The sky was slowly rolling into the grey obsidian of the night, the ash-colored clouds slowly seeping in, hiding the pale silver moonlight. But the small camp wasn’t quiet, In fact, It was quite the opposite, the warm crackling fire cast ebbing and waning shadows upon the fire pit as the obnoxious laughter of the camp’s men could be heard. This wasn’t a time for sleep, far from it, the camp was awash with squabbling and the sound of whips, chains, and the scent of slop was thick in the air, a nauseating scent that wafted through the camp. Caged and tied to posts, across the southern section of the camp men and women alike found the sting of the whip, the only reprieve being the children being spared, but forced to watch. They had to be trained somehow. Trained to be the perfect, obedient subjects, forced to do your every wish or command. Trained to be in their master’s words “Useful”.
The slaves not lashed to poles and beaten had taken the reprieve to prepare themselves for their “Training”, families saying what could be their last goodbyes, lovers wishing each other well, and for some wondering what their first training session would be like. The older ones try to reassure them, showing scars and tales of old, the younger ones seem brave, but in their eyes it was obvious fear shown, the ones showing bravado, or stupidity, in this case, seem to want to show resistance, the one act they could bear without being met with the Headsman's axe. But not Dulcina, she had taken advantage of being the last cage, She started shoving her hands through the cold metal bars. Reaching out towards the guard just outside her grasp, fast asleep, drunk and ripe for the spoils of her endeavors, but it was not the man she sought, but instead the keys just ever so slightly out of reach, she presses herself to the bars and strains herself. She always tried ways to run away, never giving up because she despised the harsh slave trade, but tonight was her chance, she’d studied the guards for months, noting their patterns and habits, and this one she knew well would be here this very night. She had been given right into this life by her parents. She never knew them and was glad she didn’t. Any person who could sell their own daughter for money didn’t deserve a second thought as far as she was concerned. She was nothing but a slave, her thoughts and words would soon belong to someone.
Dulcina was a perfect slave. She was beautiful and stubborn. No one enjoyed a slave who obeyed every command, they seemed to like the fire she held. She was a Highlander human. The race was normally known for better status’s but her natural beauty had poisoned her future. Since she had been old enough to think she remembered being a slave, and trying to run away. Only once did she manage to break free and she had tried to travel to one place she felt would keep her safe. She ran towards Carolustadt. She knew it was the perfect place to find her freedom. Before the slave could make it there, she had tripped and hurt her leg pretty bad and in the end, got caught. She planned to try again when she had healed fully. Her time had come finally after two months of planning, the guard was finally at the touch of her fingers.
Dulcina’s hands had found her prize, rusty rough scrap of metal fashioned into a makeshift key. When a big dark brown steel sabaton smashed into her right hand, the owner of the boot’s laughter echoing down at her as she cried out. She felt her knuckles aching and her fingers cracking as he kept pushing down, He let up and she swiftly yanked her arm through the bar her green eyes full of the same flame the fire held as she looked up.
“Would ya look at tha’ our favorite little chomper is all ready to run for it again today! Guess sha’ didn’t learn when tha’ Boys beat ya’ near to death last time did ya’” The shirtless man released a low growl behind a toothy grin. He had yellowing and aged teeth, a few were missing. His hair was greasy and long, a dirty shade of copper blonde, and he had stubble. It was Gremin. He was her usual teaser but he never laid a hand on her. His task was usually to walk around and spit out insults while he gave the disgusting slob of food to the slaves. His boss was who she was scared of. Cedany the damned bastard always beat her when she was returned whether it be his fists or the tricky tortures he thought would break her.
“Well Ah was goin’ to feed ya, but you seem energetic, Ah’ll eat this here food myself!” At his words she felt her rage engulf her chest as she reached an arm out, throwing a messy punch at his crotch. It was very effective as he flinched out a terror pain filled cry, dropping the slob and running for it. He ran into the head tent it seemed. But she gave up watching as she grabbed the fork that was in the bowl and yanked it to the lock of the cage. With effort and time, she managed to crank it in and she started turning it, listening to the clicks until on the seventh one it opened. Her eyes widened as she ran for it, fear in her heart as she cried out in thanks. “Please let me make it please…” -- She made it and ever since Dulcina has hidden who she was and hidden from her past.
