#vhyx writes a damn lore

[windforge]

oh lore?

No one knew exactly when Mama Tegu moved into the Bystoma Bog. Though the bosses wouldn’t admit it, she’d probably been there quite a long time. She just hadn’t wanted to be seen. Whisperings spread of a frail guardian with a crocodilian face, draped in rags, who promised magic in exchange for...offerings. The rumors grew quite distorted and gruesome, and for a time Mama Tegu was little more than a bogeyman to keep youngsters from wandering too far into the swamp at night. 

One such youngster, however, wasn’t deterred. A cartographer passing through the Windforge caught wind of the tales surrounding the mysterious witch and her boggy domain, and his interest was seized. Perhaps if he could map some of the infamous marshland, he could put the locals’ fears to rest--or give them truth. 

Salvator didn’t find what he was looking for right away, but he did find...something. While surveying from the ruined top of a long-dead tree, a glimmer of something embedded in the bark caught his eye. Willing up some of his often-neglected Nature magic, he pushed the dead bark aside to reveal a large stone, cut in a series of simplified whorls and angular lines. Assuming it to be some sort of abandoned talisman, he reached out to remove it--

-----

He couldn’t move.

Or, at least, he couldn’t move well. Something was binding his limbs, his wings, his jaw. With a muffled grunt, he attempted to push himself upright, but could only flail helplessly in the mire as his legs refused to obey him. 

Despite whatever was covering his head, he could hear something approaching from the underbrush behind him. His chest heaved as his panic intensified, he was trapped, he was vulnerable, and he knew there were things in this swamp, things he should never have tempted, he shouldn’t have come here

“Well aren’t you in quite the mess, child.”

He heard a soft, drawling voice replace the rattling of leaves and branches. The voice felt wizened, ancient, and worn out. Yet it was gentle, like a mother chastising a youngling, and carried just a hint of amusement.

As best he could, Salvator flopped his head around to try and face the speaker. He caught a glimpse of golden rags, impeccably clean even in the muck. Wings draped in strings of bones, like a macabre windchime. A misshapen face, a snout far too long to belong to any dragon.

Mama Tegu.

His head collapsed back into the dirt, chest still heaving from exertion and fear. But he accepted his fate. This is what I get for wandering. I’m no wind dragon. What kind of mapmaker gets lost in a forest? Especially one born of nature flight? 

“Looks like you ran afoul of an Augite stone, young’n. Heh, it takes some luck to find one of them that’s still awake and kickin’.”

The gravelly voice interrupted his thoughts and dragged him back to the present. Something was still binding his jaws, so he could only let out a muffled grumble in response. 

Mama Tegu let out a wry chuckle. “Well, maybe’s luck’s the wrong word, young’n. But you’ve got some luck now for sure. Mama knows plenty of ways out of a snag like this, mmhm.”

She stepped closer to him, slowly circling the larger dragon’s bound form. He noticed she had a noticeable limp, and her wings looked thin and almost atrophied, as though they might collapse even from the weight of a few bones and strings.

“Only problem is, child,” she continued. “All magic’s got a price, even mine. Now I ain’t unreasonable, you understand, but it is polite to agree on these things beforehand. I know you can’t answer me yet, but since seeing a big ol’ lunk like yaself tangled up in a rock trap ‘s given me such a smile, consider this a little gift from Mama.”

She extended her claws towards Salvator’s face, and he cringed. Despite her pleasant demeanor, he was still having trouble believing that a senile, swamp-dwelling recluse could be so trustworthy. Unfortunately, he had little choice if he wanted to escape his bindings. 

Mama Tegu let out a low hum as she passed her hand over his face. The tone of her humming dipped lower and lower until he could practically feel it rumbling the ground beneath him and the air in his lungs. He felt the pressure around his jaw loosening, and then it was free.

With a stifled cry, he opened his mouth as blood rushed back to his face. He rotated his jaw a few times; even though he hadn’t been trapped that long, the binding was tight enough--coupled with tooth-grinding stress--that his muscles felt cramped. After a few seconds, he felt ready to speak.

Mama Tegu had retreated and was now leaning against the very dead tree that had started this whole mess. She fiddled with some of the bones tied to her sash while she waited for him to regain his composure. 

Salvator blinked and suddenly it seemed she was right in front of him again. He started back in surprise. Mama Tegu’s mouth turned faintly upward in a thin, calm smile as she stared at him. He felt as though she was looking right through him, right into him, and he couldn’t suppress a shudder.

“Hmmm. Isn’t that better, child?”

“T-thank you. Are you--” She cut him off before he could finish his question. 

“Now hush. I ain’t done with you yet. And considerin’ you’re the one who came trompin’ into my marsh, I suppose I’m owed a question an’ an answer first, hmm?”

Her eyes hardened ever so slightly, and her voice took on a serious edge.

“What do you offer me for your freedom, child?”

Salvator’s eyes widened. He didn’t have much of value to his name to begin with, and he certainly didn’t bring any of it with him on his stupid, stupid expedition. He could probably offer to go back and fetch it, but there was no way in eons she would be foolish enough to accept that as an offering. And he was loathe to give up something far more...intangible just to escape a trap like this. If some of the stories were to be believed, that may well be his only option.

“I-well, you see--” His voice cracked slightly, and if dragons could blush he would have turned a spectacular shade of red. Her presence was so...intimidating, even though she was by far the smallest guardian he’d ever seen. It didn’t help that she was preceded by a reputation for making damning deals for one’s blood, bones, or worse.

He sighed. “I don’t know what I can offer. I have nothing of value, and I’m sure nothing you’d want anyways. If it’s flesh you want, I suppose one of my arms would be the easiest. I’m not sure if you’d want the soul of a failed mapmaker who can’t live up to his birth flight or his adopted one.”

For the first time in their interaction, Mama Tegu looked confused. Then a grin split her face, and a laugh ripped out of her throat, harsh and barking but no less mirthful.

“Ahahahah, you--ya think I want, what? Ya arms? Ya blood? Ya soul? Oh boy, child, those stores have been gettin’ pretty tall then, lemme tell ya. Hoo, by the Mothers, that sure is somethin’.”

If Mama Tegu has been slightly bemused, Salvator was absolutely stunned. His voice rose over her rough cackling.

“Well, then--then what do you want?”

Her laughter died down into a cough, and she pounded at her chest before it cleared and she regained her breath.

“Heh, ahem, sorry child. I ain’t laughin’ at you, just the ninnies that live in these parts, thinkin’ I drink blood ‘n steal hatchlings, whoo-eee.” She shook her head gently. 

“As for my payment, well see that’s the thing. You gotta offer whatcha think you can give. An’ if I like it, I’ll take it, n’ we have a deal. Understand, child?”

Salvator pondered this for a few minutes. Even if she didn’t seem to be malicious, he knew better than to make deals and promises he couldn’t afford. He could feel his legs starting to sting beneath his bindings, reminding him of his predicament.

“What if...what if I helped you out with something? A favor for a favor, that sort of thing? There has to be something I could do for you to make up for this, since I don’t have anything I could give you.”

Mama Tegu turned away from him, stroking the bottom of her jaw thoughtfully. She let out another low hum as she considered. Salvator waited in tense silence, praying to every god he thought would listen that she would accept his deal, and not have something gruesome in mind for him as his task.

Finally, she turned back to face him.

“Hmmm, well it isn’t the kinda deal I usually take. If’n ya start takin’ favors no one ever offers real payment anymore. But you seem earnest enough, child, and Mama ain’t heartless. I tell ya what. Mama ain’t as young as she used to be, and these newfangled locals ain’t been friendly. You’re a young, strong fella, even if ya seem to have worse direction-sense than a mirror in a blizzard. But Mama knows these swamps like the back of her claws, and I ain’t gettin’ lost anytime soon. If you stay with me an’ help watch Mama’s back, child, I’ll free some o’ them bindings. An’ the longer ya stay, the more I’ll release ‘em. An’ don’tcha worry ya little head, I’ll make sure they’s at least loose. Comfortable enough so’s you can move n’ sleep alright. So, child, whatcha think, hmm?”

He thought about the implications of her offer carefully. “So...some of my payment is time, then?”

She shrugged noncommittally. “If’n ya wan’ see it like that, yes. And if’n Mama’s bein’ honest, she doesn’ mind the company now ‘n then.”

There was a beat of silence between them, the humid air heavier than usual. Salvator swallowed thickly. He really didn’t have any other choice. He doubted he would get a better offer than this, surely.

“I..accept.”

“Child, you’re the one offerin’ to me. You got to say it.”

“A-alright.” The words were sticking in his throat. “Mama Tegu, I offer you my time and assistance, my company and aid, in exchange for freeing me from this trap.”

A satisfied smile creased her features, and a glow encircled her eyes. When she spoke, her voice seemed to have an otherworldly echo to it.

“The offering is good, the deal is struck. Under the sight of the Mothers may we both fulfill our bargain. Under the blessings of the Mothers may we serve each other as they do.”