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Message: <blockquote data-quote="ExDis" data-source="post: 888678" data-attributes="member: 10799">Adventures Beyond the Edge - Jaresh's JournalJaresh's Journal - Entry ThreeThe slavers definitely preferred that we watch our feet at all times. They actively discouraged us, through the application of various whips and other such implements, from raising our heads - making any attempts at communication very difficult. Despite all this, through careful and discreet observation I was able to ascertain that I was chained in line between a brandobian gentleman and an older fellow whose origins I could not discern. Shortly after our time on the platform, we were led through the city, and onto another ship. The city itself was breathtaking, so many buildings, and so many people, all in one place. It was grand and dirty and inscrutable, bustling with activity. I found it overwhelming; it was at the same time fascinating and intimidating. I was mildly relieved to be led onto the ship, whereupon we were taken down to a large room (they called it a "hold"), and chained individually to a large low wooden beam running the length of the room. Once they were satisfied that we were secure, one of the slavers gruffly informed us that "this'll be gooin a loot eas'yer oon ye if'n ye make noo trooble", and left us, locking the door behind himself with a heavy metallic click. I spend a few moments trying to decode the slaver's message, before my thoughts turned to my companions, who I was now free to observe. The brandobian to my right seemed to prefer his own company, minimally reponding to my overture - he seemed very preoccupied with a pair of elves chained further down. He appeared to be somewhat older than the rest of us, and I wondered briefly how such an obviously educated man had come to share our fate. I also wondered at the barely concealed hatred in his eyes as he glared at the tree people - clearly this was a man to be wary of. The slave to my left also appeared to be somewhat older the rest of us, and where we generally looked hardy and fit, he appeared somewhat soft and frail. He was also clearly terrified of the slavers, and would not raise his head in their presence. However, once thay had gone, I was able to speak with him briefly. He related, in a furitive voice, that he was the main reason that this ship had been chartered. He said that he was an enchanter by trade, who had been captured in a "house raid" and sold to a noble whose name he did not know, for a vast sum. This noble, he told me, intended to use his talents in the creation of magical items for the purpose of gaining advantage over his political adversaries, and had arranged for the use of this ship in order to speed his arrival. I must have seemed incredulous, for he briefly became agitated, jerking down the collar of his ragged tunic to reveal a fine silver chain, tight around his neck, and insisting that I look at it. It was, he explained conspiratorially, a charm to prevent the casting of spells. Although I didn't say so at the time, it did not appear exceptional to me, except in the fact that it was around a slave's neck. He went on for several more minutes, becoming less and less coherent, before finally sputtering to silence. I considered whether his claims could have any merit. Though it was true that the slavers did seem to pay a bit more mind to his welfare, without showing anything remotely resembling actual kindness, of course, I thought it more likely that the fear and strain of his situation had somehow damaged his mind, and he had invented his story to somehow protect himself. In any case, enchanter or not, he was here, chained to the beam with the rest of us. When you are chained in place in the hold, the days onboard a ship are interminable. In fact, as there were no windows, we could never be sure what time it really was. The elves spent their time softly singing a mournful song together. My command of their tongue is poor, but I was able to make out a bit of the story - apparently the song, which went on for some three days without reaching any conclusion that I could detect, told the tale of an elven princess who fell in love with a mortal man. They had a long and fruitful life together, dealing as best they could with the prejudices of their races against each other. He reached the end of his days and passed beyond late in the first night of singing. She spent the next two days of the performance watching successive generations of her offspring living out their natural lives from the confines of the elven court, and yearning for the touch of her lost husband. It was beautifully performed, in multi-voice minor key harmony with a rythm that matched that of the ship itself, but its interminable length became annoying. The brandobian gentleman had tried, within minutes of their starting, to shout them to silence, and was temporarily successful, as his yelling brought the slavers. They struck him several times as a reminder that thay preferred silence, and then left, locking the door behind them again. The elves promptly resumed their song. The brandobian looked as if he was being slowly roasted, but did not yell again.As the elves recounted their princess' seventeenth generation's accomplishments, and her simultaneous satisfaction at their goodliness and sorrow at the absence of those who had gone before, what appeared to be a giant rock flew through the wall of the hold. It took one of the elves with it out the other side, to everyone's shocked relief. The brandobian cheered wildly, and the enchanter didn't seem to notice - he had been sleeping a lot. We had heard some sort of growing commotion above, and the motion of the ship had changed, but noone had expected anything like this to happen. Immediately thereafter, another rock ripped through the hold, this one missing the slaves, but leaving two more holes in the ship as it entered and exited. Through those holes, those that were close enough could see that the sea was angry and the sky was unnaturally dark. Those on the side of the ship from which the rocks had come reported being able to see a black ship in the distance, closing fast.It seemed entirely likely that more rocks would be coming, and riding one out the other side of the ship elvenstyle was not an appealing prospect. Our chains were attached to the beam by way of large bolts, and over the course of our journey, I had worried at mine until it began to move a bit. There was clearly no more time for that, so I braced my feet and pulled as hard as I could. And it moved! At that moment, the door to the hold flew open, and slavers and crewmen rushed in. The first in pointed my way and said "thar, that's tha one, gat him!" While the crewmen surveyed the holes in the ship, three burly slavers rushed over, grabbed the supposed enchanter to my left, unchained him, and carried him from the hold; the sailors left right behind them, worriedly exclaiming that "the ship is doomed". I slumped over the beam to hide my progress towards freedom. In the commotion, I heard a voice from outside ask in a commanding fashion, what was to be done with the other slaves. The reply was chilling in its simplicity - "nothing". No more time to waste! I braced my feet and pulled as hard as I could; twisting and turning I was slowly able to work the bolt out of the wood. Once I had freed myself, I saw that the brandobian was also trying, so I helped him - it went much faster with two people pulling. I freed several other slaves, and those freed others, and in a few minutes we were all free. Water was beginning to splash in through the holes in the hull - this ship would not continue to float much longer. The brandobian, who had introduced himself as Tyran, looked out through one of the holes, and saw a lifeboat being prepared. Our first thought was to climb up and take it, but the side of the ship offered no handholds. We decided then to wait until it was lowered into the sea, and take it there. One of the other slaves found a cluster of barrels under a tarp at the back of the hold. These were determined to be full of water, and emptied to make floats. The brandobian and I chained a few of them together, and flung them out a hole on the side away from the approaching ship. We, and several of the other slaves, followed them out and clung to them in the water, as we awaited the lifeboat.It arrived a few moments later. In it were two sailors and three passengers - two of which were grossly overweight, but wore clothing of rich fabric and jewelry of heavy gold. The other passenger, a red haired man with a rapier at his side, asked a question of one of the sailors, and I recognised his voice as being the one which had earlier expressed concern over the plight of the slaves in the hold. Tyran and I, by mutual agreement, floated low in the water, playing dead and waiting for the boat to move within reach. Our plan was, if not compromised then complicated, when one of our companions in the slave hold, a young woman, clambered atop the barrel raft and crouched, evidently preparing for an assault on the lifeboat. It struck me as odd that she had somehow managed to obtain a dagger of some sort, and yet had also lost or misplaced her undergarments - a fact that, given our relative positions, I could not help but notice. I averted my eyes briefly in respect of her modesty, but what was happening on the lifeboat was too important, and I needed to watch so as not to miss my opportunity. Which never came. The red haired man saw the woman, and just like in the elves' song, their eyes met, and his heart melted, and he motioned her aboard, raising much argument from the boat's other occupants. It was she who insisted that the barrels be lashed to the boat and towed along, and the red haired man made it so. The brandobian and I stayed where we were, clinging to the barrels in the water, biding our time with a few other refugees. Happily, the sailors chose well, and were strong rowers. We made landfall sometime that night.</blockquote>

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