Closed Master and slave

[Havoc]

Spring 45, 514 There’s definitely something… up, as they sometimes say. All day, I’ve felt it. I’ve seen it – in those almost imperceptible signs that humans give off, unknowing, apparently. For they don’t seem aware that they are sending out signals – fear, nervousness, frustration. They’re easy for me to sense though. The soldier I’ve been training with for the past several weeks did not come today. That’s not all so unusual. They rotate them, never letting any one human interact with me for very long. My father told me long ago why this is – why my old master would not let me go into those parts of the house where humans were to be found. It’s all about the bonding – that which we Kelvics crave almost above all else. They wanted to save me, he said. To save me from what? I had asked, in my ignorance. Not from, he replied curtly – for – they were saving me for something better than being a child’s plaything, or lowly house slave. I had no understanding of what he meant, then. I know much more now. Much, much more. The odd thing about the soldier that did not show up was that he had said specifically yesterday that he would be back. He’s only been coming for about ten days or so. Usually, they only bring in a fresh face, a new arm, and fist, after thirty days or so. Of course, maybe he is sick. Maybe he is dead, or sent away on some mission. For that is what soldiers are for, right? They train, they fight, sometimes they die. Old soldiers aren’t of much use, unless they are very, very smart, like my master. Not my old master. He was only a merchant. The one he sold me to – that one is a soldier, with the most glorious force in the entire world – the Ebonstryfe. Yes, I can see it in the eyes of the girl that brings me my food. She is one that I have bred, recently. She is Kelvic, of course, though she wears a leather collar so I don’t know her other form. She does not speak to me today, as she normally does. She hands me my food and flees. I thought I heard her sob, but maybe she only coughed. She was always sweet. Well, as sweet as anyone can be in this place. It’s not a pleasant place, for us slaves. What’s this? My door opens, and in they come – four of them. Two are very important slaves, high up in the pack order of the household. I rarely have anything to do with them. I’m not important. Although sometimes they have said I was quite valuable. Still, I can’t really judge. The only ones I usually see are the soldiers – my trainers. And the females, who I lie with. The third one of the newly arrived group in my closet sized room is one I am much more familiar with – unfortunately for me. He is one of the slaves who gets to keep the rest of us in line – when our master isn’t doing so himself. The master is a very important man, though. So he leaves the disciplining to this one. Oh – we’ve had some run ins, he and I. How many times did I think he had finally killed me. But, no – he has the skill of the master himself, when it comes to inflicting pain and yet never allowing the hand of death to claim the master’s property. I hate him. I hate him with more passion then I have ever felt about anything. He glares at me and I give him a haughty look, one befitting my temperament, and one I might not have made so bold with, if I had known who would step through my door next. For it is the master himself. He orders them to strip me bare, and then proceeds to make a close inspection, looking for unattractive scarring. He will find none. I told you, his minion is skilled at what he does. He is speaking now, and I listen, respectfully, for I learned that lesson long, long ago. He smiles with pleasure as he tells me I am to leave his house – to go to another, belonging to his kinsman, a rich reward for some service that other one has rendered. He rubs his hands together and then smooths down his full mustache. Clearly he is quite pleased with himself. If I was that kinsman, I’d be watching my back, for I know, my master does not give out ‘presents’ without some strings attached. I think to put my clothes back on but instead I am taken out into the courtyard, and told to shift. I’m joyous to do so, as I never get to spend enough time in my other form. In the blink of an eye, instead of a naked young man there stands a magnificent bay stallion. Immediately, a leather halter is strapped about my head, despite my shaking it in vexation. I rear up a bit, and the master orders that the chain forming the end of the lead shank be run over my nose. It’s arranged as he commands, and the next time I rear and prance, there comes a hard yank on my sensitive muzzle. I’m not too bothered, but I settle down for I’m anxious to be taken out – perhaps we will travel over the lake and to the shore and I’ll be allowed to run, though that has only happened a very few times in my life. Usually, when we go to the shore, one soldier or another puts me through more training, as a mount, not as a man. It’s irksome to have to carry a human on my back. But it’s better than staying in my cramped little room. We start on our way through the city, and I jig and startle at this sound or that smell, mostly because I enjoy the way the men try to keep me under control. My master walks in front, never casting a look back. The slaves know what lies in wait for them if they don’t make him look good. So they are near frantic with trying to keep me moving forward, and behaving. I take the most exquisite joy in landing a well aimed hoof to the thigh of my arch nemesis, who has to contain both his howl and his rage. It wouldn’t do to thrash me right there in front of the public. My master marches onwards, and eventually we come to another grand house, almost as grand as the one I have lived in for the past two years. My master speaks to the guards at the gate, and they promptly let us in. There is a small courtyard which one crosses to get to the front doors, So of course, I wait there, with the three men, while my master goes to summons….. well, I don’t know who this kinsman is really. I have not heard a name. With eager anticipation, ears pricked forward, I look to the doors, snorting a bit, and dancing about with nervousness.

[Sevris]

One of the many lovely servants played her tongue softly around her masters lips. Her master stood erect waiting for his men to bring him his prize. The Paladin had been told to expect a gift for his efforts in protecting the city from its enemies. It was customary for a Paladin to be well versed in many arts of life. From being wicked with a blade, to riding a stallion through a tornado. He had only become comfortable with the ways of the sword. But it was never to late to get back up on the ride. Which was why the granted him his own Bloodbane horse. One of the best horses in this region and in Ravok, and one was given to him. However this was supposed to be a different type of reward as well, as he understood the horse was also Kelvic. Kelvic were less then pets to most of the people. Sevris couldn't see in his great people why. The Paladin saw them for what they really could become. Weapons. A beast that could assume the shape of a beast of every day nature. They would be the perfect spies. In an occupation such as his, information was power. They came down the path that led past his the guard post and another of his servants showed. "Sir Lazarin. We have your gift. Please follow me and I'll take you to it." "Very well. Move along," Sevris said in an offhand voice, more concentrated on the girl around his arms. The man faked a smile and turned around to bring him to his new prize.