<div class="floatright"><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/3e/Slave_guard_flipped_gray.jpg)<br/>Some guard<br/></div></div><br/>The guard snaps his head between his comrade on the stairs and his blood thirsty Drejda, momentarily torn.<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>“Go! Get her!”</strong></span>he then snaps, turning just in time to see the wood elf lunge at him with her dagger. Unable to dodge it he braces himself to take the blade on the shoulder, trusting his armour to protect him, which it partially does. His own dagger catches the naked sex slave just below the breast.<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>“TALKIM!!”</strong></span>he roars over his shoulder, towards the other door through which the sound of more guards can be heard, though they seem to enjoying themselves, unaware of the attempted breakout.<br/><br/>Lilian leaves the lot to sort out their differences, entering a walled courtyard in pursuit of the “fleeing” Kalleis. The feeling of hard packed earth replaces stone under her bare soles. Grabbing the priestess by the shoulder she makes a show of examining her bindings, taking the opportunity to examine her surroundings. There is a gateway, closed, barred and manned by two guards. Directly across from her is a training ground, complete with two archery targets and a straw stuffed dummy. Weeds sprout from the ground around the pole that secures it. There are four other buildings, none as big as the holding cell she just entered. The smallest one, next to the gates is presumably a gatehouse, the purpose of the others less obvious, though one boasts a set of scaffolding beneath which brilliant white plaster dries in the night air. To the left, thick sheets of canvas obscured half a dozen piles, each twice the height of a man, whilst a larger iron cage rests along the wall to the right, big enough to hold 8 slaves comfortably, and about 30 uncomfortably. The bars are flecked with rust, especially at the corners, it has been out in the elements for a while.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>Brynndir can taste freedom, and this motivates her, fuelling the primal strength within. Normally she could not sustain it so out of combat, but she is in combat, her enemy the iron bars. With each turn of the rope the metal wields a little and speckles of stone dust fall, until an opening is produced that is almost escapable through. With the tools at their disposal, this is the best they can hope to achieve. Its task complete, the anger leaves the red-headed woman.<br/><br/>Through the bent bars is an alleyway, filthy water gathering between the cobble stones. To the left the alleyway leads to a dead end, to the right a gate appears to block the way after 7 paces, but that seems easily climbable, and then the sex slaves will be on the main street, as soon as they can squeeze through the tight opening.  Brynndir tries, but whilst brute force worked against the bars, it is insufficient here and she is forced to pull herself  back her shoulder gets caught.<br/><br/>Kendal meanwhile has found a loose cage, and lain that against the bench, along with a piece of wall wrack she somehow managed to break off. The resulting barricade will slow the guards, especially if they imagine the sex slaves will be manning it.<strong>“Let me go through first,”</strong>Kendal asks, partially out of fear, but there is some sense to her request too. She appears lither than  Brynndir, and of the three would be least able to defend herself when the guards do arrive.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">Its a DC: 20 acrobatics check to squeeze through. A result of 5 or less will mean you do something wrong and end up stuck.</div></div><br/><br/><br/><br/><div class="floatright"><div align="center">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/3e/Slave_guard_flipped_gray.jpg)<br/>Some other guards<br/></div></div><br/>The evening is growing late, but the slave trade never sleeps, and two guards each bring a newly purchased specimen towards the holding cells, where they can spend a night before being sold on at auction tomorrow. Still, even for a city with such a vibrant slave market, today's catch is rather special. The guards are not privy to the full details of each captive, they just need to keep them save and know just how far they can indulge their wandering hands on the merchandise, but they have seen and heard enough. Even if only half the rumours are true, a wood elf berserker, a pirate queen, or two, mages, a priestess, the daughter of a wine merchant who finally grew tired of his spoilt brat, the security at the holdings cells, and the auction tomorrow, will be tightened a notch. Another 10 or so guards placed, and the profits will no doubt be record high. Sure some will shy away from such capable, nay dangerous slaves, especially unbroken, but among the wealthy there are always those willing to pay extra for a rare investment or status symbol. And now two more of them come along.<br/><br/>Granted the guard of the first sex slave, a dark haired woman with the subtly toned body of a dancer or acrobat, isn't too impressed with his charge.<strong>“Oh look,”</strong>he remarks, lifting the messy hair from her face, only to let it drop back again,<strong>“Someone found a half-drowned rat in the drain and decided to sell it rather than eat it,”</strong>he tugs on her leash several times, making the crotch rope rub back and forwards.<strong>“Don't worry street vermin,”</strong>he pats her chest,<strong>“I'm sure someone will take pity on you. Your won't be worth much, and you'll likely need to sleep in a cage, can't have you scurrying free,”</strong>a pause to chuckle,<strong>“But you'll get a bath out of it, likely some food, maybe even some perfume. After all, these,”</strong>his hand stays down, fondling each of Malia's breasts in turn, trapping the nipple between two fingers,<strong>“Have got to be worth a couple of silver,”</strong><br/><br/>The other sex slave is similarly fit, but whilst her movements are still graceful there is a more deliberate, practical nature to them. Her long blonde hair is better kept, her posture taller. One could almost say proud, if they looked past the bindings, harness and other accessories.<strong>“Now you,”</strong>her handler declares, falling back to walk beside her,<strong>“Are going to make the slavemaster a lot of money. You'll be well kept, in a manor or palace, eat fine food, be wrapped in silk of reds and blues, until your unveiling in the evening. Then its down on your owners wrinkled, knobbly cock you go,”</strong>he patted Valeria's ass, then gave it a firm squeeze,<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;">“Oh yes, your owner is going to be some fat, old man. Just the way it is dear, no young man has the coin to buy you. Shame really. Trying to say something? Do you want me to remove the gag?”</span>two sharp smacks are delivered to her ass.<strong>“Come on, walk properly. Knees high. Didn't they teach you how to strut?”</strong>he laughs heartily, jostling the sex slave's shoulders, careful not to push too hide. If she fell she might graze her skin, and that would earn him a lashing in turn.<br/><br/>They are taking one of the lesser known routes, to minimize the amount of gawking, but words has travelled among the common people too, and a sizeable crowd gathers in clumps along the way.<strong>"Hey, why don't you stop off for a drink guardsmen? On the house. Just leave them in the backroom while you enjoy a nice, cold beer,</strong>"<em>"Hey, look at her cunt! Its dripping! I swear I saw it drip!"</em><strong>“Look, black and gold! Reckon they'll be sold as a pair?”</strong><br/><br/><br/>