While the knowledge of slavery magic has existed in one form or another for millennia, it was always shunned by the civilizations of Terrapia until devastated and teetering, they faced the looming orc threat after the Third Great War.

Their solution was both crude from a societal perspective, yet elegantly simple in it’s execution. The slave collar, as it came to be called, is the dark legacy of the desperation of a past age, one debates have raged over for centuries.

Yet each generation to date has failed to dispose of them, so dependant have we humans become on the orcs for cheap labour, in an odd twist the humans are enslaved to the enslavement of the orcs, and thus the generational cycle continues.

                             -Historical analysis by Lecturer Hammond Fustus

Guppy felt the engravings on the inside of the collar, it was definitely a magitech slave collar, not a common restraining collar, and worse, it had already been 'keyed'.

She was enslaved.

Panic arose.

Her chest constricted and breath came short and fast, she clawed at the cold hateful band, frantically, desperately trying to take it off.

Her response was pain, it arched through every fibre of her, thwarting her efforts as her body spasmed and thrashed about on the cold stone floor, she tried to scream but even that was denied her.

Her mind went white as the pure agony and shock overrode her other senses.

After what seemed ages the pain receded and Guppy lay on the ground amid the scattered straw, curled up in a ball, and gradually coming to grips with her new reality.

For all intents and purposes she now legally belonged to someone until she could prove her innocence in a court of law.

But what slave owner would be so foolish as to let her reach there, all it would take was a keyed command from her 'owner' and she would collapse in pain once more.

Guppy lay clutching her knees and quietly sobbed for awhile, bemoaning a fate she had always feared but which had never seemed completely real, the threat consigned to a fear that had faded over the years.

Awhile later when the tears dried up and her determination rallied Guppy took stock of her situation.

Her clothes were intact, so she was obviously more valuable to them intact and functioning than otherwise.

Her belongings however were missing, all she had were the clothes she currently wore.

They must then know either of Arkannissius or of her new found powers, nothing else made sense in this situation, she would have to wait and see what they demanded of her.

"I wonder what the time and date is?" wondered Guppy aloud.

The dark prison without windows gave no indication of time or day.

"Third day of the second week of Autumn." A deep voice rumbled from her left.

Guppy jumped in fright, and forgetting her own strength she flew two meters straight up and bonked her head on the roof.

It rejected the passionate embrace of her skull so she came crashing down once more, the floor was more accepting to her plastering..

Bright spots appeared before her eyes that were otherwise filled with darkness.

Rubbing her head and wincing in pain Guppy rose and called out, "Who's there? Show yourself!"

A clinking of chains sounded as the shadowy outline of a scarily large orc made itself known.

"Peace little human, we are both prisoners here." It said.

……………………………….

Braexia smiled contentedly as she sat on a bench in the corner of a lively market square eating a fruit crepe.

So far her plan was going swimmingly. Infiltrate city, check. Get the underground leader to owe her a favor, check.

In a few days she'd be ready to move onto the next part of her plan, even the curse she had laid on that girl was also an unexpected bonus, things were looking promising.

She licked a smear of cream off her lips, enjoying the sweet fluffy taste.

It had been Braexia’s first time trying that complex a magic upon a living subject, and as a result she had messed up a rune activation and included too much force in the array, yet somehow the girl had miraculously survived something that would have killed a blooded orc warrior.

Well Braexia couldn't complain, it was one more tool to use in her quest for vengeance.

She stroked her hair, caressing it as it playfully curled around her fingers.

"Soon Simon, soon." she whispered.

With her stomach and taste buds satisfied she stood and moved on to her next objective.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

…………………………….

Jacques and Hadoom followed their guide down a series of corridors.

Occasionally she would pause to warn them of a particular trap, or temporarily deactivate it until they had passed.

The sheer number of particularly nasty traps caused the duo to behave uncharacteristically meek as their imaginations illustrated in graphic detail how a normal stroll down this corridor would have played out.

Eventually they got to an intimidatingly well protected set of steel doors, which were quite paranoidly spelled with enough magic to hold back an army.

It took their guide a couple of minutes to pass several verification tests including a mana wavelength test, blood test and the insertion of a magitech device that looked like a coin into a small slot.

Then they waited.

A rumbling and a hissing came from the other side, a whir of gears and clanking of bars and chains followed as they were retracted and removed, after a full minute of this the doors slowly, and silently swung open.

"A wee bit melodramatic." Hadoom muttered, rolling his shoulders to try relieve his built up tension.

Their guide glided into the room and after a short glance at each other the duo followed.

There they found an odd room indeed, it looked like a mash of a library and a clerk's office merged with a bank vault, not that they had frequented many bank vaults mind you.

In this windowless room their eyes quickly skimmed over the rows of filing cabinets and settled on the figure seated behind an expansive desk, even now he disdained their entrance, instead reading from two thick files.

"One moment." He softly said without even looking up.

Jacques read the situation, evidently whoever this was possessed at least a measure of power, by his bearing he was a civil servant, yet he radiated a quiet authority, clearly not some middle management then.

Rather he would have been impressed if a middle manager kept staff like their guide on the payroll.

The two files The Man in Black, and that was a descriptive term that demanded capitals, had open were clearly on himself and his partner, he could tell that much even from several meters away.

The Man in Black’s slender frame appeared leanly muscled and dexterous under his obviously luxurious albeit plain coloured clothing, his long tapered fingers likely suited knives rather than swords or heavier armaments, but they bore the calluses from years of training, he was no mere paper pusher then.

Jacques had a guess as to who this man was, a guess that was all but confirmed when he observed a ring on the man's finger that bore an emblem of a black raven.

"So who am I then Mr Woodsinger?" a faintly amused voice called out, shaking Jacques from his investigative revalrie.

"The Black Raven Milord, keeper of secrets and the shadowed blade of the Darish kingdom."

Jacques announced his answer calmly, confident in his analysis of their host.

The Man in Black nodded once to acknowledge the statement.

"Do you know why you are here?" He asked.

Jacques ran through several possibilities in his head, if it was just for a debriefing there was no need to bring them all the way here, likewise if they were to be disposed of there was no need to either heal them or bring them here, the alley they were retrieved from would have easily made an unobtrusive and convenient grave.

Lining up all the information he had at his disposal he could make only one conclusion.

"You wish to offer us a job." Jacques stated.

His response elicited a small smile from The Man in Black.

"I had high hopes for your intelligence. It seems they are met.

Indeed I wish to offer you both a place amongst my ravens, normally we wait a week after a potential recruit is cut loose from their standard affairs to extend an offer, however certain events have… expedited the process.

While you both have technically failed your entry test, namely escorting miss Bright to safety, I cannot deny that certain chaotic elements interfered in the process. Thus the offer of recruitment still stands."

The Man in Black fell silent, smiling just slightly with his fingers interlaced in front of him.

Hadoom broke the silence. "And I suppose if we reject the kind offer there's tea and jam crumpets on the way out.. milord."

The sarcasm in his tone spoke to his dissatisfaction with what they had unknowingly been made a part of.

Jacques dearly wished to kick his partner, for all his wisdom Hadoom had never liked other’s hands forcing his choices, but this was not the sort of individual you were curt with.

Instead Jacques settled for laying his hand on the dwarfs shoulder to calm him before speaking up to diffuse the budding tension.

"Forgive my hot blooded partner Milord, he must have been knocked too hard on his head in the alleyway. We gladly accept the chance to serve Darish."

Jacques knew that while this was a golden opportunity, in truth they had little choice.

All four of the rooms occupants knew that there were only two ways out of this room for the duo, as subordinates, or as corpses.

Personably Jacques was quite fond of his blood staying inside his body for the foreseeable future, he still had several goals to accomplish before he travelled the nether world.

The Man in Black looked behind them as he addressed their guide, "Emily, see to their induction and training for the next couple weeks,"

He then turned his sight back to his two new employees, "Your first job after Emily approves your readiness will be to track down miss Bright and retrieve her, a job I have no doubt you will personally enjoy this task Mr Woodsinger, seeing as she is currently held by the Grakoan mafia."

Jacques let a malicious grin spread upon his face, life as a raven might not be so bad after all if his first job allowed him to go after his most hated enemies, something that could never happen while he was a part of the corrupt law officers.

"My thanks Milord, we won't let you down." Jacques said with genuine emotion.

The Man in Black nodded before turning his attention back to the open folders and starting to make some notes.

"You may leave, shut the door on your way out won't you, it lets in an awful draft."

His words were soft, but delivered with an iron undertone that brooked no contention.

Jacques bowed and followed Emily out with Hadoom in tow, he could feel the waves of rebelliousness radiating off the dwarf and prayed they could at least make it out the door before his partner erupted in some poorly worded sentence.

To his surprise the dwarf did, the huge doors clicking, clanking and whirring as they went through the locking process, yet that seemed to be the trigger, the poor dwarf couldn't keep it in anymore.

"What kind of a name is 'Emily'? Right terrifying it is." He sniggered.

Emily blurred before either of them could react, Hadoom was caught with a leg hook and thrown to the ground as a curved blade appeared at his throat and in his mouth.

"That will be 'Mistress Fae' to you dwarf, learn to use your tongue properly or I'll lighten you of it." She threatened.

Hadoom went perhaps the stillest Jacques had ever seen him.

Emily gracefully straightened and ignored Jacques who had a half formed magic circle in each hand, instead turning and once more walking ahead.

Her voice floated back to them as she walked.

"Letting two Ka`dwah in was not my choice, so have no illusions that I will take it easy on you."

Jacques pulled Hadoom to his feet and they both followed their new instructor.

"What did she call us lad?" The dwarf asked, his tone airy in a way Jacques had never heard it before.

"Ka`dwah," Jacques replied, "Little tree slugs that parasite a tree, stunting it's growth by consuming its resources. I had suspicions of her origin, but this confirms it, only elves use that insult."

“I think I’m in love.” muttered Hadoom.

Jacques shook his head and clapped his friend on the shoulder, “Good Luck.”