With her eyes closed, Alice was still able to sense that everything was much brighter than the torchlit basement she was just taken through.  Along with that was the new scents; while stinking gnoll and leather almost overpowered everything else, she couldn’t help but also notice a tang of grass.  That, along with a hot, humid wave of air told her she was outside now.  Whenever she braved to open her eyes, Alice would see a vast, alien landscape.  They were outside, but apparently not anywhere she’d seen of Golarion—the sky was a sickly green, the sun too large, close, and red, the tall savannah grass all around was black, and when it brushed by was surprisingly sharp and irritating.  The entire environment was inhospitable, offensive, and oppressive.  Looking up from whence they came, she could see the dark portal evaporate as it closed, leaving behind just an anchoring archway of humanoid bones.<br/><br/>“You belong to Yeenoghu now, in his realm, serve his commands, die, and feed his hunger.”  This was apparently their orientation, as explained as the gnolls stripped their armor and equipment—not caring if garments were ripped in the process—and locked them to the front of a handcart along some humanoids already there, all their arms chained to the handles and legs fettered with enough chain to walk but not run.  As the “ambassador” explained their role, the other gnolls looked down, licking their chops in apparent anticipation of Yeenoghu’s future scraps.  For now, at least, the gnolls didn’t lay hands on them again, instead climbing into the handcart to relax.  The talker picked up a long, slender buggy whip, cracked it against Faunra’s back, and growled “Mush!”<br/><br/>The other slaves seemed to have been anticipating this, having already gripped the handles of the cart and started quickly walking and shuffling forward, dragging the cart full of gnolls behind them across the abyssal plain.  There didn’t seem to be much to the landscape besides the grasslands and slight rut their cart followed through it.  The other slaves looked weak and tired, though accustomed to their plodding drudgery, trying to avoid bringing any notice to themselves, as it was usually accompanied by the whip.  As hours passed, they were parched with thirst, though there didn’t seem to be any relief in his hot blight.  The gnolls passed the time chewing some bones or old meat, hooting and grunting some sort of conversation, fighting each other and shaking the cart, or drowsing away.  At one point, however, the hooting started up suddenly in earnest, and the speaker cracked the whip more urgently.  Ahead, in the sky, were clouds—not clouds of rain or storm, however, but dust, blackening the sky.  As they trudged ever closer, an impossible vision began to take shape:  it appeared they were approaching a mountain, with thousands upon thousands of figures marching towards them, kicking up the pillars of dust.  With more detail, however, the mountain appeared more artificial, resolving as a colossal structure of metal and stone, and it grew closer along with the masses before it.  What sounded like thunder in the cloud of dust now appeared to be the dozens of giant rollers and treads attached to the mobile castle, allowing it to be ponderously, laboriously dragged by the thousands of humanoid slaves heaving massive ropes and chains stretching back and anchored to the base.  The sheer hubris and folly of such a monument was only overshadowed by the backbreaking pain that such an effort inflicted upon the wretched masses attached to it.<br/><br/>“Shit, I thought dragging a half-dozen gnolls in a wagon was awful…” Tamarie gaped, stopping to take in the absurd spectacle, earning her an encouraging whip to keep moving.  While they moved at a slow, steady march with the wagon, it was speedy compared to their intersection with the massive, mobile fortress.  The gnolls finally jumped off the cart and simply left, barely transferring custody of their prisoners to other gnolls that removed them from the cart and led them to the castle.<br/><br/>The innards of the mobile fortress were rough, and seemed to be constantly under redesign and maintenance to correct weak infrastructure, walls that broke loose from attacks or simply being wheeled around, or by the needs and whims of the master.  The elves were led up staircases, then a freight elevator that seemed to be in constant motion with gears connected to the fortress’ movement, and to a secure chamber.  The center had a burnt-out firepit, a spread of food, and beds of pelts and furs, contrasted to the walls with chains and manacles.  The gnolls tossed the prisoners inside and left, barring the door behind.  Shortly after, it opened again, this time to human slaves bringing flagons and decanters of beer and wine, and laying out surprisingly delicate, bejeweled outfits on the beds.  “Please refresh yourselves and dress, or you and us both will all be punished…” they warned, before leaving as well.<br/><br/>The outfits couldn’t rightly be called clothes—the harem pants were the most substantial, with long baggy trouser legs that tied at the ankles, though the long slits in the sides and transparent silk meant they didn’t actually hide much.  The rest was many bangles, bracelets, necklaces, collars, some more silk that might make a little halter top or vest, depending on which way one wore it.  A pair of earrings had a light length of chain connecting them, which was confusing until Kievanna held them up in front of her breasts and shimmied, making the chain dance.  Faunra just snorted and sat on a pelt, ignoring the outfits despite her torn clothing, getting herself a drink after their long hike through the abyssal savannah.  Tamarie looked appraisingly at the outfits, however, considering what might be better than tattered scraps and possibly valuable to steal.  Kievanna just stripped her torn robes and put on some pants and jewels, including the nipple chain she was conveniently already pierced for and got some wine herself.<br/><br/>As the elves ate and drank, it was a welcome respite from the long night in Gralt, being captured and beaten, nearly executed, then enslaved by gnolls.  While they didn’t know what was coming next, they could at least recover their strength.  As they got into their cups, however, it started to relax them too much; they giggled, drank, played with food and outfits, getting inappropriately aroused, considering the circumstances.  Faunra was too tired to do much, having helped take the majority of the burden dragging the handcart earlier, but Kievanna began stroking herself through her silky pants, soaking them, while gently pulling at the nipple chain she had attached.  She quickly got so into it her eyes crossed and tongue lolled out, essentially blind and deaf to everything around her besides her own irrational pleasure.<br/><br/>It was after they were refreshed and most likely intoxicated that the gnolls came back in—a different group from their careless guards.  Rather, these were taller, powerful, better fed, looking more in authority, though even they trailed behind and deferred to an even larger fiendish female leading them.  They grinned down at the elves who were kind enough to already get the party started, and began disrobing themselves, showing their obvious erect excitement to join the drunk prisoners.  Even the female gnoll revealed an impressive erect pseudopenis that outmatched the males.  Stepping forward, she slapped it into Faunra’s face with a giggle and ordered, “Drunk with wine and blood now, yes, now you suck my cock.  Then you suck<em>all</em>cocks…”  The other gnolls stepped forward as well, clearly ready for their turns using the elves after their matriarch.<br/><br/>[Abyssal planar traits: normal gravity, normal time, normal magic, mildly chaos-aligned, mildly evil-aligned (-2 Cha checks to Lawful or Good characters, -4 to Lawful Good)]<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Perception</div><div class="spoiler_body">Alice notices a table is laid out as a large map of the realm, with notations and icons of some sort of settlements and points of interest, as well as a small mobile model of the castle.  It seemed to be following a regular counterclockwise circumnavigation, currently at the southern border and heading east to the sea.</div></div><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Fort save</div><div class="spoiler_body">Without hydration, Fort save DC 14 from forced march, or take 1d6 nonlethal damage and become fatigued.  Each drink gives +2 to save.  One can drink 1+double Constitution modifier beverages before being sickened 1 hour per drink over maximum.<br/>But the drinks are tainted, as revealed by <em>detect evil</em>, <em>detect poison</em>, DC 20 Wisdom, or DC 20 Craft (alchemy).<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Detected/Identified drug</div><div class="spoiler_body">Daemon Seed, derived from daemon’s spinal fluid, induces euphoria and a storm of eaten memories.  For 1 hour, +1d4 profane bonus to saves and skill checks, +1d6 profane bonus to random skill (Profession).  15% chance of blindness and deafness for 1 hour.  DC 20 Fort vs major addiction.<br/>Tamarie addicted<br/>Faunra fatigued (cannot run or charge, -2 Str, Dex), addicted<br/>Kievanna addicted, blind, deaf</div></div></div></div>