There is no moon. There is no star. There is no sun. Only emptiness. And from that emptiness, a prayer is spoken. A prayer that becomes a miracle. A miracle paid for by an oath. An oath to live. An oath to die. ~☩~ Shattered Horizons Pieces of Clouds It fell slowly, drifting lackadaisically downwards until it joined its brethren. A solitary snowflake on the sullen port city. Wooden ships creaked and groaned, bobbing up and down as the wind playfully tugged at their furled-up sails. A few sailors cursed under their breath as they unloaded cargo in the sub-zero temperatures, enviously eying the smoke rose up from chimneys. A town of trade of all sorts, the number of inns and taverns vastly out-weighed the number of actual houses, and the revelry of those recently-paid could be heard down the snowy roads. Today was an especially exciting day for many who had come. The Braxton Hall would once again be opened for commercial use, meaning that the slave trade that had bolstered up Yuimas’s importance within Illiserev would once again begin. From aged or broken slaves purchased with only a smattering of coins, to the finest elven maidens worth their weight in gold, there was bound to be an article for everyone, at any price range. For now, though, wagons full of those ‘articles’ were still going in and out of the great hall, and its gates remained closed to the curious and the excited. @Click This @Zombehs After landing a few kilometers off from Yuimas, the Captain’s crewmates handed over a few cloaks to the underdressed individuals out of pity for the trek ahead. Armed with only a map of the town and its surrounding areas, a pouch of coins, and a pink-ish pearl that came along with the other two items, the duo found themselves knee deep in snow. Regardless of the opulence that Illiserev’s more successful merchants could indulge in, the land itself was harsh. With gray skies, a flat plain, and cutting winds, it wasn’t a very comfortable journey to the borders of the port city, even with Araki’s telekinesis supporting them. Nevertheless, they made it by the time the clocktower struck noon, and other than a few curious glances shot at the two weirdoes who seemed to have walked to Yuimas in such weather, they were free to explore. Or, more precisely, to continue their hunt. @Psyker Landshark @Izurich @Warm Regret Once the wagon arrived in the confines of Braxton Hall, Alexa could feel a downward shift as the wagon tilted forwards, going down an artificial slope until it stopped in an underground dungeon. Forced out with the rest of the women by the fat man and the ever-present Eiros, whose smile was enough to get the Dansilan women to obey the squealing shrieks of the slave trader, they were quickly categorized, led by faceless guards to different numbered rooms, from 1 to 10. Ashe was pushed into 2, the talentium needle still resting in her clenched fist. Wynn was escorted to 9, sparing a backwards glance at Alexa before she disappeared into the doorway. And Alexa, finally, found herself facing a door with a golden 6 nailed onto it. One of the guards brought out a set of keys from his hip and unlocked the door, as the other strong-armed Alexa into what could only be assumed as the cell. Except it wasn’t much of a cell at all. Should it be considered impressive, how organized everything was? Should it be considered surprising, how clean everything was? Or should it be considered disgusting, still, that these were just gilded cattle pens? The room was spotless and dry, a far cry from the conditions within the wagon. Though there was no furniture outside of a chamberpot and a couple of small beds, runetech lighting cast a warm glow over the room, and the floor was carpeted. There were a few other individuals within that room, most of them non-descript albeit for a woman with hair tied in twin tails and an androgynous figure with blue hair, but they all looked relatively well-fed and well-clothed, dressed in a white one-piece dress. It appeared that whoever owned the building, at least, was more concerned about the well-being of the slaves than the men that brought her here. Though the future was still uncertain, especially now that she was separated from her accomplices, it appeared that she could rest well for the time being. For now, at least, there was no threat of a vampire breathing down her back. @Ehb @Wayward Killjoy @Asuras @Skyswimsky A hive of scum and villainy was definitely one way to describe this immoral place. But then again, in Yuimas, an establishment like the Boar’s Hat was commonplace. Waitresses served patrons both above the table and under the table, as working men gambled away their life’s earnings or punched each other out. Drinks flowed freely from the tap, feeding the addiction of the alcoholics, and it was impossible to get any sort of proper conversation if one didn’t shout. Most patrons were already on the verge of passing out, and the sun hadn’t even neared the ocean yet. Why, then, was a maid, a sellsword, and two Astopolian knights even there, when at least three out of four would have been hit on five seconds within settling down in the tavern? Because even the most hardy individuals needed sleep, and to sleep without shelter in a wintry Illiserev was tantamount to suicide. Anyways, loosened lips were a fountain of knowledge, if one had the patience to listen to their owner’s ramblings.