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 To Start Anew (Or at least with a new owner)

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Vy'sintyr
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Number of posts : 24
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Points : 18
Registration date : 2007-06-26

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Title: Slave

PostSubject: To Start Anew (Or at least with a new owner)   Sun Dec 07, 2008 6:22 pm

The crisp mourning air was the same heat filled stench that was last night... Damned caves... The temperature down here never seemed to change. And his half Elven vision was not good enough to pick out almost anything down here... Sure he had great night vision. However, it was nothing to a full elves...Which was pathetic compared to a Drows.... So he waited for lights to be brought up... He sat in a cell alone... One of few that was alone... But that was because he was a warrior... They didn’t want their other merchandise to be tainted by him... In any way... He was sitting gently with his feet crossed and under him Indian style. He was honestly not caring about the sounds around him... Most of the other slaves were still sleeping getting what rest they could... But he was meditating... Preparing himself for the day ahead.. Today was his day at the ring... Either he sold to a new master or he went to the fighting rings to live for how ever long he was able....

As the torches were lit and the slavers were letting in the first wave of early mourning viewers he didn’t rouse... Neither their initial jeers or praises pulled him out of his trance... He still heard them, he just didn’t answer for a time... Eventually he opened his eyes blinking through the gloom around.. He could make out innumerable creatures moving through... He was certain some were gladiator owners... But he would not sell well to them... He was a slave of interest.. He came with a contract... Not that he expected anyone to listen to it or even abide by it... But they had to sign it before they could buy him... And it warmed about his desire for peace and generally passive ways.... Yes he could fight...Scars all over his bare chest and arms could only have been from battle. But that was then... He was not a warrior anymore then he was still a noble monk.. Or servant in good standing of his monastery... Ho his life was behind him

He shifted to stand and give the viewers a look at him... He was strong... A little bit weathered from lack of motion in this pit of hell, but he could be returned to great strength with a little care.... His right ring finger bore a grimy ruined ring of indescribable tarnish... It was once beautiful. But now crushed, and locked onto his finger by the swollen knuckles gained from breaking fingers.. Oh yes this man was once a warrior..... He looked around and sat again... Soon his time would come... The auction block was being lit up.... Soon he could be out of this hell and onto another... What would buy him for what purpose? Who knew? He didn’t care... As long as it was not against his code he would comply... He would do almost anything his new master ordered... There was little pride left in him... Unless one knew where to look for it… However even as conquered as he looked, in his eyes still burned an eternal flame... There is something inside him that refuses to be beaten. A hidden place where few can ever tread making it very hard to ever break his unbound soul.....

He moved to dress in what little he had... He buckled his worn boots on, and tied his slightly rusted greaves in place... Then took care to buckle on his worn hide bracers ... Once he bore armor that made kings jealous.. But not now... He was too lowly for it... The slavers would give it to his new owner but he didn’t think he would ever see it again... He didn’t put on a shirt, he didn’t own one. He sighed and waited again to see if there were any late comers wanting to look him over... If not he would simple wait for the master slaver to have his cage opened so he could walk to the podium... Tonight if he still breathed he would sleep somewhere else... His life would move in a new direction...

He knew his time was coming... The cell next to his was emptied and soon the slavers would come his way... He closed his eyes and made a silent prayer to Tyr, God of justice ... Commodo tribuo meus via levamentum , quod dedi mihi vestri digredior sapientia abicio meus phasmatis...... He opened his eyes as the jailor set the key into the lock and started the poor thing. With a turn of its wrist, the lock was undone and the hinged squeaked fiercely at the release of its occupant... A lit corridor lined with various guards awaited him... He strode through with dignity. However, because he was moving for sale he got away with it... They slavers knew fresh wounds would detract from his value... As he moved closer, he could hear the last slave sold... And the master of this filthy place announcing the next comer... Him

“This next slave is a mystery... Formerly a great and noble warrior... The marks on his body show he was either very lucky or very good... But I bid you to think of more then the gladiatorial rings... This slave was educated; he is trained in both reading and writing. Can fight like the devil, but does not kill his foes... He was even well versed in religion.... Oh yes, this slave seems like the best of the lot... Nevertheless, I bid you be warned. He comes sold with a contract... Certain rules must regrettably be followed by the owner of this fine specimen...."

As the crowd no doubt sighed, he stepped onto the stage from a well-hidden door at the back center of it.... If they had, had spotlights he was sure they would have used them as he entered... The chamber was far better lit than any room he had been in a long time... He blinked as his pseudo Elven eyesight flickered away... He took one-step sensitively, then took another with a hidden level of pride.... He moved in a solemn way.. His eyes down. He never looked anyone in the eye and he had a demeanor that could have been easily overlooked... He had the makings of a fine servant..... He moved to be near the Master Slaver and just waited.....

His baggy wrap pants were gathered into his tightly laced boots at his calves. The pants were not exactly new but for a slave they were remarkably well kept. Over his boots, he wore lightly rusted greaves strapped to the front of his bark brown boots. His grey pants showed a light amount of dust and were a bit thread bare, but not shabby looking... He wore no shirt because they never provided him one.... Around his waist, he wore a very long sash; it was once a pristine black. But had faded to a dusty grey.... On his forearms, he wore hardened leather manticles... But the rings had been taken out so they could be used as a form of cheap decoration. His chest and forearms bore the scars of countless battles but none were to large or looked very damaging to his ability to still fight. Even with his eyes lowered he still seemed to hold a noticeable fire in his eyes... In a hidden place deep inside him... There was something about him that refused to be controlled or dominated... Yet he seemed complacent everywhere else...*

"It is required that whomever buys this individual cannot use him as a public combatant. He cannot be released from his station for the next twenty years... And don’t worry about him becoming too old for you before you get a chance to see his fine skill in use... This fine young warrior may already be in his nineties. But he will live for many more years if nature takes its continued course... But if this fine creature is not enough we have an additional package to be granted to whomever the lucky bidder is.... This addition should make up for any inconvenience his contract adds to ownership. This male comes with these fine fighting-knives come also as part of the package... Even if this male does not want to fight, I am sure he can be convinced to train other solders...”

another pair of slave's came out carrying a tree stump, and sunken into that stump, a pair of Mantis blade fighting knives. Curved slightly with a foot long blade from one side and a three inch blade protruding from where the pummel should have been... A simple crimson wrap around their handles.. The darkened steel blades tempered highly and forged by a Master Smith


“His fighting style is one unseen on this side of Fearun… He not only uses his blades in ways few could fathom he uses them efficiently... With his little knives he has been seen to best eight men armed with shield or spear ... Shall we start this bidding at one hundred and fifty gold pieces?"


(((((Latin translation of his prayer "Please grant my road comfort, and offer me your devine wisdom to humble my spirit)))))
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Bianca Rosemont
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Number of posts : 166
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Points : 163
Registration date : 2012-04-19

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PostSubject: Re: To Start Anew (Or at least with a new owner)   Tue Apr 24, 2012 5:16 pm

The trip wasn’t long, not as long as she had expected it to be. The silence was a gift after what she had to deal with. “What was I thinking, allowing myself to get involved with those…..those.” she growls. “Pointed ear men!” she shakes her head smiling at the feel of Whiskers soft fur brushing up against the back of her neck, speaking softly to him knowing he was asleep. “Well now we can see about getting you something tasty to eat.”

Bianca’s smile grows as she spots the mouth of the cave ahead. It was just as the male had shown her; it would be easily passed by if one did not know what they were looking for, shrouded by the overgrowth of some trees and other plants. She pushed passed, stepping down into the damp dark opening. She had walked for what seemed like an eternity in silence, surprised by the ease of it, there were no obstacles in her path, no struggle in finding what way to go. It was a clear the path more traveled and well-kept with the larger rocks pushed off to the side. Her eyes widened as she stepped out of the cave onto a busy road, majority of the city’s residents having dark skin, she rolled her eyes as she thinks to herself. “And yes of course pointed ears.”

She turns her head quickly the sounds of a whip cracking, shackles rattling and the commands given in a deep female voice demanding her attention, a dark skinned female was dragging a small group of males and females behind her, they all huddled together their eyes darting around as they took in their surroundings, she led them to a small entrance before disappearing from sight.

Curiosity being one of her many weaknesses, she followed her, feet pounding against the cobblestone as her pace quickened. She followed the female down a set of stairs into a long…what appeared to be hallway? With cells on both sides along its entire length or at least as far as she could see. Bianca’s nose wrinkled the strong smell of urine, mold and whatever else the filthy place decided to let sit made her stomach turn. She continued down the hall glancing in at each grouping as she walked by, males and females huddled close together backs against the wall, their shackles remained most of their clothing stripped from them to put their bodies on display. They all looked sickly many appearing close to death, their pale skin almost completely hidden by the filth that covered their flesh.

Bianca sighs, stopping a dark skinned male that was passing by. “Excuse me; do you have anything that isn’t half dead?” The male nods, his eyes quickly taking Bianca in, lingering only for a moment on the pouch against her hip as if taking in its contents through its leather covering. He leads her half way down the hall raising his hand to motion towards a cell on the left that contains a male, alone unlike the others. Bianca smirked as she watched him; he sat at the back like the rest, shackled and half naked leaning against the wall.

The male standing beside her clears his throat to get Bianca’s attention before speaking. “This one is not as cheap as the rest, he is strong and obedient.” He says as he kicks the cell to get his attention, trying to make him look up at them, Bianca nods as she grabs her pouch pulling a few gold coins and gems from it.”I do not wish to wait for the auction; this should be more than enough.” The male nods quickly taking the payment before unlocking the cell door. “If he has any belongings bring them here.” The man nods as he rushes off leaving the door cracked open.

Bianca pulls open the door, her eyes not leaving the male as she approaches, he does not back away out of fear like the others would have, just remains still and silent watching her as well. “Stand.” She says in a low voice wanting to see if what the man had told her was true, and it was he pushed off the ground bringing himself to his feet so close to her she could feel the warmth of his body heating her cool flesh as he towered over her. She reaches out lightly running her fingertips down his chest; he doesn’t pull away or try to stop her. Her fingers stop at the edge of his pants as she looks up at him slowly pulling them down letting them fall to his ankles.

“Here you go miss.”

The dark skinned male says as he hurries into the cell laying his belongings on the floor near the corner, his eyes widening as he sees the other male standing nude in front of his new owner. “Bring me a bucket and towel; I cannot take him out of here covered in this filth.” Bianca says watching as the male rushes out returning only a moment later with what she had requested, placing it on the floor at her feet. She motions to his shackles having the man remove them before leaving once more.

Bianca leans down placing the small towel in the bucket soaking it before she pulls it out giving it a squeeze, the water was cold but it would have to do. She smirks as she looks up at him once more pressing the cloth gently to his chest, he gasps as the cold water begins to drip down traveling along his flesh leaving streaks through the dirt dried on him. She scrubs, his muscles tightening as she moves to the more heated parts of his body, making her giggle. She pauses for a moment her eyes inspecting his body that is now a few shades lighter than it was before. Perking her brow, her eyes come to a stop between his legs. She takes her foot placing it between them pushing at them lightly forcing them to spread. Bianca drops down onto her knees, dipping the towel once more before cupping him in her freehand, moving him as needed her face inches from him as she carefully cleans every part. She drops the cloth back into the bucket its once clear water now brown before she leans forward closing her eyes inhaling his thick rich scent, she pushes herself to her feet with a satisfied smile at a job well done.

“Dress yourself.”

She says as she watches him, curious of how he will react.”

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Vy'sintyr
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Male
Number of posts : 24
Reputation : 0
Points : 18
Registration date : 2007-06-26

Character Information
Weapons and Armor (a general list please):
Title: Slave

PostSubject: Re: To Start Anew (Or at least with a new owner)   Mon May 07, 2012 3:12 pm

He ignored them, the antics of another would be owner coming and going was nothing new. He was in a cage but that didn’t make him on display. Instead he sat, in plain view as he was before they came and quietly meditated and thought. This was not just a punishment , it was a lesson to be learned, one that he would need to understand perfectly before he moved on with his life. Whom ever it was would likely leave him be as so many others had. It was nothing to fret or think about during his daily meditations. No he had more pressing concerns, like the color or the slime growing on what he believed was the western wall of his cell. Or maybe it was north. Directing was so hard to fathom under ground.

But soon enough he heard coins travel between hands and a his cell unlocked. Perhaps this was the day he would exit this infernal under ground realm of sin, debauchery and vice, a place justice had no way to triumph in. Vy stood at attention as she decided to strip and wash him. This was not the first time he had been inspected while in these dreadful place, though the care she took as she touched him was a first. He had not known a soft touch in countless days or was it weeks? Sure he could see in this gloom but it hurt his eyes to be in the dark so long, the only glimmer of light oft coming with a torch. It was interesting that she had him unshackled. He wondered what exactly that look in her eyes was. Yet he said nothing as he stood unveiled before her.

Curiouser yet, she Bent over before him and grabbed a rag form the bucket of water at his feet. His eyebrow raised as she brought it to his chest to , wash him? He shivered gasped lightly at the distraction of the cold water in the gloomy cell. He was not as immune to temperature as his fairer kin. The cold water was a shock, but one he rapidly adapted to and ignored further as she cleaned his chest arms and neck. With half of his washed it was easier to see the many years of scars on his tanned flesh.

She leaned in, inspected him for a few moments before her eyes dropped down his body. He didn’t shy form it at all, he was anything but self conscious. Her foot between his was greeted with compliance, and he easily shifted his feet to shoulder width apart or further if she demanded it. He was not expecting her to drop to her knees. Or the soft intimate touche that followed. Between hot breath, soft hands and the cool rag a reaction grew rapidly before her eyes and in her hand. He wasn’t ashamed as he became harder to hold in only one hand. But what shocked even him most was that once she cleaned him, and as she leaned in and took in his scent. She did nothing else. She merely took in his scent as she watched him bob before her eyes at full attention.

And then she stood and ignored the reaction she brought forth in his loins. Very well. She ordered him to dress and with out hesitation he complied. He never met her eyes as he moved. Nor did her seeming lack of interest in him bother him. He simply removed the pants still around his ankles and dressed. He donned his old gray pants, soft boots, hardened ring covered greaves and then his lamellar armor robe. His Mantis daggers were sheathed in their places in his boots and finally he donned his bracers. Dressed fully he merely stood before her waiting on her next instruction. So far he has been entirely silent and not a single word has been uttered passed his lips.
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Bianca Rosemont
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Number of posts : 166
Reputation : 1
Points : 163
Registration date : 2012-04-19

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PostSubject: Re: To Start Anew (Or at least with a new owner)   Mon May 07, 2012 5:12 pm

Bianca had noticed his excitement, but now was not the time and really not the place she had just fed not to long before. She watched him in silence as he dressed and stood before her. She takes his hand placing her coin purse in it taking only two out shoving them into her pocket, as he holds it she takes her other hand wrapping her fingers around his wrist digging her nail into his flesh until she could feel the warmth of his blood coating her fingertip bringing it to her mouth smearing it across her lips before licking it away and releasing her grip on him. “Take this go to the tavern as the sun begins to rise on the surface, I will be there waiting for you. “With that said she quickly vanishes leaving nothing but a swirling mist behind.
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Vy'sintyr
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Registration date : 2007-06-26

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Title: Slave

PostSubject: Re: To Start Anew (Or at least with a new owner)   Mon May 07, 2012 6:58 pm

Coin in hand and a raised eyebrow, Vy simply walked out of the cell that had been his home for longer than he liked.


>End thread<

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