The First Lash

[Aelryn Bloodmoon]

((I've a character concept I've been sitting on for a long while - male Loviatan priests are not as common as priestesses, but they exist. I decided to do a bit of a writing prompt for his background, to meet my own idea of the challenge of justifying his infamy by level two. I think I have a pretty good idea where I want this to go, so let's see if I can get there!))

Voices by Rev Theory


The first lash is the hardest. I remember mine. It set me on a path few would walk, but I do not regret a single moment of it.

I was an orphan, and I was ten. I lived in a fishing village named Llast situated between Luskan and Neverwinter, and I was fortunate enough that it did well enough for itself to have something like an orphanage. It was a roof over my head and food in my belly.

It wasn't free - it cost no coin, but I worked from sunrise to sunset every day, scrubbing floors, polishing mirrors and windows, keeping the place clean, and serving our guests with proper hospitality - especially the few nobles.

They did not visit frequently, but both Luskan and Neverwinter had noble families, and occasionally one wished to expand their family in circumstances that prevented them from doing so in a more natural fashion. We were just a neighboring fishing village, and we were distant enough to minimize any scandal, I suppose.

There were, over the years, about eight or nine of us or so at any one point. Miss Andrews never said how she kept replacing the children who were adopted, and I never bothered to ask. I don't know all their names- some stayed less than three months, and I wasn't really there to make friends.

I do, however, remember the night Lord Roberts came over, and decided he wanted to adopt Ashley. The man was a disgusting lout with far more money than manners. Unfortunately, my ten year old self had not yet learned to keep such thoughts to myself, and he was furious. When he demanded an apology, I spat at his feet.

I have never seen a more satisfying shade of red as the one on his face to this day - it still makes me smile.

I imagine he felt the same way looking at the red flowing down my back that night in the orphanage as Miss Andrews delivered the first lash with the whip. The pain was blinding - racing fire followed by frightening numbness. Roberts' fat face was still that amusing shade of red, demanding she strike again - and she did. Over, and over.

This time, the fire and numbness blotted out sound, and my world went white as I squeezed my eyes shut to block out the ugly bastard's face, smiling in something that resembled happiness but was no less hideous.

"...me, boy! Apologize for your insolence, and this can be over." I became aware of his voice again as his breath fouled the space in front of me.

My lip curled in defiance. This man was filth. The world wasn't fair. How was it someone like the man in front of me had such wealth and status and power to hurt others with such carelessness, to treat them as garbage?

Lord Roberts leered at my tear-stained face smugly, and I reared my head back and drove it forward into his nose. The lash was better than the sickening sight of his face.

The first lash had brought agony - but those lashes that blotted out his face, his breath - that smug, self-satisfied smile.... they brought me relief.

In that haze of pain and shock, I heard my Lady's voice for the first time- and it was beautiful.

[Aelryn Bloodmoon]

In the previous entry of this tale, I mentioned Ashley. Despite the brevity with which she is mentioned she is very much the crux of all of this.

She was my not-sister. That was our joke. Both of our parents had been old friends working one of the regular fishing crews together for years - too many years, it would seem, as on one trip, Umberlee claimed the vessel that was badly in need of repairs and likely could have done with retirement a winter or five sooner.

We entered the orphanage together. We were the same age. We were the only thing either of us really had left in the world - the neighbor's children. A sort of pseudo-sibling relationship developed; she fussed after me, and I looked after her. There wasn't a lot to fuss after or look after; a few scraps over food with other children when we were younger, before they learned that we weren't above fighting dirty for each other.

Having a not-sibling had its advantages - the only advantage we had.

We weren't willing to give it up for anything.


* * *

"You shouldn't have done that," Miss Andrews chided as she finished plucking the last of the dirt from the lash-wounds with small metal tweezers. I experienced fire again as she poured some kind of antiseptic over it.

Across the room, leaning against the wall with her hands clasped in front of her, Ashley stared at me as Miss Andrews began pushing thread through my flesh with a needle.

"Thank you," she mouthed, before turning and leaving the room as a cry broke past my lips and I looked away.

"You've never done anything like that before. I would not have expected to be trapped into punishing you so. I trust it will not happen again," her voice was crisp even as her hands deftly sealed my flesh shut - efficient, but callous.

I laid there quietly, staring at the floor as she worked for a little while, before I managed to put into words the sense of betrayal I felt as a ten year old boy.

"...Miss Andrews, you have treated all of us pretty good so far. I'm sure none of the people who come to adopt are perfect, everyone hides things. But that man was different. If you let someone like that man adopt A...ny of us... I swear by all the gods if I have to haunt you for it to happen this place will burn down with you in it."

Her hands froze over my back, and my ten year old self had a moment of realization, that I was oh so very vulnerable and easy to dispose of, right then and there. Her hands resumed her work, and she leaned down to whisper. "You have always been a promising one. Fear not- I won't separate you from little Ashley."

It was then, as she picked up the scissors off the table beside me, and hesitated for a moment- before deftly cutting the thread with them and tying it off- that it clicked into my mind, that the one thing I should definitely be afraid of, was Miss Andrews.

[Aelryn Bloodmoon]

In the years since my initiation into the faith, I have prayed often to Loviatar for Her guidance, that I might best please Her by laying the lash upon those who most deserve Her retribution, and sometimes, I have had visions. Small seeings, moments of my life, and moments that I have certainly never been privy to- Her whispers, Her anger, Her excitement, guide me as I watch these fleeting blessed hints from my Lady, and so I compile them here that I might not forget them, in the order they have appeared to me.


The first and most unforgivable sin is to the despoil the innocence of children, whether mentally, physically, or emotionally.

This would seem contrary to what most might expect of the Maiden of Pain, but Loviatar is a loving mistress to Her faithful, bringing pleasure to places where one would otherwise only find suffering, and She is not without mercy, wisdom, or grace.

Here is the truth- to experience the deepest emotional pains of sorrow, one must first know joy, and lose it. This loss will teach one to better appreciate that which they have in the future, and through this pain, Loviatar shares Her wisdom.

To damage the innocence of a child is to rob an individual of their ability to experience happiness, joy, and love as deeply and as normally as they otherwise might- it taints them at an early age, before they can grasp the concept of a happy, ideal life. This damages their ability to experience pain as it is meant to be felt- raw, and shocking, rather than blunt, and expected.

These unfortunate victims, however, may count themselves blessed, for it is these that often find the greatest of mercy and pleasure in our Lady's Lash.

But for those who victimize them, no mercy can be allowed- they should be made to suffer the most agonizing of pains, bereft of Her tender mercies and knowing Her greatest displeasure, until expiration - and that allowed only after they've finally given up on the hope of even a release to the afterlife.

From those who would take from children, all must be taken.