Slaves, eyes in the night, and sloppy drunkards (solo)

Darian bides his time working in the slave market while he waits to be contacted by his mysterious employers.

(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy roleplay forum. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)

A lawless town of anarchists, built on the ruins of an ancient mining city. [Lore]

Moderator: Morose

Slaves, eyes in the night, and sloppy drunkards (solo)

Postby Darian on November 25th, 2011, 3:59 pm

Image
Timestamp: 15th of Fall

He stood almost bored outside of the grand tent Callik currently occupied, peddling his 'wares' to those with the coin for handy slaves. There had been little action over the past few days, a sever down turn from what had went down on the first day of the season, but it gave him time to think. His life now felt like not his own, his hands and legs bound by unseen chains. With his freedom to leave the city as he pleased taken away he found himself feeling clustered on the dirty streets of Sunberth even though he had not desire to leave the city in any case. It was the principle of the matter that got to him and the fact that they could and did exercise such dreadful power over him set his blood to boil while causing a rare shiver to come down his spine. For the moment, he had not the power to change the way of things, and perhaps that was how his victims felt right before he killed them, or even the men and women he had used for his own designs over the years had felt this same powerlessness that so consumed him now. Power was fickle, favoring the hands of the lucky, and the determined and for the moment, he found he had not enough to break the chains that so bound him. At least he would be getting paid.

Another man with broad shoulders and an ample belly came up to the front of the tent, and sighing softly to himself he stood up a bit straighter and held his hand out for the man to stop. He was a regular here, often leaving with a couple young girls and coming back a ten-day later or so. It was a bit less of a process this way dealing with people who knew how things worked in the slave market or at least this particular section of it anyway and when the man stopped Darian immediately walked over and began patting the man down checking for weapons. His pat down was through, he himself knowing where he would hide weapons on his person and he came away with three wicked looking daggers the man kept on his person, and not even speaking a word, he motioned for the man to enter the tent while he himself busied with opening open the chest and throwing the weapons inside. Callik didn't like weapons around his stock, things sometimes got ugly when the bidding got heated and it was better that the consumers only had fists to settle their arguments with rather than blades that could easily turn things into a blood bath.

Another loud exhale escaped from his lips. It was going to be a long day.


Image
I have retired Darian, and I apologize for any inconveniences this has caused with anyone threading with this character. Feel free to NPC him in any threads that he is involved in if that is of course ok with the moderator. Again, I am sorry for any inconveniences.
User avatar
Darian
Player
 
Posts: 277
Words: 270515
Joined roleplay: April 25th, 2011, 2:12 am
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes

Slaves, eyes in the night, and sloppy drunkards (solo)

Postby Darian on November 30th, 2011, 8:00 pm

Image
Through the canvas walls he could here shuffling about and the cries of the breathy auctioneer as her girlish voice called out the opening bid on one slave or another. His fist clenched and unclenched reflexively as he heard more than one raised voice reply earnestly with their own offer, all eager to get at the flesh that Callik so willingly peddled. He remembered well his own days amongst the chained ones, his arms and ankles bound with his will not his own. It was not a pleasant time to be certain, but his blades spoke more than his words ever could and it was through them he at last found liberation from the all too terrible bonds of slavery. Inside his chest his heart pounded furiously despite the obvious that he was no longer a slave, no longer one of those put before men to be bought for miza to do terrible things, but the chorus of voices and the clatter of miza on wood was all too reminiscent of his time in such a spotlight. The taste of it all was bitter in his mouth, but such a time had come and past like many things in his life, and this bitter medicine he could swallow for the sake of doing what was asked of him.

A tall man with harsh features ambled from a tent across the way and Darian could feel the sickly looking ones beady eyes combing his form. The way he shambled towards him with a gait leaning towards a slight limp reminded him of someone but of who he could not remember. With old withered features, and sharp distinct bone structure, the elderly man had a distinct impish look to him, only enforced further by the thick smell of rose oil pouring from his smallish frame.

The scent hit him hard with the memory of the last time he had encountered someone so richly smelling, and it was anything but fond. Flashes of bare flesh slapping together rhythmically while tears streamed down a younger Darian's face burned bright in his mind and his eyes clenched shut as he tried to push the imagery from his head. It only got worse. The man, the man's face was over him now, beating him mercifully with a whip as soon as he got the pleasure he sought, and Darian winced as he saw his self cry out in pain when the man dug a knife into his younger version's shoulder. So much misery, so much pain but such was his time in slavery.

His eye flashed open to focus on the elderly man just a pace or two from him, his breath rattling out from him. Blood flashed before his eyes, but he calmed himself and simply took a step forward, his hazel eyes locked on to the man. A mixture of hate and fear coursed through his veins but still he spoke his next words calmly. "Welcome sir, I'll need your weapons before you enter and enjoy my master's wares."

The man seemed to turn his nose up at this but with a snort of indignation he proffered a dagger from within his thick cloak and handed it over, which Darian was quick to take and put into his own pocket. "I'll have to check you myself of course, incase you forgot where you hid a weapon."

"You do not take me at my word?" the older man uttered in mocking disbelief, his crooked smile betrayed his utter lack of surprise. Darian resisted the urge to spit in the man's face, as he silently moved forward and patted the man down, checking for even the slightest chance of a weapon on the man's form. Even through his thick leather gloves he could feel the man's gangly body, and sagging skin drawing a slight shudder of disgust from him that he hid by abruptly staring up and gesturing the man in. His hand twitched as he thought to put a dagger through the man's eye as the object of his hate pushed roughly past him to enter the tent but he stayed his hand. Callik wouldn't be too happy with that, and neither would be killing a slaver like that man out in the open be a good idea. No, to have that one's head would take more than a little bit of planning and a nice quiet spot for him to work. It drew a grin from him, and smiling Darian took his place back at the entrance of the tent as he entertained thoughts of torturing the man for long hours.


Image
I have retired Darian, and I apologize for any inconveniences this has caused with anyone threading with this character. Feel free to NPC him in any threads that he is involved in if that is of course ok with the moderator. Again, I am sorry for any inconveniences.
User avatar
Darian
Player
 
Posts: 277
Words: 270515
Joined roleplay: April 25th, 2011, 2:12 am
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes

Slaves, eyes in the night, and sloppy drunkards (solo)

Postby Darian on December 5th, 2011, 5:53 am

Image
Wistful thoughts of blades parting skin from muscle was suddenly, and brutally when he felt something heavy hit him square in the back, sending him toppling over onto the cobblestones, a stream of curses echoing from his lips. He could hear the rush of footsteps go by his head but he was more distracted by the heavy weight bearing down on his narrow back. The bastard brutus, a fellow guard who served with him was lying on top of him and squeezing the precious air from his lungs. Placing his hands against the ground he pressed up with effort, his arms shaking as he did and only then managed to roll the giant of a man off of his back so he could at last take a breath of his own. “What the petch Brutus, have you lost your legs?” Darian growled between gasps as he propped himself up on his elbows, but his words cut short as he saw the man’s bloodied face. Shards of earthen rock decorated the mans face, and his largely shattered nose was the most likely the source for most of the blood pouring from his features. Inside the canvas tent he could hear the shuffling and groaning of the men and women inside and as quick as he could scramble to his feet he breached the entrance of the tent and looked around to see more than a few of the guard flat on their back but largely unharmed.

Off in a corner, the broad shouldered and easily recognizable form of his boss leaned against the canvas holding his bleeding head as he looked around, seeming to be a bit disoriented. "Man was a patching mage, incinerated some of my stock after throwing down my guards with wind and trying for my life. Brutis took that massive disk of earth in the face for me, though I don't think he intended to. I'm blaming Signias for this!" Callik continued to rant as he pulled himself up and even went as far to draw his gladius out and advance on Darian as if he was going to run him through right then and their. "This is your fault, letting the patching mage in, and I'll see that you personally replace my lost stock before the weeks end else I'll have your head!" His boss continued, pressing the edge of his blade against Darian's throat before withdrawing it and walking away muttering to himself. For the moment, Darian visibly relaxed breathing out a sigh of relief before he remembered his master's heated words. He needed to find three slaves to replace those lost, and for some reason he expected that to be none to easy. Quickly as he had came in he disappeared out into the open, his hopes directed to wrapping up this unpleasant situation as quick as possible. To bad it wouldn't be easy.


Image
I have retired Darian, and I apologize for any inconveniences this has caused with anyone threading with this character. Feel free to NPC him in any threads that he is involved in if that is of course ok with the moderator. Again, I am sorry for any inconveniences.
User avatar
Darian
Player
 
Posts: 277
Words: 270515
Joined roleplay: April 25th, 2011, 2:12 am
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes

Slaves, eyes in the night, and sloppy drunkards (solo)

Postby Darian on December 5th, 2011, 6:30 am

Image
There was a splash as his foot plunged through a puddle left by a overturned barrel of cheap ale, and drew a sigh of disgust from Darian but he had to keep moving. His irritable boss demanded it, and besides that, he was is some desperate need for a good dose of liberation from sitting all day outside the tent. Every stepped he took echoed off the closed walls of the alley, resounding all around as if every step was a rend through the fabric of all that was and in the silence of Sunberth, such steps drew unwanted attention, attention that sometimes came in curious forms. From a cluster of buildings he emerged and out onto the soft loam of the fields he went heading for the small lean twos that dotted the fields he had grown up in. If there was anywhere safe to grab Callik a prisoner, it was out here far from the main center of the city that would prove safest.

Repetitively his feet slapped and squelched in the mud backing under the noonday sun as he sprinted across the field past the men and women going about their daily chores, having not the energy to pay any mind to a strange man running across the land save for those eyes put out their for exactly that purpose. As he ran he rolled his feet to better catch the ground more solidly underneath him while ever sending him forward with his own momentum, his long legged strides taking him father than walking ever could. His arms pumped awkwardly at his sides as he ran, and more than a few times his ankle threatened to roll under him but somehow he managed to keep his footing at the expense of his energy he found as he fell into the side of one such structure, utterly exhausted from his short trek across the open field, and leaned back against it's rough wooden surface to slide down to rest on the ground. He could hear voices and movement inside yet though, a woman's and three children, and one's footsteps that seemed to be heading for the door he was resting right beside.

With a new surge of vitality flowing through him he pushed off the side of the house to drop down in the dirt flat on his back, and grabbing the lip of under end of the house he pulled himself underneath it, crawling fully beneath it's edge just before the door opened and footsteps thundered against the ground behind him. His heart was quick to start hammering in his chest again, but deeper underneath the house he crawled through the mud, and rat carcasses till he found himself far enough to fill comfortable in it's darkness, and thick shade. At least he had a place to relax for now.


Image
I have retired Darian, and I apologize for any inconveniences this has caused with anyone threading with this character. Feel free to NPC him in any threads that he is involved in if that is of course ok with the moderator. Again, I am sorry for any inconveniences.
User avatar
Darian
Player
 
Posts: 277
Words: 270515
Joined roleplay: April 25th, 2011, 2:12 am
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes

Slaves, eyes in the night, and sloppy drunkards (solo)

Postby Darian on December 5th, 2011, 6:49 am

Image
A mewling just before him drew him to crane his neck around to stare dead on into the eyes of a cat, perhaps even the killer of all the rats within this crawlspace he found himself in. It's reflective eyes flashed for the moment it looked at him, and quicker than he could react the cats paw went out and batted him in the side of the face, fine claws cutting through the thin cloth around his face to leave bloodily lines on the rough skin beneath. He wanted to curse aloud, to throttle the cat then and there, but he remembered where he was and when he reached for the nasty beast it skipped easily back and to the side moving well out of his reach much to his own disfavor. Inwardly he cursed and he wondered if he could just bring it close to himself, he could save himself the chance of being caught and exact a bit of revenge on his feline foe in the process. The demon cat seemed gangly as it was as even in the low light he could see it's ribs showing as it's skin seemed to cling loosely to the thin bones. A wicked smile found it's way to his features in that moment and slowly his hands slipped down to his sides. One found it's way to the hilt of his newly modified dagger, slowly unsheathing it from it's place at his though while his other hand rummaged through his pocket to draw out a chunk of dried beef he'd kept wrapped their for his noon day lunch.

Out the hand holding the food went, offering the feline a much needed repast for what seemed to be no risk at all. Still the cat was cautious and wisely so, meowing at him once or twice while it slowly inched forward with baby steps from its' furry paws, its eyes glinting at the vision of the morsel so freely offered in Darian's hand. It seemed still to take bells for the cat to get just a few inches from his hand even though it was more like chimes, though he could surely feel his muscles tensing as he laid across on the packed dirt ground, his knuckles going white from their grip on the dagger. He could feel the section of meat move around slightly as the treat moved slightly around as the cat nibbled at it, seemingly having had dropped it's guard with the stranger's free offering of food. The beast was his now. His cry of victory quickly turned to one of dismay though as his when he twisted and thrust the blade forward, the cat lunged forward and sank it's teeth into his palm, eliciting a small cry of pain from Darian. Blade still traveling it came across to slash against the felines right paw, a spurt of blood wetting the blade but little more as the beast quickly let go of Darian's hand and darted away to go lick it's wounds and hiss vehemently at Darian. Animal enemies as well it seems I have now he mused as he cringed in pain. Suppose thats what one gets when they miss a opportunity.


Image
I have retired Darian, and I apologize for any inconveniences this has caused with anyone threading with this character. Feel free to NPC him in any threads that he is involved in if that is of course ok with the moderator. Again, I am sorry for any inconveniences.
User avatar
Darian
Player
 
Posts: 277
Words: 270515
Joined roleplay: April 25th, 2011, 2:12 am
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes

Slaves, eyes in the night, and sloppy drunkards (solo)

Postby Darian on December 5th, 2011, 4:45 pm

Image
Even with the darkness that hung deep below the house he could just barely make out the tiny grasping hands as they wrapped around the feline's neck that sat curled in a ball still looking rather hatefully at him. For reasons beyond Darian, the cat didn't seem to mind the rough grasp that found its way around its' neck, and didn't even retort violently when the childlike arms dragged in unceremoniously back through a hole in the floor, though the monstrous feline did manage a yowl at such rough treatment. There was but a few moments of quiet after that before a young boy's voice cried out for his ma, his words lost through the thick wooden paneling, but their intent was easy enough to understand. The boy had found the injury, and likely wanted his mother to make things all better. He'd have much yet to learn in the coming years of a harsh life lived on the streets of Sunberth. If all went as planned the boy and his family would make it through the coming harsh winter, but they'd do so decorated in chains with their wills broken, and servitude a second nature to him. Callik was rather talented at breaking slaves in.

Stashing the dagger away, he looked around briefly before he started clawing forward through the muck underneath the house, heading ever so slowly towards the yawning hole he hoped would be enough for him to fit himself through. His shoulders where rather slender but filled with muscle that needed more toning that he had time to build at. The mud seemed to drag tightly at his clothing, pulling him down into the murk, but flexing his forearms and grabbing the supporting beams above him, he slowly pulled himself along and ever closer to his goal. His muscles strained and screamed with effort while his hand flared with pain repetitively as he moved along but he simply gritted his teeth through it all and moved on, slowly reaching the hole that spilled now a warm glow from above. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could see that it was well into night now outside though it hadn't seemed like that, and with a heave of effort he slapped his hands against the edges of the hole and pulled himself up with what was left of his strength so that he landed heavily against the wooden paneled floor when he rose from the pit.

Just on the other side of the thin wall he rested unwillingly next to he could hear the loud laughter of the children, along with even the occasional muttering of the fussing mother. The clatter of wooden spoons on clay plates told him they were eating dinner and he'd counted himself lucky for it. He didn't need to be just lying here, but there wasn't much he could do about it as his muscles were utterly exhausted from sprinting and crawling through the muck down below. They'd find him soon enough though, he had to get up and fast if he didn't want to get caught resting on the floor by those who resided in the house. That would end up very messy he knew very well, and he didn't need that, he needed them alive.

With every ounce of willpower he had left he pushed himself up from the hewn wooden floor, and slowly shambled to his knees, and then his feet as he leaned heavily against the wall. His legs felt like wet sand, and the weight of the mud clinging to his entire body didn't make it much better. It was all in the mind now when the body seemed to give up on itself, it was up to his own willpower to see him through this predicament. Slowly he took his first step forward his boot squelching noisily against the ground as it smacked against the solid wood. Thankfully the noise in the kitchen hadn't dimmed in the slightest and quickly after he took another shambling step forward and then another. The threshold to the room was just a few paces before him, and getting closer with every shaky step he took forwards until finally he was leaning heavily against the wall just inches from the open portal. He could hear a young voice just beyond it, and something soft, purring perhaps? The lad's whose hands he seemed earlier spoke up and reflexively Darian tensed at how close he was. Maybe there was a way of bringing them all to Callik with him saving much of his strength.

In the next heartbeat he acted on his hastily thought out plan, spinning around the doorway only to scoop up the child in his hands, and press his hastily drawn dagger edge first against the hollow of the lad's soft throat. "Breathe and the child dies" Darian growled finding the strength in the waves of adrenaline to pick up the child slightly off the ground and better secure his dagger close to the boy's throat. The woman involuntarily screamed at that, and instantly her children started to cry including the one he held aloft in his own hand a boy barely three years old it looked like.

"Please sir, we haven't a miza to our name, you can't expect to get nothing from robbing" She bawled out cradling her other two children close, as she looked up at Darian tearfully. She'd find no remorse in his eyes though. "I'm here to give you new residence in the tents of the market, and you'd do well to do what I say and come with me or see your boy with his throat split open" Darian growled out again, his rumbling voice and cold eyes leaving no measure for argument. The look of utter confusion on the woman's face was almost laughable, but he had no patience today, and the shuffle of stuff in the background told him that someone else was joining the little gathering fairly soon. "Keep your mouth shut, or I'll kill the child and then come after the others" He spat in a hushed tone, his eyes cutting narrowly at the woman just before he backed up and wrenched himself around the corner with the boy in tow. He could hear heavy footsteps come into the room just a few moments latter, and wrapping a hand around the boy's mouth, he leaned completely still against the wall.

"Meridith, what happened, why are you on the ground?" A deep voice rumbled, and turned even more angry when the woman simply continued to cry wordlessly. Then all of a sudden there was a odd silence, one that was just barely offset by the creaking of the wooden boards underneath the man's heavy footsteps. Darian's whole body went rigged at hearing the stealthy attempt by the man, and pulling the kid up higher from the ground an idea came to him for an subtle move of his own to throw off the man who was somehow now alert to where he was. The mud streaking the floor almost made he swear but it didn't matter now, or even in such context as the woman likely would have pointed out the way went regardless. All he could do was follow through with his plan.

The man's steps were closer now, just a few paces beyond the threshold, though Darian could still tell the man was trying to be as stealthy as possible. Shifting his own weight between his widespread feet, he pulled the boy up higher with his dagger arm tucked just underneath the lad, while his other hand still firmly gripped the boy's mouth to prevent him from screaming again, but the boy seemed stricken even then so quiet and still was he. Unexpectantedly the man whirled around the corner with a large butcher knife leading, and Darian only barely managed to bring the boy to bear as a makeshift shield in front of him when the knife crashed dead center into the boy's chest to emerge from the other side. From just behind the boy Darian watched as the man's smirk turned into horror, and complete disregard it seemed as he pulled the boy from Darian's arms to cradle him in his own. Sifting his grip and stance, he stood up a bit straighter in front of the kneeling father, and just as the man looked up to cast a confused glance over at Darian, the would be blades man drew his blade sharply to the side, the tip of his dagger grazing deep into the soft flesh of the man's neck. For a moment he simply stood there and watched intently as a gash opened up on the man's throat, and streamed forth hot life blood to pour down the man's dirty tunic. He hadn't time to waste watching blood pour so freely though, and stepping around the two soon to be corpses he crossed the threshold again, this time empty handed and covered in blood.

The woman's screamed and even tried to crawl away but a booted foot slamming against her lower back stopped her pathetic attempt at escape short, and reaching out he caught the little girl's hair before she too could try to run away. The oldest, a lad looking like he was 11 summers young, stood just beyond his reach, but Darian simply laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. "Come on boy, I'v got your mother and sister here and if you don't want them share your father's fate, I suggest you all do what I say" His voice was dead calm, even when he took his booted foot off the woman's back, and picked up the young girl to carry over his shoulder. Just below him the woman slowly scrawled to her knees, whimpering and muttering hushed sayings in a language he did not understand. "Of course, of course, just please don't ye hurt any of my babies" she cried out, slowly pulling herself to her feet and taking a step towards Darian defensively when she saw her girl cradled over his shoulder.

"Take another step and find yourself and her without fingers, you'll get her when I get the three of your back to the slaver's markets. You'll have plenty of time then to have quality time together." Darian growled waving the dagger before him though his grip was less than sure on it's handle. The woman was hardly a fighter, and was unarmed and helpless it seemed though, and with the deepest resignation, she took a step back and pulled her remaining son into her embrace, cradling him close. "Move, lead the way, I'll be close behind!" Darian growled to send the woman running and quickly behind her he was off, never putting away the dagger their entire trek across the fields and even when they navigated the tangle of streets in the city proper, and kept them moving fast prodded with insults and veiled threats. To Callik's resident they found themselves and Darian rid himself of the troublesome baggage to leave towards his own quarters, more than happy to put this night behind him. Even to one as him, sometimes such activities left a bad taste in his mouth when coupled by past memory. Slaves indeed they all seemed to the vices that played out in the city, leaving him to wonder the rest of the night was anyone truly free in the city?


Image
I have retired Darian, and I apologize for any inconveniences this has caused with anyone threading with this character. Feel free to NPC him in any threads that he is involved in if that is of course ok with the moderator. Again, I am sorry for any inconveniences.
User avatar
Darian
Player
 
Posts: 277
Words: 270515
Joined roleplay: April 25th, 2011, 2:12 am
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Plotnotes

Slaves, eyes in the night, and sloppy drunkards (solo)

Postby Ink on December 6th, 2011, 4:11 am

And in the Aftermath . . .

Image

The Rewards are Revealed.

Darian :
Brawling 1
Dagger 3
Intimidation 3
Negotiation 2
Observation 3
Running 1
Stealth 1
Tactics 3
Unarmed 1

Lore: Failing to Heed Instincts
Lore: Using a Child as a Shield.
Lore: Identifying with your Captives
Lore: Mud: The Anti-Stealth

And what you're really waiting for. . .

Malediction Effect:

Pros: When wielded, Darian feels more reasons to draw blood or slay his opponents.

Cons: When the dagger has animal blood on it and the hilt is in contact with the wielder he feels as though a small animal is crawling and scratching over his body.

Note: When Darian activates the dagger alone and in the dark, a large ghostly rat can be seen clinging to his chest snarling up at him. It is unknown whether this ghost rat is real or a figment of Darian’s imagination. To be certain will require a modded thread.



Written in the ink :
Have fun with that enchantment. :)

If there are any concerns or problems with my grading please feel free to toss me a PM. I am more than happy to explain my reasons or reevaluate them if you feel I've been unfair.


Image
User avatar
Ink
DS in Sahova
 
Posts: 509
Words: 259510
Joined roleplay: December 3rd, 2011, 6:15 pm
Location: Sahova
Race: Staff account
Office
Medals: 1
Featured Contributor (1)


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests