Freedom, or something like it: Session 1<< Back to Game Logs As the line of slave carts came over the next dune, the sun-baked city of Tyr came into view. It was a huge city, with crenelated stone walls that stretched upwards toward the sky several cubits. Those imposing walls gave the impression of being built with blood, sweat, and tears, just as much as the cement that held them together. Not many buildings were tall enough to be seen from the perspective of the slave train other than the palace- an almost pyramidal structure that peeked out over the city walls. The progression wended its way inexorably towards the unforgiving city, though it turned aside rather than go through the huge gates that led into the city. The prisoners could see as they passed within view of the main gates that there were some sort of preparations in progress for some sort of celebration- festive banners that seemed out of place fluttered weakly from the huge gates. But the entrance that the newly captured slaves did not even have that level of festivity in sight, instead being a smaller drab literal hole in the wall of the city, that led out of the sun, and into a darkened tunnel. It would have seemed that being out of the sun should give some relief from the heat, but this wasn't the case, as the tight environs were like an oven, and smelled of unwashed masses, waste, and blood. The slaves were processed quickly as their respective wagons came to the group of templars awaiting the new arrivals. Any speech was met with brutality almost as bad as the example they had left in the desert. Instead, the slaves were expected to stand in silence as they were carelessly stripped, their items taken by the head templar or passed through the lower ranks. Dice could be heard in the background as some of the guards gambled to see whom would get what loot. The prisoners were then shaved to reduce the chances of lice or other vermin, marched to 6 cubit by 6 cubit cell in groups, and the door secured behind them. Again and again they did the same thing, efficiently moving through the masses as they went along, only interrupted by bursts of merciless and brutal violence when they were opposed. The elemental was singled out for questioning by the overseer, a stocky human with a nose that had been broken more than once, giving his face an angular cast. "What the hell are you?" "Genasi," the elemental replied. "Cindersoul Genasi." The overseer regarded the Genasi for a moment, looking up and down her strangely constructed body. "Slave?" the overseer asked the head templar. "Or attraction?" The templar, a more refined, if more muscled than an administrator would normally be man in scale armor adorned with metal accented ceramic medallions holding his flowing cape on his shoulders. He took his time evaluating the question before answering "Slave," with a toss of his hand. The Genasi was placed in the cell with four others- one of the half-giant guards, a tiefling that had been caught up in the battle, a brawny mul, and a slender human. These were survivors, for once they were in the cell and the guards gone the half-giant hunkered down in one corner of the cell, appropriating a bone he found on the floor and sharpening it against one of the walls. The tiefling and the human began to do likewise, all very aware of not only the suffering going on beyond the cell door, but also the suffering that might take place within the cell itself. The mul paced around the cell, looking out to see what was going on in the long hall, before looking back to his cellmates- specifically the human. "What are you looking at?" he spat. "You know anything about this place, mule?" the human asked instead mildly. "What did you call me?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. "Mule. That's what you are isn't it? I haven't seen many of your kind... aren't you normally slaves? That's why I thought you might have been here before." Seeing that the slur was a mere slip, the mul calmed down a bit. "Yeah. I've been here before," he said, sighing. "And hoped never to be back." "In that case, we'd better be trying to find a way out." "Out?" the mul laughed. "You really don't know anything about Tyr. These are the pens below the arena." At this, the half-giant laughed darkly. "What's your problem? What are you laughing at?" The half-giant regarded the mul for a moment, making sure he had his full attention before answering, "I smell death." The mul held the half-giant's gaze for a moment before shaking his head. "So that's a better reason to try to escape, right? Die here... or die escaping. What's the difference?" "At least if we escape, we can die killing them instead of entertaining them," the half-giant interjected. "Ok, so say we escape the pens, what then? We really stick out like this." "One step at a time," the human said, regarding the door. Though sturdy, the door wasn't locked, just latched with some sort of gravity mechanism. The human experimented with it, then after a moment, realized he couldn't do it by himself. "Half-giant. You want to get out, right? Why don't you help?" The half-giant considered for a moment, then came to his feet slowly. After looking at the latch, and getting instruction from the human, he said, angrily. "I can't do this! My hands are too big. Get the little one over there," he said, pointing to the tiefling. "So? You want to help?" the human said. The tiefling shrugged. "Why not?" he said, dusting his hands off as he came to his feet. After checking to make sure that no guards were in the immediate area, the pair worked the lock. "Put it back," the tiefling hissed. "We should try this when there's less light- we won't last a second if we try now." As if to punctuate his words, there was a scream cut short down the hall. The human nodded, and the lock was placed back. Then, instead of retreating from the gate, he asked, "Anyone over there?" "Ungh... yeah," a low voice responded. "What do you want?" another voice responded after a second. "We're getting out of here," the human responded. "Yeah... just like those other berks down the hall. None of us are going anywhere but the pits." "Not us... and we need a few good people to go along with us," he rejoined. "A few good people? Or a few good distractions?" the voice replied cynically, and there was an answering laugh from within the cell. "Does it matter which? You get your chance just like us." "What's the plan?" "Nothing past getting out of the doors. Unless you have a better one?" Silence greeted his query, and after a moment's pause, he continued. "You in... or out?" "We'll be here... it's not like we're going anywhere." That done, As they continued their preparations for a bloody night, the slaves were disturbed only twice. Once for dinner, which turned out not to be enough to sustain them all. The slaves decided to give the food to the half-giant, as it is what would be expected- that he would use his size to gain an advantage. And indeed, the same sort of scenario that the human predicted could be heard to be playing out as shrieks and sounds of pain echoed through the hall. The second time the guards made rounds again to place torches into the sconces on the wall, casting deep shadows through the tunnel. "Other than the gate, we'll need one of the lights," the human said to the others. "I have that handled," the tiefling answered. "It has to be fast, and silent... as long as possible," the human continued, looking out the gate. "We got it..." Just at that point, they heard the sound of one of the gates splintering, and steps in the tunnel. "Perfect... let's go! We've got to take advantage..." But in the background, the yells of exultation became screams of pain. The laughter of the guards overlaid it, as they walked towards the prostrate forms of the slaves spread out on the hard ground. Looking out the cell door, they could see that the commotion had drawn the attention of the other slaves, as hands gripped the bars of the doors he could see. But more striking were the guards walking casually towards the slaves. One placed his foot on one of the slave's neck, forcing his face into the ground. But the slave seemed not to notice, so intent was he on whatever was causing him pain. The head guard walked to a central position, as the others dragged the hapless victims closer to him so the other slaves could see them. "I come to correct a misunderstanding," his voice boomed, and the other guards chuckled darkly. "Your cell doors are not to keep you in, but to protect you! At night, things prowl the darkness that like the taste of slaves, so it's your choice. Stay in the cell, and have a chance at glory in the arena, and eventual freedom, or honorable death." He turned one of the slaves over with a boot, and the others could see him frothing at the mouth, his eyes wide, his rictus wracked hands grappling towards some unseen foe. "Or leave the cell, and choose... certain death." With that, he turned, and the guards dragged the now-feebly thrashing slaves behind him. The human saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned, but he was not the target of the tiefling. Now holding a bone sliver in his hand, he cut across the mul's neck from behind, eliciting a spurt of bright red arterial blood. It wasn't as precise as the tiefling would have liked, and the mul continued to struggle. He was sore hurt, and his eyes as he looked towards the human showed an awareness that death was near. But he still continued to fight, determined to take his attacker with him. For his part, the human withdrew to the side of the cell, watching the struggle, even as he shook his head in exasperation. The other slaves would be no help either... the genasi was stunned by the suddenness of it all, and the half-giant smiled, delighted to watch the mortal combat. The tiefling stabbed him in the side as he struggled to maintain his hold, but the mul was able to get free enough to make the stab for his kidney into a painful scrape across his ribs. He tried to elbow the tiefling, but could not get any force behind it, between the awkward position, and his fleeting strength. Finally, the tiefling was able to stun him with another blow, allowing him to finish the mul with a final strike. He stood over the corpse of the mul, looking at his fellow slaves. "What?" he said shrugging. "I was hungry!" he finished, as if that explained everything. Continued in Freedom: Session 2 >>
|
