(( Every weekend I try to post one book from my player-written library collection for others to enjoy. You can find the library on the Antiona Bayle server, under the name of Ellithia. The home is located in the North Freeport mage tower, bottom floor where the magical housing is. If you’d like to donate a book to the collection please just leave me a message in game, and if you’re from another server I’ll make sure I send a blank book your way. Thank you! ))
The Story of Saryrn:
By Love Betrayed
Many centuries ago, long before the gods had forsaken Norrath, there lived a strikingly beautiful young woman, beloved of Erollisi Marr. It was said that her laugh could make flowers bloom and she embraced life, full of love. Everyone spoke of her beauty and kindness, and she lived and loved to the fullest, embracing a love of food, drink, art, music–everything that life had to offer. The Goddess of Love Herself chose to bless Saryrn, promising a rare and special love, a soul mate, and giving her a vision of him.
She met him, a paladin of Marr, and they fell deeply in love and married. He served in the Temple of Marr in Freeport by day; their nights were spent entangled in each others arms in a modest little home outside the City. It seemed as if Erollisi’s prediction had come true, and for a time Saryrn was happier than she had ever been, completely fulfilled in her
life and love. Her paladin was her other half and her reason for living; and she was his–or so she believed.
As time passed and the idyllic honeymoon period faded, she began to feel as if something was wrong. Her paladin seemed less attentive, distracted, and the thought that he might have found another clawed at her tender heart. She had given herself freely, allowing herself to freefall into love with abandon, and suddenly it seemed as if there would be no one there to catch her.
Hurt and confused, she began to question him: Did he really love her? Was he happy? Was there anything else she could do to bring them closer? His half-hearted assurances did nothing to ease her mind. Her pain and distrust grew into a burden far too great for her delicate shoulders.
One morning, after he had tarried overlong at home and found himself running late, her husband left the lunch she had packed for him behind. Though her heart still cried out over his treatment of her, the devoted wife picked up the basket and went to bring it to him, combing the streets of Freeport on his normal patrol route, but he was nowhere to be found.
Finally, after searching for hours, she heard his voice, rushing to him. There he was, at a table inside an inn. A pretty young woman leaned over him, her hand on his shoulder, and her heart shattered. All of her fears coalesced into hard reality: her husband had found someone else. As she watched the two of them laughing and flirting, Saryrn realized the cruel joke Erollisi Marr had played on her, and fury filled her heart. She had given herself freely and fully, because of the
Goddess’s assurance–what a vicious trick that had been! Perhaps the Goddess had been unable to bear the adoration Saryrn had commanded, or her beauty, which had been said to rival the Goddess’s. For whatever reason, she had obiously decided that Saryrn would suffer.
Freed from the false love she had been cursed with and full of the righteous fury of a woman scorned, Saryrn plotted her revenge. She lured her husband and his new lover to the house that had once been the scene of marital bliss and would now be their torment.
Over the next few weeks, she took her revenge on the cheating couple–torturing them with acid and flayed skin, hot irons, skewers and blades. The woman was weaker than the paladin and escaped to the mercy of death much faster than he did. Finally, he
passed as well, but her rage and pain was not satiated. She tried to move on, but Erollisi’s curse followed her.
In the next years, a similar pattern arose:
Saryrn would meet a young man, marry him, and he would betray her. She would punish them as she had her first husband and his
lover, only to fall into the same trap, set by the jealous Goddess of Love.
As the years passed and her despair grew, she slowly came to realize she was no longer alone. A voice spoke to her, calling her attention to the injustices and injuries done to her. He called himself Baraguj Szuul, and whispered to her of unbelievable possibilities and the weakness of man. His voice was soon joined by another–Maareq the Prophet. The prophet foretold her ascension into the Pantheon of the Gods. Under his tutelage, she
finally turned completely from the worship of Love and embraced the dark arts.
No longer did she dread the punishments she had to perform when someone betrayed her–
instead, she sought these transgressors out, thrilling to the sounds of anguish as she meted out her special brand of justice. With
each punishment, her vision of the future grew clearer–a place composed of the most exquisite pain. Such was the power of her mind that it took physical form: a citadel of obsidian, rising out of the agony of the world. She took shelter within its walls.
She slowly left her mortality and memories of that life behind. Moving through the dreams of mortals, she lured more and more transgressors to her Citadel. Here, surrounded by minions she created and the two who had helped raise her to this place, she finally
ascended to her rightful place as Saryrn, Goddess of Pain and Mistress of the Plane of Torment. This sent shockwaves through the pantheon and though the light gods used her
as an example of why the gods should not meddle in the affairs of mortals, in their wisdom the dark gods disagreed, seeing the new Goddess as the perfect way to extend
their power in the realm of Norrath. Innoruuk, Cazic-Thule, and Bertoxxulus–the Dark Triad–quickly embraced her, drawing her into a Pact.
Saryrn’s Plane is crafted entirely of black obsidian, beautiful and stark. The moans and screams of the tormented rise in unison as a choir and the air itself will burn one’s lungs. The land is in a permanent state of twilight and one may see the Goddess Herself wander the Citadel and outlying area, tending to the tormented Herself. Those Blessed with her
touch may suffer a moment or an eternity, according to Her glorious whim, and all fear Her and know Her Name.
Blessed be the Goddess, and a curse upon Erollisi Marr–in her jealousy she sought to destroy one whose beauty outshone hers, but in the end she failed, elevating Saryrn far past her mortal existance, to herself walk among the Gods as equal.
((A Saryrnite’s view of the Lore of Saryrn’s Creation))