Jeremy
Vhekraul Marikstaed
Whylderholm Desposit Centre

Vhekraul gritted his teeth and breathed deeply through his mouth and out his nose in repetition, holding back a sharp gag reflex. "Yeah... Yeah you're a focking a gift alright" He began to squint, and almost raised his crossbow on instinct. "Now how badly are you knocked about from those drugs, can you stand?" 

The other men stood within a few foot's vicinity of Aleks, though not nearly enough to share his breathing air. They traded turns staring at him, looking away not to feign manners but out of their own cringe.
Carlos
Aleksandr Skagerlly
Whylderholm Deposit Centre
Aleks didn't look at any of the men around him, staring down at the ground beneath him. He didn't need to see them to feel their disgust, the tense air in the room told him everything he needed to know. The boy hated how hot their tentative stares were; he felt like an animal, trapped and placed on display for public shock and awe. 
"I believe I can stand. If you would like me to, I will do so. You are in control, sir, and may do as you wish. Thank you for having me," These words were not his own, they were fragments of things he'd been commanded to say before. He was... Afraid, to say the least, of what was in store. Never had he been met with such disgust.
Jeremy
Vhekraul Marikstaed 
Whylderholm Deposit Centre

Vhekraul had seen a lot, he had participated in many illegal, one might say immoral things. And this was not that. He had transferred a person, there was nothing wrong about this at all, but he could feel tension crawling under his skin.
"Well, we'll need you to load up on in this cage- er a transfer cell if you will" Vhekraul scratched his neck. "Well need to put you through inspection, and then after that, we'll put you into rest, so climb on up if you would" Vhekraul commanded his men to lower the transport cage.
Carlos
Aleksandr Skagerlly
Whylderholm Deposit Centre
Aleks bowed his head deeply, even further than it had already been hung, as a show of his gratitude. Not that it was necessary, as his thanks were soon given.
"Of course. Thank you for your kindness. I appreciate how gentle your men are, sir," Truly, he was quite glad; he had been bent and broken before, evidenced by the myriad of scars that dotted his back, so this sudden caution was welcomed. Deep inside, in his heart of hearts, he knew it was only because someone had paid a lot of money to have him. Or perhaps given his father troops? No, it had to be money, if it were manpower they would not be so delicate. Money was at sake.
Complacently, he ducked into the cage, gathering himself into a pale bundle in one of its corners.
Jeremy
Vhekraul Marikstaed 
Whylderholm Deposit Centre 

Marikstaed ordered his men into place, the cage moving slowly but steadily, each men checking their footing, they couldn't risk tripping. One thousand other crates were being loaded and deposited around them, most containing large amounts of coin, but many contained raw materials, narcotics, stolen fine goods, even live people. It was a controlled kind of chaotic.

Marikstaed felt further at peace when Aleks was out of his direct view. He paused before contemplating the first of his many questions. "Do you have a name?"
Carlos
Aleksander Skagerlly
Whylderholm Deposit Centre
Aleks shivered beneath his thin silks, drawing his knees to his chest and tightening into a tense ball. He felt lightheaded; the drugs still crept in the corners of his mind, but he was grateful that he wasn't in some comatose state. The lively nature of such a building made him sick, for he was rather secluded most of the time. He would've preferred to be stowed away in his study, rather than in some stranger's bird cage, housed in a massive zoo. The question drew him from his uncomfortable thoughts.
"My name is Aleksandr Skagerlly, though most just call me Aleks. You may have heard the title 'boy lordling', for that is my most common label," His voice was just loud enough to be heard, but among the racket of sound, it was like an angel's whisper.
Jeremy
Vhekraul Marikstaed 
Whylderholm Deposit Centre 

Marikstaed truly thought of if he had heard he name before. He had never. Why would he? People like this were way out of his pay range and even further out of his view of *Entertainment*. And then the words *Boy lordling* Were said.

"Ah, a boy is it? Strange." Vhekraul lost his conversational tone. "So would that be House Skagerlly then, House Skaggerly of where?" The group had made it about halfway to their destination.
Carlos
Aleksandr Skagerlly
Whylderholm Deposit Centre
Aleks hadn't expected his few titles to jog any memories. These didn't seem like the sorts if men to dabble in his work, and if they were, they certainly wouldn't soon be telling others. His existence itself was an open secret, shared among whispering voices in private spaces with no prying ears. Such a title drove great shame onto his shoulders. 
"I believe the 'boy' bit refers to my... Looks. Obviously, I'm not the most masculine, which is precisely why my line of work is that of a slave. House Skagerlly of the Witherlands is where I come from, known for their brutality and cruelty. Certainly, one wouldn't be able to see such malice in me. My father doesn't even consider me to be of his blood," He admitted with a sigh, "Maybe I run with some other blood. His sons are all brutes, barbarians, and yet I'm... Not."
Jeremy
Vhekraul Marikstaed 
Whylderholm Deposit Centre 

"What." Marikstaed halted in his tracks and his men followed suit. They desperately wanted to know if an overseer heard Aleks talking, almost certainly. They knew better to careen their necks around to check their supervisors, stopping was call for attention enough, they didn't need anything else to call men's gaze to them.

Cold sweat rolled down Marikstaed's back. 
"You cannot say that" Vhekraul remained visibly calm though his voice haltered. "We do not transport those nor would we wish to. You are being paid, clothed, housed and fed, you are not what you are referring to yourself as. You may be when you leave and you may be under the same circumstances in a residence not here" Marikstaed stated as if he had memorized a speech. "Do you completely understand what I am saying?" Marikstaed took deep breaths, he had crossed a genuine mental boundary line. "You will not ever state that word again here, do you understand?"
Carlos
Aleksandr Skagerlly
Whylderholm Deposit Centre
Aleks seemed taken aback by his aversion to the word, but knew better than to question those who so kindly hosted him. He found it ironic that he was being lectured on the use of the word slave while enclosed in a thick cage, surrounded by guards, but those thoughts never surfaced.
"I... I apologize. I should never have spoken that word, and I should've known not to use such foul language. You may punish me, if you wish, for I am deserving of it. It is deeply shameful that I have so offended someone kind enough to host me," He recited, cowering further into the corner. 
Though he had indeed presented punishment as an option, he wanted anything *But* That. His old scars ached as the painful memories welled like beads of blood; he felt like a child, scolded for breaking something. There was certainly no way he could've known, and yet he felt responsible.