Quest Swimming Softly [Alea]

[Abstract]

Summer 1st, 514 AV

Alea had been bought and ‘cared’ for by the same Black Sun agent, and was part of a small group of three other slaves in the same position. Compared to them, however… this was her first day. The man in charge was… not needlessly mean, though he did have a tiny bit of a cruel streak. He seemed quite into his job, happy to send the slaves off to ‘Their fishy deaths’, though they didn’t die most of the time. Alea wouldn’t have known anything other than what she’d been told, though.

The whole project was a test, an experiment, and at the moment there was only one group of slaves. All were swimmers in some shape or form, though Alea was probably the worst in the group. One was even a Konti, probably the prime race for the job, other than a Charoda of course… but only Rhysol knew how you’d get one of those all the way to Ravok in the first place. They’d probably die over the journey due to lack of water.

Alea’s job, as explained, was to ‘swim around and try and find that stupid rumored monster fish’. In exact words. It was rather vague, but the Black Sun agent (who called himself Pobb, though only he knew why) seemed to find it rather exciting. ‘The search for the monster’! Despite how much he cursed it, he seemed to revere the beast for some strange quality or another. He’d even mentioned it’s ‘grace’ once.

It probably seemed like the best way to be able to escape from the floating city, but Pobb had another comment for that. The general certainty was that he’d know when and where you’d escaped to (magic?) and things would end badly for you. However, you could earn your freedom… if you found the monster. The best proof was probably a missing limb. You couldn’t lie to him either, so that was a bad tactic as well (certainly magic).

“So! You. Slave. Ready to work?” The man grinned, un-balanced face looking strange and almost creepy with that expression. He certainly wasn’t handsome, in any way shape or form. “Tall. Short? Middle. Middie? Ah Rhysol dammit, I give up.” The comment, as strange as it sounded, was him talking about a nickname… a concept he enjoyed thoroughly. The name Pobb was a nickname, and he’d give all of the other three slaves nicknames as well. One skinny boy was Paddle, despite the fact that he swam like a fish and was exceptionally good at diving. The Konti he’d called Gill, before remembering that it had to be a feminine name. He didn’t like the word Gilla (something about it being a friend’s exotic pet), so he’d added an ‘e’ to the end instead. Gille. Which didn’t change the pronunciation at all, and made the whole thing pointless.

“I’ll give you a name when you get out. If you get out. Now. In!” He walked up to the slave (who’d been standing near the edge of a small canal) and pushed, shoving her heavily in the water. “Swim around a bit and tell me if you find anything,” he instructed, before reclining in a chair he’d brought along, looking the epitome of comfort.

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[Alea Davenport]

Alea was in a state of pleasant bewilderment. She barely remembered the past season. Valerius had kept her so busy with mind-numbing chores that she had no time to, well, "get into trouble" as he'd put it. Maybe she had gotten into a bit too much excitement the previous winter, but that still didn't seem like enough to justify...chores.

In any case, what Valerius thought didn't seem to matter anymore. She had recently been informed that she was being sold. All her tired mind could register at the time was that the chores were over. Possibly at the cost of new ones, but she didn't care. It was something different.

She was not naive enough to be swayed by the potential for freedom. She had been in Ravok long enough to know that they did not release slaves often or easily, and she'd been in the rest of the world enough to know that life would not be much easier out there. Still, she knew she would not be satisfied with her existence here forever, (as much as it had been a nice break from hunger and cold), and if she somehow stumbled across freedom in the midst of this little adventure, she wouldn't complain.

From what she understood of today's task, it sounded more like a holiday than anything else. 'Go swimming. Oh by the way, small chance at stumbling across freedom. But otherwise, have fun going for a swim.' Compared to scrubbing pots, it hardly felt like slavery at all. Even Pobb's bizarre desire to name her despite the fact that she already had a perfectly good name did little to spoil her mood. She'd gotten plenty used to ignoring the "masters" in her time here. She merely stared blankly as he rambled, waiting to see if a response was required, nodding when necessary but not bothering to speak.

She did let out a small yelp when he pushed her into the water. That seemed, unnecessary, but slave owners tended to feel the need to through their weight around to reinforce their authority, usually when it was pointless. That's what separated them from, say, military leaders. Once in the water, she had her excuse not to sit and listen to the windbag anymore. Ignoring the other swimmers, she paddled down the canal in the least-taken direction. She did not particularly want company for this, especially company that might see her as a rival.

Before she got too far separated however, she took a look at the other swimmers. They were all more comfortable in the water than she was, and while she could tread water with the best of them, she'd never been able to swim particularly fast. The fastest swimmer, the pale woman, was already out of her sight, but she saw the others raising their arms over their heads and driving them through the water like oars. A vague memory flickered into her mind, things she'd been taught as a child.

Deciding it wouldn't hurt to try it out, she took a deep breath and arranged herself until she was flat in the water, face down. (This was why she'd never liked this kind of swimming, the face underwater part.) Then she raised an arms over her head and brought it in a circle through the water, pulling herself forward. She did the same with the other arm, getting herself into an easy, alternating rhythm. Every other stroke she turned her head to the side and took a gasp of air.

By the time she was at the end of the canal, she had gotten the hang of it, but she wasn't going much faster than usual, and she felt like she was forgetting something. Feeling frustrated and a little tired from using muscles in a way she hadn't practiced in a while, she stopped for a bit to catch her breath. She quickly lost her horizontal position as her feet sank like stones. She started kicking them to keep herself afloat, then almost went underwater trying to smack her head for being so stupid. Of course, kicking her feet was the other part of swimming she'd forgotten.

After indulging in a sigh, she took a few more breaths and set off on another set of strokes (and kicks!). She still did not feel like she was exactly flying through the water, but when she poked her head up again, she had gone farther than she thought. Emboldened by this, she continued on her way.

It occurred to her to wonder where exactly she was supposed to look for the lake monster. (She wondered idly if it would be bigger than a Jamoura.) Should she stay in the canals? She imagined a lake creature would be more comfortable out away from the city, but she wondered if swimming in that direction might be mistaken for an escape attempt. Ah well, perhaps she would swim around randomly and see where she ended up. It's not like she expected to actually find anything.

[Abstract]

Pobb was carefully watching the new slave, wanting to keep an eye on her progress. The others had spread out rather far and had started diving, heading under water to search for the ‘fish’ that lived there. Despite his strange personality, though it might have been the cause, he was actually a good aurist, and was keeping track of the five constantly disappearing into the water by watching their auras… which were more visible under the dark surface than a human figure. Or non-human, thinking of the Konti.

The new slave (he still needed a name) was stubbornly not copying the others. She seemed to not want to dive, instead swimming back and forth a little awkwardly across the canal. He recognized the stroke, after watching so many other swimmers, and he could tell that it was much less graceful than most. He smirked at the thought, but remembered his job. And the slave’s job.

”Dive, slave! DIVE!” he called loudly, when she stopped for breath. Going back and forth wouldn’t find you the fish! The only way you’d notice it was if it decided your foot would make a nice snack. Though that wasn’t really a problem, in his opinion. A one-footed slave might sell for a little less, but the pits always needed fresh meat to crush. Though the higher-ups would probably scold him for damaging property.

No matter if Alea started diving or not, he would call her back maybe a chime later. ”New slave! Turn back, I have a present!” He said it as if it wasn’t really a present at all, and maybe a punishment… though that was him attempting to scare the slave. And it probably didn’t work. He was, in fact, giving her something.

When she arrived back at the docks, Pobb would fish something out of a box and passed it very gently open. ”If you break them, you’ll regret it,” he warned, a scowl on his face. The item was a pair of goggles, two glass bucket-like things, one for each eye, with tight leather around to create a seal. There was also a leather strip around the back, which would fit a little tightly around Alea’s head, but would fit rather easily.

”Put them over your eyes. Then you can open them. You’re supposed to be looking for the petching thing… so go look!” He made a kicking motion at her to force her back into the water, though would never actually hit. Instead he frowned, taking in the sight of the slave with goggles, before his expression turned into a grin.

”Goggles! Your name is goggles!”

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