In the sinister meanders of south Ekia, among the monasteries of beggars, where the echoes of pain and the smell of desperation hovered like a heavy shroud, a macabre trade thrives
Deep in these monastic halls, where prayers whispered like desperate pleas in the void, the clanking of chains and the shuffling of chained feet marked the passage of the slaves. Prisoners torn from their homes, from the streets or simply sold by their families, prisoners whose lives were now nothing more than commodities in the eyes of their captors, marched in a somber procession. Heading to the central market of the Serpent Kingdom, where their fates would be sealed by the cold jingle of coins and the callous gaze of their new masters, their journey was one of silent suffering and broken dreams.
The beggars received a message carried on the wings of a pigeon, a harbinger of news from the neutral lands. In the sacred halls of the mendicant monasteries, where the air was filled with the scent of incense and penance, the arrival of this messenger aroused fear
The message it carried spoke of terrible news from the nearby continent of Dekia, a now desolate land, untouched by the factions because it was plagued 5 years ago by the second of the deads. Sentinels sent to Dekia had come across tracks, ominous signs that heralded the resurgence of a long-dormant plague: the Awakening Disease.
Whispers spread like wildfire among the beggars, their hushed tones emanating a deep-seated fear gnawing at their hearts.The Awakening disease was no mere affliction of the flesh, but a malevolent force that preyed upon the very essence of one's being, twisting mind and soul until nothing remained but an empty shell of madness and despair.
As the specter of this ancient plague loomed ever closer, casting its shadow across the land, the beggars found themselves faced with a choice: heed the warning and prepare for the dark days ahead, or turn a blind eye and continue the their dirty business, the relentless slave trade.
obviously they were only interested in business.
In the underground cells, once they received the news, many beggars laughed as if it were normal... one of them said that Dekia has now been an uninhabitable place for years and that the second of the dead has completely destroyed any possibility of life in that place .
The beggar took the ax and started cutting limbs off a lizard man, "don't worry they will regrow you and we will sell your limbs" laughing while that being was suffering enormously
Among the labyrinthine corridors of the ancient monasteries, where the shadows danced with malevolent joy and the air was thick with the weight of desperation, a solitary beggar came across at the top of the tower, where no one could reach, a "newborne", naked and devoid of senses, lying on the ground in a fetal position
"that smells bad"
The boy is shrouded in darkness and an aura of terror, a foul miasma that recalled the very essence of the goddess of corruption, a scent that spoke of ancient evils
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As the beggar approached, their hearts heavy with trepidation, they could feel the tentacles of the aura reaching out from the boy
Cautiously, the beggar takes the boy, gives him a beggar's clothes and takes him inside
With each passing moment, the beggar could feel the chill of the boy's touch seep into his very bones, an icy grip that threatened to drag him into the abyss.
the beggar knew he was at a crossroads: sell this prized commodity and make a fortune or make him his personal slave.
And so, with trembling hands, the beggar made his decision, a decision that would shape the fate not only of the boy, but of the entire kingdom.
He takes a dagger and decides to proceed with a third option, killing that abomination that emits an aura of corruption.
As he is about to slit his throat he suddenly stops
"you should obey the orders of the southern lords, idiot"
the beggar falls dead on the ground , while the mysterious figure, wearing a dark cloak, takes the boy and puts him in the cart that will arrive at the central slave market of the kingdom.
Meanwhile, in the opposite part of the monastery a curious beggar, clad in tattered robes and with a weathered face etched with lines of wisdom and hardship, sat cross-legged upon a threadbare rug with his eyes fixed upon a book cradled in his hands.
The book, weathered and worn from years of handling, told the tale of the ancient family Twinquetz, rulers of the lands of south of Ekia. As the beggar traced his fingers over the faded pages, he delved into the rich tapestry of history that had shaped the destiny of House Twinquetz.
At the heart of the family's legacy stood the symbol of an oroboro, an ancient emblem of eternity and renewal. It was said that the oroboro represented the cyclical nature of life and the eternal quest for balance in the world. For generations, House Twinquetz rule was marked by prosperity and stability.
Yet, it was not merely the history of House Twinquetz that captured the beggar's attention, but the enigmatic figure who currently reigned over their lands: Queen Leda. Her name echoed through the annals of time like a whispered promise, her rule shrouded in mystery and intrigue.
As the beggar immersed himself in the lore of House Twinquetz, he couldn't help but wonder about the queen who bore the name of their realm. What secrets lay hidden behind her regal facade? What trials had she faced on her journey to the throne?
Scrolling through the pages of the book, he discovers the parents of the current sovereign: Chillma, the mother who died after giving birth, and Xatl, king of the anacondas, who died 5 years ago in the battle of the red moon, leaving his young daughter in charge of the lands.
Something strange capture the attention of the beggar... the mother did not belong to any noble house, her lineage is unknown
"stop reading and come help me with the slaves, lazy idiot"
The clandestine market operated under the streets of Leda's capital, hidden from the prying eyes of the authorities. It was a labyrinth of hidden passages and hidden alcoves, where whispers of forbidden transactions echoed through the dimly lit corridors.
When the light of dawn began to paint the sky with shades of gold, the first carts loaded with goods rumbled into the underground market. These were not mere goods for sale, but living souls bound by chains of oppression and desperation. Slaves of every race and origin, captured from distant lands or born into slavery, were auctioned off.
Among the buyers were wealthy merchants and powerful sorcerers, looking for laborers, concubines or subjects for dark experiments.