Ghost of Lady Murias, The

"The Ghost of Lady Murias" by VeraGemini

It was a chill and moonless night. A great storm had blown in off Loch Murk, a storm so large and furious that it quickly swept across all of the Realm; from Usk through Winter Wold, and all the way through the forests. It was even threatening the thatched roofs of the farmhouses in Wexfordshire Valley. Inside the town itself, a few hardy travelers huddled around the fire in the Thresher's Roost, sipping ale and toasting thick slices of the bread that the town was known far and wide for. Suddenly the doors came open, and a gust of wind carried a miniature torrent of frost-bitten leaves into the inn leaves, and one tiny, equally frost-bitten elf. She slid across the floor, pushed by the wind, and landed in a crumpled heap with a thunk against the bar.

Most of the inn's patrons grumbled and swore, but one, a giant trader in arms and weapons just laughed, shut the door, and offered his arm to help the little elf up.

"In Usk we would all be out dancing in the forest on such a fine night as this!"

"And in Drune I'd be toasty warm in my cottage, dreaming of picking the gold from your frozen bodies in the morning..." The little elf muttered, picking herself up from the floor and straightening her cloak. "Innkeep, a flask of wine to ease the ache in my bones! I had heard that Murias was a quiet and gentle place, yet I have been harassed half to death by those screeching Furies! I thought I had found refuge for the night in some stone ruins, but nooooo... a big one in a blue dress chased me all the way here, howling 'lotta lotta lotta lotta'. Lotta what? I was tempted to show her a 'lot of' my dagger!"

Murdoch, the innkeeper, paused in drawing the elf's wine and looked at her for a long moment, then slid the flask across the bar.

"That was no Fury, little one. That was the Ghost of Lady Murias."

"Ghost?" She looked hesitant. "I don't believe in ghosts."

"You should believe in them, little one" Murdoch continued, "If you wish to be safe in our town on a night like this. Why, you're standing on the very spot where Lord Murias was struck down, many many years ago!"

The little elf raised an eyebrow, and the travelers around the fire all leaned closer to hear. Murdoch glanced around the room, looking especially hard at the dark corners, before speaking.

"It is true that we are a peaceful farming village now, but it has not always been so. Years ago, when Murias was founded, a group of farmers banded together to build a grain mill that all of them could share. It was a fine mill, and they all prospered, until the family on whose land the mill stood decided they had the right to say who could and couldn't use the mill. They even came to believe they had the right to demand that the people call them Lord and Lady, and insisted that all bow down in their presence! The people didn't care much for this at all, I can tell you! One family started grinding their own grain, using stone hammers they made themselves. The grain was perhaps not as fine as what was ground in the mill, but it had the sweet taste of freedom, and the bread baked from it became known in lands away from the valley..."

Murdoch paused and took a sip of his own ale.

"The Lord became very angry, and sent his men to demand the family use the Murias mill, or pay him a tribute in gold. When they refused, he had his men seize the lot of them, and threw them into the dungeon of his fine castle to rot. All of them, except one daughter, by the name of Lotta. She had taken a cart of goods to Wen to sell, and when she returned she learned what happened. She grabbed her grain hammer and went to the castle, but it was already too late. It had been more than a fortnight since she'd gone, and her family had all starved in the castle dungeon. The spirit of Duach himself filled Lotta, and she struck down Lady Murias where she stood with one blow from that hammer! Her dress stained red with Murias blood, she ran to the mill, found Lord Murias, and slew him as well. By the time her rage cooled, there was not a man, woman, or child of the Murias family left alive, nor anyone who had worked for them. All the fields ran red with blood, like rivers, they say. Then, the spirit of Enid came, and made the earth drink up the blood, turning the land richer than any other."

"The people prospered, and the town that grew came to be known as Murias, after the wicked family that once ruled here. Not because we wanted to honor them, mind you, but because the folk of the other towns called it so, and it stuck. They say that the Furies out in the valley are the remnants of Lotta's rage. And, they say, the ghost of Lady Murias still roams, looking for Lotta... to gain her own vengeance."

Just then the winds caught a shutter on one of the tavern's windows, banging it against the frame. The giant arms trader startled and spilled his ale, and in the corner the rough mercenary from Kurz muttered a quick prayer to Finvarra. The little elf gulped down the rest of her wine, then laughed nervously.

"You spin a good tale, innkeep! I must admit you had me going with the hammer and the red blood-stained dress. But now, I need my rest. Have you any rooms open?"

Murdoch nodded, "Up the stairs, third door on the right."

She left, and the other travelers returned to their ale. Murdoch began polishing his glasses. And outside, the wind still howled....

"Lottalottalottalottalotta!"