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Star
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2014
- Location
- AZ
There was the blow, and that was all she could remember of her fall on the battlefield. She came back to consciousness in the slaver's wagon, stripped of her arms and armor. The mercenaries already took their pieces and sold the rest for scrap. All she wore as she sat shackled was her linen gambeson and trousers. The dark wagon gave no clue of its destination as it rumbled along the rough stone road.
The land of Shade seemed a paradox. it was a lush patch of ground, arable and fertile, supporting many while surrounded by arid wastes and severe mountains. Nestled among them, the people who lived there were prosperous and happy, secure in their valley that seemed to be always in shadow, even at noon in summer. This land was ruled by the mage-lord Sezarius, a man who loved his people and saw to their well-being, but also kept himself withdrawn from them except for festivals and public ceremonies. This land was the slaver wagon's first stop.
The wagon pulled into a discreet entrance where the lord could view the goods in privacy. He saw her and handed the trader the going rate for slaves of her quality. Still woozy from her last battle. she is unshackled, brought into a standing position, and frog-marched to a chamber in the basement dungeons. There, her arms are brought over head and put in manacles hanging from the ceiling. Standing in the middle of the room, she can be inspected from all angles.
A foul-smelling compound brings her to full alertness to her surroundings. in the dim candlelight, she can't see the details of the mage-lord, but sees his robed form and can dimly see racks of whips and covered trays on tables.
"Ah, that woke you up, finally. From your garb, I would say you were a warrior on some battle. I shall tell you now that your batles are over. You will serve me in a new capacity. Do not think of rescue or ransom; your lord likely already thinks you dead. Serve me well and you will treated well and rewarded. Do not and you will learn I carry the harshest consequences."
Sezarius's voice rolled off like silk, urbane and soothing, but there was a power behind his words that could make men cringe.
The land of Shade seemed a paradox. it was a lush patch of ground, arable and fertile, supporting many while surrounded by arid wastes and severe mountains. Nestled among them, the people who lived there were prosperous and happy, secure in their valley that seemed to be always in shadow, even at noon in summer. This land was ruled by the mage-lord Sezarius, a man who loved his people and saw to their well-being, but also kept himself withdrawn from them except for festivals and public ceremonies. This land was the slaver wagon's first stop.
The wagon pulled into a discreet entrance where the lord could view the goods in privacy. He saw her and handed the trader the going rate for slaves of her quality. Still woozy from her last battle. she is unshackled, brought into a standing position, and frog-marched to a chamber in the basement dungeons. There, her arms are brought over head and put in manacles hanging from the ceiling. Standing in the middle of the room, she can be inspected from all angles.
A foul-smelling compound brings her to full alertness to her surroundings. in the dim candlelight, she can't see the details of the mage-lord, but sees his robed form and can dimly see racks of whips and covered trays on tables.
"Ah, that woke you up, finally. From your garb, I would say you were a warrior on some battle. I shall tell you now that your batles are over. You will serve me in a new capacity. Do not think of rescue or ransom; your lord likely already thinks you dead. Serve me well and you will treated well and rewarded. Do not and you will learn I carry the harshest consequences."
Sezarius's voice rolled off like silk, urbane and soothing, but there was a power behind his words that could make men cringe.