A Slave No More

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Dragonfyre
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A Slave No More

Post by Dragonfyre » Thu Jul 26, 2018 4:31 pm

It's been a long road. When I arrived on this island, I was but a meek, subservient slave whose only purpose was to please the masters. I had no will of my own. I was nothing, truly, but someone else's property. I wasn't a person, but a thing - or so I had been made to believe.

Now, I am ...different.

It was a slow change, and one which began the day I met the man who was to become the center of my world, in every sense of the word. He was the first person I met on the surface of this island who saw my collar, but looked past it to see me. Most others who I had met at the time took one look at the collar and did one of two things - they either decried me as a spy for the Underdark, or developed a sort of hero-complex, however short-lived, and swore to help in the collar's removal. Of course, nothing ever developed of the latter; they were simply empty promises, perhaps forgotten the moment I was out of sight for all that ever came of them.

With him it was completely different. He made no promises, there were no grand overtures made in any way. He was simply there for me, at a time and place I needed it most, though I knew it not. And what started out as nothing more than a simple business relationship between the two of us quickly developed into something more. What that "more" was, I couldn't have described at the time, as it was something I'd never felt before. All I knew was that I would say or do anything just to be able to spend more time with this man, and that he occupied much of my thoughts during the times we were apart.

I remember there were two things which happened that would alter the course of my life after I met him. One was the first time I heard another call him by an endearment - that the word "sweetie" rolling from the tip of her tongue as she spoke to him sparked in me a sense of outrage that had me completely baffled. Such a simple word, but with so much meaning behind it. And yet, when he stiffened up at her kiss, he looked toward me, and that outrage turned to triumph. No, not triumph buy joy - the first I had ever felt so deeply rooted in myself that it sparked a hunger in me to see that this man, Rann McClow, would play an integral part in my life from that point forward.

The second life-altering "event" I mentioned started off as just a simple conversation, held outside the Nomad. I was still in the mindset that, deep down, I was just someone else's property at this point. I wouldn't (couldn't?) even refer to myself with words like "me" or "myself". Indeed, the concept of my "self" was still something foreign to me - an idea recently born, but not yet solidified in my mind - and so I still called myself "this one" or "she" or even "her" when speaking of myself in conversation.

Rann and I were speaking to one another, with me referring to myself thusly, when from across the street Jadoth piped in. His exact words are lost to me over the years now, but not their meaning or the impact they had on my life. He said something to the point of "Until your mind is free, you never will be." At the time, the meaning of his words simply boggled me. I wasn't actually seeking to have my collar removed. Far from it, I was content with my life as it was. I was a slave, yes, but I was well-cared for and given an extraordinary amount of "freedom" to go about my days as I saw fit. Why would I want anything to change?

Jadoth's words apparently struck home for Rann, though. He began encouraging me to use those forbidden words - me, myself, and I. I found it easy to do such for him when we were alone, and the smiles I received as reward were more than enough cause to keep at it. With others, however, it was harder. I was always left with a feeling, deep in my gut, that what I was doing was wrong and I should stop; a pit in my stomach, the type you get when you know if you're caught, the punishment would be severe. And yet, it didn't stop me. This was something Rann wanted, and I would do whatever I could to make him happy, to give him cause to lavish those treasured smiles upon me.

Hesitantly at first, I began using the words in public. Well, around Cordor, at least. And people noticed. Some simply gave me curious looks and shrugged, but others who had been around me more started noticing a marked change not only in my speech, but in my behavior. As time went by, I noticed things, too. I noticed there are things I like, and things I don't like. Always before, they simply were, but now I was beginning to separate various people, things, and events based on my feelings toward them, not those of whichever master owned me at the time. For the first time in my life, I was allowed, and encouraged, to simply be myself.

And when I slipped up and said "me" in front of Kalyin for the first time, *a large ink blot mars the page here, as if quill sat too long against parchment as the hand guiding it to write simply couldn't find the words*

A lot of things have happened since those days. Too many to mention in one sitting. Perhaps I will write of them all, eventually, if I can find the time. For now, though, I just have a few more things to add.

To Leane Fordragon - Thank you. Thank you for showing me that Rann was much more to me than I let even myself believe at the time. Thank you for remaining so distant from him for so long, and thank you for not putting up a fight to keep him.

To Jadoth Dawnfire - Though you knew it not at the time, those words you said to me changed my life forever. Perhaps I would have gotten to where I am now without them, but it would have been a much different life I've led in recent years had you never uttered them. Thank you, not just for your words, but for everything since you said them.

And to my dearest Rann - You, my love, are the greatest treasure of all. There are not enough words in all the various languages of the world which we inhabit to describe just how much you mean to me. When I'm with you, I feel that not just anything, but everything, is possible. I thank the gods morning, noon, and night for bringing us together, and should this world try to tear us apart, I would see the whole of it burn to ashes.
Last edited by Dragonfyre on Thu Sep 27, 2018 12:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Active character(s): Emelina Selizar - A Slave No More

Others: Shea Webber (Retired and wandering the wilds with her beloved Xellree)

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Re: A Slave No More

Post by Dragonfyre » Sat Jul 28, 2018 7:02 pm

I remember she woke me up in the middle of the night. "Get up, and be quiet about it," she told me, as she shoved a burlap sack into my hands. Through the window, I could see it was still dark outside - not a curiosity in itself, as it was always dark when we arose for work. It was the quiet that caught me off guard, a stillness in the night that belied the fact that even the animals had not yet stirred from their slumber.

I knew better than to ask why we were up so early, so I got dressed as quickly and quietly as I could, while watching with a sort of curious dread as my mother crept to the window to peer outside. When I was done dressing myself, she turned from the window and went to the door, motioning for me to follow as she made a soft shushing sound. She opened the door slowly and stuck her head out to survey the hallway, then turned back to me and gestured me to follow again. The dread I had felt before clawed at my chest and threatened to overwhelm me, but just at that moment, she reached back to grab hold of my hand and led me out of the room.

The hallway was dark, with no windows to let in light from the outside. With one hand clutching the burlap sack and the other being used to pull me along, I trailed behind my mother. When she stopped suddenly in front of me, I couldn't see it. I ran into her, and let out a pained grunt as my forehead collided with the back of her head. She rounded on me and grabbed the back of my head with one hand, quickly slapping her other hand over my mouth. "Quiet!" she gasped softly at me, and held me still as we both held our breath.

Nothing but silence greeted us in those panicked moments, and the relief in her breath as she let it out at last was palpable. She released my head and slid her hand down my arm to grab my hand again, and we were off once more, working our way through hallways and doors until we reached the kitchen. Here, we stopped only long enough to grab a few leftover hunks of the previous day's bread and a few wedges of cheese, which she stuffed into the sack I'd been carrying. Then she led me through the kitchen to the building's back entrance, where she paused to peer out the window to see if the coast was clear.

I still didn't understand quite what was going on, but as I went to ask, she made another shushing sound and opened the door to the outside. Still being led by the hand, she tugged me along behind her toward the master's stables. Out there under the moonlit sky it was easier to see her, and when she turned back to look at me over her shoulder, I saw clearly her blackened eye, bruised and swollen cheek, and broken nose. Panic welled up in me again.

My fear must have shown as clearly as her injuries, as she pulled me against her and started speaking quickly, in hushed tones. Just then, there was a loud thud, followed by clattering sounds back in the house. Then, clear as a bell, the master's voice rang out - "AMARA!!"

Whatever she'd been trying to tell me was cut off as my mother choked at the sound of her own name, bellowed in fury by the man who owned us. More sounds coming from the house alerted us to the fact he was not the only one rising from bed, now. Doors opening and shutting, thudding footsteps as people ran through the halls, and then the slave master's voice called out from within, "The girl is gone, as well!"

In full panic now, my mother flung open the stable doors without regard to the noise they made - a loud creaking as they flew open, followed by two resounding thuds as each of them swung flush against the outer wall of the stable. The sound reverberated through the building and startled the horses, several of them trumpeting in fear and kicking against the walls of their stalls. Heedless of their screams, my mother pushed, pulled, and shoved me toward the far side of the stable, where an unfamiliar voice met us. "Beshaba's teats, you've made a fine mess of it, Amara. How in the Nine am I supposed to get her out of here, now?"

"I don't care how you do it, just DO it!" she hissed in response, then shoved me into this stranger's arms before running back out the way we had come in. I stood there, frozen, unable to move of my own accord as I watched her disappear out the front of the stables. Get who out of here? Me? Why? What was going on? Who is this person she just handed me off to? More and more questions rattling around in my head, and I had no answer for any of them.

The stranger's voice cut through all other sounds as I felt his hands grab at my arms from behind. "I'm not going to pay for your mother's mistakes, child. If you're smart, you'll run as far and as fast as you can. But not with me." Then he released my arms and I felt him draw away. I turned toward the sound of his voice, but he was already gone - out the window I saw him running toward the cornfield, where he vanished from sight.

I was still standing there, watching out that window, when from behind me I heard the slave master say "And just where do you think you're going, little girl?"

The instinct for self-preservation took over in that moment, but not in a way that those who have known freedom might understand. All at once I understood just what had happened. My mother had planned an escape - not for herself, but for me. Only, she hadn't given me any kind of warning; I had no time to react, to consider the implications of what it all meant. For whatever reason, the master had become aware that she wasn't where she was supposed to be. And now the one who was supposed to take me from here had fled in a panic, as well. What choice was there for me, now?

The hand holding onto the burlap sack my mother had given to me went limp and dropped it. My head bowed in subservience, I turned slowly toward his voice and lowered my gaze to the ground. "This one will go where she is told, sir."



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The rest of that day is still all a blur to me. I remember the slave master suggesting I be the one who was kept, but the master refused. My mother was a favorite of his, and he was loathe to part with her for any reason. I, on the other hand, was something of an annoyance to him. Perhaps it was the eyes and the hair, so much like his own, that provoked too many questions for his liking. He was more than happy to get rid of me, and the fact it would also serve as punishment for my mother was just icing on the cake.

He made sure she was there to watch as I was put in chains and hauled onto the wagon. I watched as the caravan leader handed over a small sack of coins with a broad smile on his face, while the master simply waved his hand afterward as if he couldn't be rid of me soon enough. And my mother...

I placed the blame squarely on her shoulders for everything that had happened, and I simply could not bring myself to look at her. Now, I find myself wishing I had taken the opportunity to lay eyes on her one last time. Did she regret it at all, that her actions caused us to be separated? Did she have any clue what sort of life I was in for because of her botched plan? Why had she acted so desperately to see me to freedom, only to shove me off into a stranger's hands - a stranger who then washed those hands of me as he fled, himself?

I doubt I'll ever get any answers to these questions. I was fifteen years old when I was carted away on that slavers' caravan. I was eighteen by the time I was brought to Andunor and sold to Bognar, of the Dwarf-Smasher duergar clan. I'm twenty-two now. Seven years have passed since I last saw my mother.

...does she even still live?
Last edited by Dragonfyre on Sun Jul 14, 2019 8:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
Active character(s): Emelina Selizar - A Slave No More

Others: Shea Webber (Retired and wandering the wilds with her beloved Xellree)

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Dragonfyre
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Re: A Slave No More

Post by Dragonfyre » Wed Aug 08, 2018 4:58 pm

So, those three years it took to get from Melvaunt to Arelith? A lot of things happened, but mostly little things. We travelled from one place to another, then on again to the next destination. Jackson, the caravan leader and slavemaster, would make the local slave market our first priority when arriving at a new city. If there was a slave market, I mean. Not all of the places we visited had them. Some cities we avoided entirely. Some, Jackson had been to before and had been warned to stay away in the future. Others were cities where slavery was illegal.

A couple of the cities we visited our way westward were in the Underdark. It was, of course, a frightening experience, but also helped to prepare me somewhat for what things are like Below. But... well, I'm getting ahead of myself here a bit.

Along our journey, I made a point of making myself useful to the caravan. If there was anything I knew, it was that slaves who held no use to the ones who owned them are sold the quickest, along with slaves who angered their owners. I had no intention of being one of those, so I listened closely to Jackson and the others whenever possible. When I heard them complaining about the food the caravan's cook prepared night after night, it gave me an idea.

One night when it was my turn to be taken from the slave wagon to work on camp duties, I hovered around the cook, Monty, as he was starting to prepare a stew. After bringing out the meat and vegetables he meant to use for the stew, he went back to his wagon to search for something. I used that moment to grab a knife and just started peeling and dicing potatoes then and there. I made quick work of that, then started slicing up the carrots, then the celery, and was just starting in on cutting the salted beef into bite-sized chunks when he returned. He just stood there, staring at me without saying a word. I dipped my head to him, then went back to work on the meat. Then he just walked over with the stewpot and sat it next to me, while watching me closely. "You worked in a kitchen before, girl?"

"This one's mother is house cook to her previous master, sir," I replied to him. He grunted in response, then continued watching me in silence for some time. I went on to wash the cut vegetables, then put them and the meat in the stewpot before adding water and stirring it all together. Then I turned to him and asked where the salt, and other spices, were kept. He simply pointed to his wagon, crossed his arms, and watched me again. I ran to the wagon, looked around until I saw what I needed, then came back to add salt, pepper, and a few dried herbs into the mix before stirring it all together. By this time, two of the other slaves had already gotten a cookfire going, so I carried the stewpot over and hung it from a hook on the spit over the fire.

About an hour or so later as I was stirring the stew over the cookfire, Jackson walked over and asked Monty, "Getting some use out of the merchandise, are you?" Monty just shrugged and told him I started in on the food without being prompted to do so, and that he hadn't had to lift a finger. "Is that so?" Jackson looked over at me then with an appraising look, then walked over to me and held his hand out for the ladle. I complied immediately, handing it over and backing away a couple of steps while he dipped the ladle into the stew then brought it to his lips for a taste.

"Huh. The girl might be worth keeping around for a while," he said as he dropped the ladle back into the stewpot, then walked over to Monty and muttered something to him before slapping his shoulder and walking off.



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After that, Monty would come and get me from the slave wagon when it was time to prepare a meal. Sometimes, whole days would pass where I was out of the wagon, making myself useful around the camp between meals. I helped out wherever I could, whether it was making food, mending holes in tents, tending the horses, washing clothes, or any of a number of other things. All the while, I listened, I learned, and I figured out new ways to entrench myself with the caravan and make Jackson reluctant to sell me. And it worked.

Until we reached Skullport, almost three years later.

It was there where Jackson heard of an order for a slave with a particular set of skills, as well as a knack for learning new things. The offer was simply too good for him to pass up, and so I was led over to the docks and handed over to a new slavemaster - one who immediately measured my neck, then called out something in Undercommon. Moments later, my chin was forced upward and I felt cold metal against my neck for the first time. A metallic clank was heard as the darksteel collar was clamped shut, and I felt the heaviness of the metal as it came to rest around my neck.

"Now, don't you try anything stupid. You won't be able to get that off, and if you try to run, well..." The slavemaster laughed, a cold and hard sound. "Let's just say you wouldn't get very far."

I was then led onto the ship and taken belowdecks where, cramped together with other slaves of a variety of races, I would spend the next... I don't know how long, actually. It was at least several more days, possibly two tendays or more before we pulled out of port. We finally left after the last of the captain's expected "orders" were delivered to the ship. After that, well... we slaves were given just enough food to survive on the voyage - but only barely. Perhaps it was only a couple of tendays, or perhaps it was a month or more. When the ship finally pulled into dock in Andunor, I was almost skin and bones. I knew no one in this strange new place, and as I stepped off the ship, for the first time in my life I was truly terrified.

I remember staring up at the Deep Gate when I got near it. I was awestruck by the sheer size of the doors, themselves. They're massive, and taller than most buildings I had ever been in previously. And yet, when they swung open, they were almost silent - eerily so. My mind was still boggling over how something so huge could be so quiet when I heard a rough voice call out in front of me, though the meaning of the words in an as-yet unknown language were completely lost on me. I quickly stepped toward the speaker - a dark-skinned dwarf, or duergar, I was soon to learn. I'd never met one of them before but I would become intimately familiar with this one.

"I said yer a scrawny one, ain'tcha?" he repeated himself in the common trade tongue of the surface. "Ye got a name, slave?"

I lowered my gaze to the ground just in front of his feet and gave the tiniest of nods. "This one's mother called her Emelina, master dwarf."

"DWARF?!" The outrage was clear in his voice, then he went quiet suddenly. After a few moments, he spoke again, his words clipped and measured, with a dangerous undertone. "That's yer one time ye'll ever call me that blasted word, girl. I ain't one o' them traitorous wretches ye might've met up on the surface. Ye won't find any dwarves down here. Me and my kin, we're duergar, and ye won't be forgettin' it any time soon, aye?"

"Yes sir, master duergar. This one will remember."

"Damn right ye will!" he said, then spit on the ground as he studied me. "Ye ain't exactly what I was expectin'. Puny thing like yerself, I could squish ye like a bug."

"Aye, master duergar, sir," I responded meekly. He grunted and took a few steps toward me, then let out a loud laugh.

"That's what I'll call ye, then. Bug." He looked me over some more as he continued to speak, and dug out a bit of parchment which he began writing on. "Just 'master' will do fine, Bug. Name's Bognar, but ye ain't ever to call me that, obviously. Now, I'm gonna give ye this claim notice here," he said as he finished writing, "and if anyone messes with ye, yer to show 'em the notice and tell 'em ye already got a master. It'll take a few cycles to process the paperwork with the slavemaster, and during that time I expect ye to get yerself familiar with Andunor, got it?"

And so it was that I met my new master, here in this strange new place that was to become my home for the next few years. Bognar of clan Dwarf-Smasher was not a kind or gentle master, but a fair one - most of the time. I was provided a place to sleep, and food plenty and often enough to make sure my body filled out again to where it should be. A malnourished slave is a useless slave, after all, and he had no intention of letting me be useless. Far from it, in fact. Over the following months, he even made sure I was provided with equipment suitable for the skills he expected me to train in. He even forged the weapons I still carry with me to this day - a set of masterfully crafted twin kukris, forged from damask, with hilts wrapped in dragonhide and etched with runes in the dwarven tongue which read "Blood" and "Profit"; "Blood and Profit" was the motto of the Dwarf-Smasher clan.

Along with all of that, he also provided me with a small library of various language phrasebooks, which he told me I would learn "or else". The first one he had me study was Undercommon, which I had mastered in a matter of tendays. It wasn't hard to get immersed in the language, as everyone in Andunor speaks the tongue regularly, and often. Learning the Dwarven tongue was a bit harder, as I was really only exposed to how it should be spoken when alone with Bognar, or within the Dwarf-Smasher clanhold in the Sharps district. He started growing frustrated when I didn't learn the language of his people as fast as I did Undercommon, and when I made mistakes in speaking it, he would hit me. Hard. At first, he'd hit my head - counterintuitive to learning, I know. I guess he realized that because, after a while, he switched to gut-punching me whenever I misspoke. At least that didn't leave me reeling and dazed like the blows to my head, but... still, they weren't light hits. I had a few bruised and broken ribs by the time I handed the Dwarven phrasebook back to him when I no longer needed it.

After I'd mastered the Dwarven tongue, things got a little easier. After I learned how to start picking locks and dismantling traps - the skills Bognar most wanted me to learn - they became much easier. So long as I performed my duties both in the clanhold and on trips outside of Andunor to Bognar's satisfaction, life for me was... if not "easy", then at least less stressful. He started taking me out to more and more dangerous areas, and when he realized my lock-picking skills were becoming more advanced, he regularly took me out on hunts to kill storm giants with a drow female named Saslae, or to Red Dragon Island with another drow, Kalyin…

"Sassy", as he called the first drow, still calls me Bug to this day, despite Bognar having been gone for years now. I think the name still amuses her, but her use of it may be more habit now than anything.

Kalyin never called me Bug. He never really called me by any name for quite a while, refering to me instead as "child" - not an endearment, simply a reference to my age. He was never cruel to me, like most others of his race tended to be. Perhaps that's why I grew fascinated with him, and looked forward to seeing him again after our trips together - a fact that wasn't lost on Bognar, or even to Kalyin himself.



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All during this time, I started seeing less and less of the other members of the Dwarf-Smasher clan. For some reason or another that I still don't know, they simply started leaving Andunor - presumably for the mainland, but for most of them, I couldn't honestly say. Then, one day, Bognar told me to follow him. He led me through the slave pits, and into the auction house. As we entered, I noticed Kalyin was inside. Bognar led me over to the auction pit and pushed me to go down the steps into it. I didn't understand what was going on, but I did as I was bid. He then went over and spoke to Andunor's slavemaster, and a moment later called Kalyin over, who spoke with the slavemaster as well. It didn't take long, perhaps five minutes or so. When they were done speaking with the slavemaster, they both turned toward the auction pit and motioned for me to come back out of it.

"Ye belong to the snake now, Bug." Seven words that changed so much. Over time, I'd grown accustomed to Bognar and all his little quirks. While not exactly fond of him, I'd grown to... respect him, perhaps? We even joked around a bit, in private, when he was in a good mood. So when he announced, just like that, that I belonged to Kalyin now, it threw me for a loop in a couple of ways. One, that he would just sell me off like that was... a shock, I suppose. I'd turned out to be everything he had come to expect, and more, with all the training I'd undergone at his command. Why he would simply sell me off was completely lost on me, until he turned to Kalyin and said he was leaving Andunor for good.

When he said that, my stomach did a little flip. He had been the one constant since I had arrived, and though he wasn't always a kind master, he had always made sure I was taken care of. Now, I watched as he walked out of Andunor, and out of my life for good...

The second loop I was thrown for? He was leaving me with Kalyin, a fact that made my heart race - not with fear, but with excitement. As I said before, I'd become fascinated with the drow. Infatuated even, by this point in time. And when he turned to me with those silver eyes of his for the first time after my purchase, the smile he gave me was.... disarming. And his voice when he spoke - sweet and warm as honey. "What is your name, child?"

"This one's name is Bug, master."

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, reaching over to tuck his fingers under my chin and lift my gaze to his face. "Your name. Not what Bognar called you."

I blinked and actually had to stop and think for a moment. It had been almost two years at this point since I had even said my own name. "...E-Emelina, master."

"Well then, Emelina," he said, with that same sweet, honeyed tone, "...shall we go home?" I swallowed, hard, then simply nodded. As we left the auction house that day, I never expected to return there again. And indeed, I didn't return until years later. Between the two trips, my life would change drastically, in ways that I never would have dared to imagine back then. But... well, that's getting ahead of the tale. Needless to say, my life was forever changed the day Kalyin's name was placed on my collar.
Last edited by Dragonfyre on Sun Jul 14, 2019 9:09 am, edited 1 time in total.
Active character(s): Emelina Selizar - A Slave No More

Others: Shea Webber (Retired and wandering the wilds with her beloved Xellree)

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Dragonfyre
Posts: 89
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Re: A Slave No More

Post by Dragonfyre » Thu Aug 16, 2018 11:12 pm

Over the next few days, I was allowed time to retrieve what few belongings I had from the Dwarf-Smasher clanhold, and bring them over from the Sharps to the mansion in the Devil's Table where Qu'ellar Xar'zith - the House which Kalyin belonged to - lived. All but the altar Bognar had commissioned for me, that is. That went to the house Kalyin's twin sister, Idil'vas, owned. My former master and his clan had left a lot of things behind, the vast majority of which was both raw and smelted ingots of various types of metals. There wasn't room in storage in either Idil'vas' or Qu'ellar Xar'zith's buildings to hold it all, so I left a lot of it where it was, for the time being.

While I'd been moving things over from the abandoned clanhold to the drow houses, I came upon two message boards that served as a sort of historical archive. A lot of the documents on the boards were about Cordor, a city I had only been to one time before, and very briefly. A thought occurred to me suddenly - that should I take these records up to where they seemingly belonged, it might help me curry favor with those who called that city home. And so I carefully took the archives, then made my way to the Hub portal. From there, I rode the leylines to arrive to the north of Cordor, along the trade route between that city and the Arcane Tower, then worked my way to the south.

I was almost to the city gates when I spotted a vaguely familiar face - that of a half-orc guard named Augustin Dish. He was speaking with someone just outside the Nomad, and I stopped a short distance away from them to await a lull in their conversation before calling attention to myself. I explained to Corporal Dish what I had found and brought from Below, then brought out the archives and stepped back to let the two of them look over the information they contained. When they were done perusing the archives, they spoke with one another about moving them to the museum before Corporal Dish turned his attention back to me. "You have the gratitude of Cordor for returning these to us. What is your name?"

"This one is called Emelina, sir," I responded to the question with a subtle bow.

"And your surname?" he asked.

"...this one has no surname - or at least not one she was ever told."

"Who ordered you to bring these records to Cordor?" His eyes settled on my collar as he asked the question. I never hid it, whether I was Above or Below, and this was just one of many examples of how the darksteel slave collar would make people both wary of me, and assumptive of the motives behind my actions.

"This one was not ordered to do so. She found them while clearing out her former master's quarter, as he has left the island, and..." I paused to give a little shrug. "This one just thought to return them to where they belong, is all."

Corporal Dish studied me for a few moments then, weighing my words carefully. Eventually, he just gave a nod and motioned for the woman he'd been speaking with earlier to help him carry the archive boards. At that point, I volunteered to help carry them - an offer which was accepted - and we made our way to the museum, eventually storing them on the upper floor until a more suitable place could be found for them. Corporal Dish and the woman thanked me again, then he had her write a note of how the archives came to be there, which she left pinned to the museum's message board for the curator to see.



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After that day, I felt a little more confident in travelling to the main city on the surface of the island. I didn't journey there often - maybe once every tenday or two - and my trips tended to be short. I was surprised to see a few familiar faces from Below walking about Cordor. Mostly, it was Sorth (whose surname has become lost to me) and Alissa Duvain - they seemed to frequent Cordor quite a bit, and were often found in the Nomad - but I also recall a particular half-orc from Andunor paying me far too much attention for my liking. Whenever he saw me in Cordor, he made a point of following me around, watching my every move. His presence made me uncomfortable, so I did my best to avoid him in particular.

For one of these trips, I had decided to finally do something about all the metals the Dwarf-Smashers had left behind. The last holdover of the clan, Rugnar - Bognar's brother - hadn't been seen in some time, so I assumed he had finally left, as well. I was the last "member" of the Dwarf-Smasher clan after that; the only one remaining who still had access to the clanhold and all that had been left behind by the duergars I once served. So it was that I decided to go into the clanhold and empty the storage of the last of the ingots and ores that had been left behind; I then lensed up to the surface to make my slow, overburdened journey to Cordor to sell them off.

I was nearing the city's gates when I paused for a moment to drop my pack and take a breather between the Commons and Furth's. Someone who had seen me struggling with the weight of what I was carrying paused to ask if I needed help. I told them that I was simply looking for a place to sell off the ores and metals I was carrying. As I said that, another man seemed to take a keen interest in me, as he walked over. "What kind of metal and ores?" he asked.

I turned to the newcomer and bobbed my head to him. "This one is carrying many types of ingots and ores. Copper, iron, gold, silver, lead.." I kept on listing them until I'd named them all, though I noted his interested piqued even more so when the lead was named.

"And how much are you selling them for?" he asked me.

I paused for a moment, and my uncertainty must have been clearly written on my face. I'd never taken the time to learn the value of metals, whether they be in raw or smelted form, so his question caught me off guard. "...what kind of offer would you make for them?" I asked afterward.

I don't remember the final price that was settled upon, and in hindsight later I realized he got the far better end of the deal. Still, there was something about him that intrigued me. What it was, I couldn't say. So when he asked if I could supply more of the metals he bought from me that day, I told him I could, and that when I returned to Cordor again, I would seek him out. I just needed to know his name, so I could find him again.

He gave me a charming - and disarming - smile. "Rann McClow, travelling merchant and master alchemist. Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name as well?"

"This one is called Emelina," I told him, with the barest hint of a smile of my own offered in return. A few more words were said back and forth, then we parted ways. He struggled with the weight of the metals he had purchased from me as he made his way into the Commons, and I went on to sell the remainder of the metals where, and to whom, I could before making the return trip back down to Andunor.



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Over the next month or so, my trips to Cordor became more and more frequent. Instead of a few hours here and there, I would sometimes spend days in the city before reluctantly returning to the Underdark. Elections came and went in both cities, with Augustin Dish becoming the new Chancellor of Cordor, and Ezra Murann winning his second consecutive bid for the Sharps district in Andunor. There was political turmoil Below when two out of three of the Devil's Table district's councilors conspired to make it a vassal to the Sharps. Then, seemingly only a few tendays after he won his second election, the SUPREME SULTAN of the SHARPS DISTRICT (emphasis his) just seemed to fade into the background; soon enough he was no longer seen at all, leaving Vance Gravelle to hold the reins of power in his absence.

There had been changes in the House Kalyin belonged to, as well. It was no longer Qu'ellar Xar'zith - Narcelia, the matron of the house and mother to Kalyin and Idil'vas, had been murdered, which in itself caused a lot of chaos within the Devil's Table and Andunor as a whole. Another stepped in to take her place, Alvalas, and the House continued on under the name of Azz'anir for a while. Under her command, it became a Lolthite house. Living there under those conditions was not exactly a pleasant experience, so most of the time I spent my nights sleeping under Kalyin's bed in Idil'vas' house.

Yes, under the bed. Sometimes I would wake up, and the Pit would be coiled around me, using me as they might a sun-kissed boulder on the surface - a source of heat to keep themselves warm as they slumbered as well. It's an odd sensation, being wrapped up in snakes as they slither over and coil around you. You concentrate on making no sudden moves and making sure you breathe even, shallow breaths so as not to startle them. One wrong move, and I knew any one of them - all of them? - would lash out with fang and venom before I could react. But it never happened. Perhaps they sensed I wasn't a threat to Kalyin/Golden Cobra, through that mystical, curious bond they shared with him. Or maybe because I was so often in their company while travelling with Kalyin or simply near him so often, they came to view me as one of their own. I don't know.

Then there were the handful of times that I slept in a bed. The first time was around the time of the first of Doctor Death's plagues hitting Cordor - or at least the first I know of. The Winter's Rest clinic had dubbed it the Renor Blight, or something to that effect. I've seen the "Renor" part of it spelled so many different ways, I'm not sure which is the right one. Up in Cordor, I had volunteered my services as a master herbalist to help the clinic out however I was able. Not much came of that, for the most part, but the offer still stood, regardless. I'd been spending most of my time in the city with Rann by then, and was starting to think of it as home. I wanted to do whatever I could not only to boost my own reputation in the city (despite my collar), but to actually fit in and belong.

Then came a message from Kalyin - the plague had reached Andunor, and he was warning me to stay away... yet also asking for help. Pleading. Someone close to him had been infected, and he was doing everything he could to try and save them - with no regard for his own health. I think he hoped that his connection with nature would keep him from being affected by the sickness. Maybe that's why he never contracted it in all the time he spent taking care of Vance while he was ill. I don't think I'll ever know the answer to that.

I remember being torn in two directions when I received that message, though. Kalyin and I had grown close. I don't think our relationship was ever really about master and slave, in retrospect. He had bought me to protect me from other, harsher, would-be masters. My collar had stopped being a symbol of bondage and servitude and had instead become a shield - a symbol of his protectiveness over me. My starry-eyed infatuation with him had simmered down and settled into a more familial bond - I no longer desired him as one might a lover, but came to see him more as a friend, or brother. Or perhaps, more accurately, as a father figure - something I had never had before in my life.

Vance, on the other hand, I despised. I was a devout of the Lord of Shadows from my earliest days in Andunor - in fact, the altar Bognar had commissioned for me from Idil'vas was consecrated in His name. Vance, being a divine servant of Cyric, was my enemy. And yet, because of his relationship with Kalyin, I did nothing against him. I knew that if something happened to Vance, it would affect Kalyin deeply, perhaps down to his core, and I hated the man for it. I hated the way his smile was so disarming, even I felt a pull toward him which made me want to get to know him better. Most of all, I despised him for just how much of a hold he had over the drow who had become my friend, my father, my protector, and my savior.

When Kalyin summoned me to his chambers in the Sorcere and asked me to seek out what information I could that would help curb the advance of the sickness Vance was wracked with, I was taken aback. The drow I loved so dearly was asking me to help him save the man I wanted most to tear him away from. I wanted nothing more but to stare down at Vance as he lay in his sickbed and just ...laugh. Mock him. Indulge in the sweet, sweet destruction of the man's body as the plague ravaged and tore at him as he laid there, helpless in bed.

It was the panic in his eyes, and the pleading tone in his voice that decided it for me. For as much torment I saw in him knowing that Vance was sick - perhaps dying there in the bed - I knew that if the man were to actually die, it would shatter my precious Golden Cobra into a million pieces and more. And so I returned to Cordor, to the Winter's Rest clinic, to offer my services to them once more - this time with an ulterior motive. I didn't want to save Vance. I wanted to save Kalyin.

I don't know if it was mere coincidence, or if - for some reason - Tymora took pity on me and smiled, for shortly after I arrived outside the clinic to "volunteer" again, someone came out to announce that a cure had been found. Missives were being sent out to be tacked up on message boards across the island detailing the methods used to cure the plague in its various stages. At that moment, I was overcome with conflicting emotions - overwhelming joy that a cure had been found at last clashed violently with self-loathing and resentment that I would be the one to bring the cure to Andunor and save the life of Vance Gravelle.

I was given three copies of the cure missive. Amadeo asked me to help him spread the word - and in the next sentence asked me to come and speak with him sometime about what, exactly, was the nature of my relationship with Kalyin. I remember telling him I looked forward to such a conversation, then parting ways with him to go and see the message about the cure was spread. The first two of my copies went to message boards in and just outside of Cordor. Then I stopped just long enough to send a message to Kalyin - "She has the cure, and is awaiting your summon."

It didn't take long for said message to be delivered, for within moments I felt his pull as he reached out through the leylines to call me to his side. A blink of the eye later, and I was once again within his chambers in the Sorcere and handing the missive over to him. He stopped only long enough to read it, and as I watched his expression changed from desperation to conveying that first spark of hope; then hope turned to triumph as he turned toward Vance and the group of healers surrounding his bed. I felt my own elation begin to soar. Not because Vance would live - quite contrary to that, in fact. It was because Kalyin would be spared the pain of losing this man - his lover and confidante - despite the hatred and contempt I felt toward the priest.

I stayed there and watched as those gathered around Vance began to work at the cure. Helen, the Ul'Faeress of the Sorcere (it hadn't been changed into the Erudite Arcanum, yet) was there. Saslae was as well. Idil'vas was there, watching over the room and its inhabitants. There was a priestess as well. Ilphaeryll? Valryne? Maybe both... or I could simply be superimposing them over someone else in my memories, I'm not sure. Whatever the case may be, they worked tirelessly for some time, this gathering of healers, leaders, and warriors, to drive the plague from Vance's body. I don't remember how long it took. I just remember the look of ecstatic relief on Kalyin's face when it was pronounced his lover had, indeed, been cured.

The room grew quiet afterward, and everyone began to leave so Kalyin and Vance could be alone together. After having spent seemingly endless days going without sleep, my feet dragging every step of the way, I made my way to Coran'zen's forge. Coran'zen, himself, served as a type of father figure for Kalyin - and as I got to know the aged drow, I came to view him almost as a grandfather, myself. I always felt safe and welcome within his rooms. We had had a few conversations between the two of us, alone, and he bade me to return to his place whenever I needed to take time for myself. He even allowed me to move my altar to the Lord of Shadows into his chambers.

It was to that altar I went after Vance was cured. I fell to my knees in silent prayer, begging forgiveness for my part in saving the life of a holy servant of my Lord's most hated enemy. Hours and hours I spent there, wracked with guilt, and already overcome with regret for what I did. I don't remember falling asleep at the altar. What I do remember is feeling arms wrap around me to pick me up and carry me over to Coran'zen's bed. My eyes peeked open for the briefest of moments as I was laid down. It was Kalyin, smiling down at me with a look of pure and honest gratitude, mixed with a fondness he showed to me only in times we shared in privacy. My eyelids, burdened with the weight of my exhaustion, slid closed again.

Then I felt the tender brush of Kalyin's lips upon my forehead as I drifted off to sleep once more. A soft murmur accompanied the kiss as he voiced his thanks to me and called me by my secret name, known only to him and to me - Vynessia. It means "Butterfly" in the old high illithyri tongue. I was no longer a Bug to be squished or tread upon, but transformed into a creature of beauty to be treasured before spreading my wings and learning to fly.



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I look back at that day now, years later, and can't help but wonder how different things might be had I withheld the cure. Maybe someone else would have delivered it instead, and I would be spared of the guilt and loathing I feel for myself in knowing it was through my own actions that Vance Gravelle still walks this island. How many lives would have been saved if he had been allowed to simply wither away and die? How much more pain would Kalyin have been spared when Vance spurned him for another lover?

I find myself with more questions than answers these days - answers which I will never know. It's all in the past and can't be changed now, no matter how much I might wish otherwise.

Regret is such a useless emotion. It's a powerlessness felt when you realize you can't do anything about your own actions, despite how desperately you want to. It serves no other purpose but as a reminder of your own flaws and failures, and to make you feel bitter about your own past.

I have a lot of regrets, these days.
Last edited by Dragonfyre on Sun Jul 14, 2019 9:30 am, edited 5 times in total.
Active character(s): Emelina Selizar - A Slave No More

Others: Shea Webber (Retired and wandering the wilds with her beloved Xellree)

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Re: A Slave No More

Post by Dragonfyre » Sun Aug 19, 2018 4:37 pm

I've met a lot of people during my time on this island. I've travelled alongside persons of various character and vastly different moral compasses. I've been a travelling companion to drow, elf, human, dwarf, duergar, hin, and so on; clergy and lay worshipers of varying faiths like Kossuth, Tyr, Chauntea, Mystra, and ...yes, even Cyric. Very few have I ever considered to be more than just acquaintances at best.

I have a very small "family" I've pieced together. Rann - my lover, my partner... my world. Kazen, the brother I never knew I needed, who found me just when I needed him most. Silacaladhiel - once a rival, and now... closer to a sister. Kalyin, the only "father" I've ever known. Coran'zen, my "grandfather", who I most likely will never see again. I still have mixed feelings about my mother, Amara. Do I include her in the family I've listed here? The family I've chosen for myself? No, I don't. I can't. I still find myself unable to forgive her.

My list of people I consider to be friends is even shorter. I can count them all on one hand and still have fingers left over. There are others I feel are on the cusp between acquaintance and friend, but it will take more time and effort getting to know them a bit better before I'll allow myself to open up more fully to them. Amadeo. Elliara. Lilah. Alexa. Kaeledin. Petra. I don't give these people my full trust yet, and for some of them that may never happen. Some are closer to friend than acquaintance, or they've earned my trust due to various reasons, but I still hold them at arm's length for now. Nicodemus San-Lanargaith. Brugga Stonehelm. Shanna and Duncan Waynolt. Edward Silverarms. Obviously, I'm not going to name everyone I've met, what I feel about them, and whether or not I trust them; there's a lot of them being left out here, though I might write about some of them later. There are also some that I just outright cannot stand, and would rather not have their names mar these pages.

Then there are a few I know I will never trust, but still find their company to be agreeable at times, if not enjoyable. Take Saslae for instance. She's a drow, as I mentioned once before, and once a travelling companion of my former master, Bognar. The three of us would journey to the Needle to fight storm giants together. They mostly took me along to deal with traps and locks, but my skill with the twin kukris Bognar forged for me also came in handy. I was useful to them, and when Saslae learned of my ability to make abeyant templates, she became useful for lining my pockets with coin. I've never considered her a friend, and never really trusted her, but there's always been a sort of unspoken ...respect is the wrong word. It's more of a mutual understanding. We can be useful to each other, under the right circumstances. That was the extent of our relationship, while I still wore the collar. Now that the collar is gone, and I live on the surface, I'm fairly sure that our unusual relationship has likely come to an end.

One might suspect that as a slave in Andunor, I would have made friends - or at least formed relationships of some kind - with other slaves who lived there. Those who think that are mistaken, however. Perhaps the closest I ever came to having a relationship of any sort with another slave during my time Below was when Rugnar, Bognar's brother, purchased his own slave, Rain. He was human, like me, and we were owned by brothers. Our masters even spoke about possibly "breeding" us once, to our mutual horror. After hearing that, I went out of my way to avoid being around Rain, barring the few times we were brought along on trips by our masters.

There were other slaves I got to know a bit, but never fostered a relationship of any kind with them. Kage, who belonged to Invrae. Mialee, an elven woman Kalyin owned for a little while, then sold to another. Pea, who was Vance's loyal lapdog for a time. Shenn, a hin lass who was collared and purchased by Idil'vas. Those are the names that stick out the most. There were others, of course - some I even saw during my trips to Cordor.

And then, there was Jasper Highfen...

*a few small blotches of ink trail along after the ellipses; drops fallen from the tip of a quill as the writer paused, pondering on her next words*

I'm not sure which is the darker stain on my soul - my actions that resulted in Vance's life being saved, or my actions that helped lead to Jasper being collared and forced into slavery.

My collar still bore Bognar's name during that fateful night when Jasper was captured. Bognar had been invited along on a surface "jaunt" by... I'm not sure if it was Saslae or the kobold whose full name I could never quite remember. Most simply called her Tzu. If memory serves correct, I think there were two other kobolds who came along as well, but their names are lost to me over the chasm of time.

We journeyed up to the surface through the stinger caves, which led out into some old mine shafts, the entry/exit of which is no more than a stone's throw away from the drawbridge of Darrowdeep Castle. Darkfall Night had already come, so our eyes didn't have to adjust much when we exited the mine. I remember Saslae speaking about how, seemingly, every time she visited the surface lately, she always seemed to run into "Jasper", a name I was unfamiliar with at the time.

And sure enough, before too long - and before we had moved far from the mine entrance - I heard a hiss come from Tzu, followed by that name, Jasper. Bognar ordered me to the shadows, and so I hid and crept along behind him, never straying far from my master's side. As a group, we approached the hin, though Bognar stayed back and to the side; I stayed close enough to hear any orders he might give me in hushed tones.

In the meantime, the others had begun a conversation with Jasper - if tossing around thinly veiled insults and insinuating threats to one another can truly be called a conversation. The three kobolds spoke among themselves during this time, reverting to the draconic tongue as they did so. I'd recently mastered the language, and so I understood that their intent was to capture the hin.

Mind you, during this time I was still very much a loyal and obedient slave, in every sense of the word. My perception of slavery at the time was that it was a natural thing that served a valid purpose in society. Those born to the collar, while unlucky with their lot in life, were born simply to serve. Those who were forced into servitude later deserved it, either due to their own actions or simply because they needed to be taught a lesson.

So it was that when Bognar ordered me to position myself behind the hin and prepare to take action, I did so without hesitation. "Strike the fool down, if he raises a hand against Tzu," were my orders. My blades were out as I crept up behind Jasper - then I simply hovered there, crouching low as I studied his back in preparation.

The words being tossed back and forth between Jasper and Tzu became more heated. Angry. And then it happened. Jasper went to strike Tzu, and as his blow connected, I leapt into action. My blades slid home into his back, just below his ribcage - one each into his kidneys - a calculated move meant to cripple the hin and lay him low. The two kobolds at Tzu's side unleashed attacks at the same time, one with a blade and the other with spells. I twisted and pulled my kukris to either side; they sliced through flesh until they tore their way to freedom. Jasper fell to the ground before me, and I watched as he drew his last breath. It was over almost before it had begun.

It was the first time I had killed someone. And I felt... nothing. I had simply followed orders, and my master was pleased. I cleaned the hin's blood from my blades and sheathed them at my hips, then returned to Bognar's side. "Well done, Bug," he told me. "Well done."


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A cycle - or day - went by before I saw the hin again. I went to the Hub to restock on healing supplies and water, when from the corner of my eye I saw Tzu and, trailing along behind her - Jasper. He wore a collar with her name etched into it now, and only then did I feel a slight pang of guilt. I knew I had helped put that collar on him by participating in killing him. Still, I rationalized that he must have done something to deserve it, then I shrugged and moved on to my errands.

I never interacted with him while he was a slave. I'm not even sure how long he wore the collar. I just know that, eventually, it was removed and he returned to his life on the surface.

It was much later, after Kalyin had taken me as his own, that I came to understand Jasper was a close friend of Jadoth's. After the conversation outside the Nomad, where Jadoth said in order to truly be free, I had to free my mind. After Rann had begun tirelessly working with me in order to help me do just that.

By the time I realized just how badly I had wronged Jasper, it was too late. I wanted to go to him, to apologize and tell him how much I wanted to take back my actions that night. To have resisted, and disobeyed Bognar's order. To ask him what I could possibly do in order to make up for what I did. I learned he had already left the island, and in all likelihood, would not be returning.

Since that time, the guilt of what I did has been slowly eating away at me. I want to go to Jadoth and tell him about it, but every time I think of doing so, I turn coward and keep my silence. He would hate me for it, I know. I don't want that. I like him, and he set me on the road to true freedom that day outside the Nomad with the words he spoke.

I want to go to Bendir and tell them what I did, as well. Just tell my story to them, and see if there's any way I can make amends to the community of hins there for what I did to one of their kin. But again, every time I think of doing so, I turn coward. I know my reputation there, tremulous as it already is as a former slave, would suffer a devastating blow - as would Rann's by extension, I think. And that's something I simply cannot have happen.

So what am I to do, then? Keep my silence and let the guilt eat away at me? I've told Rann already, and though it did help ease my conscience a bit, it's not enough. What I did to Jasper had no effect on Rann's life whatsoever; he wasn't wronged in any way by what I did. I asked him, once, what I should do. He rightly told me that it's something I have to figure out for myself.

Maybe that's why I'm sitting here writing about it now. It's a chance to get my thoughts and feelings about it put to ink and parchment, perchance to someday be read by those who were affected by what I did. Perhaps it would be easier for me to simply hand over the written story to them, and to await whatever judgement they deem fit afterward. It seems to me it would be much easier to do that than to try to muster the courage to speak of the events.
Last edited by Dragonfyre on Tue Aug 28, 2018 8:00 am, edited 1 time in total.
Active character(s): Emelina Selizar - A Slave No More

Others: Shea Webber (Retired and wandering the wilds with her beloved Xellree)

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Re: A Slave No More

Post by Dragonfyre » Sat Aug 25, 2018 9:00 pm

My regrets - and I have more than the few I've written of here - haunt me. Taunt me. They try to pull me back down into the darkness, there to wallow in self-pity and loathing. It's during these times I cling the tightest to the lifelines of belonging and hope that I've slowly built up around me. My relationship with Rann is the strongest of these, obviously, but it's not the only thing that keeps me anchored to this new life I've built.

There are two people I've met in my time on the surface who, while still largely unknown to me, make me feel that the struggles I face are worth every bit of effort I make to keep trying. I met them both during one of my trips to the surface as I was seeking out the places where King's Crown plants grow.

I was making my way through the gnoll encampment in the northeast corner of Arelith Forest. I'd become skilled enough in my training to be able to face the entire camp alone - well, if you don't count my shadow, Lina, that is. I'd already made it past the two bridges and had just finished searching through the chest and weapon rack near the tent at the far side of the second bridge when I noticed a group approaching. A heavily-armored human, an elf obviously familiar with woodland ways, and with them were a water elemental I was soon to find out was a druid, and his spider companions.

The spiders put me on a wary footing immediately; as the slave of a drow, I'd learned they are often used as Lolth's "eyes" and, well... The last thing I wanted was to draw that one's attention.

I wasn't hiding when the group came into view, and rather than draw their suspicion by calling on the shadows to conceal me from their sight, I remained as I was as they drew closer. They stopped some distance from me. One of them - the elf, if I recall correctly - had taken note of my collar from afar, and pointed it out to the others. They spoke amongst themselves for a moment or two before approaching me.

I was asked a series of questions - my name, what I was doing on the surface, and if I was alone or not, among others. I did my best to seem friendly enough without making it seem as though I was trying to butter up to them. When I told them I had simply come to harvest flowers from the King's Crown plant, they spoke amongst themselves for a moment again before returning their attention to me. The elf introduced himself a Nicodemus. The human, I learned, was a paladin called Edward Silverarms - though he preferred to be called Ned. If the druid's name was ever mentioned, I don't recall it. I gave my name in return, and a few moments later we began working toward the far end of the gnoll encampment together.

It didn't take long for us to reach the far side, and within moments the last of the camp's defenders had been defeated. Out of habit, I stepped over and unlocked the weapon rack settled at the base of the cliff behind the altar, then I stepped back for the others to rummage through its contents. For the time, I simply listened to them talk, only speaking if I was spoken to directly.

I remember being spoken about more than I was spoken to, but it didn't bother me. In fact, that was normal in my experience as a slave, so I didn't really think anything of it. I do recall Nicodemus mentioning to the druid that he'd met my master before, and I gathered that due to the collar bearing Kalyin's name, the elf's suspicions of me were heightened. I'd been around Kalyin for long enough to be able to suss out the meaning of the sounds and inflections made by those who spoke in the tongue of Nature to be able to follow a conversation being spoken in that language. When I blurted out "You know this one's master?" on impulse, all three of them turned to regard me with surprise.

Instead of answering the question, Nicodemus reminded me that I still hadn't harvested the flowers I had come in search of. I had actually become so curious about this group that I'd momentarily forgotten about the King's Crown entirely. When it was mentioned, I moved over to the plant and, as carefully as I could, I gently plucked the blossoms and stowed them away in a box I kept for such a purpose in my pack.

Once that was done, I returned to the group to hear that the druid-elemental would be returning to the Heartwood Grove. Nicodemus and Edward were going to patrol the forest a while longer and invited me along. As we all left the gnoll encampment, the druid-elemental broke off to the south and east, the spiders trailing along behind. The rest of us kept along the southwestern route heading toward the heart of the forest. As we walked along, Nicodemus and Edward began talking about slaves and slavery in general. The human apparently hadn't met many (any?) slaves previously, and he was asking question after question of Nicodemus, with me tagging along behind them in silence.

Their footsteps halted just before the bridge due south of the alcove where the Dreaming Tree is found. I stopped along with them, still keeping my silence as I listened to them speak. Edward had asked a question of the elf, though it had been a question about me - or rather something he perceived about me - in particular. I remember at that point Nicodemus looked at me, then back to the man, and explained that slaves, in general, are often overlooked by those around them because of the slavery, and that we were very rarely - if ever - acknowledged as people. Then the elf turned to me and said something I will never forget.

"I see you, Emelina."

Such simple words, but their meaning - and the fact that they came from one who was a complete stranger to me - rocked me to my very core. That he would single out a moment to address me directly, acknowledge me not as someone's property but as a person, put me so off-balance I couldn't think of any way to respond. We just stood there, staring at each other for what felt like an eternity - Nicodemus affirming me as a unique individual in this world of ours, and my head reeling with the implications that maybe I wasn't just a slave. Maybe I could be... more.

Then suddenly the moment was gone, and the elf turned to Edward to ask him to escort me through the rest of the forest, as he would be retiring for now to the Dreaming Tree. They said their farewells, and Nicodemus turned to me briefly as he was taking his leave. He wished me well and said he looked forward to meeting once again. The next moment he was gone, hidden by the cliffs that concealed the Dreaming Tree from casual passers-by.


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I was still standing there, trying to figure out my own thoughts and feelings about what had just taken place, when Edward said we should continue on our way. When he asked where I would go, I said I should likely need to return Below soon, at which point we decided to make our way to the portal at the Falls to the north in the Minmir region.

We made it across the bridge, finally, and started off to the north when something at the intersection of the roads to Minmir and the ruins of Stonehold drew our attention. There, a shaft of light shimmered and grew before us. We spoke for a moment, pondering what it could possibly mean, when there was a sudden flash of light. When my eyes were recovered enough to make sense of our surroundings again, I realized we were... somewhere else.

And there was a devil standing before us, with a predatory smile.

In front of the devil, spread out on a table, were three gems. Each of the gems held a peculiar gleam - a soft radiance glowing from within as if they pulsed with a life of their own, somehow. The devil beckoned us closer. "Come, come and see my wares! Truly exceptional specimens on offer today only!"

Edward went on the defensive immediately, refusing to take even a step closer to the devil-merchant as his hand went to his weapon. "You'll make no deals here today, fiend," he said, his voice coming out almost in a growl.

I didn't say anything at first. I was transfixed by the soft glow coming from the gems on the table. I'd never seen anything like them before. The devil, of course, noticed my fascination and turned his attention solely to me. "Remarkable specimens, indeed! Why, this gem here," he said as he picked up the first of the three, "contains the soul of a woman who knew endless pleasure."

When that didn't draw much of a reaction from me, he placed the gem back on the table and gingerly scooped up the next. "Ah, here we have another, then! A warlock of unsurpassed power. Anything he wanted, he could have at the mere snap of his fingers. His enemies trembled before him, falling to their knees in fear!"

I think I may have snorted in derision, or made some other show of such complete disinterest so far that he quickly put the soul gem back on the table. Then he rubbed his hands together slowly before turning to the last gem, one hand snaking out toward it. His fingers delicately cradled the gem as he lifted it from the table.

"The final gem I have to offer is precious, indeed," he began. "Such a rare soul it contains that I am loathe to part with it." He held the gem aloft between finger and thumb in such a manner that its facets caught a ray of light that magnified its inner glow tenfold. "The soul of a child - but not just any child, no! One who never knew hardship or suffering, pain or loss. A life cut short before its innocence could be tarnished."

All during the time the devil had been describing the souls contained within the gems, Edward had been steadfastly speaking out about how one shouldn't make deals with devils. It was clear the two were vying for my attention, and though I was listening to them both, the last gem - and the devil's description of the soul it contained - held me almost as if I was spellbound.

"You couldn't possibly be really considering this, could you?!" Edward was dumbfounded that, unlike him, I wasn't immediately dismissive of the devil and the wares he was peddling.

His words spurred the devil on even more. "Just this once, my dear, I'll let you choose any one of these three." He gently laid the gem containing the child's soul back on the table with the other two, and beckoned me closer. "You may have one, at no cost to you."

To Edward's horror, I stepped over to the devil's table to get a closer look. The first two gems held no pull for me, whatsoever. My attention was drawn like a magnet to the one that held the child's soul. I heard the paladin take a few steps toward me, then. "Emelina, don't."

"Pick one. Free of charge - no strings attached." The devil's smile grew impossibly wide.

I took a moment to glance over my shoulder at Edward. He shook his head and mouthed the word "no" to me before my gaze was once more drawn to the table. Then I reached down and gently picked up that third gem.

"A fine choice, madam! Should you find yourself in search of more at a later date, you may call upon me. My name is -"

Edward's cry of alarm and outrage drowned out the devil's name as he spoke it. Again I heard movement behind me as, presumably, the paladin rushed forward to attack the devil. Then there was another great flash of light, and again I was temporarily blinded.

When my sight had recovered once more, we were back at the crossroad in Arelith Forest, just north of the Shrine to Silvanus near Myon. Cradled between my hands, I still held the gem whose inner glow pulsed gently, almost like a heartbeat.

"What... have you done?" the paladin's tone became accusatory. He went on a tirade, then, making assumptions about me and the type of person I was. He called me many a thing as I simply stood there, studying the gem in my hands. When he was finally finished with his rant, he stood before me with one hand on the hilt of his blade, ready to draw it and strike me down then and there. "What do you have to say for yourself, drow-slave?"

I was silent for a few moments as he waited for my reply. I won't lie now and say that I wasn't awfully tempted to consume the gem, as the devil no doubt intended for me to do. The life I had lived so far had been a harsh one. Pain, suffering, hardship, loss - they were my constant companions. What would it be like to experience, even for the briefest of moments, what life without them might've been like?

But children have always held a special place in my heart, and the idea of me - or anyone else - having the power to consume the soul of any child, let alone one as pure and innocent as the one I now held in my hands, was unthinkable to me. I let all the accusations and insinuations Edward had flung at me simply fade away before I lifted my eyes from the gem to look at him.

"...where can this one take the gem? Who can she take it to in order to see the child freed?"

The change in Edward's demeanor was as drastic as it was immediate. His hand fell limply from the hilt of his blade as he stared at me in open astonishment. Then his shocked expression turned toward one of guilt and remorse. His tone was somber as he spoke to me then. "Forgive me, Emelina. I have misjudged you, and harshly. Perhaps I've grown cynical due to past experiences on this island - but that is no excuse for the way I treated you just now, and for that, you have my most sincere apologies."

It was the first time anyone had ever apologized to me, for anything.


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Edward ended up escorting me to the Arcane Tower after that, where he introduced me to one of the archmages, Angela Amana. We told her the tale of our meeting the devil at the crossroads, and as I explained to her how it had come into my possession, I offered the gem with the child's soul over to her, asking if she could help to free the child. She agreed to do just that, and a moment or two later I left the Tower to return Below.

Days grew into months. Months lengthened into years. I often thought back to that encounter at the forest crossroad, wondering what had become of the child's soul. However, the handful of times I had seen Archmage Amana again afterward, I was always too shy or fearful of approaching her to find out what, if anything, had been done.

That changed, recently.

A few tendays ago, I finally worked up the courage to speak with her about it. I wasn't even sure she remembered me from that day or not, so my initial approach was hesitant. She was glancing over her shop in the Tower's foyer when I walked over toward her. "Umm... Archmage Amana? Do you have a moment?"

"...somewhat. What's on your mind?" she asked as she turned to regard me.

"I umm... do you remember the first time we met?"

She studied me for a moment before replying. "Not off the top of my head, no. With a reminder, I'm sure I could remedy that."

Over the next few moments, I gave a shorter rendering of the tale of how Edward had brought me to the Tower to seek her out, and reminded her of her promise to see the child's soul freed from the gem. Realization dawned on her, and she smiled at the memory. "Ah, I remember that well, yes. Or rather, what was done with it." She paused before continuing. "I brought it to Celestia, and with the help of a Celestial there, we drew the child's soul out safe and unharmed."

With those words, it was like a burden I'd been weighted down with was suddenly lifted from me. Overwhelming relief and gratitude flooded my senses, and it must have been obvious to her in my reaction. Her smile grew even more as she said "I'm glad you brought it to me. I see there was some concern."

I told her indeed, there had been, and that I'd thought of the child often over the years, as well as my hesitation in approaching her about it all. Then another thought hit me - one I had had often while thinking about the child. "I umm... don't suppose... did you ever by any chance learn the child's name?"

She closed her eyes as she took a moment to think, her smile growing more serene by the moment. "Merialeth. Her name was Merialeth. Elven child, her hair was almost down to her ankles. She liked to dance, she said, and did so. Skipped around Agamemnon, the Helper celestial." She paused to draw another breath, that smile of serenity ever-present as she spoke. "He said he needed to speak with her on her own, find out who her parents had been. He dismissed me at that point, and they walked a little bit away. She never stopped smiling, not once."

Merialeth.

I finally knew her name.

She was free, and safe. She was happy.

She danced.

Merialeth.


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If I never accomplish anything else worthwhile in my life, I can still die happy knowing that I helped rescue a child's soul from being extinguished forever. Everything that led up to that moment was worth it. Everything that's happened after has been worth it.

Her name is like a prayer for me, now. In quiet moments when I'm by myself, and the stresses, regrets, and pains I feel on a daily basis threaten to overwhelm me, I speak her name like a mantra.

Merialeth.

Merialeth the Dancer.

She inspires me with the strength and courage to keep fighting for the ones I've come to love. She gives me hope that everything will turn out right in the end.

Though I never met her, I will never forget her.
Last edited by Dragonfyre on Sun Jul 14, 2019 10:02 am, edited 1 time in total.
Active character(s): Emelina Selizar - A Slave No More

Others: Shea Webber (Retired and wandering the wilds with her beloved Xellree)

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Dragonfyre
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Re: A Slave No More

Post by Dragonfyre » Sun Sep 02, 2018 7:40 am

I'm not good with words, at least not when speaking. My spoken words are, more often than not, a result of impulse rather than thought; it's part of why I remain so silent, so often. Words spoken out of impulse, rather than careful thought, often produce an undesirable result.

Written words, however, are another thing entirely. I have time to think, to puzzle out exactly what it is that I want to say; feelings I want to convey, the intent behind my actions, and my thoughts on their outcomes are much easier for me to put down on paper than they are to speak to another living, breathing, thinking, feeling person. I am able to get the whole of what I want to say into words, without the interruptions and distractions from my thoughts that are part of the very nature of holding a conversation.

And yet, I still hesitate to write on some subjects. Perhaps it's because they are held so very close to my heart, and I fear the reaction - the judgement - of others that will come about should these things ever be revealed fully. Maybe that's why I've only mostly hinted at the true nature of the relationships I hold with those I care most about, so far, and haven't yet laid them bare within these pages.

If I'm going to be judged for caring about those I love, then let them judge the whole of it - not just whatever their limited viewpoint keeps them focused upon.


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Kalyin, my beloved Golden Cobra... where do I start?

My relationship with Kalyin didn't begin when he purchased me from Bognar. It started sometime before that, during one fateful cycle Below when the two of them met to discuss a business transaction. I don't remember what this "business" was about. What I do remember is being so entranced by the mere presence of this drow - the way he moved, the sound of his voice, the way his silver-eyed gaze washed over me and held me in rapt interest long after his attention had moved off elsewhere. Then after what seemed like only a moment or two had passed, he was gone again and I was left feeling somehow... empty, diminished in his absence.

I didn't know what to make of what Kalyin evinced in me whenever he was around. No one had ever held my fascination in the way he did. All I knew is that I wanted to know more, be around him more, just to be a witness to all that went on around him. Did I languish in his absence, or did I just imagine it? Perhaps that's why I decided to fashion a little stuffed doll in his image. If I couldn't be around him in person, I would at least be able to hold on to some semblance of him.

On impulse one cycle, I gave the doll to him. His reaction was one of surprise and confusion. He studied it at length, not a single detail lost under his scrutinizing examination. Ebon-hued cotton cloth was used for his skin, black-as-night silks made up his attire; wispy strands of silvery-white thread for hair and tiny, cast-off mithril slag polished and shined to form his eyes; and in loving, painstaking detail, there was Black Cobra - draped across the doll's shoulders, each tiny little scale intricately detailed in the embossed leather which made up the drow's beloved serpentine companion. Kalyin handled his miniature self with delicate care, as if it were a cherished treasure. His precious movements with the doll only endeared him to me even more.

When he put the doll away, those silver eyes of his slowly settled over me. Curiosity was paramount in his expression, mingled with confusion. He asked me no questions as to why I had given him such a gift, nor why I had made it in the first place, though those question clearly burned to be given voice. Instead, as I averted my eyes to the ground, he reached over to caress my cheek and lift my gaze back to his face. Our eyes locked together for an eternal instant, the silence between us pounding like thunder in my ears.

Then he dropped his hand and turned to walk away, without having said a word.


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When Bognar sold me to Kalyin, I was both thrilled and filled with dread. The drow was my master now; whatever fantasies my post-adolescent mind had been allowed to run wild with before, I purposefully quashed to prevent them from interfering with fulfilling my duties to my new master. My fascination with him never wavered, however - and he knew it. Such was his hold over me that he simply had to give voice to his needs or desires, and I was off to make sure he would have whatever it was he wanted.

He never abused my willingness to serve him. In fact, he rarely ever ordered me to do anything, even when we were in public in Andunor surrounded by others who expected to see slaves used and abused as nothing more than tools until we were no longer able to serve. When he did choose to issue a command to me, it was always done in such a manner to make it seem more a request than a demand. Before long, I began to anticipate what he wanted before he had a chance to give voice to his desires.

Others started to take notice of Kalyin's new slave. They came to him to remark on how well-trained I was - meek, subservient, obedient - and other such compliments. My loyalty to him drew even more attention to him, and he reveled in it. When we were alone, he would laugh - oh, how I adored the sound of his laughter in those moments - and lavish his own praise on me in return.

I never wanted these private moments to end.

Inevitably, Kalyin's interest in other people started drawing my attention more and more - as did other people's interest in Kalyin. Over time, I learned his predilection leaned more toward males - a disappointment, but not one that surprised me after having spent so much time with him. It wasn't a well-known fact, however, which proved a useful situation when a certain priestess' eye became drawn almost obsessively toward him

Valryne was persistent, I'll give her that much. She became a near-constant presence in Andunor's Hub, where she would wait for hours on end for any sign of Kalyin. I learned to keep a sharp lookout for her when I had business there, and to draw as little notice to myself as possible. Still, sometimes I messed up, and she saw me before I saw her. She would make a beeline toward me, asking me "Have you seen Kalyin?" or if I knew where he was, how long he was going to be, when I expected to see him next, and... the list goes on. I wasn't the only one she asked, but I was known to not leave his side very often, or for very long, and so every time she saw me she interrogated me about him.

This went on for... I don't know how long, but it was at least a month or two. I found it both frustrating and amusing at the same time. Kalyin thought it was hilarious that a priestess of Lolth would allow herself to appear so obsessed with a male, and publicly at that. Of course, he had no interest in her in return; he already had a lover, Vance, secret though their relationship was. To try and thwart her advances, he came up with a plan - to spread a rumor about who he shared his bed with.

Perhaps a tencycle later - maybe two at the most - as I was walking through the Hub, Saslae approached me. She kept her voice low as she asked, "Are you vithing Kalyin? Valryne seemed to think you were vithing Kalyin."

I nearly choked on a laugh, but caught myself before letting out a sound. Instead, I gave her a simple look and a shrug, responding with "If Kalyin wishes it to be known that he's bedding this one, then... so be it."

"So she was right, then," she retorted. "I am not sure he wanted it known. Val wanted him. I think he said there was another ...and she may have figured it out. She got angry at me, when I asked why she was upset." I just stood there listening, keeping my expression as neutral as I could as she went on. "Kron... stolen from her. Kalyin... vithing his slave... a human. And refusing a high priestess? These are the reasons I believe she willingly turned traitor."

I never did correct her on that. To this day, she probably still thinks that Kalyin and I were lovers for a time, unless he's told her otherwise since. The laughs he and I shared over that particular rumor, and how fast it spread, were some of the first true moments of mirth I ever experienced.


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Over time, Kalyin and I began to confide in each other - not as master and slave, but more like friends... or family. He would voice his frustrations, hopes, and even fears to me. He told me about Vance long before the two of them let their relationship go public. He related how he was angry, frustrated about how his relationship with Idil'vas had seemed to grow so distant when she became a Councilor of the Devil's Table, and he the Trade Minister of both districts.

He said he felt closer to me, now, than he did to her - his twin sister.

I, in turn, spoke to him about my experiences on the surface. My chance meeting with Rann while trying to offload the Dwarf-Smasher ores. My searches for the various places in which King's Crown could be found growing. How I had started working the farms in Cordor, gaining valuable experience in tending and taking care of various plants, and in learning of their uses in herbalism. Finally, I revealed to him that I felt there was something... more growing between myself and Rann.

Never once did he tell me to stop spending so much time on the surface. On the contrary, he encouraged me to explore not only the Lands Above, but also how my interactions with various people made me feel. He was particularly interested in Rann, but not in a calculating or malicious manner.

The first time I slipped up and didn't say "this one" to Kalyin was during one such talk. We were talking about the rumor Kalyin had spread to keep Valryne at bay, and I said, "I told Rann about it... he was ...jealous, I think."

Kalyin simply stared at me for a moment. Slowly, he began to smile. It took me a bit to realize what I'd done, and as I started to apologize, he shook his head. He then told me I should never fear speaking of myself like that while we were alone - and he encouraged me to keep doing it. It's then that I told him about Jadoth's words spoken outside the Nomad.

To my surprise, he agreed with what the elf had said.

Then he asked if I wanted him to remove the collar.


*a rather large ink blot stains the page here. quill hovered over parchment, droplets of ink drip-drip-dripping into the same spot over and over, slowly spreading outward until attention was returned to the page, and quill was drawn away once more*


...I panicked and said no.
Active character(s): Emelina Selizar - A Slave No More

Others: Shea Webber (Retired and wandering the wilds with her beloved Xellree)

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Re: A Slave No More

Post by Dragonfyre » Fri Sep 21, 2018 11:47 pm

Kalyin didn't ask any questions about why I refused his offer. He knew me enough to puzzle it out for himself. Even Rann understood my reasons, though he didn't know me as well at the time. Others who I've told over time - not that there have been many - have also understood, though to a lesser degree, I think. There weren't very many people who actually knew me as I was at the time, and so for the most part my explanations and reasoning would be completely lost on them.

Or they would hear only what they wanted to hear - that I refused the collar's removal - and would brand me as a willing slave, a drow sympathizer, and spy for Andunor.

I have no time for such small-minded people.

Those who have never experienced what it is to be a slave will never fully understand what it is like. Even the ones who are forced into servitude at a later point in their life aren't truly able to comprehend what those of us who were born into it, or subjugated to it as a child, have gone through. For us, the concept of freedom is... foreign. Our minds are shaped, molded, and made to believe that we have one purpose in life - to serve the masters in whatever capacity they see fit. We're made to believe we are nothing more than property, to be bought and sold at a whim. Our value is based not on our character or moral compass, but rather on obedience, subservience, and the ability to perform whatever tasks the masters set out for us to do. Our wants and needs are not our own, but those of who we serve.

For those who are forced into slavery later in life, it is different. Freedom has been experienced, and is something to fight for. You know life can be different. Better. That there is more to it than living out your days in servitude, never expecting your lot in life to improve. You're able to see the masters for what they are - people, who use other people as nothing more than tools; people who view other people as less than - cattle to be herded, pets to train, or tools to be utilized until they wear out and die. Those born into freedom, who cherish that freedom, will do whatever it takes to regain it.

Though I was born to slavery, my experience was not as bad as many others have had it. My mother was... "favored" by her master. She was a house slave, and as such held certain privileges other slaves could only dream about. She had her own room in the master's manor - small as it was, no larger than a closet in that house. When I was born, she was allowed to keep me rather than watch me sold off, given to another... or even killed. I was raised to be a good, obedient slave so that she and I could both continue to live in such a privileged manner.

I was taught, from the earliest age, that pleasing the master was the most important thing I could ever do. Not only would it make him happy, but it would ensure I was viewed as something of value. Not something to be sold on a whim. Not something to lash out at in anger. Not something to be whipped and beaten into submission. Show them a willingness to perform your duties, and complete them as quickly and efficiently as possible, and you are viewed as something worth keeping. Something worth the effort of maintaining.

Perhaps even something worth protecting.


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Freedom.

The panic that Kalyin's offer induced in me was confounded by a variety of thoughts and feelings. Not even two years had passed since I had arrived in Andunor. I was twenty years old, and every day of my life had been spent in servitude to one master or another. Kalyin had been, by far, the most benevolent of them all. Never was his hand raised in anger toward me. Never was I given a punishment I didn't deserve. He gave me as much "freedom" as a slave could ever hope to experience, and never once punished or chastised me for being away for too long. He would call me to him through the leylines - never by the power of the collar - had he any need of me. I never refused his call, when it came.

Never did I want to serve anyone else.

I was lucky to have been bought by him, and I knew it. Not a cycle went by that I didn't offer a prayer to Tymora in thankfulness at having been placed under his care, or a prayer of appeasement to Beshaba to ward off Her fickle attention. I was happy with my lot in life, having never known anything better.

In truth, I had come to love Kalyin.

Love.

Another notion which had, up until this point, been something of an alien concept to me. For all the time I had been raised by my mother, I had never experienced what love was like. She showed me no tenderness, even when we were alone. I was always held at arm's length by her, perhaps out of fear for losing me someday; a sort of cold detachment she treated me with in order to protect herself from my eventual loss. The first time she showed any true emotion toward me was on the day of that botched attempt to "rescue" me from slavery.

Kalyin, on the other hand, showed me kindness - affection, even - during our times alone. It was in his actions, more than his words, that I came to realize he actually cared about me. There were days where I had worked myself into exhaustion where I remember him picking me up and carrying me like a child, then tucking me into his bed to rest before shifting into Golden Cobra and curling up around me. There were times when we spoke at length about matters both personal and private; topics like faith, family, and more - and what they meant to each of us.

Somewhere along the line, my collar had ceased to be a symbol of servitude and obedience. It had shifted, in my perspective, into a shield - a bulwark of protection erected against all harm. It had also become a symbol of my commitment to Kalyin, and so long as its circle remained unbroken it was a real, tangible connection between the two of us no matter the distance between us as our lives began to pull us in separate directions.

As Kalyin became more and more involved in the politics of Andunor, and his relationship with Vance, my life on the surface started taking up more and more of my own time and attention. I was exploring new places, meeting new people, and going through experiences I'd never had the opportunity to have before. For the first time in my life, I was starting to form relationships with other people who saw me not as a thing, but as another person. I was starting to make friends.

It was a vast, strange new world for me. One that both excited and frightened me at the same time.

When Kalyin asked me that first time if I wished for my collar to be removed, all of this and more jumped to the forefront of my mind. Curiosity and fear, excitement and dread. Paramount among these feelings was the fear of losing my beloved Golden Cobra forever, for I knew that if the collar were removed, I would be expected by nearly everyone I had met to turn my back on all those I knew Below and never turn back. I would be expected to abandon, perhaps even betray, Kalyin - he, who had offered me his protection, his affection, and his trust, while asking for so little in return.

It was an impossible decision. And so, I balked - and the collar remained.


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As time went on, I started seeing parallels between my life Below, and my life in the Lands Above. Kalyin had purchased a shop of his own before becoming Trade Minister of Andunor, and he allowed me to help him keep the shop stocked with various items either made or found during our travels in the Underdark. At almost the same time, Rann had secured his own shop in Cordor and, to help him out, I also started supplying him with much of the same.

I spoke about each of them to the other often. Rann's questions about Kalyin were usually business-oriented; he was curious about how the economies of the two cities compared to one another for the most part, and wondered if he might be able to learn more about the overall economy on the island of Arelith by comparing and contrasting the supply-demand curves of Cordor and Andunor against one another. Kalyin's interest in Rann was different; he was curious about the man his Vynessia chose to spend so much of her time with, and why he had become so important to me.

It also didn't escape me that, after I told Kalyin about that conversation with Jadoth, he started giving me much more time to myself - which I spent almost exclusively on the surface with Rann, as he knew I would. At the same time, the leeway he gave me in pursuing my own interests - new as such a concept was to me - allowed the opportunity for Rann to keep working with me in my exploration of what my life could be like were the collar ever to be removed.

I had also never experienced relationships like the ones I had with Kalyin and Rann before. Kalyin, over time, I had come to view as a sort of father - something I had been deprived of in my upbringing, as my mother had never even spoken of me having a father, let alone revealed to me who he was. Rann, on the other hand, had gone from casual business associate to friend, and from friend to... I didn't know what, yet. All I knew was that I couldn't resist the pull I felt toward him; it was strange and unfamiliar. Frightening, and yet... so right.

Their meeting was a foregone conclusion to me. I just didn't know how it would happen. As it turned out, it wasn't me who broached the subject about them meeting; it was Kalyin. We had just started speaking about Rann one cycle when, out of the blue, he said, "I should like to meet this Rann of yours. Will you do this for me?"

Of course I didn't refuse. Some time later, we set out for the surface and headed toward Cordor. The sun had set by the time we made it to the surface, and he assumed his form as Golden Cobra as we made our way south and west toward Cordor. We stopped in a little wooded area just south of the Arcane Tower - Kalyin remained hidden within a copse of trees while I made my way to the city to go and bring Rann back to him.

Perhaps an hour had passed by the time I returned to where I had left Kalyin, with Rann walking in tow behind me. Only, he wasn't hiding in the copse where I had last seen him. Puzzled, I started looking around in other places, and before long I saw him - along the road, headed back toward the little thicket we had just searched. When he saw us, his serpentine body began twisting, writhing, and growing - he sprouted arms and legs as golden scales turned to ebon skin; one moment he was Golden Cobra, and the next he was Kalyin.

Our presence drew the attention of a few nearby goblins and their larger kin, hobgoblins. These, I easily dispatched while Kalyin and Rann took their measure of each other. The pests eliminated, I then turned back toward the road to see the two had been joined by another - a face I didn't know, but as Kalyin greeted him, I recognized the name. Amadeo.

I noticed immediately that with the monk's unexpected presence, Rann started acting nervous. He made a show of thanking both me and Kalyin for "saving" him from the wretched creatures I had just slaughtered, and introduced himself by name to both drow and human alike. After they had introduced themselves as well, Kalyin and Amadeo spoke briefly, and we were all invited to the desert fort the monk had turned into a monastery.

Kalyin called a portal into being, and he motioned Amadeo toward it first. After the monk had stepped through, Kalyin gestured for me and Rann to wait where we were. Within moments, Rann was called through the Weave and he, too, disappeared from my sight. It wasn't much longer before I felt Kalyin's familiar summons, calling me to his side as well.

The difference in temperature was stark. One moment I was standing in grass as a cool breeze flowed by. The next moment there was an almost oppressive heat, even in the night, as I took my first step in the desert. After getting a good sense of my surroundings, I moved to follow the others as they made their way away from the portal and toward the hardened sand and clay path that constitutes a "road" of sorts in the desert. Before long, we made it to the desert fortress Amadeo had converted into a monastery of sorts.

He invited us into a rather large tent there, and after settling in on cushions around a low wooden platform that serves as a table, Amadeo and Kalyin began to speak. The monk started in by questioning Kalyin about the collar around my neck, why he chose to take on a slave, and other things along those lines. I could tell Kalyin really didn't appreciate the tone in which the questions were asked, let alone the line of questioning itself. His answers were defensive and off-putting - and yes, a bit arrogant, but that's just... Kalyin.

Before long, the subject changed to other matters - mostly about business-related matters. I was glad the shift in conversation had taken the focus away from me and my collar. Rann was far more interested and talkative as well, as he and Kalyin spoke of their individual experiences in running shops, and such. I just sat back and listened in for the most part, simply enjoying the fact that the two people I cared most about had finally met, and seemed to be getting along. Eventually, Amadeo excused himself and left the three of us alone in the tent.

It was only a few hours, but the time seemed to last far longer - and yet it passed all too quickly for my liking. Kalyin needed to return to Andunor, and to his duties to the city. The fact that Kalyin didn't insist on me returning with him spoke volumes to me - whether or not he trusted, or even liked him, Kalyin was leaving me with Rann. No doubt, had something happened to me after we parted ways, Golden Cobra would have sought him out and rained holy terror on the man. We said our goodbyes, and Kalyin used the portal in the tent to begin his journey back Below. Afterward, Rann and I made our way back to Cordor.


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To my knowledge, Rann and Kalyin have only met twice other than that meeting. Once was during the plague I mentioned earlier - the Renor Blight. The second was a few months after the meeting with Amadeo. Neither time amounted much to anything, contrary to what some people might think. The first of these was a chance meeting at the gnoll encampment - yes, the very same one where I met Edward and Nicodemus. The other was when Kalyin summoned me to his room in the Sorcere (before it became the Eldritch Arcanum), when I asked Kalyin to call Rann as well; I just wanted him to know I was fine, and we spent a few hours simply talking about nothing, really.

That one was also the only time Rann has ever met Vance. All in all, it was uneventful - two couples relaxing and talking in a private sanctum, away from the prying eyes of others. Afterward, Kalyin called up a portal, and Rann and I went back home to Cordor.

There was a third time when they almost met... Well, it would have been the second meeting, had things turned out differently, but the Pit - having never met him before - struck him down in the chaos of a conflict in Cordor's sewers before such could happen. The same incident also led to the events which ended up spurring rumors that Rann was a follower of the Lord of Shadows. A tale for another time, perhaps.

Over the next few months, both Kalyin and Rann started to become more involved in politics - Kalyin in Andunor, obviously, and Rann in Cordor. Yet another parallel between my two worlds. And here, I really need to emphasize - they were parallel. I led two separate lives - as one who wore a collar, and as one who was learning what life might be like without a collar. Though my two worlds paralleled each other in many regards, and conflicted with each other often, it was only on rare occasions that the two intersected at all - and not in the way that some people have come to believe.. Kalyin didn't use me as a spy for Andunor, nor did Rann try to get me to keep tabs on those Below for Cordor.

I was not a spy for either side. Neither was Rann, despite the rumors prevalent in Cordor, and the trumped-up excuses Qasi used as his reasons for our exiles from the city.

I just wanted to keep those I loved safe. Even then, I was so cautious about it that it caused Kalyin to doubt me, once. It was the only time he ever treated me harshly. It was the only time I ever felt like I was his slave.









// Sorry for the long wait, those of you who have been keeping up with Eme's story. I had meant to post this several days ago, but lost power/internet due to the hurricane. I'll be able to keep writing and posting now that things have returned to (somewhat) normal.
Last edited by Dragonfyre on Sun Jul 14, 2019 10:46 am, edited 3 times in total.
Active character(s): Emelina Selizar - A Slave No More

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Re: A Slave No More

Post by Dragonfyre » Mon Oct 01, 2018 6:02 am

~Summer, Year 141 AR~


Doctor Death. Another plague.

Ruigardt, Alastriona, Rann, and others - abducted, forced to play a "game" by the villain responsible for manufacturing the Renor Blight. The prize? The right to bid on the cure for his latest creation.

A table flipped, plague samples scattered and secreted away. Allies in the Arcane Tower working furiously to call the abducted to them through the leylines. To freedom from the grip of the madman intent on unleashing horrors on the island.

Success at last, those whisked away against their will returned. Though not whole. Not all of them. One, more than the others, would never be the same again.


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Rann had ended up with the stolen samples in the aftermath of the commotion Ruigardt had caused. After they'd all returned to Cordor, he'd brought them to Minex Mercantile's headquarters, and secured them in the vault in our private room on the upper floor. Our intent was to work in conjunction with others - Doctor Snow Emil of the Winter's Rest Clinic, and members of the Arcane Tower, among others - in order to reverse-engineer a cure to the contents of both vials he'd brought back.

It was not to be.

We'd hardly had time to figure out who to go to for collaboration when Ruigardt came to Rann, demanding he hand the samples over. He wanted to give them to the Harpers, of all people. My thoughts mirrored Rann's - why give something so dangerous and volatile to a group of strangers, people who kept their identities as supposed workers of "good" hidden? Trust is not easily granted, and for good reason. It's too easily violated.

But Ruigardt was adamant. He used his position as Chancellor to pull rank on Rann - his Vice-Chancellor - and ordered him to hand the samples over. The reason he cited? "Security issues."

And he looked directly at me as he said it.

Security issues. After I had sat in on high-level meetings pertaining to Cordor's government. After I had been the one to ensure those at the meeting weren't able to be scried upon. After I had worked so damned hard to build up people's trust, including his, so that I might actually be accepted in Cordor, and not just tolerated.

I wanted to stab him. Not just because he doubted me, but because he let his doubt about me cast doubt on Rann, as well. He had all but begged Rann to be the one who ran for Chancellor in the previous election, but Rann had wanted no part in government, or politics in general. But Ruigardt and Alastriona were insistent that they needed him, and the support he could gather, in order to win. Finally, a compromise was reached. Ruigardt would run for Chancellor, with Rann being announced as his intended Vice. And they had won.

Now it had come to this. I didn't know what had caused Ruigardt to suddenly become suspicious of me at the time. It didn't matter. If he had doubts about me, he could have cast me out of the city as an exile to force me to stay away. But he didn't. Instead, he let me remain, and let his suspicions cloud his judgement of the man he'd had enough trust and faith in to want him to be the elected leader of Cordor.

I was furious. Brugga had witnessed the whole thing, and was confused over what was going on. Incensed, I stormed out into the night, slamming the door behind me. I didn't know where I was going - I only knew I needed to do something to vent my anger and frustration over the matter on someone other than the Chancellor. Gods, that would have been a whole new can of worms if I'd allowed myself to lose control and strike out at the object of my rage.

I stalked through the shadows of Cordor, hands gripping at the hilts of my kukris as my mind ran wild with ideas about what I'd like to do to that uptight, self-righteous bastard. It wasn't just that he'd cast his doubt on me so obviously. It was his own inaction on a variety of issues - issues which Rann had taken to him to try and resolve - which helped to fuel my ire. I let my feet take me where they would, for my mind was too preoccupied to think about where I was going.

The Fool's Clover. A hidden door. Streets of shadow, twisted reflections of the city I had come to call home. A trade port run by the Shadovar. Into one portal and out another. Stonehold. Down the stairs to another portal. Again I walked through, and out another. The Ice Road in the Underdark. Familiar territory I had travelled many a time. As if by instinct, I headed up the rise and along the icy pathways, killing all and sundry along the way until I reached the ruins of Umbrick's Halls.

Mindless slaughter, for hours on end. Since reaching the Ice Road, I'd felt the familiar pull of Rann trying to call me to him through the leylines. Time and again, I refused his call. I couldn't meet him like this - not with this burning desire to hurt, to maim, to kill. And so I kept going. Time and again I encountered enemies as I traversed the ruins now overrun with duergar. Time and again I let their axes, their arrows, and their spells slice, pierce, and rip through me.

They all fell, one by one, to collapse around my feet.

This. This was what I was meant for. This is what Bognar had bought me for, had made me train for. Perhaps not duergar - he'd never intended that - but to be a killing machine, seen one moment and gone the next. A nightmare creeping from shadow to shadow, unseen until it was too late.

I found myself in the old library, deep within the ruins. Beaten and bloody, exhausted from the fighting and barely able to stand. Again I felt Rann pulling at me, and again I refused. Not because I wanted to keep killing. My thirst for vengeance had, momentarily, been quenched in the blood of the fallen duergar all around me. It was because I knew if he saw me in the state I was in, he would panic.

I took a few minutes to tend to my numerous wounds, bandaging up the worst of them, and cleaning as much blood as I could off of me. Though questionable in origin, I'd found some potions that would help speed the healing process along, and drank liberally from them. I felt another pull, and this time I was ready. In the blink of an eye, I found myself back at the Minex Mercantile headquarters, and in Rann's arms. There were others there, but in that moment I didn't care who knew of the true nature of our relationship. I leaned against him and just let him hold me, saying nothing. I didn't need to say anything. He knew.

He always knows.


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Days passed, and with each sunrise and sunset, I felt the urge to return to Andunor - to Kalyin. He needed to know about this new threat from Doctor Death; I needed to protect him from it. But with the Chancellor having showed his suspicions about me so blatantly, I knew I couldn't just go. I had to wait. Finally, when the timing felt right, I prepared to go find him. With the use of a wand I ensured no one would be scrying on me, then I used a lens to take me straight into Andunor.

First mistake.

The Hub was packed with people, and my arrival didn't go unnoticed. Almost the instant I stepped out of the portal, I was assaulted by a barrage of questions from Gnaela, of all people. Recently, she had been trying to work as a go-between, with the intent to see my collar removed - and at the same time use that as leverage against Rann. She started questioning me about why I was there, was I trying to pull something over on her, why I wasn't in Cordor, and... The questions were endless, and non-stop.

It was Vance, of all people, who spoke up first. "If you have an issue with Kalyin's slave, I suggest you take it up with him, and let her be on her way. He is in a meeting, currently, but should be free soon."

Her attention thus drawn away from me momentarily, I was able to make out a familiar voice. "Emelina, he would speak with you. Join him upstairs, will you not?" It was Coran'zen. I sent a silent prayer of thanks to Tymora as I made my way over to the elderly warlock, then followed him up the stairs and to his forge.

It had been some time since I'd seen Kalyin's mentor, and my occasional language tutor. Once we were within his rooms, I was instantly put at ease. This place had been a sanctuary for me, always and often, when I needed to escape to a quiet place. It was my home away from home, and I was at peace while here.

Coran'zen and I spent some time just catching up with one another. We were sitting, talking - he on his bed and me on a stool nearby - when the door opened not too long after we had arrived. Kalyin slipped in quietly and closed the door behind him. Before I could say a word, he started speaking, asking me all manner of questions.

What did I know about Doctor Death? Did I know anything about this new plague going around? Just two among many such questions, and I answered them all the best that I could. I was relieved he already knew about the threat this new situation posed, and all too ready to tell him what I knew of the situation - including that samples had been retrieved, and what had happened with them.

Then a question that took me by surprise - "Are you ready to have your collar removed, Vynessia?"

It took me a few moments to process the question. I thought back over the past few months, how many times the collar had become a barrier for me, and for Rann, in our lives up in Cordor. The talks we had about whether or not I was ready replayed in my mind. After what must've been only the space of a few breaths, but seemed like a lifetime, I looked to Kalyin and nodded to him. "I - I think so, yes."

His smile in that moment was everything to me. Then in a flash, it was gone again as he spoke of another meeting he needed to attend, but afterward? He would take me to the slavemaster to see the collar removed. Then he was out the door once more, and I sat there stunned. Was this really happening? I looked over to Coran'zen where he still sat on his bed, simply watching me.

"He is happy for you, Emelina," was all he said at first.

I didn't know what to say. I started babbling about how much I was going to miss him - this old drow with his eyes aglow, eldritch fire burning within them. He seemed almost amused for a moment. "Surely this will not be the last time they will see each other."

I wasn't so sure. We spoke for a while longer, and as we conversed I could tell he was tiring. Eventually he made it plain that he would seek his rest, and I - not wanting to impose on him overlong - made to leave so he wouldn't be disturbed. Then, on impulse, I turned and hugged him. "I will miss you, Coran-one," I said, my voice tinged with both sadness and amusement at calling him by the first name I had used to refer to him, back when I couldn't quite remember his name in full.

The hug seemed to both surprise and confuse him. Then, after a moment, he returned it. "He will miss you as well." Slowly, I pulled myself from him and walked over to the door. I turned back to get one last look at him as he settled himself atop the bed. We shared a smile, and then... I left.

It was the last time I saw him, to this day - and I was right. I do miss him. Terribly at times.



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I kept to the shadows as I made my way around Andunor for the next couple of hours. During the time I'd spent in the Hub, and within Coran'zen's forge, I had kept up with keeping prying eyes - or scrying ones, at least - away. Now, with my wand running low on charges, I went in search of another before it ran out. It simply wouldn't do, I knew, to been seen down here by anyone who might be searching for me from Above.

But, try as I might, I couldn't find a single shop anywhere in Andunor that was selling the type of wand I needed. I searched everywhere I could think of - both upstairs and in the main halls of the Hub, the merchants squares in both the Devil's Table and the Sharps districts, the shops outside the arena in the Table, the ones within the entrance to the Sharps district house, in the Spider's Web, the Opium Den, all the various shops in the Port, by the Dreadnaught crew's quarter, over in the Treadstone Locks, and even the shops all the way out at the Zurkhwood Grove. There were simply none to be found.

Frustrated at not having located a replacement for the wand I needed, and knowing my time in Andunor was growing short because of it, I decided to try and find Kalyin once more. I wanted to let him know I needed to leave, but that I would be back soon - after obtaining another wand, that is. I made my way to the Sharps district house once more, where he and Vance lived. Still keeping to the shadows, I used the key he had given me long ago to open the door and step inside - right into the tail end of the meeting he had spoken of.

I saw Kalyin and Vance, along with a few faces I was unfamiliar with. Unsure of whether I should make my presence known, I kept to the shadows and crept around to the other side of a dividing wall as I made my way around the room to the other side.

Second mistake.

I had just reached Kalyin's side and was about to reveal my presence to him when I heard Vance utter a prayer I'd watched him offer up before - for which he was granted the ability to see all that might be hidden from normal sight. He eyes swept the room, then stopped when they landed on me. His voice was angry when he next spoke. "Is she supposed to be here, Kalyin?"

Unsure of what to do, I stepped quickly over to Vance, offering to leave if that's what he wanted. He just stared at me for a moment, then shook his head and looked over at Kalyin as if to tell him to deal with the "problem". The next moment, Kalyin's voice - and the coldness in it - cut through me like a knife. "You will reveal yourself to me, Vynessia. Now," he said, with an angry hiss.

I flinched at the tone in his voice. I lost all concentration on keeping myself hidden, and I stood before Kalyin with my head bowed, unable to utter a word. He stared at me, his eyes like molten silver with the heat and intensity of his gaze. "You think to spy on me, Vynessia? ON ME?!"

I shook my head, blinking in surprise that he would come to that conclusion. "N-no! I would never do that!" I sputtered out.

"Then why the skulking about, walking around in shadows? In my home, of all places!" Black Cobra, on the floor beside him, let out an agitated hiss and slithered toward me as if ready to strike.

Dumbfounded that things had gone so horribly wrong, and so quickly, I stammered. "As far as me ...sneaking around ...it has become my habit of late. This cycle especially, since Gnaela saw me in the Hub and started insinuating I'm spying for the surface." I told him. I tried to say more, but my mind was still reeling. I wanted to tell him that I was just trying to find him, but I was trying to avoid being seen by others. That I just wanted to let him know I would be back soon. That I was still his Vynessia, the one he had come to know and trust, and that there was nothing in my mind of betrayal.

But the words simply wouldn't come out.

His voice, colder than I'd ever heard before, cut me to the bone then as he held his hand out toward me. "Give me your key."

My head lowered in defeat, I slipped my keyring from a pouch, then removed the key to Kalyin's rooms and held it out toward him. He let out another hiss, his hand lashing out in an angry swipe as he took it from me. He stared at me for a few long moments then, and when he finally spoke again, the tone in his voice was as close to hate-filled as I had ever heard.

"Come with me."
Last edited by Dragonfyre on Wed Jul 17, 2019 1:39 am, edited 3 times in total.
Active character(s): Emelina Selizar - A Slave No More

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Re: A Slave No More

Post by Dragonfyre » Sat Oct 06, 2018 3:46 am

He led me down into the basement of the district house, and I followed him wordlessly, my eyes trained on the heels of his boots. When we finally came to a stop, I pried my gaze from his feet and looked around. All around me were the holding cells in which criminals, traitors, and surfacer enemies were held for interrogation. With a sweep of his hand toward one of the cells, Kalyin finally spoke again, his voice devoid of emotion. "Get in."

I looked to the cell he'd gestured to, then back at him. With a sigh of defeat, I hung my head and did as I was ordered and stepped into the cell. He spoke again, then, as I simply stood there with my arms crossed as if hugging myself, my gaze refusing to leave the floor.

"I had to come and find you," he started off. "You withheld information that means life and death. And I had to find you." There was no mistaking the venom in his voice now. "I applaud your brilliance in keeping the collar to allow me to think that you were different from all the others that want to kill me or use me as a tool. Lesson learned."

"I told you I came as soon as I could, when we spoke in Coran's forge, Kalyin. Then as soon as I stepped through the portal, Gnaela started hounding me with questions, and thank the gods that Conran'zen was there to pull me away from her. I actually came looking for you, but heard Vance mention you were in a meeting while Gnaela was harassing me."

"It should have been the first thing you did! Not cycles and cycles later. Do not take me for a fool. You could have even sent a messenger," he spat his words at me.

"Yes, right after the Chancellor of Cordor clearly showed he's grown suspicious of me, for whatever damned reason. That would be the perfect time to... are you even listening to yourself?" I asked, incredulously.

"Speak to me in that fashion again..." he said, his tone emotionless, and his silver eyes turning as cold as ice, "...and I will remove your tongue."

Never had he spoken to me like that before. For the first time, truly afraid of what he might do to me in his anger, I felt myself pulling back, shrinking away from his presence. My back hit the far wall behind me, stopping my retreat. He spoke again, then. "You pushed me here. I never thought you would betray me, Vynessia. I am a fool," he said with his jaw clenched. "I will see if the Strifeleader has any questions for you."

"I have never betrayed you, Kalyin. If I was going to do so, I've had many opportunities. Why would I do it now? To what end?"

For the briefest of moments, his expression betrayed him and revealed his hurt, his devastation... and his confusion. "I honestly have no idea. None at all." And with that, he turned on his heel and headed out past the other holding cells. As the sound of his soft footfalls receded, I retreated to the far corner of the cell and collapsed onto the floor to sit, hugging my knees to my chest.



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I don't know how long I sat there, simply rocking back and forth, my mind reeling with the sudden shift in my relationship with Kalyin. Time seemed to be both endless, and to stand still all at once. I stared at the floor, counting the stones that made it up over and over again. I memorized their placement, which of them held cracks or other blemishes, noted the various smaller details like coloring and such. When I grew tired of that, I turned my attention to the stone wall of the back of the cell and repeated the process.

Hours passed. Perhaps days, though there was no way to be sure down in the bowels of the district house, deep Below in this city in the Underdark. Time held no meaning to me anymore, as I stayed crouched in the corner of the cell.

At long last, I heard the familiar pattern of Kalyin's footfall as he returned. He strode in casually, looking every bit the noble drow warrior with his straight shoulders, uncaring gaze, and cocky stance. When he spoke, the pleasant tone in his voice sent a chill through me. "How is Rann? You said he was captured, held against his will. Surely you have an opinion on his current wellbeing."

"...it doesn't matter what this one thinks, or says," I replied, my own voice filled with anger and hurt. Then I went back to simply staring at the wall, unable to look at him for fear that I might lose my composure.

When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. "This... is why I do not believe you even considered me for one moment. You were so busy reveling in the pity shown to you by those in the city, that you forgot what I did for you - the risks I took, the lies I told to allow you to have your fantasy. You endured harsh looks and harsh words," he said derisively. "Dark Hunter, who has no collar, treats me better than you do."

"...you have no clue what I've done ...what I've been doing to keep people from coming after you," I said, finally tearing my gaze from the wall to peer across the cell toward him as he stood on the other side of the metal bars of my cage. "You don't get to tell me that I 'revel' in pity, when I've been working my arse off to get people to trust and, dare I say it, even respect me, despite bearing your name around my neck."

"And yet, still they come - attempting to kill me because of you. So what, exactly, are these efforts? And while you attempt to come up with something for that answer... I told you to take the collar off long ago, Vynessia. Long ago. Yet you kept it, so blaming me for it sounds hollow."

I sighed out my frustration before giving my reply. "I'm not blaming you for it. You know why I refused the first time you asked. It's only recently that I've started ...feeling ready to have it off. Jadoth even suggested I have you do it, because it would be easier, faster. The only reason I didn't come straight to you then to ask you to do it was because it would cast suspicion on both of us." Not that we had done anything wrong, I thought to myself. I just knew it would raise too many brows, and too many questions. I shook my head before continuing. "But... whatever. No, I don't ever think of you."

A long sigh was drawn out of me as I thought back to our talk earlier in Coran'zen's place. I thought maybe if I tried explaining myself again, I could get him to see reason. "I guess... earlier, back in Coran's forge... your words about removing my collar, during this visit. I was … I was anxious for it to finally be done, and instead of simply waiting for you, I went in search of you."

He cut me off, and threw my words back at me then. "...'despite bearing your name around my neck?' You used that to gain pity. To make them feel sorry for you and treat you like a fragile flower. And I am sure you did not defend me, but rather nodded with a sad, pitiful expression to draw them in and gain power over them. If nothing else, you learned quickly how to manipulate them."

He was relentless in his tirade. "Of course you are anxious now. You are caught with the real agenda. Yet once the collar is gone and you are no longer able to use me as the 'evil drow that makes your life miserable as a slave'... what will you do, I wonder?" His voice grew colder and colder as he continued. "Did you discover what happened to Sarade? Did you even bother to inquire? And the postings on the Cordor board, or the one in Heartwood Grove? Even Jadoth gives more information on happenings than you do!"

All I could do at this point was to hang my head in resignation and try to give him... something. I had never met Sarade at this point - didn't even know what she looked like, and I'd been too busy just being with Rann to try and look for her. As for the boards, I read them regularly, but most of what was on them was garbage, so I never passed on the information. I started to tell him about what I'd read recently, but he quickly cut me off.

"Oh, you think to tell me now?" His tone was icy. Amused.

I peered up toward him from my little corner of the cell, and noticed that Vance had arrived, with a slave in tow - Hart, who I'd seen around a few times before. Vance was watching me as he went to stand beside Kalyin, their voices lowered as they spoke to one another briefly. With a heavy sigh, I lowered my head back onto my knees, which were still tucked up against my chest. "It's all just... junk on the boards, Kalyin. Nothing of any consequence."

"It is not up to you to decide what I would think important!" he hissed at me, then leaned back against the wall opposite my cell. "You should have been the first one to come to me with this information, and yet you were not. One of Invrae's told me everything, already." He paused only long enough for me to let that sink in. "Did you hear what I just said, Vynessia? I have others giving me more information than you do, and they're not the lover of the Vice-Chancellor! Tell the Strifeleader what I had to ask you about, since you did not think to tell me." Kalyin shook his head at me, then pulled out a silken bag, retrieving some fruits and berries which he then began to share with Vance as they watched me.

My stomach growled in protest then. I couldn't remember when the last time I had eaten had been, due largely in part because I didn't know how long I'd been left alone in the cell before Kalyin had returned. Frustrated with my situation - tired, cold, hungry, and caged - my words came out in an exasperated protest. "...by the gods, Kalyin, what in the Hells do you think I came here to tell you in the first place?"

"Vith if I know, for I had to ask you, Eme!" he spat at me.

"I swear to..." I stopped myself before continuing. There was no sense in lashing out and angering him further. "As soon as I came through the portal into the Hub, Gnaela was all over my arse, asking questions. Vance told someone you were in a meeting, and Coran'zen pulled me off to talk!"

Vance, on the other hand, remained calm and collected. "I have known for a while now she and the Vice-Chancellor are lovers. Is this something else?" Then, almost as an afterthought, he verified to Kalyin that what I had just said was indeed true. My gut twisted in that moment as the man I hated most in the world actually stood in my defense, however briefly.

They spoke only to one another for a while, then. Kalyin explained to Vance what I had told him of Rann and others being abducted by Doctor Death, the events that had taken place in the following days, and how the vials containing the samples were now, supposedly, in the hands of the Harpers. Then he turned his silver eyes on me once more. "Tell the Strifeleader how long ago this was, Eme?"

Over the next few minutes, they went back and forth, both of them questioning me on the timeline of events as they took place in and around Cordor. It had been two, maybe three tendays since the abduction. Ruigardt had confiscated the samples from Rann a bit less than a tenday before I had come in search of Kalyin. Vance wanted to know where I'd heard of the Chancellor handing the plague samples over to the Harpers from. I told him I'd heard the man say it, himself, though he claimed not to know the identity of the one he would be handing them off to. "So not a direct transaction, but a drop point?" he asked me.

"...unless he was lying, and is a Harper agent, himself. I don't know." It was the truth. I didn't know. Would I have told them who it was if I did know? In that moment in time, I very well may have. I didn't see the point in holding anything back now, as it was too late to do anything about it.

"It is possible," he said with a soft frown. He drummed his fingers against his obsidian staff before turning to Kalyin. "I will be back shortly."



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I watched as Vance turned away and walked back down the hallway, past the other cells and out of the holding area. Hart followed along behind him. All was silent for a few moments, then I heard Kalyin's voice again.

He asked me why Gnaela believed I was a spy for the surface. I told him she'd been a customer of Rann's and knew I worked for him, as well as the fact he was Vice-Chancellor. Of course she thought I was a spy, especially after seeing me in the Hub. Then he asked if I knew she was working as go-between, and I reminded him I'd already told him so myself, some time before.

"Actually, Gnaela told me that before you did. It seems everyone tells me what you should be telling me, cycles before you do. Interesting, would you not say?"

I sighed and rubbed my face in frustration. "You seemed amused when I told you about it," I muttered.

"Indeed. Care to guess why, knowing that I already knew?" he asked me, his voice deadly calm.

I shook my head and lowered my gaze to the floor as I tucked my arms tighter around my knees. "I honestly have no clue what goes through your mind, anymore."

"It is simple, really," he told me, his voice growing louder by the moment - his tone growing cold again. "I expected that after all I did for you, that you would take two vithing moments to at the very least send a messenger to warn me..." the crescendo of his anger made his voice boom and echo all throughout the lower level of the building, "...that the vithing Harpers have a vithing PLAGUE!"

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than do be able to just curl up into a ball and disappear. Here I was, being berated for not providing information to Kalyin - and by extension to Andunor, since he was the city's Trade Minister. Yet up in Cordor, I knew it was the exact opposite; I was suspected of being a spy for Andunor, and providing all sorts of information. I had tried so hard to keep my two lives - my life Above, and my life Below - separate, to avoid suspicions just like this from either side. Now it was all crashing down around me.

"Well, when they use it, I am pleased to say... you will be right here to partake in the festivities." It took me a couple of moments to realize what he meant - he intended to keep me in Andunor, to ensure that if it was hit by this new plague, I would be there, and be made to suffer through it as punishment. Slowly, I turned my eyes to him once more, but couldn't find the words to speak.

He smiled at me then - not the smile I had come to adore in those precious times we had shared when alone together. No, this was a cold, brutal smile full of malicious intent. "I am... annoyed with you, Vynessia," he said, the tone of his voice somehow both pleasant and icy. "Do you know what happened to the last one that annoyed me? I arranged to destroy her House. Then, with the approval of the Temple, and witnessed by a High Priestess of Lolth - I murdered her."

I froze in place, my mind reeling at what he had just hinted at - that those who annoyed him wound up dead, by his hands. And now I was on that list.

"You want to be a spy for Cordor? Mmm, that is not what you really are. For you, my Vynessia," the smile he gave me then was bitingly cold, "are a spy for the Church of Cyric and the Devil's Table council. You are here," he gestured all around us, then, "to protect you from Cordor, for this information was so important that you had to break your cover as Rann's lover and 'friend to Cordor' to warn us. Congratulations - and job well done."

I was stunned. Slowly, I lifted my head up to look toward the ceiling, as if my gaze could penetrate not just the ceiling and the upper floors of the district house, but the vast barrier of stone and earth that separated me from the life I'd been living on the surface. My voice when I spoke was emotionless, monotone. "...and you, of course, are going to make sure that is exactly what they will hear. How very... you."

"This is who I always was, Vynessia. I have not had to be this since Narcelia made her mistake. You have forced me to revisit my past - a past where I had decades to perfect my ability to play the Great Game. I have brought down Houses, Vynessia. You... are a tiny thing in comparison."

A chill went down my spine, and I closed my eyes as a shudder coursed through my body.

"You may hold hope that, perhaps, you might escape. Or perhaps they will come to steal you, as they did Sarade, and remove that collar." His grin was wicked. "Yet trust that, in the back of their minds, every single moment there will be that nagging doubt of your loyalty."

"...if you really think so very little of me, Kalyin, then you know absolutely nothing at all about me," I replied resignedly before falling silent once more.

Footsteps were heard coming back into the holding area, then. It was Vance, returning - now with two slaves, Hart and an elf I'd never seen before. "How is it going?" he asked Kalyin as he strode up to stand beside the drow.

"I was just thanking our spy in Cordor for her information, and telling her she was right to break her cover to bring us this information," he told Vance, with an unmistakable hint of amusement in his tone.

The elven slave - Ceviran, I was to learn his name later - shifted his gaze over to me appraisingly as Vance and Kalyin spoke about me. Instead of meeting the elf's gaze, I once again let my head fall forward to rest against my knees.

Kalyin's voice pulled my attention once again. "I know you were enjoying playing Rann to think you liked him. We will find you another to play with, soon enough."

Then it was Vance who spoke next. "Why? It would be more beneficial were Emelina to pry out this 'agent' from the Chancellor's close circle, or those nearby him." He lifted a brow, glancing from Kalyin to me, and back again. Gods, I hated him so much right then. It was the third time this visit that he had spoken up for me - if not precisely in my favor, then at least to my advantage. I couldn't help but despise him all the more for it.

The two of them lowered their voices to speak with one another then. Vance let out a chuckle, then quickly quieted it. He quickly resumed a more serious demeanor then, as Kalyin went to speak again. "Vynessia… it is vitally important that we find out who has these plague samples. Name, description, any and all information you can learn of them."

He pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning against and glided over to my cell door in one fluid, graceful motion. He inserted a key into the lock and turned it, the rolling and clicking of the tumblers echoing softly through the holding area. "Come, do not make poor Hart have to drag you out."

My body ached with stiffness from having sat so long on the stone floor in that cold, damp cell. Eventually I was able to drag myself to my feet, though my eyes did not rise from the stones they stood upon. With tired, heavy steps I trudged my way over toward the door of the cell, stopping just shy of leaving the cage. Kalyin stood there, barring my way.

His tone as he leaned in to speak to me was soft, like a gentle caress meant to soothe me. "Prove me wrong," he said, his words sounding almost like a prayer in that moment. It came to me suddenly that he didn't want to believe I had betrayed him - that he needed to be reassured, somehow, that he was wrong. The realization hit me like I'd been slammed into a brick wall. I said nothing in return, though, and simply stood there at his side like a cowed, obedient slave.

He turned away then, stepping off to leave the holding area. "Come, I will let you out," he said in a more conversational tone, as if everything that had taken place here had been nothing more than a casual talk. My feet, as if on instinct, followed in the wake own his own steps. "And Vynessia... in the future, you have my permission to tell Gnaela to vith off."

"We should all leave this dungeon in favor of the house," I heard Vance say ahead of me, as he turned to walk by Kalyin's side. Then there was a touch of amusement in his voice as he said, "To Emelina's credit, she held her nerves well under that woman's tirade of complaints. I nearly lost it."

My eyes darted to the man as he spoke the words, and fixated somewhere around the base of his spine. It was infuriating hearing him speak in my favor, yet again - even if it was only to prompt Kalyin to squeeze some further use out of me. Yet, at the same time I realized that had he not, Kalyin would have very likely put me in restraints to keep me from returning to the surface. It would have been more than I could handle, I knew, being prevented from returning to Rann's side. But instead of being chained and leashed to Kalyin for punishment, I was being let loose again. And it was because of Vance.

I had never hated anyone so much in my life as I did him at that moment in time.



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I told Rann everything, after I was finally allowed to leave. I hide nothing from him - ever. He was more troubled over the way Kalyin treated me than anything I'd told them. All of the information I'd shared with them was already known by quite a few people - both Above and Below - aside from the identity of the one who Ruigardt handed the plague samples off to. Aside from them being a supposed Harper, I didn't know anyway. I hadn't revealed any great "state secrets".

Not long after my ...interrogation, the situation in Cordor came to a head. A lot of things happened in a very short period of time. I was far too busy with trying to keep Rann safe in the turmoil that was erupting around him. There was betrayal from a member of our company, Minex Mercantile; Rann's forced resignation from the Vice-Chancellor's seat; the removal of my collar at long last; the realization that Rann actually still held sway over the political field in Cordor; his dismissal of Ruigardt as Chancellor, as well as that of his entire Cabinet; Rann's announcement he was taking charge as Interim Chancellor, his assassination less then a tenday later, and the ensuing election afterward; and finally, our exiles imposed on us without so much as a thought for a trial or true justice. All of this happened within the span of a couple of months.

It sent us reeling.

It tried us both, in ways we could never have imagined.

Most importantly, it drove us closer to one another and forever cemented our relationship with one another. We've gained more friends - true friends - during our exiles than we ever had before. The kind of friends you can count on in bad times, as well as good. All in all, we've weathered this storm together far better than anyone could have imagined we would.

...and yet, I've become bitter - cynical, even - in matters pertaining to Cordor. I try to avoid conversations revolving around that city, and those involved with all that happened to us. I try. But it's hard to avoid them when other people are constantly bringing it up, or when accusations and insults about us are being flung about even now - years later - in the streets of Cordor and people come to us to ask what really went down.

The truth we reveal - our truth - is never what they expect it to be.
Active character(s): Emelina Selizar - A Slave No More

Others: Shea Webber (Retired and wandering the wilds with her beloved Xellree)

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Dragonfyre
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Location: East coast, USA

Re: A Slave No More

Post by Dragonfyre » Mon Dec 03, 2018 5:45 am

As I sit here now, writing this, it's the beginning of a new year - 145 by Arelith Reckoning. It was just a couple of short months ago that Rann's exile and mine - along with most others - were lifted by the current Chancellor of Cordor, Freja Stillwater. During the hearing in which the exiles were lifted, it was admitted by the Vice-Chancellor, Katharyn, that the charges and accusations against Rann and myself would never have stood up in court. Perhaps that is why we were never allowed a trial. It would have shown just how corrupt Cordor's government had become, that they would smear the reputations and ruin the lives of people innocent of any crimes just so that they could keep carrying on with their agenda.

It hurt, having to leave everything we had built up behind. Each new tale we heard from our friends still in Cordor was like another stab in the heart. Stories of our friends and loved ones being mocked and ridiculed simply for being associated with us trickled their way down the proverbial grapevine to us time and again. One particular person we once called "friend" openly slandered us and bragged about having taken up ownership of what was once Rann's. My brother was mercilessly hunted in the streets by their goons, for months on end. Anyone who spoke out against them was vilified and harassed until they either gave up and left, were forced out of the city, or crumbled under the pressure. All the while, those in power had the gall to call us tyrants.

Our exile from Cordor was a defining moment in our lives. We didn't sit idly by and let the accusations stand unanswered against us. Instead, we told our story to those who would listen, made many new friends and allies who supported us, and started rebuilding our lives away from the caustic environment embedded in the city we once called home. To fully understand just how much of what was told about us was simply wrong, that story must be told from the very beginning.


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When I first came to Cordor, everything was a new experience for me. I'd never been allowed to roam so freely before, yet here I was - wandering the streets of a city teeming with life and possibility. They even elected a half-orc, the former guard Corporal Augustin Dish, as Chancellor. It wasn't like Andunor, where one has to be on constant guard, looking around every corner and watching their back constantly for threats. Up here, people were open and friendly with one another. It was a stark change from my life Below, but one which I slowly began to grow accustomed to, over time.

Even while wearing the collar with Kalyin's name emblazoned upon it, I was able to start making a name for myself. I helped out whenever and wherever I could - from helping guards make sense of clues left behind at crime scenes, to working the farms and tending to damaged plants after a devastating attack had threatened to destroy the city's crops. Thanks to Rann, my work in the farmlands drew the attention of Trade Minister Gerin, as well as that of Lord and Lady Waynolt, who had been made caretakers of the farmlands by the city. After speaking with Gerin, and meeting the Waynolts some few days later, I began to realize that maybe - just maybe - there really was hope that I would come to be accepted in Cordor.

But for every up, there is a down. Soon after finishing up with mending the plants in the farmlands, another tragedy struck Cordor in the form of the plague which later came to be called the Renor Blight. I offered my services as both herbalist and tailor to the Winter's Rest Clinic, though nothing came of it as, soon after, I was recalled to Andunor via summoning by Kalyin. I was to join him, along with Vance, Idil'vas, and the Bone Witch as they ventured to Cordor's sewers to perform a ritual. The intent of the ritual, I was told, was to make the plague "burn bright and hot" - an attempt, as I understood it, to make it run its course as quickly as possible in order to minimize its spread, and potentially prevent it from reaching Andunor.

I wasn't in a position to refuse being taken along, so I did as told and simply stood guard once we arrived at the ritual site. Most of what was said during the ritual was spoken in Abyssal, a language on which I had only a very limited grasp in understanding at the time. We were there for some time, their work going on uninterrupted, before a voice was heard out in the corridor outside of the chamber we were in. Kalyin and I went to investigate while the others continued on with the ritual, though I kept to the shadows while following him. There in the corridor stood an elven woman, who had apparently heard the demonic words being spoken within the chamber and had stopped to investigate. As Kalyin engaged her in conversation, seeking to stall her, I kept an eye on the sewer passages to ensure no others were inbound.

All seemed clear until, as I returned to his side, the elven woman made a sudden break for it and ran off. Knowing this meant she was off to warn others of the presence of a drow (and others) in the sewers, Kalyin bade Vance and the others to finish up their work as quickly as possible, and to be ready in case of attack. He positioned me outside the chamber door and told me to be on guard, then he went off in the direction which the elven woman had run. Before long, I heard the sounds of battle taking place. As the chamber was at the end of a corridor with only one way out, I decided to sneak down the passageway to see what I could.

When I arrived at the closest intersection of the sewer tunnels, I saw Kalyin and Black Cobra engaged in battle, with bodies piling up around them. He hadn't called to me to join him, so I stayed in place to watch and be ready. Only a few moments later, the sounds of battle died away into silence. Then I heard him say my name - Vynessia. He called me to him and told me he tried to stop Black Cobra, but was not fast enough. His serpentine companion had lashed out and attacked Rann, whose body lay still and lifeless just around the corner from where we stood.

With a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, I went to gather up Rann. My head was reeling with thoughts as I cradled his lifeless form in my arms and tried to figure out what to do, where to take him so that I might pray for him to be returned to life. The city above us was in the grips of the plague, and I didn't want to have him returned to life only to be stricken by its sickness. Andunor was obviously out of the question. There was only one alternative I could think of at the moment, and time was running out. I knew more of Cordor's people would likely be on the way to deal with the Underdark presence in the sewers, and as I carried Rann back toward the chamber where the ritual was drawing to completion, I heard Kalyin say he would call forth a leyline junction so we could all make our escape.

Right as he was doing just that, voices were heard nearing our position. Kalyin called for Vance and the rest to hurry as the portal came into being, then he turned to me and told me to see to Rann. As he made his way back to the others to help them fend off more of Cordor's defenders, I wrapped my arms tighter around Rann's body and made my way through the portal to the only place that made sense at the moment. The dark mirror of the city above us, on the Shadow Plane - Shadow Cordor.

As soon as my feet touched down on the raised stone platform where the leyline juncture is found in the temple district, I began making my way to the Temple of Mask. It was a short walk, and I quickly carried Rann inside to the altar of the Lord of Shadows. Still cradling his limp body in my arms, I bowed my head in prayer, begging my Lord to restore him to life and send him back to me. It seemed an eternity, but eventually I felt him begin to stir as he took his first ragged breaths again. Overcome with emotion, I could feel tears streaming down my face as I continued to hold him in my arms, trying to comfort him in any way I could while he labored to recover.

Only once I was sure he was back on the mend did I dare to leave his side, and only for a few moments. I went to check and make sure I wasn't followed, and that we were the only ones in the temple at the time. A few moments later, I came back to find him staring around the temple with a sort of scholarly curiosity. It was obvious he'd never been to this place before, so I informed him of exactly where we were. That I had chosen this particular temple to bring him to in order to have him revived was not lost on him. He gave me a look as if to ask if I served the one this temple was dedicated to. My only answer was to give him a nod in silence. There was no judgement from him about my faith then, or ever.

Just as we were preparing to make our way out of the temple, I heard the doors open. It was someone I'd not yet met before, but she walked in with an air of authority about her, then informed Rann that he was being summoned to the guard barracks in Cordor for questioning by the Commander, Celestia Merlin. He and I exchanged looks for the briefest of moments, mine full of worry met by reassurance from his. The three of us returned to Cordor shortly after, and she took him away to speak with the guard commander.



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Later, he told me that when I had stepped out for those few, brief moments in the temple, Celestia had scried for him. It was known that he had taken part in the first attempt to rout the Underdark presence from the sewers, yet his was the only body not recovered of those who had fallen. They didn't know if he had escaped or been captured, so an attempt was made to find him. When he was scried in the Temple of Mask, of all places, it cast an extraordinary amount of suspicion on him - and all of it my fault. He never blamed me for it, though; not even when rumors began flying about him being a follower of Mask, thanks in no small part to Celestia openly saying such about him.

It was a rumor, founded on false assumptions, which would follow him for years to come. It also played a major part in the falling out between him and Ruigardt Raskopf during that man's term as Chancellor, and was used as the primary basis for which Ruigardt forced Rann out of the Vice Chancellor seat. Taking Rann's body to the Temple of Mask, though it seemed the only solution at the time, was one of the biggest mistakes I made, in hindsight. Though it is one I will always regret, it gave him a deeper understanding of who I was, at the time - and a way for him to begin guiding me out of the shadows and into the light, just as he was leading me from a life in the Underdark to a better life Above.
Active character(s): Emelina Selizar - A Slave No More

Others: Shea Webber (Retired and wandering the wilds with her beloved Xellree)

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