fiction (wip, second draft)

"An Account of the Long Travels of a Cleric of Oberon” OR “On Maintaining Discipline and Order with Womenfolk in the Adventuring Party" 'Constant and stubborn work will surmount everything.' - an ancient proverb. Remember this proverb, fellow clerics of Oberon. We who have sworn oaths to maintain peace among our travelling companions, and guide them back to the safety of their doorsteps. It is your constant and stubborn work that will surmount all obstacles to harmony among your companions. Is there any creature more stubborn than the kind of woman who mastered the sword to protect her land and people, all the while having been told she was better suited to a more gentle occupation? Or a rogue who would crawl into a dragon's den to sneak out with a jewelled pendant in her pocket to match a new dress? And are these not the sort that always find their way into adventuring parties? When a woman companion sows discord among her comrades, or makes the whole lot fret over her unpredictable outbursts and reckless behaviour, the best course of action is to strip her from the waist down and spank her bared bottom, either with your own hand or some kind of instrument that will sting enough to make her cry out. There are paddles made specifically for this purpose, but a sturdy wooden spoon or hairbrush works just as well. And even while you are traveling light, as long as there are trees, you can have her cut a light branch and fashion a switch that will dissolve her stubbornness in an instant. It is an art to know how hard and how long and what way to spank an errant comrade, but fortunately it’s an easy art to master, if you know to look for one important thing – whether or not she is contrite. When you are about to spank her, it will be easy to tell if she is already contrite, or if she needs to be made so. If she knows her punishment is earned, and she willingly submits to it, you should spank her until she starts to twist and whimper, and perhaps longer, depending on your judgement. If this is all it takes to make her behave, rejoice that she has joined your party, for there are few such gentlewomen among adventuring folk. More likely she will show little to no remorse at all when you take her aside to chastise her, and will balk at the idea that she should bare her bottom for a spanking. She is a grown woman, she will scream at you. She will say that you have no right. But, you will tell her, you have been given this right by the highest power – the will of Oberon. Even if she herself does not recognise Oberon’s authority, she has submitted to your leadership by entering the adventuring party in return for your knowledge of healing magic, and your ear for the songs of all the living things of Maia. As Oberon has written, a woman's will can be strong enough to crush kingdoms to dust; a terrible power for good or ill. It is thus our duty, fellow clerics, to turn her will to good! Left undisciplined, a spoiled or treacherous woman turns her will toward mischief, and sours the harmony you have so carefully cultivated among your companions. You must correct her swiftly and assiduously, before damage is done to your companions' spirits. Do not let something as trifling as a young lady’s sassy mouth give rise to endless, tiresome bickering and steal the good memories of camaraderie you could have had. Take heed, disciples of Oberon! It is only through constant and stubborn work that you will fulfil your oath to your companions. Through my own trials I have learned much, and now I shall pass these four tales onto you, so that you might learn and teach, and not suffer my hardship. *** First I shall tell you the story of how I was taught the best way to keep feisty, impulsive women safe and amiable. One of my adventuring companions was a wood elf named Genevieve, a crafty rogue. There’s not a trap she can’t disarm or a lock she cannot open, and no manner of mechanism too elaborate or arcane for her cunning. She travels from her home deep in the inland forests to collect seashells, fills her luggage with them during her campaigns and brings them back to her hometown, knowing that many of them will be made into the sort of iridescent beads she loves to wear in her braids. She’d taken a quest with me, thinking herself to venture to the jagged, rocky coasts of the Darkwater Sea, where she could have her pick of the strange and lovely gifts it offers. For you see, she is of a tribe of wood elves; used to navigating treacherous freshwater rivers that run swift over rocks and falls, rudder in one hand, spear in the other, catching fish in the springtime as they make their seasonal travels over the ancient paths through their forests. And such was her apprehension of a voyage to the Darkwater, that she could take it as lightly as she takes the creeks of her homeland forest. But I had travelled many times to the lonely island of Limnil, a haven in the middle of the terrible Darkwater Sea, and know its many dangers well. I would tell her, a river-raft on those treacherous black waters would surely be split and dashed, that is if some Thing did not drag her down first. But still she would talk of sailing the rocky coasts, armed with spear and dagger, more given to the thought of shells and coral of colours she’d never seen before. I was sure I could talk her out of it before we'd travelled far, or I'd never have brought her into the adventuring party. But what a stubborn creature is that Genevieve! Again and again she talked of rafts and sailing before the ocean even drew near, and never did she listen to me as I told her to stay away from the deadly waves of Darkwater. Her love of pretty things blinded her to a danger she would have otherwise seen – the sort of girl who begins to dance before the first chime of the bard’s timbrel has rung. Our party was a day’s march from the coast. We had purses that Genevieve filled with gold coins picked from a chest meant for demonic empire's army, so we could stop at a tavern to make our journey light even in this strange place. Heed my word! Should you ever venture out of the old forest, it is well worth it to learn to deal in empire's coin and the customs by which they trade it, noxious as they are, for it will make your party more agreeable to the folk living in the empire's shadow. Yet I could hear mother Maia’s discordant melodies about Genevieve, of her foolish plans to make a raft of driftwood to see what she can find at the base of the cliffs by Darkwater Sea. I took a hot apple cider out onto the porch, to listen to the crickets in the tall grass and try to think of other things for a short while, so I would be clear of mind when I confronted her again. I spoke with the innkeeper while he swept. He was a shapeshifter in the guise of an enormous wolf-man, though I do not know his true form. He seemed fond of us, no doubt aided by our gold, and was willing to share in a conversation with me. He showed me a heavy wooden paddle, of very clever and artificial making, drilled full of neat and even holes, hanging by the back door. ‘Twas for his wife, he told me, who had similar predilections as Genevieve, and also needed to be taught to mind the worry and distress of others. He told me how he had his wife strip and bend over the porch railing for a paddling when she got the idea to go down into an old mine to look for gemstones to wear about her neck. Since the fear of getting trapped in a collapsed mine shaft clearly wasn’t enough to dissuade her, he said to me, he had to give her something should would be fearful of, for all of her long life. He besought me to do the same for Genevieve. I wondered, could I so roughly handle such a small and delicate person, so much weaker than myself? One who trusts me to guard her through all of our journey, unharmed, until she arrives again at her doorstep? Should I do as the he bids me? Should I strip her, hold her in place if I must, and spank her until she has no choice but to listen to reason? And if she will not understand reason even then, whip her bared bottom with a willow branch until she’s too afraid to disobey me until the end of our campaign? This was the innkeeper's advice. He finished his sweeping. "Think thee of it this way - will it not be more pleasant even for Genevieve? Would it not be better for her to have such foolishness spanked out of her, so that you may all do as you please, rather than have thee follow her every move to make sure she does not go near Darkwater Sea? Wilt thou truly ever be able to take thine eyes off her until your journey's end, if thou makest not sure she shall be safe? How unhappy this will make her and thyself! And thine attention will be taken from the rest of thy comrades as well! All of thy comrades will suffer for it if thou dost not chastise her thoroughly." Surely, it was Oberon's will that I meet this innkeeper, and hear his words! For though his lesson is in keeping with Oberon's teachings, I am yet to hear it discussed in our midst. That is why I am writing this, fellow clerics! Let us weave it into our songs! I have seen what harmony can be achieved this way, and you too shall understand if you read my words in full, and do as I instruct. The innkeeper had bidden me to use the paddle if it came to that, so I took it with me when I went to look for Genevieve. She was in the common room, showing an impressed audience the oddly shaped tools she carried to pick locks, and how to use them. I stood at the edge of her circle, arms crossed, expression impatient, waiting for her to offer to meet me later as she normally would when I'd come to her this way. Her eyes locked on mine for only a moment, and I could see she fear flash behind her eyes before she could hide it, and then she never looked my way again. I guessed at what I later came to know was true - she had overheard some part of my talk with the innkeeper, and knew that I was set to spank her if she still intended to sail on Darkwater Sea. "I'll have a word with thee when thou art done here, Genevieve." "I'll talk or not talk with whom I please. Who dost thou think thou art, to command my time, when it is by mine own hand that we can travel in such luxury, paying for inns and coaches and the apples on thy breath?" At first her audience was shocked at her aggression toward her own comrade, but she played it off as if this were a kind of japery we do in mutual jest, and she assumed that I would not be so bold as to contradict her and stir up a scene in a place where we were to stay the night as guests. I took the paddle from my sleeves and pointed it toward the door. "Get thee outside, and we shall go alone together a ways into the trees so that I can spare thee the indignity of being stripped and chastised where all can see and hear." "Art thou taken with madness?! I was born but a year before thee!" "And so?" "'Tis not done in these times! Or at least, it is done less than it once was, and it is for the good of us all that we rid ourselves of such barbarism! Even if thou tookest me to be thy wife, I'd not let thee!" At that, she blushed and stumbled, and in the awkward silence, a murmur began to grow in the room. “Is it not so, that the husband shall guard the wife's good conduct? And for a maiden, is it not her companion that shall be her guardian? So if the cleric says she must be spanked, is it not right that she should submit?” She turned away from me to hide her face, but I'd already seen what she had come to realise. She was caught in a trap of her own making, where she dared not argue with me further because she knew the more details of the situation that came to light, the more her audience would agree that a spanking would do her a lot of good. And with this realisation came further understanding. 'If there is nobody who could hear my story and think I should not be spanked, what recourse do I have? I must submit to the good cleric's demand, for if I don't, I should surely be spanked here, where all can see my shame'. 'Constant and stubborn work will surmount everything.' Remember these words, fellow clerics of Oberon. For at this moment it may feel that your task is nearly done, that she is on the cusp of understanding what it is you mean for her to learn, and you may feel that perhaps there is no need to do more - the fear you see in her eyes may move you to pity, or she might say honeyed words that speak well of a promise to behave herself. Be not moved, clerics! Unless some grave misunderstanding is uncovered, you must go through with the punishment you have promised her. For if she discovers that she can pull your heartstrings to relieve her sentence, she will never stop trying to do this for as long as she is in your care, and many of your words will forever fall on barren ground, and the discordance will only grow until your journey's end. "Get thee outside. Now!" She shrank at the ferocity of my command. Shamed and afraid to give her audience any more reason to want to see her punishment, she went outside as I'd bid her, and I followed closely behind. With a bit of lake between us and everyone else, I stopped us by a stretch of path beside a sturdy ironwood fence. "Bare thyself and bend thee over that, there." "Thou canst not truly mean to do it!" "Oh, I mean to do it." "Thou villain! I will turn around but I will not bare myself! It is a sign of deep respect for thy services as the party's good cleric that I will submit to being smacked - although I am far too old for it! - but I will not bare myself. That is too shameful!" I stepped close, and looked down into her eyes. She did not want to break her own defiant glare, but she also did not want me to see the fearful, angry tears she had no inconspicuous method of blinking away. I unbuttoned her trousers and pulled them around her thighs. For all the defiance she tried to show, she knew as well as I did that the rest of our adventuring party will appreciate that she got a good spanking. Not just for her reckless and foolhardy treasure hunting expeditions that drove us all to our wits' ends, but also for the sass she gave us when she was even a little bit annoyed. I turned her around to face the ironwood fence. I stood beside her with the paddle in my good hand. "Finish baring thyself, then bend thee over. Or if thou wouldstn't, thou'rt free to go back to the inn, where thou shouldst surely have an audience for thy plea." She gave me a hateful glare, and bared herself. "Thou villain." She faced the fence, but could not bring herself to overcome to the shame to bend over it. It would have been easier to bear the humiliation if she did not know in her heart that she deserved a good smacking. "Turn over, and hold thyself down, for if thou makest an obstacle for me, I will show thee how badly this paddle can hurt. It will be better for thee to listen to me, and do as I say. Understand?" "Yes." Shaking, she turned over the fence and offered her bare bottom for the paddle. I put one hand on her back to keep her from moving away, while I swatted all of her backside with the other. "It hurts too much! It's too much! Everyone shall hear me! Stop it now!" I had her attention, but not yet her understanding. "I will not stop until I am certain I have rid thee of all desire to set out on Darkwater Sea." "I will never! I will never go near that wretched place! Now let me go!" How she thrashed about and carried on! But I saw nor heard any penitence, only her empty words meant to make me stop, so I continued. "And thou shalt answer for thy disrespect in the inn's common room!" "I'm sorry! I shan't speak that way to thee again!" "If thou dost not stop trying to avoid thy chastisement by kicking thy legs about, I shall tie thee to this fence and start over!" She held still at last, and the sting was too much to bear this way, so she began howling her apologies, and professed an understanding of the dangers she had previously underestimated. And then I was sure she would show me my due respect and listen to all that I had to say, so I stopped spanking her. She put her trousers back in place the instant I let her up. Pride wouldn't let her rub the sting out of her bottom or look me in the face. I put my fingers under her chin and turned her to meet my eyes. I saw the penitence I expected, and at last I was certain she did know the danger of the Things that lurk in those inky waters, and how they cannot be cut with a blade that exists within our material reality, let alone her fishing spear. I felt certain now she would not sneak away on her own to try something foolish, and I could let my heart be light again. *** 'Constant and stubborn work will surmount everything.' Mine own stubborn work had been greater than Genevieve's will could meet, and so she was kept safe, and the whole of our adventuring party was spared much distress. Listen, clerics! This was the swift end of many nights of unnecessary worry and strife! It truly is as Oberon has written - women must be guided with a hand that is firm and fair. Do not hesitate to guide them, for the sooner you do, the more happy times the whole party will have together. I learned this lesson fast and I learned it well, and all of my campaigns have been more harmonious and pleasant for it. Genevieve was not my only companion on this quest. Another was a faerie named Candytuft. A crafty little one that learned enough levitation magic to move books about with ease, then became a scholar of enchantment magic - a master conjurer of passions, fancies, and false memories that she can shape inside the mind of her target with naught but sounds and scents. I have to guess why she chose to devote herself so entirely to this school of magic, because she will not say why. What a valuable adventuring companion is little Candytuft! A few days ago, for the sake of our adventuring party, she flew through the window of a Duke's tower, sweetened its air with enchanted incense, whispered some charming spells into a nobleman's ear, and thus had our party pardoned of many crimes we were well-known to have committed. And maybe three weeks before that, she settled a brooding mother dragon into a pleasant mood with perfumes, so we could pass through her territory with no harm to the dragons or ourselves. Little Candytuft would rather not harm any living thing, but she is an impulsive creature, and she forgets herself when it comes to her love of sweets. A few months after I settled things with Genevieve, there was another source of discord within the adventuring party - our sugar rations were nearly gone, many days before we should have run out. All of us could remember making lots of tea with sugar, but only the sugar came up short; our tea leaves were still plentiful as we expected them to be. The party's wizard was able to detect magical manipulation around our memories of making so much tea with sugar, and the spells he detected had Candytuft's signatures all over them. Candytuft flew up into some tree branches and hid herself when she knew she was caught. "I was going to erase all the false memories I gave you after I could replace the sugar! You never would have known if you hadn't gone snooping around in the tea leaves! It would have been exactly as if I'd never enchanted you at all!" I looked where I could hear her voice, high overhead in the thick of the leaves. "It would not be exactly as if thou hadst never enchanted us at all, because thou hast truly done it! And thou wilt not get away with it a second time, now that thou art not trusted among thy companions." I could hear her sniffling. She could not regain our trust quickly by any means, and this distressed the little one who did so dearly want to be well-liked. "Candytuft, get thee down here, and take responsibility for thine actions." Her little face appeared from behind a branch, but she stopped still and said nothing. "Come now, little o