There’s little to do while being hauled away after being beaten, humiliated and kidnapped.
[Your Class [Vital Brawler] has reached lvl 52-> 58, +4 Free Points, +10 Endurance, +6 Speed, +8 Might, +2 Dexterity, +2 Mana, +2 Focus.]
[Your class Skill [Life Affinity] has reached lvl 50 -> 56.]
[Your class Skill [Quicken Regeneration has reached lvl 41->50.]
[Your class Skill [Power Burst] has reached lvl 43->57.]
[Your class Skill [Brawling] has reached lvl 33->41.]
[The general Skill [Manaforged] has reached lvl 42->52.]
[The general Skill [Instincts] has reached lvl 18 ->23.]
[The general Skill [Pain Tolerance] has reached lvl 28->37.]
[The general Skill [Running] has reached lvl 32 ->36.]
I find it a bit ironic that my most rapid advancement comes from getting chased, beaten and lashed… Is it me or my Class that’s fucked up? Or both?
I can’t even enjoy the bliss of getting a bunch of levels at once as the feeling disappears in the forest of worry and weakness.
Whatever, the points will help me massively to weather this and the Skill progress reflects just how out of my depth I was back then. I doubt those numbers will change anytime soon though, we are slaves now, or about to become slaves, we don’t fight and even if we do we don’t choose whom and when.
Well, I’m not going to obey, that’s for sure. Fuckers can beat me over and over again but what good will that do? Oh no, it’ll max my Skills out, hehe. I don’t like getting beaten to be clear, I just don’t mind getting hit and if it even benefits me then bring it on. Still NOT enjoying it, I’m not a weirdo.
“Hey Bria.” I call out to my bestie sitting beside me, leaning against the cage bars.
“What?” She snorts.
“Do you think we might get a decent owner? Like, there must be rich humans who aren’t total assholes, right?” I start talking about something less depressing.
“Hah, dream on, there sure are people like that, just not where we’re going.” She swats my head. “Let’s just try to stick together, that’s the most we can do. Looking at their levels our chance of escaping is slim to none.” The mood turns sour as soon as she says that.
Bria is one of the only people in the tribe with darker hair. Most of us have white, blonde, blue or even purple hair while hers is dark brown. It’s a bit weird but goes nicely with her gray eyes. She was one of the promising future ranged hunters in our age group, although…does that even matter anymore?
“Who do you think is worth the most of us?” I let my thoughts escape my mouth.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” She asks slowly as if not believing her ears. “How can you think of something like that? That such an improper thing to ask, what happened to your conscience?”
“The what?” I try to joke, only earning the stink eye.
“You might be one of the most expensive ones whitey.” Says an ugly human warrior walking alongside us. “Your looks and fiery persona make you a rare treat, the only drawback is that you’re a bit too young.” He answers my question.
“Nobody asked you.” I spit his way.
He needs to shut the fuck up, let us have at least this much privacy.
“Hahaha see, this attitude raises your value. Some nobles have a thing for breaking in their slaves, seeing that flame of defiance in their eyes slowly go out.” He leans closer and grins at me. “The most expensive one is that boy without a doubt.” He points at Bron. “Handsome to the extent I want to ruin his face, the right age and a potent fighter. A true jackpot.”
Bron is sixteen and indeed quite a treat to the eyes. Blonde and blue on his face, tall, a well-worked body and a certain mysterious charm. But what kind of pot is he talking about? He’s on the hunter team already but stayed back this time due to an injury so he doesn't know how to make any pots.
So he’s saying I’m close behind in value to him? Bron wasn’t even visited by the goat, the only reason I can’t hand him his ass in a fight is because he’s older so that means… they don’t know.
“I’d love to have him too.” Bria blurts out with dreamy eyes. Her heart is in control right now, all logic has left on a trip to the Abyss.
“How nice of you to share this with us. I’ll make sure to look like a walking corpse so you won't be able to sell me.” I taunt the man.
“Oh, the ignorant youth… Do you think the experienced buyers won't be able to discern your value just because of poor acting?” He laughs. “Most of you won’t even be sold here in this cold barren shithole. There’s more money to be earned on the main continent, that’s where you’ll find your new home.” He snickers.
***
Once we arrived in a human city we were treated like some sort of rare animals by the people, often viewed with apparent disgust. They put metal rings around our necks, collars with magical properties, and forced us to put our marks on some papers. All those who resisted were beaten up or starved until they could resist no longer to then mark the paper with a drop of blood. It… it took something.
We tried to break the collars any way we could think of; smashing, melting, cutting, but nothing worked. The only consistent outcome was a strong electric shock running through our bodies and paralyzing us, just like the ones we experienced when the orders weren't followed or we tried to attack any of the slavers. This was a Slave Collar, a tool meant to force captives like us to obey and keep our spirits broken. Sometimes they even put shackles on us, the things siphoning our mana so we wouldn't be able to use any Skills, making even the passive ones shut down. They kept us locked in buildings with bars called prisons, barren and hostile rooms with nothing but us and despair within their walls.
They didn’t keep us there for long, though.
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About a fifth of us, the weakest ones, got sold as labor slaves before the rest were hauled onto a massive ship and locked below its deck, away from the light. They fed us barely anything, no meat, no vegetables, only something bland and flavorless they call bread. It tasted like tree bark.
None of us had been out on the water ever before and our bodies didn’t take well to the constant wobbliness of the ground so we threw up back to back, losing even the little food they gave us. The journey was long and many of us got sick during the voyage due to the lack of fresh air, light, proper meals and the will to live, to be honest. They healed us of course, losing goods wouldn’t have been acceptable but that only left us more miserable, unable to even pass away on our own terms when there was nothing to live for anymore.
***
The new land where the ship docked and where we were finally allowed to step under the watchful eye of Solaire was not all that different from our home. Cold, and mountainous although to a lesser extent than the harsh lands of Koleth, this was Norlan. If I had the right to choose where to spend my days as a slave then that one would’ve been high up on the list, although still below our tribe’s mountain no matter how much better the climate was. The land was similar yet the people, the language, the communities, beasts, smells… everything was so different. The new sensations weren't too difficult to get used to but as the people spoke around us and we didn't understand a single word... only then did it really sink in how foreign the new lands were to us.
We had little time to accustom ourselves to this new realm because just days after disembarking the ship we were loaded onto carriages again and hauled away from the sea, to the east. As it later turned out along the journey, the land we arrived in was poor and the local laws discouraged the slave trade, not like that stopped anyone from buying a few of my brothers and sisters, thinning our numbers even further.
We fought back, holding onto each other and resisting the scourge upon the world that is the human race, except… it was all futile. We were laughably outclassed yet they didn’t even need to move a finger, the collars did the work for them.
I got accustomed to it, the electrocution, as I defied all orders and attacked every time one of the slavers so much as touched me. They, of course, realized how resilient I was and adjusted the punishment delivered by the collar with a few simple moves. It got worse, more potent yet my stance didn’t change. I mainly did this to train my Skills more than anything, in hopes of escaping one day or standing my ground against the collar when it really mattered.
After many days spent in the rattling carriage, wandering across the cold lands of Norlan, the weather got warmer and warmer until we arrived at what I can only guess was the territory of some other humans. I learned some of the local human words along the way, however, it was not enough to keep track of the conversation.
Just days after arriving in the warmer lands we were put up for sale, dragged and chained in front of a large crowd, all of us one by one. The people observing us like pieces of meat splurged with music playing in the background as our fates were decided… We were entertainment. A disgusting place. Offers were being made one after the other for beasts, materials, weapons, and us, people.
When it was my turn I pretended to be already broken, unresponsive, hoping to avoid getting bought by a sadistic bastard and becoming a toy. It was weird and unsettling, people looking at you with eyes judging your value nothing more. Bids started flying pretty soon except the quickly rising numbers didn’t bring any joy to my heart.
Okay, maybe a little. It was nice to get some recognition, even from trash like that.
The worst part about all of this was that the rest of us, the people of Snowstorm, got separated down to the last person. We didn’t even try to fight back this time, we just accepted our fate.
Not me though.
“Never give up!” I shouted. “Our time will come, never lose hope! Never forget who you are!” The guards were approaching me and the collar worked its magic, however, I was not finished. “I swear on all that I hold dear that I’ll free us as long as I breathe. I’ll-!”
I wasn’t able to finish my declaration as the collar forced me to my knees and the guards of the auction house piled on me, holding me down and gagging my mouth. It was fine, the message had been delivered.
Those weren’t just empty words… I always keep my promises.
***
My new owner turned out to be something called a brothel. It was an establishment where they dressed me in uncomfortable and revealing clothes, which in itself should be considered torture, and told me to serve the customers. By that time I spoke the language a little and a kind lady was able to tell me my duty.
I wanted to kill the person who came up with a profession like this and that desire burning hot ever since. Selling your body… Weirdly enough there are people working here willingly, allowing themselves to be…well, laid, for some money.
This is unacceptable and unnegotiable, this is not a choice anyone can make for me and if they don’t like it the collar is still on my neck, make it kill me if they must, I won’t give in here. I’m not letting someone use me like a rag to wash their hands before throwing me away, nope.
And that’s exactly what I did. They tried every word of threat there is on this world or beating me a little, hoping I would give in before damaging my value… Some even begged to not lose money on their investment but I never gave in, even if the work changed to just serving the customers some food and drinks. I’m not a showpiece, not a toy, and nothing can change that.
So I was sold and bought again and again and again and again…
My last owner finally realized that trying to use me for pleasure was a waste of time. I’d scratch, kick, scream and even bite my tongue off if fighting back didn’t work, willing to kill myself before giving in. Of course, I knew they wouldn’t let me die, losing their property like that would’ve been unacceptable.
***
19695 The 1st Summer
At last, they’re selling me again, this time for a different purpose.
“A fighting slave you say? This?” A man in tattered armor and more scars than teeth points at me.
I understand where he’s coming from, I’m skinny, pale, beaten… just generally looking like shit. I also lost most of my muscles over the months, my beauties I worked so hard for… I’ll get them back, I just need ample food and time. And maybe my freedom back.
I don’t look the man in the eye, pretending to be meek and less desirable. My current owner, damn I hate that word, the man already learned his lesson after trying to get me to work for weeks and I don’t want to go through the whole charade so soon again.
With that said, I would much prefer fighting till I die than being the wealthy people’s toy. Throughout my involuntarily stay on this continent, Eborden, I learned the basic use of the language, how money works, some rules or laws as they call them and many useful tidbits. I won't be a slave forever and if… when I manage to break free I’ll need this knowledge to survive.
My new potential buyer walks up to me, looking over my body like they always do. The first few times this happened I felt extremely uncomfortable, however as weird as it sounds you can get used to it. He grabs my chin and lifts my head up, forcing me to look him in the eye. I glare at him for even touching me, snarling at the man on instinct and forgetting the meek persona I wore just a second ago.
“Hah, you were right, this might look like it’ll collapse any minute now but the spirit is there. The eyes never lie.” He pushes me away and turns back to the man currently holding the contract sealing my freedom. “Low leveled and poorly maintained. It’ll take time and effort to make anything out of it… three gold.”
For real? I’m not talking about being called it, I’m used to that but compared to my first selling price I’m basically worthless. I was worth fifteen when I first got sold… Such disgrace.
“Make it three gold fifty and it's yours. It has some experience and I was told they got it in the mountains of Koleth, some kind of savage tribe. That must be worth quite a bit.” The fat brothel owner rubs his hand.
“Rarity means nothing when it comes to combat but I’ll take it. We always need a few more bodies in the defense of the Elder Line.” Some money and my binding contract change hands, signaling a similar change in my fate.
“Now girl, we’ll get a few more of ya and then take you back home. Home to the land of warriors and stalwart defenders of the human lands,” He says the line with pride.”and the place where you’ll fight until your last breath.”