Fresh from the Slave Market
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Demascion Lycan on 12-08-2012, 18:46:06</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>12-08-2012, 18:46:06</strong>
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				<div align="center">Demascus (https://docs.google.com/document/d/1pxNDtfCM4V84z03p9IgubDhtOW-OXDmCgQ2yTIazUCI/edit)</div><br><em>I'm running low on food,</em> Demascus thought as he pulled out his meager lunch. He had known for a while that it was almost time to make a good stop on his travels. Demascus hadn't stayed in any one place for long since that fateful day five years prior. The loss of his best friend made it hard for him to trust himself around others. Of course he had met a few people along the way who were strong enough to be near him, but they usually had to leave for one reason or another, be it the Lycan-vampire war or just avoiding notice from the humans.<br><br>Cold bread and the last of his deer meat quickly filled his stomach, and he chased it down with a drink from his canteen. It wasn't much, but it allowed him to live a distance from the world that feared him. Even so, he would have to make a stop. Luckily enough, Lyc had made an appearance a few days back and gave him some gold. Demascus wouldn't have to put in the labor for supplies like he had so many times before.<br><br>With a sigh, Demascus headed for the nearest city. It was only an hour's walk from his camp, and he had a safe house there that he would be able to sleep more comfortably in. It had taken him a long time, but he finally had homes in three cities not far from each other. He could rest easy whenever he needed supplies, and continued building his territory to branch out farther. He hoped to eventually have ten cities that he could rest and hide in, but for now, the three were more than sufficient.<br><br>As Demascus entered Creolton, he noticed some yelling coming from a shop on the outskirts of the small city. He slid up to the door and listened in. "You filthy black-skinned, good for nothing bird! You keep acting like this and you will die in that cage!" Demascus heard the shop-keeper say. Demascus knew of this shop, though he had never been in it. He appalled the idea of how slaves were treated by most people. How this one was being treated stirred the aggressive nature of the wolf inside him. He nearly broke the door handle as he stepped inside. What he saw both shocked and awed him. The shop keeper was banging on what appeared to be a large dog kennel with a crowbar. As soon as Demascus opened the door, he stopped.<br><br>"Can I help you?" he asked Demascus, anger still evident on his face.<br><br>"I'd like to see the <em>'good for nothing bird,'</em> you were yelling at," Demascus replied. He didn't really want to own a slave, but now, especially since the cage was so small, he felt he had to at least get one from this place.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>12-08-2012, 22:19:09</strong>
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				Illiam had done it again. She had angered the man that acted as her handler as she so often had before. One would think that he would have learned to keep his fingers from the cage, or just to stay away from her in general. Not him, he was arrogant and prideful as always. The woman hated him, she hated everyone that had put her in this situation. Most of all she hated the war. If not for the war she would not be in that cage in the first place.<br><br>Before his rant had been interrupted the shop keeper was shoving her into the cage again after clipping her flight wings. Her 'cage' had grown ever smaller with each offence she made, not the least of which was biting his fingers repeatedly. She was, in point of fact, responsible for the fore finger of his right hand being a bit shorter then it should have. The final offence that earned her the dog sized cage was a combination of things. She had cursed and fought as normal, but some of the other slaves did as well. What she did was to both knee him in the groin and spit in one of his eyes. The shop keeper had not liked that at all.<br><br>The woman glowered darkly at everyone and everything in site from her cramped quarters. There were fresh bruises forming on her face and arms, though they were difficult to distinguish on her charcoal colored skin. White hair hung in a tangled mess around her face and her wings were pulled in as tightly as they could be, though they way they were forced to bend in the caged looked less then comfortable. Some of the 'clothing' she wore was of metal but the blood red cloth portions were torn and dirty though it was clear they were once of very find make. Her eyes flashed red when the man asked to see her and she watched as the shop keeper moved aside, the crowbar still in hand and ready if she made a wrong move. <br><br>The shop keeper spoke of her as though she weren't there, but that was normal whenever a potential client asked after any slave, "Of course, sir." He couldn't hide the anger in his voice and still sported the limp she had given him. Illiam narrowed her eyes at the man that asked after her but chose to keep her mouth closed. He could, after all, be her way out of that wretched place.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>13-08-2012, 05:07:54</strong>
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				Demascus watched as the man stepped back to the small kennel. The man was large and that only made the kennel look smaller in comparison. He waved the crowbar in Illiam's face. "Give me any trouble and there won't be anything left for him to buy," he threatened in a voice that a normal human, as Demascus appeared, wouldn't have been able to hear. Demascus clenched his fist, but kept silent as he watched.<br><br>The shop keeper, (Raj according to a small plaque on the counter) slid a key into the door and turned it, unlatching the door. Once it was open, he reached in and grabbed at the hybrid's arm, intending to force her out. Of course he wanted to be rid of the girl, but he knew that at the first sign of trouble, slaves were often brought back if he hadn't shown the true nature of the slave.<br><br>Demascus tensed his body, preparing to pounce if Raj got too rough with the slave. He still couldn't see exactly what the slave was, breed or gender, but he had every intention of taking them with him. He couldn't just leave someone to be abused like that. He hated that he couldn't free all of the slaves, but that would put him on people's radar and he would need to go into hiding once again.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>13-08-2012, 15:09:51</strong>
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				The winged creature glared up at him, daring him to touch her as he pulled the door open. Her immediate reaction to his grip on her hand was to fight him, to jerk back while cursing him in a decidedly unusual language. Raj growled at her and grabbed her hand again, giving her no choice but to move out of the cage or be drug out. The last time he drug her out of one of her cages she ended up with a broken wing. <br><br>Once she was out of the kennel he told her to sit on the floor. The woman looked at him like he were an idiot and stood straight up revealing almost every inch of dark grey skin she had to offer. He raised the crow bar threateningly and Illiam made a grab for it, as she often had before. Raj backhanded her and then brought the crowbar down harshly against her side. The woman collapsed and he brought it again to connect with her raised hands, "I told you what would happen you filthy bird!" <br><br>The shopkeepers face was painted red with his rage at the slave, she had given him no end of trouble and been unsaleable due to her bad behavior. Half of what he said made sense only to himself and the mix breed slave he had every intent of killing by that point. Raj seemed to have completely forgotten that he had a potential client as he raised the crowbar a third time, ready to bring it down on her again. It was clear the beating would go unless he was stopped.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>13-08-2012, 16:16:51</strong>
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				Demascus watched, still as a stone as Raj pulled the winged drow out of her cage. He was in shock when she stood as he had only heard of one Drow before her who had ever become an angel, and he knew that that Drow would have killed anyone who even considered caging him. Demascus wondered who anyone had managed to capture her in the first place, though his thought was drawn short when Raj stuck the girl.<br><br>Apparently it hadn't been enough for him to have hit her, for he raised the crowbar and brought it down at her side. "Hey!" Demascus growled, though the vicious shop keeper apparently was too far gone to hear him or even care. He raised the crowbar a second time and struck the elf as she defended herself to the best of her ability. The crowbar struck her arms, and that would likely cause some serious damage.<br><br>As Raj lifted his crowbar for a third strike, Demascus had seen enough. The wolf inside his had taken over and his eyes flashed a deep red. He launched himself over the counter, landing perfectly balanced on his feet as he moved to stop the cruel keeper. Demascus crouched and pounced, catching Raj in the lower back as he rose. Raj instantly dropped his crowbar and cried out in both shock and pain. He was lucky however because the strike did not break the shop keeper's back.<br><br>Demascus then threw the man against one of the larger steel cages and growled. "You're lucky I have more self control than you deserve," he snarled through his teeth. "My every instinct is telling me to kill you right now on principle, but instead I'm going to pay you the minimum price for her allowed by law. I believe thats three silver crowns. You are going to accept this and never treat another slave as you treated her, do you understand?" he asked, though it was obvious that Raj had no choice in the matter.<br><br>Raj nodded and scurried to the back of the shop the second that Demascus released him. Demascus then walked towards The Drow-Celestial, dropped the silver on top of the cage, knelt down beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked lightly. Normally that would have been a stupid question to ask someone who had been beaten with a crowbar, but both Drows and Angels were tougher than the average human. He wasn't sure exactly how much she could take.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>13-08-2012, 17:44:12</strong>
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				Illiam cringed, ready for the third blow, when Demascus attacked Raj. Her arm and side were bloodied where the edge of the crowbar had caught her just right. The woman forced herself to sit up as she watched the exchange, and her red eyes followed the shopkeeper as he scurried away like the coward her truly was. There was a small hint of her satisfaction before she turned her full attention to the man that approached her. She looked him up and down briefly as he moved towards her and knelt by her side. <br><br>The half-drow woman frowned. She did not understand why he had done it. If he didn't agree with how slaves were treated then he should never have been in the shop to begin with. The question struck her as even odder. She took a moment before she answered, "I've had worse." The accent was strange and musical even with her clear anger. The shopkeeper made a sound and then called back, grumbling under his breath. <br><br>She looked towards the back room and practically growled again, "You should have killed him, or do you mean to let me?" Her eyes were clear and spoke of murder. Illiam locked her jaw before she looked back to Damascus flatly. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>13-08-2012, 22:24:09</strong>
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				Demascus smiled as Illiam told him that she would be alright. He looked over her injuries, knowing that she could have been a lot worse off. She was lucky for what she was. But then she gave him a bit of a worry when she spoke of killing Raj. Demascus understood her desire, but he was not a killer. He had killed to survive, and a few accidentally, but never just killed out of spite and anger.<br><br>He let out a sigh, knowing that he would have to teach her a certain respect for life. It would be a challenge as she was a Drow, but it wouldn't be impossible. "We are not going to kill him," Demascus told her. "I have defended you, paid for you, and scared the man out of his wits. He won't treat anyone the way he treated you ever again for fear of my return." Demascus stood up, looking down at the woman he had bought. He had paid for a challenge it appeared.<br><br>Demascus glances around the shop where slaves of all races, genders and ages were staring at him. He wished that he could guarantee them all a kind master or mistress, but he could not. He couldn't afford the 3 silvers for each of them. He knew he shouldn't have bought the one girl, but she seemed the worst abused of the group. "Let's go," Demascus said as he took his first steps to the door.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>15-08-2012, 15:09:18</strong>
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				She pushed herself to her feet, casting one final glare towards the backroom before she followed him towards the door. Illiam was disappointed that he would not let her kill the man. The bastard did not deserve to live after what he had done to her alone, much less the other slaves. "I suppose that's your final word then." The Drow could not keep the disappointment from her voice and she crossed her arms over her stomach. <br><br>The woman glanced to the other slaves before she looked back to her new owner, "I suppose it would do us both good to know what to call one another, being as you own me know." Her voice took on a tone that was just a little to sweet, "Do you wish for me to simply call you <em>master</em>, as so many others I've heard have required?" She was clearly less then happy with her situation.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>15-08-2012, 21:09:52</strong>
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				Demascus laughed at the idea. He had once had a master. That master had trained him after destroying his life. It was something he hated. He would not have his newest tool calling him the same thing he had called the master of his curse. "There will be none of that," he told her. "I am Demascus. What is your name?" he asked her. He was going to make good use of her. Her strength would make his life easier. Beyond that, as were all elves, the Drow blood made her very appealing.<br><br>"I think we will get along just fine. Though technically I own you, this will be more of a partnership. I help you and you help me," he explained to her. "It will be rare for me to order something that you don't wish to do."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>17-08-2012, 15:11:41</strong>
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				She raised an eyebrow, surprised that he would allow her to use his name. After a moment she shook her head, "I am called Illiam." As he continued to speak she found herself being taken aback by his view. "So you do not mean to have me do menial labors? What, exactly, is it you will be 'asking' of me?" The Drow woman stretched her wings once they were outside of the store, her teeth gritting against the stiffness, "I think that bastard clipped to much." The words were muttered, not intended for her new masters ears. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>18-08-2012, 01:47:40</strong>
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				Demascus smiled. "Illiam," he repeated lightly. He would be certain to remember her name. After all, he would be traveling with her. She seemed very taken aback by his words and actions, though he knew she would be. It wasn't exactly common for a slave to be treated the way she was. He wondered how well she would obey him if he decided to actually take control.<br><br>It was as he had these thoughts that Illiam asked him what he planned to do with her. "Honestly, I haven't decided yet," he told her. "I guess we'll see when I need something, won't we?" While he was speaking, he heard her muttering about her wings. His lycan senses were heightened, so that he could hear more than he should. He knew she wouldn't expect him to hear her.<br><br>"How long until you can fly again?" he asked. "Or if he did cut to much, will you be able to fly again?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>19-08-2012, 15:21:06</strong>
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				She shrugged a little, "I suppose we will just have to see what comes up." The woman started raking her fingers through the tangled mass that served as her hair as they walked. She had not expected him to hear what she said, so it took her a few moments to answer him. Her eyes widened and she stared at him curiously. "How did you hear that?" Again she stretched her wings and shook her head, "I'm not certain. It may take a few weeks before the feathers grow back. Why? Do you intend to allow me to fly again?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>19-08-2012, 19:08:14</strong>
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				Demascus smiled. He knew that she could only see the human in him. Unlike vampires and lycans, Drow weren't known for their sense of smell. The waring races could smell each other across a field if need be. He looked into her eyes. "I'm not all human," he told her. "I have a new strain of the lycan curse. I can hear very well."<br><br>When she showed interest in his words on her wings, Demascus shook his head. "I don't see why I shouldn't let you fly. I mean, if we come into a battle situation your wings could prove very useful," he told her. "Besides that, it would allow you to scout ahead, or cover large distances quickly if I end up injured and need supplies. Your wings are better healed then limited to me."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>22-08-2012, 16:29:51</strong>
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				She raised an eyebrow at him, "You are Lycan? That is interesting." Still she raked her fingers through her hair in an attempt to get the knots out. At least now that she knew how he had heard her. If he had been one of the Vampire bastards that had managed to capture her in the first place she probably would have killed him. <br><br>"You wouldn't be worried that I would try to escape, then?" She scoffed at that. Why should she believe that? No one would give their slave so much freedom as to fly. Unless, of course, he had another way of keeping her compliant. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. "How do you mean to keep me in check, then?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>23-08-2012, 07:44:23</strong>
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				Demascus nodded. "I am a lycan, but please do not compare me to my less evolved brethren. They are a vile brute breed, save a few," he told her. He had never run into a lycan who didn't want him to take part in some vampire hunt. Demascus would have no part in that war. He knew the true cause of it, and he wouldn't take part in the senseless violence beyond simple self-defense.<br><br>When Illiam asked about her possibility to escape, he sighed. "I have no way of stopping you. In all honesty if you wanted to escape so badly, you could leave me while I slept," he told her. "I hope to keep you around by mutual respect. I won't beat you, and I hope we work well together. I hope you respect me enough to help me when I'm in need. Besides, your race is better at night than mine," he added. "But Drow's eyes hurt during the day. Its almost too bright for you to see."
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>25-08-2012, 00:02:56</strong>
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				She listened closely to his words, to his statement of difference between him and the other lycans. It was something she would have to discover for herself with time, if she didn't just leave him. "I suppose that's fair."<br><br>The woman shook her head slightly, "I cannot promise that, as I think you well know. Perhaps if you impress me further before I can fly, I will stay. I must admit that you intrigue me to some extent." Whatever she had been before she was captured, the woman was arrogant and haughty. She seemed the sort that was used to having other people do what she told him and no the other way around.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>29-08-2012, 17:10:45</strong>
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				Demascus didn't know what to say. He couldn't exactly order her to stay. He supposed that he could continually order to clip her own wings so that she was grounded, but he had no idea how to do it himself without causing her to bleed to death. It wouldn't even be beneficial to him to try. It would be far better to earn her trust and loyalty. He had learned from experience that this was the only way to keep someone around. People who used him as a body guard only stayed until they found someone stronger, and people under orders eventually rebelled. This was his only option.<br><br>"As you say, I suppose thats fair," he told Illiam. He then thought of something. "How often do they feed the slaves in that shop?" he asked her.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>30-08-2012, 22:02:31</strong>
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				She frowned at his question and finally stopped messing with her hair. it was better, but still needed a lot of work. "That filthy excuse for a man only fed me once a week, twice if I was lucky. The others were fed 3 or 4 times depending on how good they had behaved." She sneered at the last word and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why are you asking?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>31-08-2012, 05:39:25</strong>
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				Demascus laughed. He hadn't thought how the question might sound to Illiam. Of course it would make her weary of him. She assumed he would try to <em>keep her on her usual diet</em>. Of course the thought appalled him. "I had thought you seemed a little skinny," he told her. "I originally chalked it up to your being Drow. Elves are slender, but you're beyond that," he added.<br><br>Demascus then lay out his supplies in the town center. He then looked at the Celestial that was his for the moment. "Can you start a fire with any form of drow or angelic magic?" he asked her. "It would make it easier to get dinner going," he explained. "I'm assuming you're starving."
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>31-08-2012, 14:21:33</strong>
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				Illiam looked down at herself. Even she had to admit that her clothing fit a bit more loosely then they should have. She even saw a couple of her ribs far more clearly then she should have. Finally she looked back at the man, "I suppose I have lost quite a bit of weight." Though she stated it matter of factly she was clearly displeased by that development. Of course, it seemed that there was little to nothing that would please the Celestial Drow. <br><br>She stopped and watched at he spread out his supplies. His question surprised her a bit but she nodded after a moment, "Yes, I do." Her stomach growled at the thought of eating and she sneered down at it. Finally, though, she lowered herself to her knees, "That is assuming that you have something that would hold the flame." Again she eyed the supplies he had, noting that he really did not have much. "You've come to resupply haven't you?"
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>01-09-2012, 00:59:44</strong>
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				Demascus nodded. "There are plenty of dead branches under that tree," he told her motioning with his head to her left. He then sighed. "I did, but I have enough remaining meat and vegetables for a basic stew," he told her, pulling out his remaining deer meat and a couple jars of chopped vegetation. Not that he ever had anyone to share with, Demascus had learned to be a great cook over his last few years of traveling.<br><br>He walked over to the tree and collected as many of the larger pieces that had fallen before stacking them properly to hold a good fire. He smiled at her. "We can get more supplies for breakfast tomorrow after we eat," he told her while setting up his pot for the food. He emptied the remainder of his jarred vegetables and broke up his meat into the pot. "If you'll get the fire going, we'll be able to before the sun is completely gone from the sky and we won't be holding any shops open longer than they want to. That will prevent any sudden rise in prices.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>05-09-2012, 14:59:12</strong>
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				She followed his gaze to the tree he was trying to indicate and nodded. The woman was just about to stand and walk over herself, but he beat her to it. Illiam watched in silence while he stacked the wood for a moment. When he mentioned fire again, though, her fingers began move and she murmured a few words in her native tongue. With the last word her hand seemed to burst into flame and she immediately laid it on the wood. When the sticks he had gathered finally caught she pulled her hand back. With just a single word the fire that obscured her fingers disappeared , and she was surprisingly unharmed.<br><br>The Drow woman looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, "Will that do?"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>25-09-2012, 22:35:45</strong>
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				Demascus smiled, watching her weave her spell. He wasn't entirely impressed, as he had seen spell work similar to this before, though her fluid movements were entrancing to watch. "That will do very nicely," he told her as he set up his kettle over the fire using a small breakaway stand&nbsp; to hold it. He threw in his ingredients and sighed. "I hope you like it," he told her while waiting for the water to warm in the pot.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>03-10-2012, 14:59:33</strong>
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				The woman watched as he sat the water filled pot over the fire before she looked back up to him. "I'm certain it will be better then the slop I was fed." Of course that wasn't really saying much, but she decided not to add that. The man had likely saved her life from the shop keeper. She'd pushed her luck with him often enough that she had known it would only be a matter of time before he killed her. Luckily she didn't have to worry about that particular fate any longer. <br><br>She looked down at her hands, and then over the rest of herself, she was filthy. Her hair was in better condition, but again that wasn't really saying much. Finally she glanced at him again, "You are nomadic, aren't you?" Judging by the bags and gear that was obvious, but sitting in silence was awkward with him. Illiam didn't know why that was, she had never had trouble staying silent with anyone else. She felt compelled to talk to him though. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>03-10-2012, 20:21:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Demascus was surprised by the question. It had been years since he had last even seen an elf, so he wasn't used to their more formal terms. Of course, many people asked him if he traveled a lot, but they used those terms. He had never thought of himself as a nomad, but he supposed she wasn't off base for suggesting it. "I am," he told her. "I have traveled more the last five years than most people do in their lifetime. And at this time, I would prefer not to speak of why," he added, clearly lost in the past.<br><br>Demascus watched as small bubbles began forming in the pot. It wouldn't be too long before the stew was ready. He definitely liked how quickly dinner could be made with her help, and with her magic they wouldn't freeze in the winter if they were forced to sleep in a cave instead of one of his few safe houses.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>10-10-2012, 13:56:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She nodded to him and then looked around the town that had been her prison for so long. Though she was trapped in the slavers store the entire town had known about her. Not one person had stepped forward to assist her, and she didn't really blame them. Her own people would not have helped someone that was stupid enough to be captured either. Mistakes were not to be forgiven and she would not make another.<br><br>"I suppose I am one as well, then. So long as I'm bound to your service." Her people knew of her capture. She was not so important that they would risk a rescue when there were more important things to attend to. Illiam looked down into the bubbling pot briefly. It had been a long time since she had anything approaching a decent meal, but she would never admit aloud how hungry she actually was. Unfortunately, her stomach betrayed her with a very audible growl.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>10-10-2012, 21:37:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Demascus couldn't help but laugh when he heard Illiam's stomach. "Your body betrays you," he joked as he stirred the stew. "Don't worry, it's almost ready, and then you can eat your fill," he added as he mixed in the final seasonings. Demascus wasn't one to judge anyone else do to his own horror ridden past, but he searched for any signs that Illiam would be less than loyal ti him. Neither drow nor angel had ever told him the full truth throughout his life, and Illiam was both. So far, she was honest enough, he decided.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>15-10-2012, 16:07:31</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				The only change in her expression was to grimace at the sound of her own stomach, otherwise her face remained an emotionless mask and her eyes matched. She would not be a woman to play a betting game with. Illiam simply looks across at him and mummers a thank you. Her eyes finally move back down to the pot and the food within. She was hungry, there was no doubt of that, not after the betrayal her stomach made. "Why do you travel?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>16-10-2012, 04:17:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Demascus grimaced when she asked him of his lifestyle. "Its a long story," he said, though he knew that wouldn't be enough of an answer. "I guess some would say I'm running from my past," he told her, hoping that this would be enough to sate her curiosity. Demascus didn't fully trust Illiam yet, and only three people outside his home town knew of why he never stayed in one place for too long. "What about you?" he asked. "How did someone of your power end up as a slave?"
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Athilea</strong> on <strong>19-10-2012, 16:39:40</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				She shrugged when his answer didn't really answer her question at all. It didn't matter in the end, she doubted that she would be with him for longer then she absolutely had to be. His own question brought a hard stare from her. She brushed some of her hair, which was still partially tangled, behind her ear. Finally, she sighed and responded, "It is not something that I am proud. I was..." Illiam paused, considering what she was going to say, "I was completing a task that had been given to me by my superior, what it was has no bearing on what happened. There was a trap set where I stopped to rest. I was caught like a wild animal." <br><br>The Drow shifted uncomfortably, "Whoever set the trap was expecting to catch someone, or something, powerful. It prevented me from using my powers. They still weren't expecting me, though. They made a good deal from selling me to the slaver. I do not believe he made that back from what you gave him." She looked down at her hands, far thinner then they should have been for her frame. That was the same for the rest of her though. She had not been fed well. "The bastard did not feed me enough. I could not do anything significant when I was out of the cage, though I tried." <br><br>Illiam gestured to the fire she had created, "That is the best I can manage right now. I may not even be able to cast another spell until I've regained some modicum of my strength." Again her eyes turned towards the shop. If looks could kill then the shop would have exploded along with everyone within it. There was no doubt that she intended to return when we was stronger and pay the shop keeper a 'social' visit.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Fresh from the Slave Market</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Demascion Lycan</strong> on <strong>21-10-2012, 23:26:10</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Demascus listened intently as Illiam&nbsp; spoke. Though he was weary of announcing his past mistakes, she wore hers as scarred reminders of what she did wrong. She made no effort to conceal her blunders. He assumed that this was the pride of both her Drow and Angelic heritage. Demascus wondered if he would ever be able to be as open as she appeared to be.<br><br>"I'm sorry for what has been done to you," he told her. He couldn't exactly put into words what he wanted to say, but he hoped that a simple sorry would suffice. He never did like the slave trade, though he understood that many of the slaves became so through the court systems for heinous crimes. Some people, such as his current partner, Illiam, didn't deserve their fate, and many were simply born into it. These were the flaws of the system that he couldn't think of a way to correct himself.<br><br>"I think the stew is ready," he told her with a smile. He pulled out his two bowls and held one out to her. "I suppose one thing I'll have to get is a couple extra bowls so that we can have spares when we don't have a way to wash one from the day before."
			</dd>
		</dl>
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