Closed [Lorak Plantation] Let Freedom Ring!

[Chayton]

Chayton 68, Spring, 514 AV It was just a few days after his arrival and he was already up to no good, sneaking through the lush crops of the Lorak Plantation. However, it wasn't his fault. It was the stupid child's face that did it. He looked so sad and hungry, but most of all, it reminded him of himself when he was much younger. It was as if the gods put him on display for a reason. And for that, he was going to free him. Of course many questions strung in his head. Where would the human kid even go? Would Chayton have to care for him? He didn't even have a steady job and was already on the run. However, the only thing he really planned was where they would hide away until the whole thing boiled over. He had already set his Zavian horse waiting just outside the borders of the Lorak plantation. Once he and the child reach it, they'll ride off to the Ki River and hide out there. If the Lorak family was relentless, they'd continue off to the Sea of Grass if they had to! They wouldn't want to follow them there... It's quite dangerous. There was the boy, gathering cotton and picking out the seeds as he placed it in the large basket beside him. There weren't a lot of slaves around, needing to be spread out over the vast lands that the Lorak owned. It wasn't the biggest, but at least it meant that there were less guards to deal with. Chayton fingered the wooden mask over his face. His charcoal hair tucked cleanly to appear as if his hair was completely shaven in the back. He lurked closer, the boy not taking any notice to the man hidden in the crop. The boy was tanned from the long hours in the sun and wore nothing but a large raggedy shirt with mud and dirt plastered handprints everywhere and pants that barely passed his ankles. He looked to be around eight or nine years old. The only thing that kept him alive was the fact that he was miraculously healthy complexion. Yet, he was a bit scrawny and his owners probably didn't appreciate that. The tall chaktawe crawled through the crops, calling to him like a faint name in the wind. "Ross... Ross..." Chayton wasn't sure how the young slave boy would react. Hopefully, he still wanted to escape. 'I promise to free you, Chayton.' The chaktawe furrowed his brow. 'Ross.' He corrected his thoughts while they waited under the plant life. He couldn't help but wonder if he was really doing this to avenge his own life, or for the only reason but to save another's. His father prodded his mind. 'Only help yourself.' No, it was his choice. It was his life. Chayton slowly rose his head from the fresh undergrowth, almost forgetting that his menacing mask bore into the poor boy's soul with his black eyes. The chaktawe slightly tilted his mask, only to reveal a portion of his face but it wasn't enough to establish his identity. But only the boy would know who he was. He was the only man who'd even want to socialize with him. Still, the slave boy might be a bit startled at his sudden appearance. "Are you ready to run away?" Please dear gods... Don't let this be for naught. His black eyes scanned the premise. Certainly there was someone there... Someone must be watching... They had to be cautious. OOCLet me know if something needs to be changed. Thank you! .

[Vice]

Let Freedom Ring!

A vibrant laugh escaped the little boy's lips as he realized that his guardian had approached him. Rather than be startled, he looked through to the pitch black eyes, what tanned features he could see bringing a smile to the boy's face as he stepped forward to hug the being. He was a mystery, but a saviour to him, at times bringing food, at others company that the boy so desperately needed, finding no such thing with the Loraks or the slaves that shared his condition. Mother killed at birth, father vanished in the night, the boy was alone.

His limited grasp on Common and his inability to neither write nor read isolated him from other slaves, his masters caring little for such a useless child. Whipped and beaten at times, sores could be seen at the hems of his ragged shirt, rips and tears at the garment hinting at the vicious red tenacity of his wounds. "Missa! The boy almost shouted out the words, covering his mouth just in time before looking around, a frantic gaze cast before he looked down to realize that the contents of his basket, the cotton produce and seeds he was tasked to pick up, were dirtied and left to waste on the floor.

Though, the boy ignored it when he realized what the masked guardian was saying to him. It took several moments to glean what he said, a mixture of unfamiliar accent and an unfamiliar question shaking his concept of what was going on before he nodded quickly, moving the entirety of his head so that his chin nearly touched his collarbones before he whispered, "Missa wants to run now? Scary people here, missa. Big, bad men with pokey stick!" Fear clenched at the boy's words, eyes closed as he shook his head furiously. "Lots of big red water come from bad slave who get poked by pokey stick. But I want go! Which way?"

The boy clung to the Chaktawe, fingers clenched with surprising strength around the older man's wrist.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

In the distance, rustling could be heard, the sounds of movement and ramblings in Vani audible to passerby. The tone of the voices, three in number, were similar. Harsh, bitter and short with irritation. The voices growing louder indicated that the trio was approaching.

Dun dun... Dun!Sorry that took so long! Enjoy the post ^.^ There's no immediate danger just yet, but the voices, whoever they are, might've heard the slave boy...

[Chayton]

Chayton 68, Spring, 514 AV Although Chayton felt a small glint of delight deep in the pit of his soul, he wished he didn't react so dangerously. He might have alerted someone. However, he was glad that the boy didn't fear him and was more excited to see him more than anything. Unfortunately, the boy dropped the goods from his hands, scattering them in the dirt. In response, Chayton helped pick up the bits and pieces off the ground, suddenly the boy froze. He raised his eyebrow, glancing up at him in question. When he met the young boy's stare, hollow fear started to shave away at his heart. He looked terrified! "Missa wants to run now? Scary people here, missa. Big, bad men with pokey stick!" At least, Ross was whispering but the danger that prickled up his back felt more imminent. "Lots of big red water come from bad slave who get poked by pokey stick. But I want go! Which way?" "Shh..." Chayton replied with hushed tones, wishing he didn't hear what Ross just had to say. It left scarring memories, literally scarring enough to cause the chaktawe to rub his shoulder near the old wounds that whipped across his back. That day... What a dreadful day. However, when he agreed to run away, Chayton couldn't help but brighten. At least the boy still wanted to go, regardless of the consequences. He patted Ross's hand that classed around his wrist, a small temporary smile spread across his lips but was hidden beneath his mask. "You are very brave. I'm proud of you. We must go-" Just before he could point in the direction of his waiting horse at the end of the plantation, a small sound caused him to go silent. He instinctively crouched low, his eyes scanning the area. There were people coming... And they did not sound too happy... He motioned for the boy to hide low in the crops, grabbing the bits of cotton that Ross had dropped earlier and flung them in the other direction to deter them in case they were indeed trying to track the boy. Chayton whirled his head around looking for more indications that the boy might have left to cause trouble. In haste, he rubbed the dirt where he stood so that his footprints would disappear and then huddled under the crops with Ross. He kept his hand clasped around the boy's skinny arm, putting a finger to his lips to keep him quiet. If they are not too close, they could start crawling away just in case they come back... He already got onto his hands and knees, ready to crawl, or even jump up and dash in the other direction. The only problem was figuring out how to do that without leaving Ross behind... He could scoop him up and carry him? Or drag him... Either way, it was best if they hid for now until it's safe enough to crawl away without being seen. 'Please don't make a sound, Ross. You'll kill us both if you do.' Chayton felt his heart start to pick up speed, breathing softly so that it would blend in with the breeze. Was there any farming equipment around? Perhaps he could use it to defend himself in case something were to happen... OOCIt's all right, and so far I'm pumped! Can't wait to really get into it. Let me know if something needs to be changed. Thank you! .

[Vice]

In the distance, footsteps grew louder, stomping sounds made as a man wearing boots made of metal approached the cotton produce, casting a scrutinizing gaze about the crop. Calculation set itself in his gaze as he looked both ways across the fields of cotton, a smile playing at his lips before he turned to the Lorak showing him the way,

"Is this this season's crop, madame? Looks a bit lean t'me, you know. Last season's looked bigger. Can't make the clothes without the crop, you know... Best be givin' me more of the share, right?"

Lorana Lorak shook her head, dainty fingers moving to the folds of her dress in a sort of frustrated anxiety before she replied, "You are mistaken. The crop is just as well this season as the last. You will take your share, as negotiated, or we will find another willing to buy. Do not confuse your patronage with a dependence on our end. We can, and will, cut you off if necessary."

A cold stare marked the woman's changing eyes, which moved from vermillion to a deep burgundy, though at the end of her response, they were a calm, eerie magenta. Lorana laughed at the man, turning away before the other can respond. A small team of guards, six total in number, split into three groups, two escorting the guest away from the fields, two following the Lorak. The last two moved to join Lorana, but she raised her hand,

"Tor, Sven. Look around. I thought I heard something. Make sure the slaves aren't messing around." The words were spoken in Common, a strange phenomenon in it of itself, though the Lorak was intelligent enough to know that the slaves in the vicinity would hear her. If they were intelligent, they'd get back to work.

The two guards assigned to patrol the area cast their gazed, narrowing them in an attempt to whittle through the foliage that was the cotton crop, their bodies carefully weaving through so as to not damage the crop. In the distance, the smaller of the two, Sven, noted the presence of spilled cotton seeds and muddied crop, the guard shouting out to his comrade, the two initiating discussion shortly after,

"Isn't this the kid's area? What was his number? B71? B78?"

Torc, the larger and presumably more intelligent of the two replied,

"No, you fool. He's A43. This area's where the 40's are assigned... Looks like the slave bailed. Let's split up. You take the other path, I'll look around here."

Sven nodded and turned on his heel, making his way across, arching his eyebrows as he noted the distinct lack of footprints, "Oi, Torc! TORC. The little bastard's coverin' up his footprints. Think he's trying to escape? Come back me up!"

In a chime's time, Torc made his way over to Sven, the two scouring the vicnity for the little slave.

Oi, lil slave! 43! Come back 'ere! We won' hurt ye if you listen."

The slave boy visible shook as him and Chayton made their slow ascent towards escape, stopping in his tracks as he looked between the masked Chaktawe and the plantation,

"Missa... Me scared... Hurry or go back? Get caught no good..."

Poor Ross D:What will you do? Leave him behind? Escape? It's up to you!

[Chayton]

Chayton 68, Spring, 514 AV "Tor, Sven. Look around. I thought I heard something. Make sure the slaves aren't messing around." The chill of the woman's words rolled off her lips and sent shivers throughout his body. Don't worry, her words cannot hurt them, nor will it deter him or the child to turn themselves in. In fact, as soon as the cold sweat of fear rushed and passed over, strength of character took its place. It wasn't too late to turn back and just leave the boy here, yet it was as if those words chased the last bits of anxiety out of him. All that resided was the temptation to run with the crazed excitement of being chased. Was he delusional? Did all the strain and agony from the past that clashed with the present really get to him at that moment? He would never explain, not now and not ever of why he did what he was about to do. He could hear the two men rustle around, silently searching the crops but they weren't too close to where they were. That was... Until one of them noticed the cotton Chayton threw as the last attempt to lead them away. He could hear them murmuring to one another, calling Ross a number as if his life didn't even matter, all they wanted was for him to work until his life faded away. Suddenly, he heard the other call out to the bulky Torc, "Oi, Torc! TORC. The little bastard's coverin' up his footprints. Think he's trying to escape? Come back me up!" So the other one was Sven that the woman had called them. Drat! What was he supposed to do? Leave them and reveal their hiding place? Either way, they would have noticed. Luckily, because of the noise they made as they rustled through the crops, it was able to quiet the sound of them crawling away slowly as possible. However Ross suddenly stopped, looking back nervously. "Missa... Me scared... Hurry or go back? Get caught no good..." He whispered as quiet as the crackling leaves. Chayton glanced at his surroundings. There was no way he was going to leave the boy behind now. Not after hearing the men talk about the boy that way. They were lying in order to coax Ross out of hiding. By the sound of it, was going to get a whooping as bad as Chayton did when he tried to escape his very first time. He kept silent, studying the surroundings and putting a hand to his side. He had his eating knife with him since he ate a snack earlier but it was a small one and wouldn't do much to defend him and the boy. Especially since there were two guards on their tails. Chayton furrowed his brows as an idea sparked in his head. He started to dig and feel around in the dirt before him. Whether or not Ross understood his intentions, he was about to find out. Suddenly, the chaktawe wrenched a large, sharp stone out of the ground that was big enough to fit in the palm of his massive, gloved hands. Perfect... He turned his head to face Ross, his mask giving him a solemn face but underneath was a giddy grin. "Do not be scared, child. I'll keep us safe. Now once I alert them, run in this direction..." He pointed towards the direction his horse was in. "I'll try to catch up. Once you see a horse that's where you stop running. Use the saddle to help lift yourself on it and wait for me." He whispered low and uneasily. Chayton motioned him to crawl past him. "Get ready to run... Do not hesitate or we'll both get caught. I believe in you, Ross." Suddenly, the giant, masked Chaktawe leaped out of the crops swinging back his arm with the stone in his hand and flung it towards the larger, beefier man to strike him down. It was a better choice so that if he really did have to face both the guards, the stronger one would be injured and he'd have a better chance. The sharp stone collided into the man right against his left temple as it flew past. Then after that, he ran for his life. OOCLet me know if something needs to be changed. Thank you! .

[Vice]

Crash. A rock flew into Torc's temple. A loud yell flew from the man's lips, his right hand flying to his skull in frustration as a pounding headache built, but the powerfully-built man was by no means debilitated. Eyes flew open, the left reddened with popped blood vessels as he screamed out,

" PETCH. Okay, Sven! Get the bloody petcher who just stoned me. Bastard's gonna pay!"

The large man reached to his waist as he ran towards the child, where a steel mace with dried flecks of blood caked about the body sat, undoing the clasps that kept it taut against his body. Harsh laughter escaped from his lips as he screamed out,

"Now you petched up, ye swamp-skinned shyke! Where's the kid??"

The boy was much slower than the Chaktawe anticipated, fear keeping him from being able to pull off a sprint. Isolated and abandoned, Ross' gaze frantically searched for the 'horse' that his friend referred to, but he had no idea what it was. Unable to find anything, the boy stood for five ticks before falling to the floor, tears streaking from his face as choked sobs escaped his lips. The large human raced over to the slave, a laugh escaping him again as a sneer materialized across his expression, a massive hand reaching out to capture the child as the Chaktawe continued to run.

"You better run, shyke skin. Yer little friend's gonna pay for teh damage to my face. It's not like Lorana'll miss a little shyke withou' a family to raise it."

The guard was not thinking clearly, and even Sven looked at him incredulously as he pushed the child to the ground, making his way over him. A fierce stomp crushed the slave's leg as Torc laughed, agonized screams mixing with harsh, delighted laughter. But the screams fell short as the mace took flight. It swung in an arc, colliding into the child slave's head.

Blood rushed from the wound as laughter increased in volume, repeated collisions of the mace into the child's temple causing blood to fly onto the guard's body, staining his teeth with one final strike before he raised the mace.

"Don't. Ever... Try. To. Escape."

He spoke for the other slaves, who had, in the laughter and screams, gathered in terror, the guard flashing a bloodied smile as Sven shook with terror, producing a longbow from his back, pulling an arrow from his quiver, stringing it and aiming a shot at his ally in utter horror at the carnage. In the chaos of brutal murder, the Chaktawe was utterly forgotten, his horse stirring with the sounds and running off into the fields towards its owner.

Dapetch o.oGuard went crazy. I suggest running. You musta addled his brains.

[Chayton]

Chayton 68, Spring, 514 AV "PETCH. Okay, Sven! Get the bloody petcher who just stoned me. Bastard's gonna pay!" He could hear him shouting, but he paid no mind, now keeping his attention on the other man the large one called out to. "Now you petched up, ye swamp-skinned shyke! Where's the kid??" Wait, where was Ross? His eyes scanned frantically across the plantation. He wasn't running anymore, laying on the ground crying as if he tripped. No... No, he wasn't... Before Chayton could race to his side, the guard reached him first. "You better run, shyke skin. Yer little friend's gonna pay for teh damage to my face. It's not like Lorana'll miss a little shake withou' a family to raise it." He wasn't going to... Just as the guard crushed the small boy to the ground with his monstrous size, he figured what he was about to do. His body began to shake with anger and fear. He wanted to rip the guard away and save Ross from the nasty ending. He wanted to kill the guard for even anticipating such an event. Torc was going to murder him. All because Chayton couldn't have just ran with him in his arms to begin with. He should have known... He should have saved him... He could hear the child's screams haunt his mind as a sickening thud of the mace cracked the little boy's scull. He could hear the disgusting laughter raise higher and higher with each thunderous crack. Suddenly there was silence, and one last thud. "Don't. Ever... Try. To. Escape." Chayton felt his heart break to pieces, along with chilling terror that crawled up his back and under his skin. He peered back through the tiny holes of his mask. The other guard looked horrified, holding up a bow and arrow, not at Chayton... But at his friend. They didn't seem to notice him now, only preoccupied with each other. Suddenly, he heard soft galloping noises headed towards him. He jerked his head around to see his horse gliding down the valley towards him. Perfect, he had to get out of here. There was nothing left to do. Chayton started sprinting, his arms chugging the air with force to run faster. Once the horse was by his side, he grabbed the horse by it's mane and leaped onto it's back. He had to hurry and get as far as possible. Since the guards were on foot, he had a chance to disappear before they could attempt to catch him. As he galloped away on his respectful steed, He kept an eye on the scene behind him. His heart panging with regret and deep despair for the boy he had tried to save. Ross... He deserved to live a life of freedom... The poor boy didn't even get a chance. Not even a proper burial! He should have been freed. He should have made it out alive... For now, he had to head towards the river. He had to make it out. Chayton was far from safety. OOCDamn, I took way too long to respond! Sorry about that! Let me know if something needs to be changed. Thank you! .

[Chayton]

Chayton 68, Spring, 514 AV The guards looked smaller and smaller as he rode on horseback towards the end of the plantation. He kicked the side of the horse to ride faster, near the fencing. He never had the time to teach his steed how to jump fences so the horse knickered at him when they neared it. He led the horse by steering it by the mane towards the hole that he kicked down for future use. Once through the hole, they galloped off towards the swamp in the direction of Ki River. He had made a small settlement there in the tall grass. It took a while to reach the river, half way there he could see the Lynint Plantation in the distance to the right of him. The sun was soon to set in a few hours by the time the river was in view. The grass seemed much taller the closer he got, jumping off the horse's back and taking the lead. He tested the ground before him twice each time he took a step. There were certain places near the river that was much softer and sinkable than others and one couldn't be too careful just to check. He pushed the grass back, taking short, quick breaths to keep quiet. Just because he made it to his safe camp, didn't mean he was actually safe-safe. He could see his tent and items packed neatly in a small clearing within the tall grass. He scanned the area, listening closely for anyone that may be nearby. All he could hear was insects and the soft rippling of the river. He led his horse into the clearing and petted it, plopping himself down in the dirt and pulling off his mask. He flung it next to him, rubbing his sweaty face. After all the stress and adrenaline, his body was exhausted and tormented. The memory of Ross played in his mind over and over again. His screams rung in his head, along with the awful laughter as he was hit over and over again. And how the screams abruptly ended after the large mace took it's killing blow. The scene kept playing, and the tears began to fall. Chayton let his long hair fall over his face as he slumped against his knees. He clutched the sides of his face, digging his cracked, unkept nails into his flesh. Ross, Ross, Ross. Why didn't you run, mother fucker. Why didn't you run! He sat there, wallowing in his own filth and sweat, sobbing quietly to himself as his horse grazed in the long grass. OOCSorry this post is so short. Let me know if something needs to be changed. Thank you! .

[Vice]

Cass and her two Roonitza companions looked upon this particular catch with a strange expression. His skin with darker, much darker than most, his hair long and stringy. But it was his eyes that bothered him. Were his eyes so darkened that he couldn't see them right in front of him? Low to the ground and pressed ti the pastures of the outerlying lands of the Kenashian plantations, the Rujaro were further from the swamps out from the swamps than they usually wanted to be, but the premise was the same. Search and Capture. It was the directive given to Cass by Jarrick, and it was her primary reason for existence.

The missions had, in truth, an even bigger appeal to her than the raids she participated in, or the monitoring, spying, intelligence recovery... All of it was useful, but none of it carried with it the expansion of blood that this particular branch of the Rujaro brought with it.

The man they found running away seemed an odd one. Though they could not see the detail of his face, there was neither obvious deformity nor was there the look of a slave about him, yet... He ran. Away from a Dynasty and he seemed to be shaking with rage.

"You think he's a viable target?" Cass asked the other two.

"Might as well be. Running from the Dynasties, right?" The leftmost of the trio replied.

The rightward remained silent, but nodded in response to Cass' request for an answer. The three seemed to be in mutual agreement, and so they went forward. The two took off in their attempts to be stealthy, making it to halfway around the bend that would place them behind the Chaktawe as Cass yelled out,

"YOU! YEAH, YOU! Black-eyes! Creepy eyes! You running off? There a reason for it?"

The woman was adorned in a muddied tank top and grimey leather pants, her face covered in dark paint. At her side bounced a sturdy spiked club. Cass seemed to exude an aura of confidence, her posture straight as she took steps forward to meet the Chaktawe.

[Chayton]

Chayton 68, Spring, 514 AV It was peaceful, the sound of the river beside him as he sat there. He picked up his mask and started to fiddle with it, studying the features of the wooden carvings and nails. He stuck his index finger and pinky in the eyeholes, while his thumb scratched at the lip. His body still throbbed with so much emotion and a headache was beginning to hammer the sides of his skull, a light patter at first but it would worsen overtime. It was sleep. He needed sleep pretty badly. His eyes slowly shut, but he kept his ears open. Much time had passed since he left the plantation, but he didn't pay attention to the time. There could be an ambush at any moment. Even a slight noise from his horse as it rubbed against the grass made him flinch, his expressionless black eyes wide open. Yet, there was nothing. Or he assumed nothing... His horse began to fidget, scraping against the ground and it's ears twitching. Chayton raised a brow at such a thing. He heard nothing? He stood up, scanning the grass as far as he could, but it was too tall to tell. It must have been a small animal or something. In that case, he wanted to find a stick to sharpen, he was starting to get hungry. He had a week's worth of rations but he wanted to preserve them a little bit longer until he could get the hang of hunting. Chayton hadn't even tried yet, only knowing how to make a sharp weapon for it. However, he wouldn't be hesitant to kill. He was ready for it. Unfortunately, there weren't any trees around to drop branches or to just tear them from it, so he got out the only knife he had. It was still sharp, he made sure of it. He ran his finger along the edge of it, not daring to touch the jagged part. Just then, his horse began to shuffle and twitch it's ear again. The animal must be closer. He kept in the middle of his camp, wondering how big the animal must be. It couldn't be very big... He would have heard it... Unless it was like a big stalking cat thing. Then again, why would there be a large cat in the middle of a swamp? Out of nowhere, a voice boomed over him, swamp birds flitting out of the grass in terror. "YOU! YEAH, YOU!" Chayton jumped at the sound, "Black-eyes! Creepy eyes! You running off? There a reason for it?" He whirled around, holding out his knife in defense. Just then, a woman stepped out of the grass, a hard look glazed over her face along with black paint. It reminded him of his father, how he had a long black stripe over the bridge of his nose and around his eyes. However, this one had it all over, barely any spots to be seen bare. She carried a large weapon tied to her and haughtily strutted into his camp clearing. She glanced around at his pitiful set up then back at him. At first, he was in awe at how she even found him. He didn't remember seeing her at the plantation, unless she was hidden in the crops waiting and stalking to his hiding place. He didn't introduce himself, since she hadn't either. He bounced straight to the point. "I ran away from murder." It wasn't specific, and it didn't give too much away. However, it did give her the information that he did indeed run from something. She must have figured he was a slave. He kept a steady, ready stance, in case of any surprise attack. He didn't know who this woman was, so why should he relax? "You are good at finding people, I admire your skill. But I must ask..." He didn't move his head, but his eyes rolled around it's sockets as he kept a look out in the grass for more of them. "What brings you here, and why." His voice was stern and deep, his mask clasped in one hand and his knife in the other. If Chayton had to use it, he would... OOCLet me know if something needs to be changed. Thank you! .