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Archives: Failed Storyline: Bastion’s Demons 1

Chapter 3: Infiltrating the Slave Market

    Just about the only place to easily find the shackles they needed was the very place they were going. Edric would have to pilfer some unused manacles for Krhea and Cissiria, as he seemed to have the skills for it, and his height made it easy for him to sneak around. Meanwhile, the rest of the group waited for his return in a shadowed alley a good distance from the slave market.

    Through dark passages Edric chinked and clamored with the sound of clinking metal chains. They were quite long and heavy for someone his size, so he had to wrap them all around his torso and over his shoulders to keep them from leaving a trailing behind him. He wasn’t entirely certain whether it was the great weight he now carried or the danger he had evaded that made his heart pound all the way down to his knees. Trotting with difficulty through shadowed back streets and alley ways, he faintly recalled his ordeal slinking passed men of ill intentions, into warehouses, and searching half-broken crates without rest. But, his mind was now most absorbed in the effort of bearing the great metal shackles, and he could think of little else.

    Edric clumsily slowed his pace from a great dash to an awkward, abrupt jogging that would have otherwise appeared to be a boy trying to skip, though very badly. Cissiria’s silhouette soon came into focus, and he immediately knew he had gone the right way, for he could never mistake her figure, even after hardly knowing her at all. The others began to come into view as well, and the memories of the very reason for the heavy burden he carried had quickly returned to him. He stopped to catch his breath, huddling down under the weight of the chains.

    “Alright!” he exclaimed with a breathy sigh. Edric stumbled back as he struggled to slip the chains back over his head. As they clamored to the ground, Edric fell back with a great thud, glad to no longer be on his feet. It had been an awful experience carrying those shackles for the little time that he did. He couldn’t even imagine how horrid it would be to be chained down all day long. Now sitting on the dirty pathway of the alley, he raising his head far up to look back at his companions. The illusion of being surrounded by true slave owners would have been easy to mistake, for such a dark alley could make an ordinary man appear suspicious. He knew better though. They were the good ones. Much better than the slave owners for sure, but much better than him, too.

    “I couldn’t see all that well, but I hope I got everything all right.” Edric gathered together the chains with his delicate hands and rose to his knees, heaving them up in his arms to be taken.

    “Bravo!” Bastion crowed softly as Edric returned, laden with chains. The mage bent down to take the manacles from the child. “Well done. Ohff...” The weight of the chains surprised him. “Well done indeed, hauling this lot.”

    Bastion glanced around his companions. “Alright, who gets what?”

    “Thank you very much,” Cissiria said to Edric, bending down. “You did a very good job.” Her compliment sounded highly patronizing, as she was speaking to Edric like he was a child. However, her intention was out of pure gratitude, as they still had no idea he was a grassrunner.

    “Yes, good job, Edric, you are full of surprises,” Alleria said with a smile. “If I have this figured out right, the restraints would be going on Khrea and Cissiria. The rest of us have to maintain the story that we captured both of them after their escape from the slavers on the docks.” Frowning then, she continued, “I’m sorry to have to do this to both of you, I know it is demeaning to have to walk like this, even if it is for a short time. No one should have to be bound unless it is their own wish.” The memories of her time in captivity flooded back bringing sadness to her eyes and demeanour. “Lets get this done and hope no one gets hurt in the process.”

    The slim shamaness put her hands outstretched to receive the shackles around her delicate wrists. “I don’t need mobility to have the spirits crush the life out of the people we’re searching for,” Krhea said in a flat tone. “The only hindrance these foul things have is the smell.”

    Daulag nodded and gave a leery smile. He was a goblin, and suited for this ruse. “Let’s go, Daulag know drill. Guard slaves, others talk.”

    “Which reminds me, of the two of us...” Bastion gestured between himself and Alleria, “...Who’s in charge? I do like to lead, but I’m not very knowledgeable about these things. I may make some odd mistakes if I talk too much.”

    Cissiria mimed Krhea in putting out her wrists to be shackled. What the shamaness said sent a chill up her spine and she gave Krhea a sidelong glance; she never considered using the spirits for such unsavory means. “I... I suppose Alleria is,” Cissiria said, hesitant, as she recovered from Krhea’s statement.

    “Makes sense. Then I shall play the arrogant hired mage. Shouldn’t be too hard a role for me, seeing as how it’s partially true.” As he spoke, Bastion fished a set of manacles out of the pile. The mage then approached Cissiria and made a little bow. “Your pardon, Milady,” he said, as he fitted the shackles on the centaur’s wrists. “There. Do they feel like they’re on right?”

    Cissiria gave her wrists a little shake and twisted them in the manacles to test. “Yes,” she replied, then dropped her hands in front of her. It was exciting to think of tempting danger like this, but intimidating as well. Cissiria readily trusted her newly found companions though, even if Krhea’s ideas on how to use the spirits were contrary to what she was taught.

    Watching the shackles and collars being put into place, Alleria frowned. Are we doing the right thing? she thought with a frown. Being an expert in disguise, trickery, and deceit was one thing but to use those gifts to any end may still be wrong. The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

    Shuddering and trying to find a better train of thought, she turned to the mismatched group. “I think we are ready, why don’t you lead the way Edric my little guide friend? Daulag why don’t you take the chains of Miss Krhea, I will lead the prized centauress, and Bastion, please have our backs covered.

    “Places everyone, prisoners looking defiant or defeated however you wish, bad guys looking mean.” Alleria followed Edric out of the alley way, as an after thought she fished a coin out of her pocket and cast a glamour over it to look like a Raiden. “Hey Edric, why don’t you flip this while your walking? It can look like a finders fee for you.”

    Bastion quickly fixed the remaining pair of shackles around Krhea’s wrists. “My apologies for this, miss,” he said softly as he worked. “Remind me that I owe you and Cissiria for this afterwards.” Finishing, Bastion handed the lead off to Daulag. The mage straightened his coat as he walked to the back of the line, assuming a expression of arrogant disinterest as he took his place.

    Daulag took the lead and wrapped it around his hand twice for grip. Looking to Krhea, he then took the look of a rather wary and rough guard as he waited for the others. “Daulag ready.”

    As they took their positions, Cissiria got into character, playing the part of defeated, captured and subdued. She hung her head low, her shoulders slumped, and her tail hung as well. Despite being shackled, she didn’t feel the same discomfort that some of the others seemed to feel. It was all just a show after all, she wasn’t really captured, and even if she was, with only her hands tied, she could easily escape.

    The walk down the rest of the way to the docks was for the most part uneventful. Riff raff and ruffian alike took a moment to scope out the little group as they walked passed. Small talk was avoided by everyone in case they would have a slip of the tongue and give away their true intentions. The slave house tended to get busier at sunset because it hid small imperfections on most slaves to be sold. As well, the fading sun glinted off their skin and tended to give most of them exotic looks.

    As they approached the front door, it was up to Edric to knock and show the coin Alleria had given him. The grassrunner led the way, flipping the coin in the air as he was told. When the reached the slave market, they found a pair of double doors guarded by a pair of thugs.

    “What’s yer business?” one of the thugs said, jerking his chin toward Alleria, as she seemed to be the leader. “Got some merchandise?”

-—End—-

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