In the closing years of the Third Era, the Arcane University of the Imperial City sponsored a great many expeditions to uncover the secrets of this or that ancient ruin or newly unearthed tomb. A number of these yielded important finds, and have been subsequently well documented. What is less well known however is that the majority of these missions were far, far less glamorous. Indeed, there was a period when it seemed hardly a week would pass without some shopkeeper seeking to extend his cellars and accidentally breaking into some forgotten Ayleid chamber and nothing would then do but that some hapless minor mage be sent to stick his head into this malodorous hole and catalogue such phantoms, secrets, artifacts and horrors as might (or more frequently, might not) be found.

As a serving apprentice at Arcane University, it was frequently my dubious honor to be selected for such missions. The tale I wish to recount began with just such a job, one that seemed entirely unremarkable at the time. Ayleid crypt under basement, check. One deranged spirit long since separated from any humanity it might once have possessed. Two animated skeletons, faithfully standing guard over a cache of treasures long since moldered into dust. Of treasure there was little. A modest quantity of coin; a few unremarkable potions in dirt encrusted flasks; a pair of welkynd stones; and one dagger of elven pattern with what appeared to be a minor frost enchantment. At least, those are the items I listed in my report to the University.

What made me suspect the secret room, I really couldn't say. I would like to say that it was simple diligence, examining and testing every rusted fitting and inlaid stone until I found one that moved. Alas, I was far too jaded with these "hole in the ground" missions by this stage to take any such care. Nor did I, in the manner of the heroes of popular romances, casually lean against a torch bracket and trigger the locking mechanism by complete accident. It was perhaps a little of both: delve into enough old ruins and begin to develop an instinct for when something is hidden, and suspected the door was relatively easy to find and open.

Inside was a short passage leading to what seemed to have been a study for a mage. The room was in rather better condition than most of the ruin, whether due to some magical preservation spell or simply by virtue of being more recent I could not say. Nevertheless, "better preserved" in this case largely meant mulch rather than dust. Still, I set to identifying the items that might be of interest the the University. A couple of scrolls for mid level spells; a minor spell tome; a dusty set of alchemical apparatus, and a curious glass jar.

The jar seemed, at first glance to be one of those ship-in-a-bottle creations beloved of old sailors. Except that instead of a ship, this jar contained a rack of the sort used in torture and interrogation. Nor was the rack empty; a tiny figurine of a naked young woman had been placed upon the rack, restrained in such a way as to leave her completely open to her captor's pleasure. I recall chuckling at this, thinking that the jar might fetch a weighty purse from a well-to-do collector, one of those whose tastes ran to damsels in this particular manner of distress.

And then the woman in the jar turned and looked right at me!

She was alive! Now that I looked closely, I wondered how I could ever have thought otherwise. I could see her breast rise and fall with her breathing; even as I watched, she shifted in her bonds, evidently trying to find a less uncomfortable position in her bondage. It took a moment or two for this to fully sink in - the jar contained a living, breathing woman!

Perhaps, Dear Reader, you feel I jumped to conclusions here? That I failed to consider the possibility that this could be some sprite or spirit bound to the jar for some arcane purpose? That it might be a lure set to entice the unwary to open a portal to some unsavory realm? Even that it might have been an illusion, crafted for the simple purposes of titillating the sort of jaded appetites I referred to earlier. If I am truthful (and by this stage, I see little to be gained from prevarication) then I must confess that all these things occurred to me, but only later. At that time there seemed only one inescapable conclusion - that this was an actual woman, somehow reduced and imprisoned in a jar.

And so it was, that I did what any right minded person might be expected to do in such circumstance: I reached out my hand to open the jar and release the captive from within.

To be continued ...