Jeppson “The Maggot” Malort: Infernal Brawler
A corpulent and pallid grub squeezed into roughly humanoid shape, the Maggot stands over six foot but looks better suited to rolling than any form of bipedal locomotion. Pale hairless rolls of flesh, the color of bleached bone gone yellow, squeeze from any available opening in his threadbare silken outfit. Small beady eyes look out from behind a huge rounded and oft’ broken nose reminiscent of a distended pustule. Sweat streams down from an egg smooth dome and glistens sickly everywhere exposed flesh can be seen. His massive hands, ridiculous to behold capped as they are with stubby little worm fingers, clench and unclench in his only outward sign of agitation. Otherwise, he seems an expressionless mountain of lard as he stares down at an astonishingly cute little girl. The girl gesticulates wildly trying to convince the Maggot of something, her platinum braids waving in time to gesture. Maggot’s response can barely be heard even a short distance away. His voice wrong for such a monster. It being too soft and too high. Neither gender nor age are betrayed by his whisper quiet reply.
The unlikely pair is soon joined by three more individuals atop a wagon. Two young and improbably good looking women sit next to a Strix as he works the wagon’s reins drawing it alongside the Maggot and girl. An Axebeak peeks around the wagon. They all turn their eyes upon Angel Wharf with looks of hope laced scepticism. Together they have been on the road for more than a year escapees of a Drow pleasure estate.
While Maggot stands mute on the subject of the group’s flight from darkness. An account can be coaxed and cobbled together from the others of his troop with a sufficiently high diplomacy check.
Largo talks to Maggot’s party and gets the first part of their tale.
Chapter One: The Birth of Hope
Years ago an Exalted woman Leondria, a hated thorn in the side of the Drow Empire, was captured and sent to Mitholgolyth. A city of debauchery, decadence, and torture seated at the mouth of the river Siln’Olgolyth. Just down steam from the breeding farms of Del’Olgolyth, Broken into three districts, Mitholgolyth’s first district faces the sea and is a hub of the slave trade specializing in rare and desirable stock. The second, palatial up river estates, serves a diplomatic function. Pseudo rural palaces for the feasting and entertainment of allies and rivals alike. Lastly, the smallest and most restricted district houses the Olgolyth Transmutorium. A research facility whose products include slaves engineered to task and seeds suited to the new world.
Leondria was forced into the plush pens on the estate of Matron Grila to become both entertainment for and message to those who would treat with drow Matrons. She became very popular. Strong in body and spirit, pure of heart she became a favorite plaything of Matron Grila Tet Olgolyth’s consort and his entourage. The consort Raffel Te Olgolyth was so taken with Leondria that he purchased a male exalted from a neighboring estate intending to breed a toy of unrivaled innocence. A slave to whom the degradations of the pleasure dungeon would be exquisitely fresh and painful. There were problems with Raffel’s plan. Problems he overcame with years of careful planning and secret alliances.
The Consort Te Olgolyth’s first problem was the fact that up breeding the purity of celestials was contrary to the Matrons’ breeding edict. Thus Raffel’s plan necessitated the disappearance of Leondria and the exalted bull. They would then need to be relocated somewhere near at hand, close to the Transmutorium, and out of sight. His second problem was innocence. He needed to raise a slave as an innocent. So when she came of age, the truth could be unveiled slowly in the most sadistic ways Raffel could imagine. She would need to be raised in a home with a family of sorts.
A small villa with a large and high walled demesne was procured via a cat’s paw bordering the Transmutorium’s fortified campus. An accident was faked. A dungeon playground immulated by a fire jin’s apparent carelessness. Four supposedly died in the fire Leondria, the male exalted, and two very young female slaves. Rafael installed the presumed deceased behind the demesnse’s high walls. To watch over them, several harum guards thought particularly loyal and taciturn were posted. To cook and clean for them, a trio of house slaves were bought. And to oversee it all, an obscure country cousin was brought to town. Preparations made, breeding leondria and her bull began in earnest aided by a compromised transmutorium wizard. A year later, Leondria gave birth to an angelic baby.
The years following the birth were a blissful time for all except the father. He was executed and disposed of after the birth of a healthy girl. The peaceful times didn’t end for Leondria until her milk soured. Raffel took the infant’s weaning as signal to resume his sport with the mother. At this point, Raffel’s undoing had become all but a matter of time. His plan, as such plans often do, included the mechanism of its ultimate failure.
The guards upon whom he depended to carry out his will were raised from birth to be the eunuch protectors of the Olgolyth estate’s playthings. Worse than that none had any experience with actual procreation or its results. Exposure to birth and a happy childhood wrought unforeseeable changes upon the eunuchs’ disposition towards their master. One guard even fell in love with the infant. The guard, nicknamed Maggot, even went so far as to give the girl a name. Lillon he called her. A shorting of what the rest of the villa’s inhabitants called their charge: The Little One.
As Maggot spent more of his days watching Lillon grow and play and more of his nights on the other side of Leondria’s suit’s door while she screamed, he began to consider his master’s goals in a new and wholly unfavourable light. When Lillon was 23 (about six in human years) Raffel finally went too far. Leondria’s final screams broke down the last of Maggot’s loyalty. He cried then for the first time since he had been separated from his manhood 50 years before. Maggot spent the next decade sneaking the means of escape from beneath his master’s and overseer’s noses. He hoarded the most expensive trade goods he could get his hands on. The overseer’s taste for rare spices paved the road to freedom.