Rash'yeth groaned as the horse drawn cart hit a bump in the road, effectively jolting his newest bruise which stood out on his gut like a flag with the words 'kick me here' printed on it, he flicked the reins slightly, willing the horses to go faster, they needed to arrive at the Trader's Concourse for the monthly meeting before his master decided he was bored, it had only been about ten minutes since they had left the man's huge mansion and already Rash'yeth could hear him in the cabin, shifting restlessly. The cruel bastard had never been kind to any of the slaves, but then, what kindness had they deserved in the first place? Had it not been them who had taken that fate upon themselves? No, that wasn't true, but that was how their masters saw it. He let out a soft sigh as the horses pulled the cart along the cobblestone roads, he kept his eyes lowered and his shoulders hunched forward, he had learned the hard way that a proud slave was a dead slave and a dead slave was an angry master and an angry master meant more beatings, which eventually meant another dead slave, the cycle would repeat as it always had and always would, unless the slaves had anything to say about it, which they wouldn't.

"Slave! Faster or there'll be no table scraps for you!" he heard his master bellow from inside the cart, he lowered his head some more, giving the reigns another quick flick, they picked up speed slightly, but not enough, he knew he wouldn't have any food tonight, it was always that way, never any food for the slaves until they were starving, "I said speed up, not slow down, Slave, you're having a beating when we arrive," his master yelled from the cart, Rash'yeth flinched at the mention of a beating, it was a reflexive reaction, most slaves flinched when they heard mention of a beating in store for them, Rash'yeth let out a soft groan and rubbed his belly where there was already a large bruise, "Bastard, maybe we'd go faster if you treated the horses better," he mumbled quietly under his breath, not quiet enough it seemed as his master retaliated with, "Boy, you've just earned yourself a week of beatings and starvation," the man laughed as he said this, as if it gave him some form of sick, twisted amusement.

The cart came to a stop outside the Trader's Hall, where they would gather and discuss whatever needed to be discussed, Rash'yeth jumped down from the driver's seat and moved to the door, pulling it open and cringing back from the man inside with one motion, his owner jumped out and looked down at him angrily, Rash'yeth averted his eyes, looking to the ground, his head hung low, then pain wracked his body as a large fist connected with his belly, then came the second blow, a punch to the cheek, he stumbled back, landing next to one of the cart's wheels, "Get up!" he heard his master growl, he complied, he stood in front of his owner, waiting for the next blow, it came soon enough - a heavy blow to the nose, then a knee planted in his chest, he tumbled backwards, landing face down on the cobblestone road, he groaned, but nobody came to his aid, nobody seemed to care, in truth nobody cared at all, he tried to push himself up, but a foot landed rather suddenly in his chest, the force of the blow rolled him onto his back, "Now boy, you're not going to displease me any more, are you?" his master laughed, Rash'yeth only nodded, even that brought pain to his body, "Good, close the door and wait here," without another word his master was gone.

Slowly, Rash'yeth dragged himself to his feet, he heard the words of passing traders and their children, they sneered and laughed at what had been done to him, nobody came to help, nobody wanted to be seen helping a slave, doing that was treason. He coughed up a mouthful of foul-tasting saliva mixed with blood as he closed the door, eventually he managed to climb back up into the driver's seat of the horse-drawn cart, he sat there for a moment, not even considering running away, he would just die if he did that, he wiped his nose on his sleeve, it was bleeding badly enough, but that didn't make a difference, it had done that before and this certainly wouldn't be the last time, slowly Rash'yeth closed his eyes and simply waited, listening to the snorts and impatient movements of the horses.

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