the rest of my body. 

Again and again they forced themselves upon me, sullying my fur with dirt and discharge. ‘Twixt the ravishing they’d beat me further by holding my arms behind my back and punching at my exposed belly and face, or kicking me between my legs. It embarrasses me to admit I soiled myself from the pain. Devilish creatures, goblins are. Truly the most vile to curse this land with their steps. Other beast may be vicious, but they harm only to feed or defend territory. Goblins harm for sport. 

‘Twas hours ere they tired, but they’d no intention of merely letting me go. The goblins had me tied upon a post by my arms behind my back. There I sat slumped, breathing ragged and shallow from cracked or broken ribs. An eye was swollen over and the other half so, but I could just make out them stoking their campfire and making a crude roasting spit. 

Afeared, I tried calling out to the Arisen once again, but my words were arrested by a coughing fit, blood spraying onto the dirt before me. It did naught but draw attention to myself once more, and my punishment ‘twas a swift crack to the chin with a cudgel. A torturous pain overtook me, and as I hung slumped I could feel my jaw, now broken, dangling loose and disobeying my will. 

I was soon carted to the fire, squirming in vain to free myself from my binds ere they settled me on the spit. Flames licked at my flesh, the heat searing my skin. The goblins reveled in my wailing, cheering in a circle ‘round me. Fate spared me no mercy by allowing death to pull me beyond the rift once more. It waited until only after they carved the cooked meat from my legs with their jagged implements and feasted upon it like some pig they’d stuck. With my last breaths and vision fading I tried to call for the Arisen. 

‘Twas my first death, that one. I knew death for Pawns was rather short lived, so to speak. Still, I’d not expected just how short it was. One instant, the agony of being cooked and eaten alive, and the next standing back in the capital before the Arisen. I was still crying for the Arisen the moment I stepped back into the world. And my voice once again worked! I startled myself with how loud I was. Nary a word was said about what happened. The Arisen resupplied at the local shops, holding polite conversation with each and every vendor along the way, even refusing a discount at one of the more frequented stands ere we ventured forth once more. ‘Twas a few days before anything of the sort happened again.

Another time, we’d two other pawns in our band when a rampaging ogre came charging through the trees. The Arisen had graciously allowed me to learn new incantations and I began to cast one, only to be interrupted by him taking the staff out of my inventory! 

Defenseless, the ogre snatched me up as the lone female in the party. Its grip crushed me and squeezed the air from my punctured lungs. The pawns were fain to help, but the Arisen commanded them to wait. My bones broke like twigs and I nearly lost consciousness when he dashed me against the rocks. The beast took up my limp, mangled body like a girl’s cloth doll. He’d a leg in each hand, and when he began pulling, I was torn in twain in short order, split from groin to flank. I’d have screamed my loudest if ‘twasn’t for my own blood choking me.

The other pawns looked on in horror and begged the Arisen to allow them to intervene. Even it it hadn’t already been far too late for me, the Arisen wouldn’t have allowed it. Blood showered the road below, pouring from my two halves. My organs dangled free, wound up and tangled amongst themselves between my two halves like linens hung out to dry, my skin and fur torn unevenly and flapping like a banner in the breeze. 

The fiend brought it to his mouth and dropped it whole into its massive maw. The crunching and popping sickens me to this day, but I wager its sounds of satisfaction were even worse. ‘Twasn’t long I had to suffer this. My remaining half dangled over the beast, its breath hot and putrid. It dropped me onto its slimy tongue and, mercifully, my head was one of the first things crushed in its teeth. 

I could go on about the abuses my Arisen subjects me to, but I shall leave it there for this note. ‘Tis a difficult thing to write in the limited rest I am granted. I shall leave you with this curiosity. Tale is there is a disease pawns can contract. Slowly it progresses from impolite words, to insubordination, and, eventually, full betrayal of the Arisen. Pray my Arisen never sees these words, but I have wished to fall victim to this disease more than once, even if only for a moment. Perhaps then... 

No, ‘tis a foul thought. I am fate bound to fealty, and shall remain so. The Arisen has an immense duty and I must aid however I can, even if I find the methods confounding. 


Keep yourself well,
A Pawn