Closed [Guest ST][Shiress] Without a Quicker Blood

[Hadyn Skellig]

Laying still left her with a crick in her neck and an ache in her joints but thankfully (or perhaps not so thankfully) the journey seemed to be paused. Shuffling and arranging occurred beyond their confines but the chimes stretched on seemingly forever until Hadyn half wondered if they were to be left to rot. Just as the blacksmith resigned herself to chewing through the wood like some manner of rodent desperate for escape the approach of voices along with their persons were heard. After much fussing, the lid of their prison was opened, the rush of air a gods-sent after the stale atmosphere of the box. Surprisingly, their blinds were ripped away but Hadyn maintained closed eyelids. No need to show her hand yet. Motionless the brunette lay as a horridly slimy diseased voice spoke. It was not one she recognized but the tone and implication suggested that at least one of them was familiar to this braying man. It wasn't until the final statement was issued that Hadyn began to vaguely understand their situation. Was this the man Shiress had been trying to escape by coming to Syliras? was he the slave master that terrified her so? Hadyn couldn't recall if a name had been given to this foul creature but she allotted him the title of Worm, for that is how he sounded to her closed eyes. Maintaining relaxed muscles as though she might still be unconscious, the blacksmith trained her other senses. She didn't know when it would appropriate to reveal her state but at present it seemed far more logical to let the Worm and his cronies believe this little bitch was still out cold.

[Shiress]

The cart slowed and came to a stop. The springs above Shiress' head screeched and the cart bed lifted slightly after being freed from the weight of one of it's occupants. Like a long, slow breath before a scream silence ensued and like teetering from a precipice, Shiress was forced to wait, hearing only her heart pounding inside her chest as if it too struggled to escape.

The warm stagnant air around her was swiftly pulled away and replaced with a wave of cool night air as the door above her was opened. The blindfold was then torn away and slowly Shiress opened her eyes and strained her sight into focus.

Her eyes hesitantly moved from one face to the next until finally settling on his face, the face of her master. Though his features were distorted with obvious signs of sickness, he still owned the familiar expression of pure evil that Shiress knew well and the sound of his voice was like daggers to her ears and her body tensed and shook as he addressed her.

The foul beast spat in her face and she recoiled closing her eyes. It was at this moment that she allowed her body to lean and drift over the precipice in her mind and plummet into an abyss of dread. She had come to it at last.

Everything she had been through, the escape, the attack in the depths of the forest and the fight for her life that ensued and what little she had rebuilt of herself was now meaningless. She felt frail and powerless under the glare of her master. The Shiress that was left behind in Sunberth as well as the state of being she was in, following season upon season of inhuman abuse given by the closed hand of Elijah Jordan, threatened to overcome the girl again, the slave girl threatened to take the woman that lay bound before her former master.

[Philomena]

Jordan cleared his throat hard, and scratched at an angry red boil beneath his chin. It burst, sending a slow trickle of thick, milky-yellow pus and blood down his neck toward his filthy shirt collar.

"Get her up, then you louts. The other girl... petch I don't know. You know? No..."

He leaned in close now, close enough that the smell of him, of unwashed skin and old sweat, and infection and blood, washed thickly over the two battered women. He peered hard at Shiress, gauging the fear in her eyes.

"No... no, I think our girl cares for this little bitch she's togged along, doesn't she? Hmm. Yes, I think she might come of use."

He stood again, and looked to the largest of the men.

"Pick her up. Wake her up."

The driver pickup Hadyn up scooping grabbing her painfully by the shoulder. The older woman looked down at her coldly, and kicked hard at the blacksmith with a sharp-toed boot. Snorted. Her voice was harsh and rough, the voice of one inured by a life of being spit on herself, and filled with a sort of savage hatred of the rest of the human voice as a result, that strange mixture of contempt and defensiveness.

"What about your slave, then? We waking her up, too?"

Without waiting for an answer she stomped the heavy heel of her boot hard into Shiress's hip. The bone shivers, beneath, but does not crack, but ht muscle is shrills with pain.

"Hetty!" Jordan says in mock anger, "You hit my little Shiress? Why! She's not a slave, not anymore! She's a free woman!"

He reached down now, and pulled hard on the gag, but it doesn't move. Irritably, he bends closer, and unties it, with fingers that shake with palsy behind Shiress's neck.Then, with no gentleness, he yanks the gag out.

"A soon to be dead free woman. Or a slave again. Go ahead, then, girl. Beg me to have you back. Beg me."

[Hadyn Skellig]

It was over. There'd be no pretending any longer. Hadyn felt burning ire rise in her chest as the Worm spoke again, the scent of his nearness almost causing the woman to gag behind the cloth in her mouth. But she lay limp as the bastard spat his orders, her heart beating heavily.

Rough hands seized her shoulders hauling her up and giving her a good shake. It took all her meddle to remain limp against the fingers digging into her flesh. That is until a heavy object landed solidly in her gut doubling her over against the man's grip. Her eyes shot open reflexively, unable to linger in the pretense of unconsciousness. A surprised and pained groan issued from her throat but was effectively muted by the gag as Hadyn curled into herself. The hit was merciless, the blacksmith's insides roiling against the sudden assault as she screwed her eyes shut momentarily, tears stinging but abating quickly.

But the sound of another strike delivered, this time to Shiress, gave Hadyn cause to open her eyes once more. Still held firmly by the Worm's henchmen, the brunette could only watch as her friend's gag was removed and she was commanded to beg. It made her stomach turn far worse than the earlier strike. Unable to hide a darkened expression, brows furrowed, Hadyn lurched suddenly against her captor, to do what - she didn't know. Still bound and silenced she could only glare daggers at the Worm, breathing heavily through her nose as she ignored the ache building in her torso. Were she able Hadyn might've reproached herself for such impetuous behavior. But all she could feel was the violent surge of rage against this insect of a man and hate toward his treatment of Shiress.

[Shiress]

Shiress' looked on helplessly as her friend's limp body was roughly lifted, her eyes creased in concern for Hadyn as the boot of the female accomplice met hard against her form. The pain in Hadyn's face was heart breaking for Shiress. She never meant for this to happen, especially not to the ones she loved.

Before Shiress had a chance to react, the female's attention had shifted and a blow was brought down against her hip that caused the girls back to arch in pain. Her teeth bit hard on the cloth between them as a hard, muffled moan came from deep in her throat followed by several softer sobs as tears seeped from beneath closed lids.

Her breathing was labored as she struggled hard to take air in through the blocked passages of her nose. She was near a breathless panic when the vile man's putrid hands pulled at the gag then jerked it away taking a fist full of the girls auburn hair with it.

Shiress drew in an erratic and needed breath as the monster before her beckoned her cruelly to speak. Her green eyes turned up to meet the sinister eyes that glared at her and she opened her mouth to speak, but what he demanded her to say was words she could not bring herself to form and she remained silent.

Dare she play contempt, comply or say nothing at all, she did know well that a man would not have traveled this far for her to just kill her because she wouldn't yield to his heinous demands, but she also knew contempt would bring her punishment. So, she did neither, instead, her eyes fell away to Hadyn and for a chime, she glared sorrowfully at her and with a low, broken voice she spoke from the one burden that laid heavy on her heart.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen."

[Orion Michaels]

Placeholder for season change!

[Philomena]

Elijah frowned at the girl's response, and sniffed, scratching at the broken boil irritably, "Enough of that shyke. You'll have time enough for tearful moping later, wench."

His fingers came up covered in the foul-smelling pus, and he sneered uglily, looking to the older woman. "Sit her up, open her mouth, Hetty."

Hetty grabbed Shiress by the hair, and yanked her up roughly to an uncomfortable half crouch. She grabbed her jaw, and squeezed at the joints with iron-strong hands, forcing the girl's mouth open, making it impossible to close without more strength than the half-beaten, thirsty girl would have anymore. Elijah leaned down and smeared the rank yellowy discharge of his fingers roughly across the woman's lips and tongue, the taste even worse than the smell - the taste of rot, of infection. Of dying.

"There we are, little bitch. That'll wash the whining out of your damned mouth. Now, tell me, beg me. Beg me to have you back in my house, you pig-shyting traitor."

He looked up at Haddy, and nodded to the man who still held her. He nodded, and dug tight into the ball joint of her shoulder with a hard, rough finger. The pain would race like a river of fire through the woman's bones.

---------------------------------------

Just Before the 23rd Bell, the White Swan
Lona was panting by the time she reached the White Swan. The Doctor, he would be here, and if her next move was to work, she would need him. It was growing late, but he HAD to be here. He had not been at Shiress's bar, and the Dormitories... that would look too suspicious. She strode quickly toward the door, her eyes scanning... no. No, was that him? Could she be that lucky? A figure ambled along, forward from where she stood in the narrow way. She peered at him and then cried out.

"Orion Michaels!"

And then her voice caught. Before now, she had been moving, had had the rush and tumble of managing a horse, of slipping through the last unsuspcious bells of the gate, of rushing, of scanning a crowd. Now, for the first time, she stood still, and waited. The man probably had no idea who she was, she mused, and from his reputation, might think she wanted something of a more... personal nature. The torn buttons of her blouse wouldn't help to allay that suspcion. But Dira-petched-pox-on-a-whore, she was tired, not even in the body, just... heart tired. Mind tired. She was getting too soft for this work, too old. Too smart maybe. Just this one job, and there would be enough. Enough for mum to be free, to find somewhere quiet, and run something... well, maybe not above board, not in Sunberth. But something that did something useful, maybe.

She steeled herself. Arranged her shirt, with an internal sigh, subtly, to reveal the swell of a breast. Just in case. Men with his sort of reputation, she'd found, knew a ploy when they saw one. It likely came with the territory, like tarts recognizing the John's who wanted to make 'em bleed. But, it didn't hurt to give a good impression. Petch, she hated this...

[Hadyn Skellig]

Hadyn's was fighting the impulse to relinquish control to her body's demands. Her brain ignored pleas to simply yield and slip back into the cold embrace of unconscious. Her head ached without reprieve, her abdomen sore, every other breath strained as bruised ribs expanded and contracting to accommodate the narrow airflow through her nostrils. It was a trial to keep her eyes open but she didn't dare allow herself the luxury of passing out, if only to be sentient for Shiress.

The hands holding her were unyielding in their grip but as the Worm forced his disgusting fluids into the girl's mouth Hadyn wrenched against her captive's hands. But still he remained. She bit against the cloth preventing a deluge of threats and swears, brown eyes narrowed with loathing, the emotional response taking over the physical for the briefest moment. It pained her more than the abuse her body suffered to watch this creature use her friend and treat her thus. Hadyn's blood surged in her veins, revived by this awful display though there was little she could do.

Then the attention returned to her. At a nod from the Worm her oppressor dug a thick finger into the space between her shoulder, the pressure causing her to twist away from him. Fire raced down Hadyn's arm bursting sparks across her muscles until her very fingertips burned. A muffled cry crawled from her throat, lost in the fabric of the gag as her body caved around the caustic strike. With her wrists bound she could not alleviate the agony of the affliction, her left arm almost entirely useless for the moment. The original point throbbed as her nerves reacted with spasmodic jolts enervating her arm and shoulder. Even her back ached from the hit, the spinal cord responding accordingly to the paroxysm of the brachial praxis.

It was becoming difficult for Hadyn to maintain consciousness as a tear elicited by pain dripped down the side of one cheek, her breathing labored. Her head lolled to the side as she struggled to keep her airway as clear as possible. Muscles were slackened by the initial shock and severity but she mustered enough resolve to raise her head and stare at the Worm, unwilling to entertain any notion that he might have of her submission by this assailment. Brown eyes were effectively clouded with fatigue and pain but managed to glare pointedly at him, challenging him to remove her gag or cut her bonds.

[Shiress]

A swirling mixture of fear and anger fused with confusion fueled her pounding heart, it caused her chest to ache from it's relentless assault. She wondered if her heart would grow weary and stop.

The frightened girl that cowered under the hand of Elijah Jordan for so many seasons was there, but Shiress battled desperately to keep her subdued. Despite staring into the foul face of the man that had broke her, that had taken her young life from her, she still willed the free woman to surface and fight. But fight for what? Given the choice, she'd fight for life to no end and no chains, but she knew the beast Jordan was and she knew fighting meant she would have to accept the possibility of death, but death also meant no chains. Her heart ached.

She gasped painfully as menacing fingers wrapped around her hair and forced her up. The touch of the monsters filthy fingers against her lips was repulsive, but what was smeared on them made her stomach turn. The disgusting filth on her mouth caused her head to pull violently against the fingers that entangled her hair. A sick feeling grew strong in the pit of her stomach making her knees draw up. The muscles in her abdomen contracted to force the sick from her gut, her body lurched and her head twisted to the side and she vomited.

Her mouth remained slightly open with remnants of sick dripping from her quivering lip as Jordan again demanded her to beg. But it was the sound of Hadyn's muffled cries of pain that the decision was made, it was no longer just her life she feared for.

The hole in her chest began to close as bitterness and disgust overtook fear. Slowly, her face upturned to her master. Her green eyes creased with anger as they locked against the evil before her and through gritted teeth the woman emerged. "I will beg for death before I beg for you." Shiress growled her words as she glared at Jordan, her mouth, tongue and lips working together to draw in what was left of the vomit then she spat in her masters face. "You will never own me again."

[Orion Michaels]

This place was expensive. Very expensive. Especially on his squire salary. The non-existent one. It was almost enough to remind him of why he spent time out at the Stallion. Almost. The thing about the White Swan was the quality. It was a hundred, no, a thousand times better than what any other place in Syliras had to offer. The taste was worth the cost. At least, that's what he had to tell himself after he spent ten gold on a wine.

Sighing, he looked down into his glass, swirling it slowly to release the flavor. It was sweet with just enough of a twist to remind you weren't drinking juice. Gods, if he wasn't careful he'd blow all of his hard earned income on this drink of perfection. It's too bad he was spending the the evening alone. It seemed that there was rarely anyone worthwhile out at this bell. When he heard his name called out suddenly, he looked up to see that it was possible his fortune's had changed.

She was nothing impressive, and a couple of glasses of wine had him a little arrogance. But he was also somewhat..desperate. The knightly training had already left him will a void rarely filled. Now he was to be leaving for a patrol with Dinah for the rest of this season and the start of the next. Just Dinah and him. She wasn't looking to do anything but train him. It was going to be a very long time. So he couldn't be picky now, right?

"Have a seat, have a drink," he commanded, pouring another glass for the woman. "Tell me about your problems? Did I offend one of your friends? Did some reputation lead you to me? Or...don't tell me it's these eyes. You're making me blush." He turned away in mock embarrassment before picking his glass up and tipped it to the stranger in greeting. "You've got the right of it. I'm Orion. And you are?"