Everyone remembers their first time in the big city. The sights, the sounds, being whipped to establish you are now a slave (ok so that last one might be unique to some people). It was days after we left Regor before we arrived in Quez (so named after one of the Red Hand emperors mistresses, which lead to a lot of delightful rumors about the people who lived there). Quez was everything Regor wasn't. It wasn't a direct port city, but it bordered a mountain range that lead to more of the larger cities in the Red Hand, and had thriving mineral mines located near by. Fed by ports like Regor and Delias (Regor to the south, Delias to the east) it sprung up from travel stop to massive marketplace pretty much over night. There were/are a lot of interesting economic coming and goings with Quez, but I'll stick with the past and how my first trip there went (because despite my love of the mundane I know no one else will ever find it exciting!)
We had been on dirt trails for about a week before we arrived. My captor didn't really speak to me after his initial reveal of selling me off. I did learn he had terrible culinary skills as what he considered food even hungry wild animals would have second thoughts about. In a sad way it was a relief when he turned me to over to the slave handlers (yeah despite ports and mineral mines Quez's most dominant trade good was human slaves, perhaps because of the ports and mineral mines...) at least they had edible food, even if it was a bit rotten (which makes no sense, here have this malnourished slave!) My first whipping occured shortly after that. I hadn't actually done anything to deserve it (which is the opposite of most of the punishment I've recieved ever), simply they had to "break" you so that you did as you were told, apparently just telling someone and seeing if they did it was beyond simple slaver logic. Now you may be thinking of a whipping in whatever simple implements you use now (mostly some form of leather with a handle). Back then in Red Hand territory they used a burner. This nasty enchanted item was actually metal links enchanted with fire, so it would close the wound shortly after whipping someone (so they couldn't bleed out, well without effort). Burners thankfully have gone away in recent years, aside from the occaisional sick twists. I had five lashings during a nice conversation about the importance of listening before I was tossed into a cell with others (still shackled mind you).
Now you may be thinking "Why didn't you use magic?" Mainly fear. Red Hand, despite being gluttonous magic users, were caste based rigidly. It was well known in Regor and even the Island I grew up that any slave that attempted to free himself would end up dead in a vareity of awful ways. Should I say break my bonds and attempt to flee I'd be dead before I made it anywhere, or I'd live only to be hunted down by the very Judge who tossed me in here in the first place. There were tales of slaves who lived horrid unlives, kept alive by magic only to be tortured for nobles amusement, these were the fates escaped slaves were sold in to, and it kept most of the rest of us in line.
My cell mates were mostly shorties (slaves are of all colors and heights, but since a lot of the slaves here ended up working the mines, shorties were prefered, easier access to the digging). Vicious feral little buggers, shorties tended to abandon society anyway, using to live in little trible packs in the wilderness (can't really blame them since again they are often enslaved). Their language skills were abysmal, speaking in mostly grunts and gestures. I sighed and sat in the corner, my first time to a big city and I was shackled and didn't really get to see any of it (I saw a gate, and then this crappy slave warehouse).
Of course this wouldn't be my first trip to a city in shackles, thankfully this would be the last time I've been a slave (currently, got to keep those options open). Things are looking pretty desperate right now I'll admit, but there is a light at the end of this tunnel, and not just because I ignited a bunch of people. Tomorrow I shall write of my first and only master!
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