Burning Today Options

[mALX]

You ROCKED the dialogue in this chapter! WHEW !!!! Amazing!!!!

[SubRosa]

Very strong descriptions, and vivid metaphors. This one I really loved:

As ever my mind circled the mist between wrong and right and picked at the plan like a scab.

Mabrel is an interesting one. I wonder why it is that she hates the Dunmer so much? I also wonder how long she will survive Firen's company?

Lately when I read BT I am finding myself reminded of Outlaw Josey Wales, in the way that Firen is wanted everywhere. Now I am suddenly thinking of him saying: "People I take a liking to have a habit of dying.", and the response: "I notice that people you take a disliking to have that same habit..."

Now I am really looking forward to the attack on Tear. You have really been building it up into something big.


nits:

"I seek help from a certain group you used sometimes to aid.
I think you meant:
"I seek help for a certain group you used to aid sometimes.

I wandered what the dunmer had done to drive her quite so mad.
"Yes," she laughed, "I wander which splinter group did that
it is your old enemy wander/wonder in both these cases.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Apr 22 2010, 08:06 PM

[Olen]

Aaaaargh... what is with those words? I did a search through the remnant of the story for wander to change where appropriate (there were a great many) and I still get it wrong, it's not even like I don't know the difference, I just don't see it. I shall have to try something more drastic now.

As for the wording: I see how that's unclear, it's a dialect thing. I changed from to for but kept the adverb splitting the infinitive because the other sounds strange spoken (to me anyway).

I've never seen The Outlaw Josey Wiles, but I'm delighted you feel you know Firen well enough to compare him to other characters and picture him that clearly...

Cheers.

[Winter Wolf]

I am really enjoying this story. The similarities with Josey Wales are spot on.
Make sure that you watch the movie. The relationship between Clint and the American Indian woman is so cleverly done that you cannot help but laugh.

If you are having trouble with the wording then just try gunpowder. Works every time.

[Olen]

Cheers WW I shall put it on the list. As for wording I think I've sorted it by changing the entire thing to blue of a different font I saw a few more homonym errors. Made my eyes feel like they'd liquefied though.

Anyway...


34. No Return

I left the house of the witch a little after noon with a sack of items. It turned out the slave bracers she had were for study, as the source of so many strong souls required for the enchantments had piqued her interest. Her findings reasserted my hatred of the Dres. In any case such studies were invaluable to my intentions. She waved to me from the door, with a look of glee which would have unnerved Sheogorath. I walked back out of town from the way I'd come in. Again I was ignored. Back at the camp Hassde and Okun slept, Hides sat a short way off glowering into the distance. I left her to it and lay down in the crevice between two boulders. Weariness took me.

A scaly hand shook me awake. I brushed it away and leapt up trying to shake free of my stupor. "Wha- Ah it's you," I said realising that the hand belonged to Okun and not my nightmares.

"It went well?" he gestured to the sack I'd returned with.

I rubbed the muck from my eyes and saw that Hassde and Hides were also both looking at me. It was dark but Hides looked like she'd seen little sleep. "That woman," I said, "is weird. She might have been a necromancer, she was definitely into some iffy magic. But yes, she mostly had what I needed and made what she didn't."

"Perhaps she has reconsidered her dislike of us," said Hassde.

I shook my head. "She didn't like the Twin Lamps much more than the dunmer I think, but she hates them with a fascination. I think her help was more because of the plantation and the likelihood of more Dres deaths if my plan works."

"Now you have the tools mind telling us what it is?" said Hides.

I swallowed. Doubtless a silver tongued rogue would have had no trouble... "We walk in and start a riot," their incredulous stares told me that the direct approach may not have been the best. I elaborated, "We are four. We cannot fight in, and only one of us could rely on stealth," I nodded to Hides, "Hassde and I would doubtless make a show for ourselves but even so it would be an irrelevance. Okun would last as long as his luck." Harsh perhaps but now was not the time for sugar coatings. "We could hardly be a poorer group to attempt this, they hold all the strong cards. So I intend to seize one. If a full blown mass escape and riot were to happen they would not be able to hold it, the slaves simply outnumber the guards."

"A meat grinder then?" Hassde put in.

"Not even that perhaps, more a torrent bursting through a dam. Their system is weak, if one part fails the rest falls like a house of cards. That is our strength."

"And how will you start this mass riot. It would be very well if there were just a few or if they were all fresh and angry but many will be old or broken to the Dres. Even managing to get into Tear will be nearly impossible."

"We shall walk in," I said.

Okun and Hides both gave me a calculating look. Hassde didn't see where I was going, "The Dres would kill us."

"No, they're going to help us," I reached into the sack and produced three slave bracers, "The witch, Mabrel, studies slave bracers. These are past test pieces, their enchantments are pretty much broken. The magical wards are gone, just basic tumblers weak to both picks and levers. This way we can get amongst the slaves." I held up a hand to forestall any protest, "The riot we start with these," I pulled out a handful of scrolls.

"No," said Hides, "I will not become a slave again."

"You will not be a slave, these bracers are relatively easy to remove, with the correct tools. We will pass as slaves until the riots begin, then we shall be free. Or dead. Either way you will not be under a master's will, except to destroy that master."

"No. Never again... I can't..."

"What of Keel-ha," said Okun, "Do you not owe it to his memory to go ahead with this? What would he have have done?" I smiled inwardly. It was brutal but it would definitely work, especially from him.

She nodded mutely.

Hassde had been looking quizzically at the scrolls, "How can paper make riots? Strong leaders make riots."

I smiled, how wrong can you be? "Paper make riots in so many ways," I said, "But in this case it is no so subtle. Magic. I have four scrolls of Monden's Instigator, use them well. Read it and whoever you direct it at will fly into the most deadly rage. Two of them have been modified," I gestured to two large but rough scrolls, power crackled off them, I raised one, "This I believe will tear apart the soul of one Nels Deren," I gave a black grin, "And use that magic to send every being within a significant area into a deadly rage. Make sure that the slaves are ready to attack the Dres before you use it. We don't want the them tearing each other apart. Use these well, Mabrel said they were experimental and doesn't know exactly how well they will preform. She also copied the inscriptions onto a separate parchment in the argonian script to make it easier for you to read. Just make the sounds."

It took them a while to absorb it all. At length it was Hassde who spoke, "This is madness. But perhaps genius also. I don't understand such trinkets, but if they do as you say... Let Tear burn."

"Tear shall burn," nodded Okun.

Hides looked pained, "Yes, I know where my duty lies. Tear shall burn."

We started going over exact details.

***

Evening came grudgingly. I glared at the setting sun as if I could blame it for what was about to begin. I could still walk away, abandon this plan. Or so one part of my mind said but it was false. Though physically possible I had come too far to shy the last fence. If all went well the good of what I was to do would outshine all the darkness leading up to it. I looked at the sun, a great red eye stared back half lidded by the western hills. Its gaze drifting away from what must soon begin. Hides' fidgeting stirred me and I looked round. She had slit the wooden ends from the scrolls to make them easier to conceal. In the centre of the camp the bracers lay in the sack. An air of foreboding exuded from the coarse weave of the fabric like a noisome gas of the soul. They lay within, an ogrim in our midst, unmentioned but far from ignored. Even so only Okun let his gaze rest on them, but he fidgeted with his own even more than usual.

Hassde must have guessed my thoughts, "It is time?"

"Soon," I nodded, "Then why not now?"

He nodded but for a while we did nothing. Perhaps it was a little thing, they were, after all, robbed of most of their power. But there is power in actions. I got up first, for it was my plan, and opened the sack. I selected the first bracer, it was cold and heavy. Slowly I extended my other arm and lay it into one half. The metal was cold against my skin but that was not why I shivered. "For tomorrow," I said and closed it.

Click. A simple sound cast huge in the shadow of fate. I tested it. Locked. There was no removing it without the help of a thief or a smith. It gripped my arm like a cold jaw that felt simply wrong. I doubted I would get used to it and though was lighter than some armours I'd worn, the knowledge that, even if I wished, I could not remove it was far heavier. It was odd to look at this new addition. Another click sliced the silence while I accustomed myself, there was a feeling of malaise, Mabrel had said something about magic draining or some-such. It didn't matter. I looked up to see Hassde with a grim expression but it was a smile next to Hides who bristled as she picked up the final one. The crest on her head stood erect and quivered slightly, her sharp teeth showed past her lips. She stared at it for a while then quickly closed it around her arm.

"I never," she said, "Imagined I would do that."

I nodded, "We are ready then. There is a large slave train just passed though Nelmora, they'll be camped a way south," they had passed though while I was with the enchantress, I wasn't sure how far they were likely to get but they wouldn't be able to outpace us. "They'll be ideal, we just need to get in."

"They'll notice," said Okun, "It's not like they don't count us."

"Yes but if we act ignorant they'll just suspect a mix-up. How many people are trying to get into the trains? But yes we will need a cover story, I'll leave that to you - I don't know the business as well."

He nodded, "I know the inside but nothing current, Hides?"

"A big mine shut south of Mournhold recently. Hard times have dropped the price of ebony and it was a rubbish deposit anyway. They say the Morag Tong got the owner and his son cut his losses. Big influx from there about a month back. Just say we worked there," she looked at me, "And don't say you were a miner unless you know your stuff. Be a labourer, they can't ask difficult questions about that."

I nodded, "Okay lets go."

We walked about a quarter of a mile east of the road to avoid being seen. It was odd not to have my sword and armour. I don't think I'd ever walked out of town without them. Excepting leaving that village all those years ago. The memories threatened so I took a generous gulp, indeed as much as I dared, from the skooma bottle I carried and threw the rest into a bush. My scrolls were unlikely to be found in the lining of my trousers, but concealing a bottle was less easy. It was one of the many reasons I wasn't looking forward to the next few days. I cast one longing glance back at it before continuing. The unfamiliar feel of the bracer tugged my mind away from the past. I fingered it though the shirt sleeve I'd pulled down over it.

After a couple of miles Okun tapped my shoulder. "Yes?" I said.

"They're going to catch you in seconds," he said. I gave him a quizzical look. "You hold yourself all wrong. You look in control, proud, confident. That's not how a slave looks, and your shirt is of too high quality. Loose it."

I pulled off the shirt and threw it away too. If anyone else ever walked this way they were going to be mightily confused, "How should I look?" I asked. I hadn't tried to look anything, I just stood as I did.

"You have posture like a lord. That has to go, hunch a little, round your shoulders. Do everything a stuck-up headmistress would tell you not to. And try not to meet any eyes."

I practised as we walked but it's hard to change the way you are. I like to think I managed, at least to an extent. The evening breeze was nice against my skin but it meant I had to see the bracer. I simply didn't like it. In the distance smoke rose from several fires. That would be the camp. I adjusted out path to make for it.

This post has been edited by Olen: Apr 27 2010, 11:19 AM

[mALX]

I love it all, but the part where they are figuring out how to act like slaves is my favorite part, rationalizing how the slaves are counted, walk and dress, etc - your mind is amazingly detailed! Great Write!!!

[haute ecole rider]

When it comes to covert ops, I love reading about the planning part. That's my second favorite part. My favorite part of reading covert ops is winging it when the plan goes all to hell, as happens in the best stories. I'm thinking this might happen in Tear, too, based on the quality of the writing so far.

Good stuff! And good catch from Okun. We see a little bit more of Firen in Oken's pointing out his demeanor as being inappropriate for a slave.

Do everything a stuck-up headmistress would tell you not to.

QFT!

[SubRosa]

Very exciting. You really have me looking forward to what is coming next!

This is madness. But perhaps genius also.
Quoted for truth. Often the most brilliant plans seem mad.

This is a wonderful metaphor:
Evening came grudgingly.

Your description of Firen putting on the slave bracer as simply wonderful, with the suffocating weight it cast upon his heart.


nits:
This left me puzzled:
It turned out the slave bracers she had were for study, as the source of so many strong souls had piqued her interest.
What do the bracers have to do with a source of strong souls?


"That woman," I said, "Is weird.
That second is ought to be lowercase. It is following a comma, so it is part of the same sentence as the rest of the line.

same with she here:
I shook my head, "She didn't like the Twin Lamps much more than the dunmer I think,


This sounds a bit odd:
but she hates them with a fascination.
maybe you meant passion instead?


Doubtless a silver tongued rouge would have had no trouble...
You are looking for rogue, rouge is makeup.


Either way you will not be under a master's will,
You ought to have an apostrophe there, as the word is being used possessively.

[Remko]

Chapter 32 broke my heart..... awesome!!!

[Olen]

mALX - thanks for the comment, I try to put a few extra details in to spice things up a little.

haute - you say planning... anyway I don't think it's spoiling anything to say not all goes as planned.

SubRosa - as ever you see everything. As per the souls for the bracers - they have a continuous effect enchantment which required the soul of the toughest creatures in Morrowind which always made me wonder how they could afford them for all the slaves. Also I kept fascination, to 'hate with a passion' is a bit cliche IMO.

Remko - glad you're enjoying it.

All - short part this time seeing as it was that or another rather long one. I think the next section of the plot is probably the best, and in about four parts (depending on where I decide to cut them) the referances to Yesterday's Shadow begin to appear, though it should more or less make sense without having read it.



35. First Taste

It was only when we arrived at the outskirts of the camp that the full meaning of Hassde saying that they were broken hit me. The strongest chain holding the slaves seemed to exist only within their minds, there were a few guards watching them but they looked bored and seemed more interested in speaking with each other or drinking than actually watching what was happening. Of course their fear was well enough placed for recapture was near certain. There was a small stockade but the vast majority of the slaves simply lay in small groups, of perhaps twenty at most, sleeping. Most were argonian though there were some groups of bedraggled Khajit. Other races were very sparse; I did spot two dunmer amid some of the cats and a few humans dotted around. Two bosmer sat alone in a dark spot, as I watched a guard walked over and punched one of the annoying creatures. Can't say I really blamed him.

I looked back to the other three. If anything Okun looked least nervous. "Looks like getting in shouldn't be hard. Where do you suggest?"

Okun rose from the grass for a moment, Hassde behind him. "Near but not in the smaller group of westerners to the right," said Okun.

"Yes," said Hassde, "I'm from near Lilmoth and you look western enough."

Okun nodded, "Maybe Archcon way. I don't know, never knew my parents, I was taken away to a sitter before I hatched."

Hassde grimaced, "I thought that was banned."

"Only up north. The Dres still think slaves have similar rights to tables."

I looked at them confused, "Which group? How can you tell where they are from?"

"That one," Okun pointed, "They're definitely western. Just like you humans say you can tell a Breton from a Cyrodiil. Longer faces and dark backs. Small crests too, they're as western as khang root broth."

Hides looked deeply troubled but didn't say anything. I wasn't not sure to what extent she was there but when I started forward she followed. The guards were worse than shoddy and the grass offered some cover so the main problem was choosing which of the many gaps I liked best. I let a few pass to get the feel for their rhythm before the perfect opportunity presented itself. A guard was deeply ensconced in his hackle-lo and had fallen somewhat behind. The gap was good enough in itself but then the one in front threw the bottle he'd just drained at the two bosmer and left his post. For a moment I stared in disbelief - how incompetent were these dunmer? I immediately started forward. Keeping my right arm low to avoid the bracers dull glow showing was a slight hindrance but even so I crossed the ground with a comfortable margin. The argonians kept up easily. Green scales don't show up like skin and they're tougher too. Humans are still clearly the best race but argonians certainly have enough advantages.

Once within the circle of the guards it was easy to sneak over to the group Okun had suggested. We approached near them but stopped a small way short and lay down. I had managed little sleep in the past few days but I doubted I'd get much that night. Partly there was the strange feeling of the bracer and the seemingly trivial but oddly annoying discovery of how hard it is to pillow your head when your forearm is wrapped in metal. Wondering about what the future held added to my discomfort. I lay awake and considered what might happen if it went wrong. Could I live out my days as a slave? What if we were diverted? Or if against all logic this train wasn't bound for Tear and the bracer were to be changed for any reason, perhaps they could detect defective ones? Discovery was less frightening, it meant death. A painful one but the unknown holds an infinitely more perverse terror than the worst of deaths.

Dawn found me still awake. I could see Hassde's red eyes were also open. Hides was deep in the throes of a nightmare, I thought about waking her but decided against it. Either she would herself or she would sleep on and forget the dream. Only Okun slept well. It was light enough for me to decide sleep was futile so I sat up and my stomach growled. I could have done with a smoke too. I was pondering how best to keep the symptoms at bay when an argonian from the group we were next to sat up and crawled over to me.

"Hello," he said in argonian.

"Hello," I replied in his language.

He raised an eyebrow, "Been with us for a while then? Good accent you've got."

"Really?"

"As western as khang broth... What I wouldn't do for a bowl of that. What's your story?"

"Joined up in the town this morning. We've come down from the ebony mines up by Mournhold."

He nodded, obviously he knew the place, "Feel free to join our group. Word is we'll make Tear this evening," a cloud passed over his face, "I've heard stories. I'm not ashamed to say I'm scared. We're all scared." He sighed, "Moving's like this though. Breaks the blessed monotony and then I think. Hope is a black curse."

I tried to nod but I simply couldn't empathise. It put my mind to rest though, any god worth worship would be blind to whatever black deeds I might commit in opposing this. The imploring eyes' of the plantation owner's wife flirted into my mind but the memory was robbed of its power. Destroying the system would come at a grave price, but I could accept it.

Perhaps he saw my boiling emotions congeal into resolve, or maybe I still had too proud a posture. "You are more than welcome to join us. We need strength like yours, if only for the sake of the women. They are frightened. Especially Meesei for she is with egg but daren't let the dunmer know."

"We'd happily go with you," my answer wasn't entirely selfless. In a crowd we would stick out less. There is a safety in numbers, "I'm Cidus."

"Chalur," he replied.

This post has been edited by Olen: May 1 2010, 11:07 PM

[haute ecole rider]

Another good installment!

Of course, it's a given that nothing ever goes as planned.

One nit:

Hides was deep in the throws of a nightmare, I thought about waking her but decided against it.

I think the word you want is throes.

More Please.

[SubRosa]

I had to laugh at this!
Two bosmer sat alone in a dark spot, as I watched a guard walked over and punched one of the annoying creatures. Can't say I really blamed him.
Poor wood elves, I think Bethesda made the males annoying on purpose!

Out of curiosity, where do you get the names for the various places you mention, like Limloth, Archcon, etc... Are they all original creations on your part? They are not on any of the maps I have found.

Your description of the various breeds of Argonian was an especially good touch, and the comparison to how a human could tell a Breton from an Imperial.

As hottie collie said, more please!

nits:
How can you tell were they are from?
Just a little typo here on where.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: May 1 2010, 10:38 PM

[mALX]

This is great, especially his inner dialogue at the end!!!!!

[Olen]

Cheers for the comments. The place names are a mixture, villages and the like are my own creations but larger places tend to be somewhat based in the lore. Lilmoth and Archcon are both in Black Marsh. This is most useful, as is all the Imperial Library.

As an aside does anyone know how Tear is pronounced?

36. Tear

Tear rose in the distance. A group of white cantons not dissimilar to Vivec. But it was a parody of that great city for even from the distance I could smell it on the southerly wind. The stench of death and squalor and sour smoke born of too many people in a hot place with no purse liberal enough to clean it. Closer I saw how right I was for beneath the white towers was a mulch of dark slums. We marched on, the pace was not taxing but talk was discouraged so I pondered the distant city. Its size awed me a little and I wondered how my scheme could ever have seemed to contain a scrap of sanity, surely such an audacious yet ill-advised idea belonged in the realm of Sheogorath. Tear would not fall, could not from so small a force. But that did not mean our names would not be immortal.

Its size alarmed me for another reason though, how in such a vast place was I to find Varnan? He was a part of why I did this, now as much as ever for even my brief taste of the fate I landed him was enough to temper my resolve. I also wondered how much I had tied his salvation with my own but shook my head to rid it of the thought. Still it lingered. The want for skooma writhed within me like a worm, not yet a lust, but neither was my mind my own to control. It tried to think of what would come after this, if by some terrible chance I did survive. I pushed it aside as idiocy. Grey-tail had the truth, we went to our deaths. Was that a betrayal of Varnan, that I was likely to die in attempting rescue without ever seeing him? My thoughts skittered like the maddened shadows of a windblown lantern.

In the afternoon we arrived on the outskirts of the city. The road ran between low shacks of salvaged wood and cloth built without thought for sanitation or even transport. The streets between them were far to narrow for any cart. Their inhabitants were empty eyed ghosts drifting among the rubbish which lay in mounds either smouldering or festering in the sun's fierce heat. Few had shoes and all seemed to have some disease or another. We skirted past a bed of lepers. In its early stages the disease was easily cured, but not, it appeared, here. They sat in their own filth looking more wretched and hungry than even the locals. Closer to the city stone buildings began to crop up among the slums. Their whitewash was stained by damp and fungus. Some had small queues outside, others just a couple of hollow eyed dunmer pulling wildly on their hackle-lo before hurrying back in. One of these buildings had a broken sign which told the world it was a clothes factory. This was how the Dres kept their prices down then? Was there so much difference between their unseen lower class and the slaves in the field?

Abruptly the slums ended and we were in a short patch of open space. Before us the white cantons reached up heavenward from the filth. Like Vivec it stood knee deep, but not in water. Immediately before us there were three and behind more peaked through the gaps. A great stair ascended to the middle of the centre one where grand doors were flanked by guards. That was not for us however, we were led towards a gate in the wall which ran between the cantons. I observed all this more with interest than apprehension. The argonians we travelled with were not so calm, they fretted, doing a thousand little things of no consequence. Their eyes danced this way and that like a cornered deer. The difference was simple: they did not want to be here.

We were halted at the gate with a few cracks of the whip which I managed not to get in the way of. A long welt still throbbed on my back from earlier that day. I sidled up to Okun, "What now?"

He glanced around, I could smelt the fear on him, "Most likely we stand here while they sort out where we go. This is a huge train, it will be a while. Stay close."

I tried to look over the heads of those in front to see what was happening but argonians are tall and I saw little. A group was lead through the gate under heavy guard. The sun beat down like a hammer on the hard packed earth. I waited. Other groups, for it seemed most originated together, were split and lead within the gate to the unknown. There was something unnerving about them disappearing that way, the knowledge that I would soon pass through but having no idea of what I'd find was a predator amid my thoughts. I couldn't decide whether I wanted them to hurry up or slow down.

Then it was our turn. Several Dres guards surrounded us. Their smooth helmets covered their faces revealing only red eyes. The effect was exactly as intended: intimidation. What the helmets couldn't achieve the canes and whips did. With brutal efficiency they split the group. The edge of one caught me across the thigh though Okun took the brunt of it. We hastily pushed back into our half. A few spots of blood stained the division. I didn't need to try looking at the ground, the whips managed that. I did need to concentrate to stop my mind showing on my face. I would have given all the sugar in Elswer to be in a locked room with them and my sword. See how well their terror held there. The idea was a nice one and I didn't doubt it had been thought of by a million others before me.

"You fetchers from the mines get here now," his eye fell on me as the only human. I followed Okun out, face down and stood before him. Hides and Hassde appeared next to us. "You lot," said the guard, "Are a nuisance. Why weren't you on the books?" He lashed out with staggering speed punching Okun across the nose. I managed to stop myself in time. Just. It was for a better end, and it would be his end if I saw him. "You pair of swits that way," he menaced Hassde and Hides with the whip, "And you with that lot. Someone else's problem now."

Our group was lead in first. The guards surrounded us and closed us in tight before starting forward. I was carried by the weight of numbers, pushed from behind and pushing in front. We were herded though the gate and into the infamous slave-pens of Tear.

This post has been edited by Olen: May 3 2010, 04:40 PM

[mALX]

There were a lot of lines I would quote here, but I held myself down to two so as not to spam your thread. These are HUGE !!!!

The want for skooma writhed within me like a worm, not yet a lust, but neither was my mind my own to control.

I tried to look over the heads of those in front to see what was happening but argonians are tall and I saw little

Great Write!!!!!

[haute ecole rider]

Beautiful description of grim Tear (no, I don't know how to pronounce it in this context - sorry!). It really came to life for me.

Two nits that were consistently repeated, so I'll just sum them up:
The possessive form of 'it' is 'its'; 'it's' with the apostrophe is a contraction of 'it is.'
The past tense of 'to lead' is 'led'.

And one thing, not really a nit:

Immediately before us there were three and behind more peaked through the gaps.

I'm assuming you're referring to cantons here, or something similar to towers. Anyway, my first response was you meant peeked, but then after thinking about the visual image (tall, narrow buildings with steeply-pitched roofs), I wondered if your use of peaked might be more appropriate if you wanted to conjure up the resemblance of these rooflines to mountain peaks. I just wanted to verify that is the image you wanted to accomplish here.

There is so much I really liked about this post - not just the vivid description of Tear -

Before us the white cantons reached up heavenward from the filth. Like Vivec it stood knee deep, but not in water.

- but also the doubts passing through Firen's mind -

Was that a betrayal of Varnan, that I was likely to die in attempting rescue without ever seeing him? My thoughts skittered like the maddened shadows of a windblown lantern.

- and the processing of the slave train on arrival in the square at Tear -

Several Dres guards surrounded us. Their smooth helmets covered their faces revealing only red eyes. The effect was exactly as intended: intimidation. What the helmets couldn't achieve the canes and whips did.

That's all I'm going to limit myself to - I could just quote the entire chapter, it was that well written. Bravo!

Oh, yes, and more, please!

[Remko]

I truly love this story; it's got it all! Drama, action, gore, politics, you name it! Awesome Olen!

[SubRosa]

Very strong stuff. Vivid descriptions of the squalor of Tear, equaled by the strength of the descriptions of being part of the slave train.

I really liked this turn of phrase:
a mulch of dark slums

As was this:
My thoughts skittered like the maddened shadows of a windblown lantern.

More!

[Olen]

Cheers for the replies. I'm glad you liked the description, action returns soon, don't worry.

As ever it was hononyms that tripped me up, I had no idea peeked was spelt like that.

And as requested:


37. In the Beast

We passed through the gate and the stench hit me like a hammer. Bodily smells of fear and pain mingled with the reek of blood and over it all the sickly stench of death. Screams and the crack of whips tore through the dark channels lit only by the second hand light from above. Cages lined the walls: some tiny, only permitting their occupant to sit cross-legged and bowed, others holding a score or more. We were driven through it between the screams and horrors and mad and broken. We passed a Khajit who wailed and cried and shrieked with every breath in spite of the ministrations of the guards. His, or her, for its fur was so matted I could not tell, mind was broken and gone for the brighter realms of sheogorath. Another slave lay dead in a small cage, his companion futilely trying to wave away the flies which settled on his staring eyes and black lips. Others were clearly dying either by disease or the brutalities of the guards. I wondered how deep a soul must venture into hell to find somewhere worse than this. Perhaps only the slavers would ever find out. And possibly myself.

On the corner of the first canton seven corpses hung by their necks. A sign below told that their loved ones tried to escape. The whips goaded us onward down another narrow channel. A circus of horrors and madness danced around us. I was shaken, I'd seen plenty, and done enough to populate endless nightmares, but this mechanical dread was different. There could be no god. No true god worthy of devotion, merely malevolent spirits grown fat and mad on their own power just as the blessed saints Almsivi. We turned down and left, toward the sea. Pipes emerged from the cliffs on either side and dribbled raw effluent into open sewers which were in places blocked and spread grey pools which turned the dusty earth to vile mud. It was by one of these that we were pushed into two adjacent cages. The whip initially came between myself and Okun but I forced my way to his side and into his cage.

The door clanged shut. I sighed, "This is a dark place."

"Now you see the true colour of the Dres," he replied, "And this is merely storage. Punishment is..." he broke off with a shiver, his tongue flickering between his scaly lips.

"Tomorrow things will be different here," we had arranged that the following day at the afternoon bell we would act in unison. Looking around I realised just how massive the casualties would be. This was no plantation with tools waiting to be taken up, the only weapons were in the hands of the guards. It made no difference, we genuinely had come too far to back down now and I wouldn't have if I could. This foul blot on Morrowind would be washed away on a red tide.

Okun nodded, "Yes. Yes, they will be. But I'm afraid."

"Fear does little good. What happens tomorrow is in the hands of fate, we must only choose the best path." He nodded and the silence stretched. I needed a plan to find Varnan, now I was so close. But I had doubts. I had used the argonians, gaining trust and then cajoling them into this fool's scheme. There would be blood, but I was a survivor. And a betrayer, my conscience warned. This was what the Argonian Defence Front had dreamed of though, I had merely realised that wish. And how many, in a fit of grief, have wished the world ended? Was I using them? Probably; but how else was I to rescue Varnan?

I realised I'd rubbed my arm red raw. The craving was becoming strong, the cat on my shoulder had its claws in deep and it was starting to get angry. Even so my mind didn't go near the cost of Varnan's freedom. How could it, for I would be costing my own salvation.

Neither of us had any desire to darken our already heavy moods with talk of the past and we didn't dare speak of the future least we were overheard. Instead we talked futilely of nothing and simply sat, trying to find a spot which we could pretend to be clean. The silences were broken by the sound of the slave pits. Screams. The crack of whips and tears of those who could not take it. I did not go to them, no one did. The very walls seemed to suck what little compassion I may have mustered like the last drops from an empty waterskin. I sat among the argonians profoundly alone and thought of Firewatch. Had it been so bad there? I'd had all I'd ever worked for, and for free. And most of all I had skooma, I so longed for its sickly sweetness and bitter tang on my throat. I was so weary that I managed some sleep, but a hedge of tangled dreams and bad memories of ill omen blocked me every time I might have gotten real rest.

***

They came for me at dawn. Three guards in blank helmets came into the cage with whip and cudgel and looked at each of us. Myself and four others were taken out, I think they chose the strongest, or most saleable as one was a young female who might have been shapely to those that way inclined. The other three, Okun included, were the healthiest looking and one was a trained miner. As I stepped from the cage the first guard kicked my feet from under me while another put the boot in. Perhaps I could have taken him down and made a fight of it but it would have been hard and the consequence worse than the beating I just took. Once they'd finished they bound my hands and ordered the rest out. They came sheepishly with their wrists ready.

Fear. That was what the place was built of. True there were cages of iron and walls of stone but the soul of the place was forged of fear. The guards did fear the slaves, simply due to their sheer number and so filled their minds so full of terror there was no space for revolt. Knowing it was no help though, the brutality of truth was that it worked. I was frightened of the guard, and of whatever might happen next. I knew there was little to be changed now, and indeed one way or another little to worry me, but there was still the fear of pain. The beating had hurt and I knew, just as the guards did, that they could issue that much, or more, pain whenever they wanted. I hurried to keep up with the lead but kept my eyes on the ground so they might not notice me. They led us toward the gate but at the corner we turned left toward the centre of the city. The surroundings remained much the same except for a canton ahead which looked different from the rest. It was not as high and had many doors at ground level as well as the bridges above which connected the others.

There was another group of slaves, all argonian, in front of us and also heading for the odd canton. They too had their hands tied. Were we to be sold so soon? A glance up suggested so as many Dres seemed to be going the same way in the walkways high above. I quickly returned my gaze to the ground.

Inside the great mart my suspicions were confirmed. There were more holding cells scattered amid a maze of passages. The guards deposited us at the end of a queue then left. Once they were safely out the way I moved just far enough into the corridor to see what we were waiting for. At the front of the queue an argonian was called forward. He faced the wall and a dunmer pulled a brush from a large pot and daubed something on his back. I edged out just a little further to see it was a number, so they sold by lots. Made sense. Just then I heard a heavy footfall behind me and jumped back into the queue but not before the guard saw. He menaced me with his club for a moment before he jabbed me in the breadbasket with his other hand and left.

"What are they doing?" whispered Okun.

"Numbering us," I managed between two wheezes.

We waited and the queue crept forward. Near the front it was easy to see what happened. I counted up the numbers. Two hundred and seventy five. Two hundred and seventy six. Two seventy seven. My turn.

"Next," barked the guard.

I hurried out.

"Face the wall," his bored tone threatened violence, if only to break the monotony. I did as ordered and put my hands on the stone, polished to a high sheen by a million before me. The brush licked my back like a cold tongue and sent shivers down my spine. I held still for another three strokes before the guard spoke again, "Follow the last one to the waiting cell."

I did. I also hid the anger which boiled within me. I had no desire to be two hundred and seventy eight, or any other number for that matter. Was I just a unit, a piece to be bought like a common animal. My nails dug into the hand they were bound to.

The system was not an efficient one, at least from the slaves' end. I waited there for hours occasionally attempting empty conversation with Okun but mainly riding the roundabout of chills and skooma sweats in a fog of bleak thoughts and hot anger. I couldn't help looking out from the barred door and wondering how many of those passing would see the sun set. How many had families? It didn't matter, the slaves were doing what must be done and I had little time for the slavers, this was not just a job. Mercenaries and hired swords are just making ends meet, even thieves and assassins. But not slavers.

Eventually a rough looking dunmer wandered in, he moved more like a drillmaster than the other thugs down here. He looked at us for a moment, "You're up next, when you get out there you're going to look good. Run round the mart twice, not so fast they don't see you but fast enough they know you're fit. You, human," he turned on me, "this goes for you especially. I want you to fetch a high price, if you don't there will be consequences."

We were lead to a stair which ended in a large door. The guard drew an knife and grabbed my arm cutting the bonds against the bracer. "Out there," he said and pointed at the arch of bright light.

I had not choice but to ascend and emerged into the bowl of a weird union of amphitheatre and guar mart. I wandered onto the sandy floor and looked up to see rows of dunmer occupying benches above, most seemed to be taking notes though some just watched. A guard by the door flicked his hand. I took the hint and started to run.

[mALX]

I don't know how you were able to top your previous chapters, but you have! This chapter is hard hitting and powerful from the first sentence to the end and merits re-reading several times - AWESOME WRITE !!!!!