<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Status</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Wiped out, stripped, bound, caged</strong><br/><del>AC 19  (touch 15, flat-footed 14, -2 against improvised weapons)</del>, HP 12/105 (max 94 due to CON damage)<br/><br/>Profane Gift (Telepathic link to Ishtar, +2 Dex)<br/>CON damage: -2 (now 11)<br/><br/>Spells remaining: 7 of 7 1st, 5 of 6 2nd, 4 of 4 3rd, 1 of 1 from bonded object.  Uses of bow left: 3 of 3.<br/>Quiver: 7 common arrows, 10 silvered, 9 cold iron, 2 Tangleshot, 5 adamantine arrows, 2 greater hushing arrows, 8 +1 Dragon Bane, 1 Rayne's Resumption, 5 Holy, 3 Merciful<br/>     (pack: 25 common, 5 silvered, 9 cold iron, 1 tangleshot, 5 adamantine, 8 +1 Dragon Bane, 8 Holy arrows)<br/><br/>Dixon HP: 42<br/></div></div><br/>Rayne had slumped against Sylvia, who needed a bit of rest too - and was quite a bit messier as well.  It wasn't the magical bed of the Stag's End inn, but it was enough to get her part-way to recovery.<br/><br/>Fortunately, her awakening this time was not to the sight and sound of Sylvia bouncing on orc laps - and even more fortunately, it wasn't to be used by the orcs herself.  Quite a bit of time had passed, and she felt somewhat better - though she was still in no condition to take on anything above a single first-level orc.  She assumed Sylvia was similar - and there remained the problem of their near-nudity.  She just hoped the dwarves - clearly they were in the dwarven territory now - would treat them better.  It seemed a certainty.<br/><br/><hr/><br/>She looked all around, as the slave-cart clattered on - she was surprised and annoyed that the elves ignored the plight of two of their own... well, one-and-a-half... but presumably it was beneath them to be troubled by a couple of abused slaves that they were in no position to free.  "Hey!" she ventured, in elvish, moving to that side of her tiny cart-cage.  "Hey, fellow-elves... one of your own is in distress."  Sylvia, at least, was one of their own....<br/><br/>She hoped perhaps there might be a PC or two in the lot - it wasn't an unreasonable hope, to find someone stopping at this trading post, though it was rather out of the way.  Perhaps PCs would have no cause to come here unless they needed something from the dwarves specifically - and since the Change, she didn't expect to find players just wandering around to new areas out of curiosity.  No, it didn't seem likely that they would find rescuers in this lot of merchants and worse.  Eventually, embarrassed at the jeers, she stopped watching the crowd, and hunched down to conceal herself a little.<br/><br/>She looked up again at the cart's stop, in a much less appealing section of this trading centre.  Those two dwarves were obviously the orc's intended buyers - Rayne watched on approach, and squeaked in outraged surprise as a short, thick arm darted in to give her a forceful grope.  Whatever he was checking, she apparently met with his satisfaction; she winced, then glared, but the dwarf was already turned away, bargaining with her current orcish captors.<br/><br/>When they were allowed out of the cage, Rayne stumbled - it was tricky to get moving without the benefit of hands, and with an orc pulling roughly on her chain.  But she kept on her feet, though she no longer had the luxury of turning away to conceal her bare breasts from the leering eyes of both orcs and dwarves.  She didn't know... didn't want to imagine... how owning the two elves could be worth a sizable sack of coins to these dwarves.  The way the lead dwarf yanked them along didn't bode well for their destined role!  Rayne did her best to follow, scurrying along as the dwarf moved steadily - Sylvia beside her was doing the same, and neither of them had the energy or humour to trade quips or make observations about the grim surroundings.<br/><br/>More grim, inside - Rayne was well-suited to her half-elven character, preferring to at least have open sky above her, or at worst, large windows in a room.  This place was oppressive, claustrophobic even where the passages were huge, wide as any city street in Port Lannis.  Probably she'd get used to it... but then again, she hoped not.  She certainly wouldn't get used to being stared at like this - in that she was somewhat grateful for the lower light, but not low enough to keep her from seeing the dwarves turning and staring, and more.  She tried to twist away from the occasional grabbing hand - no easy task, and it seemed their owner didn't care how they were pawed, so long as they kept up his pace.  At first Rayne objected, spitting out a "stop it!" or "let me go" at the bolder dwarves, but it just elicited laughter... cheeks burning, she then twisted and scurried along in silence.  Even this crude treatment was able to start a low tingling sensation in her exposed flesh, a sensations the system's filter very clearly did not suppress.<br/><br/>Thankfully - in one way - they were soon into an entirely dark street/passage that wasn't so traveled, reducing the comments and groping.  But elvish blood gave no able to see in utter dark, and even with the smooth surface of dwarven craftsmanship, both Rayne and Sylvia occasionally stumbled, and naturally held back a bit against the tug of the chain.  Between the stronger pull from in front, and the occasional rather vicious smack from behind with the wheelbarrow, they reached their destination all too quickly.  Worse, as Rayne thought about it after the fact, the period of blackness and insistent hurrying by the dwarves had kept her from noting the route they had taken ... she hadn't thought of that in the first place, but the black streets were now a complete mystery to her.  She should have been paying attention, should have been planning an escape!  How quickly she had succumbed to an attitude of helplessness when securely bound!<br/><br/>The prison, or slave quarters, didn't make escape look any easier - it had all the solidity one expected of dwarves.  But she had never known that dwarves kept slaves - or was this something new?  They had certainly accumulated a selection... a very female selection, which was not at all comforting.   "Perhaps ... the males are kept in another area?" she suggested hopefully, in elven.<br/><br/>At least they were being freed - that is, released from the manacles and chains.  It was a great relief to have that weight lifted away, and to finally be able to bring her arms forward again.  She caught her balance as the dwarf pushed her roughly into one cell, and spun to find the door already clanging closed.<br/><br/>"Oh... did you?"  Rayne refrained from commenting on just how much Sylvia had enjoyed the orcs.  "They did at least keep us outside, and with a seemingly better chance of eventual escape."  Rayne examined the door lock, then noticed the harpy watching from the edge of her cage - Rayne crossed her arms across her chest automatically, and stepped back from the door.  She hesitated, then attempted a smile.  "Hello... neighbour" she hazarded, in common - she wasn't even sure if the bird-woman could speak.  But they could sing, so perhaps.