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#9770676 Jul 19, 2014 at 09:25 PM · Edited 8 years ago
Member
59 Posts
Vran'Dul would return to his farm in Tigerspine , the cold night air brushing up against his fur as if to comfort him. Slumping his head low as he forces his tierd body along the sandy path , he would look to his left slightly , keeping an eye on the town, the golden glow of the lamps would flood the town square and roads.

The locals would be doing what they normally do, the odd bar fight erupting from out the inns main door, Women in large dresses and Harani hand fans luring the local miners in to spend their hard earned cash on their services.

Suddenly Vran'Dul would bump into someone, stumbling back slightly he would gather himself to look at the figure.

"S-sorry there , I didn't see you" said Vran'Dul with a playful grin on his face , soon torn off as his eyes focus on the man.

The figure would challenge him in height yet a Harani , arms crossed , fingers that would come out of black gloves completed with steel knuckle pads , would tap slowly on the other arms elbows .

" Vran'Dul ... There you are , your late ..." Replies the shady man.

" Im erm - Im sorry, I have your coin right here Mr Harth , sir " Vran'Dul would put his hands in his pockets slowly pulling out three gold coins , soon wacked out his hand by the man , leaving them to roll along the ground and into a yata pat.

" Five men of mine saw you talking to some strangers yesterday Vran ... Or should I say 'KoKo' ... Do I need to take you back to the cotton fields, give you another taste of the barbed whip ? Or are you going to be a good kitty cat and stick to our little agreement hmmm? "

" Y-Yes sir , it wasn't anything I promise , they only wanted to have a look around I promise you this! " Vran'Dul would reply running up to Mr Harth lowering himself onto one knee wrapping his arms around Mr Harths leg , looking up to him with guilt in his deep sea blue eyes.

Two more men with whips in their hands would come forth from the night like ghosts, Mr Harth would give a slight grin , his white teeth shine slightly in th light coming from the town . Raising his hand up and rushing it back down and across Vran'Dul's face , Vran'Dul would feel the metal nuckle pads cut into his cheek and find himself laying on the ground spitting blood.

" And so you did not go help the construction of a ship this afternoon , most likely to try and escape my grasp, and then go onto travel to mirage island to look at housing, most likely to live in?! You know how I feel about you running away from our little family Vran'Dul... " said Mr Harth with anger built up behind his words, he would then click his fingers an point to Vran'Dul the two men coming forward Abit more , unleashing their whips upon Vran'Dul's skin, the crack of the whips bringing flash backs of Vran's childhood to him .

Gritting his teeth and his claws gripping the ground as the whips bring pain and agony to him and re-open scars upon his back and arms, once hidden with in his fur. With every crack of the whip Vran'Dul would let out a pain filled whine fueling the happiness on Mr Harths face .

Vran'Dul would roll onto his back as a whip strike would land itself right into an old cut and hit a nerve , he would open his eyes slightly towards the men but to his surprise a solid boot would land right onto his face , with no time to react Vran'Dul would find himself knocked out , left to bleed from reopened wounds on the side of the road .

Spitting on Vran'Dul and leaving him to lie in yata droppings , Mr Harth would laugh putting a cigar in his mouth , taking a small match from his pocket and lighting it on a small piece of sandpaper within the wide varity of piece of cloth around his wrist .

lighting the cigar and throwing the match onto Vran'Dul, being put out by his wet crimson blood trickling through parts of his fur, all three of the men would snicker at the pathetic Firrens attempts to defend himself, walking off into the night.

The next morning Vran'Dul would drag himself off the side of the road lifting himself and dusting himself down, one or two of the locals eyeing him as if shocked at the fact he was not dead after all. His eyes would glare naturaly now, a deep low growl emtting from him, hands faned out, claws out on full display. As the growl get slightly more obvious as anger builds up within him, his lips would shake , slowly opening up into a snarl, fangs dripping with blood tinted soliva. Spitting his blood filled mouth on to the sandy road , watching it soak into the yellow and white substance before turning his glare upon the mountains leading to Arcum Iris.

The slaves would be working in the fields , rows upon rows of cotton plants being painstackingly picked by hand by a few hundred slaves, a mix between male and female Firren. The yard would be in the shape of a triangle so that only one post had to be manned at the corner so that all the slaves were in view. Among the slaves were Harani enforcers, their whips modified with barbed wire at every foot along the whip. The men would walk up and down the rows of slaves picking the cotton, whipping them all at random to keep the fear in their eyes.

At the post in the corner would be two more Harani enforcers equipped with long bows made out of yew, elven markings would run down the bow painted in a deep matted blue, their eyes scanning the yard constantly. Behind them would be a gazebo held aloft by ornate oak supports, soft Harani silks would drape across it and sway softly in the hot winds. Inside would be a large display or different pillows and rugs along the floor all with their own special textile , a true array of reds, golds and browns.

Sitting in the gazebo would be Mr Harth sitting there smoking on a large pipe that would run into a ornate tower with green tinted glass orbs filled with liquid bubbling. on each side of him two women both wearing long white dresses and transparent white fabric which would caress their skin as they move their arms slowly, using their hands to touch Mr Harths arms , face and chest as they giggle softly to him. Mr Harth would be watching the field from where he was sat through the small parting between the entrance of the gazebo with his devilish grin.

A soft hum would fill the yard slowly but surely, the next Firren joining in as the one to his left begins. the slaves would transform the hum into a beat as they work, a series of stomping as they picked the cotton along with their deep humming.

" With the sting of the whip on my shoulder
The salt of my sweat on my brow
Tahyang Kahlzit, god up high
still can you not hear your people cry
Come help us now ,in our dark hour

Deliver us
hear our prayers and deliver us
Your people dont deserve to be
whiped and enslaved by Harani

deliver us
Hear our prayers and deliver us
Are we at a loss, is this supposed to be
Are the gods confused
is this not pain they see

Hear our call and deliver us
Tahyang Kahlzit please dont forget about us
dont leave us here
dieing here in the burning sands
there was a land you promised us
deliver us , deliver us to the promised land."

The guards would roll their eyes as the Firren sing, some even laughing at them.




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#9774547 Jul 20, 2014 at 09:53 PM · Edited 8 years ago
Member
59 Posts
It would come around to night once more , too tierd to even find a nice tree to sleep in he would make haste to his farm, dragging his body along to the large patch of cotton plants , where he may rest his head.

His strong alcohol filled belly would feel tense and have an urge to throw everything back up every minute he stumbled around in the cold night air. Too tierd to see straight he would soon end up getting lost in town , his fuzzy drunk mind making everything just haze over , he was not even sure if right was left . Soon stumbling into an alleyway he would growl as he catches his foot on a crate to the side of the past , stumbling down the path at a fast paste , just trying to keep his balance.

SMACK , his face would make friends with the wall at the end of the alley where there would be a small T junction . A puddle of urine would splash over his chest as his face slides down the wall, then he began to roll in it as he holds his head in pain.
Just hiding around the corner of the T junction to his right would be a large Firren figure , the alley would be too dark to see what sex they were or what they even looked like.

The Firrens deep crimson red eyes would be glossy in the moon light , inviting and friendly looking , but as Vran'Dul shakes his head and squints to focus his gaze, what he thought were friendly eyes were glaring at him , a fair amount of anger built up behind them.

" you know, for a slave that was given the rights from his master to roam free as long as the job gets done ... You do waste your limited freedom "the figure would say in a deep Firren accent , very butch but well spoken.

" C-Can I help you? "

" No Vran'Dul, the real question is can I help you, look at yourself , right now your rolling in piss and drunk ... " replays the deep male voice

A large muscular arm coverd in black fur would extend towards Vran'Dul , happily accepting the help with no words to be said as he looks over himself and his sarroundings , he would take the hand and get lifted up off the muddy alley floor.

" why are you helping me ?" Vran'Dul replayed with a shocked expression drawn all over his face.

" Because I have a brother Mr Vran'Dul and he is trapped in the slave camp Mr Harth calls paradise ... I know that you would die for the chance to reek vengeance on that man and hey, maybe even find out where you come from ?" The Firren replies , a low deep purr coming from him as he looks into Vran'Dul's eyes . " Come meet me in the towmsquare a day from now and I will give you a name of a guy to go find "

" who's name? "

" well I know that you have been dieing for the chance to get a ship, and I know a guy "

" wait, how can I even trust you? For all I know , Mr Harth could have sent you , this could be a trap in order to get me out in the open!"

The black furred Firren would sigh deeply letting go of Vran'Duls hand , looking down the alleyway towards the town centre. A gust of night air would brush through the black mane of the man, a moment of silence would strike before turning his gaze back upon Vran'Dul.

" You don't have to trust me , but believe me when I tell you that my brother has been enslaved for -life- by that son of a bitch Harth ... You shouldn't trust me as it was I who had been spying on you, it was I who told MR Harth all about you ... " the black Firren would murmur with a sadistic sigh. The man would take out a small money pouch from his pocket , shaking it " it was I who took the money from him as a rew- gaaaggguugh"

Before the man could finished the sentience , Vran'Dul would rush to his feet and slam his hand against the Firrens neck , constricting his flat around the Firrens jugular veins with a snarl engraved onto his face. The pouch would fall from the Firrens hand as he is pinned against the wall and slowly lifted by Vran'Duls brute strength.

" So it was you who has been spying on me hmmmmm! Selling information to the masters of slaves which want to obtain their freedom from a life's entitlement of pain, torment and anguish!?" Growls Vran'Dul , his inner beast taken over , a small hint of bloodlust in his eyes as he watch his sharp claws cut into the Firrens flesh.

" Let me go, please! I - guuuuhggg - did it to try and find you, the money is all yours! I wanted you to use it to get my brother and yourself free- guuuuhggg" The Firren would say with a rushed tone , choking in places as Vran's claws slowly begin to crush his neck, his voice altering slightly as his voice box is put under pressure.

Vran'Dul lets the Firren go, the body of the shocked and now seeming fragile Firren would slide down the wall and rolling into the muddy wet alley floor.

Vran'Dul would snatch the coin purse from the ground and clutch it into his palm . Spitting on the floor then turning his beast like snarl back on the Firren before heading off out into the town centre

"I'm not promising anything ... "


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#9786030 Jul 23, 2014 at 01:53 PM · Edited 8 years ago
Member
59 Posts
The slaves would lie, scattered around in small groups in the now empty field, twilight filling the sky. Stars would begin to fill the black void as night falls, some of the Firren still awake as they wait for the daily epic show that plays itself every night within the cosmic arena.

There would be a Firren sat up against the wall of the camps field, back pressed against the cold weight walls, knees tugged up against his chest, he would look up towards the stars with a sigh.

" In the depths of a fiery pit
must all these Harani burn
I tell you gods
the tide of war will turn

Tired are we Firren of these Harani scum
Its about time they learned
We will rise we will rise
we will cut them down where they stand
their blood will replace all this sand

we will rise we will rise
what is it they have that we don't
It sure aint strength and size
we will rise...we will rise

They think they are the masters of the east
that we are just another tame-able beast
oh gods please fuel our needs

as we will rise we will rise
we will decapitate them all
and watch with a grin as their brain fries
we will rise we will rise
turn their families into pies
give them to our warriors
as our empires flag flies

we will rise we will rise
we will turn the tides of war
even you gods will learn hate
of you had seen what I had saw
we ...will...rise"
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