Insanity Isle (Lyzan, Lillian Thorne, Tirgesfu)

[Lillian Thorne]

Saidah had long ceased vomiting from the motion of the ship, partly because she had grown used to it and partly because she had nothing left to vomit forth. So she hung limply from her shackles against the beam, her long black hair, tangled and befouled, formed something of a screen as she stared wide-eyed into the one refuge she had left: the past.

One of far too many mouths to feed in a land where it cost money in the form of a dowry to rid oneself of one’s daughters, she had been dedicated to the goddess when she was only five years old. She had been born the fifth girl in a large family and had been lucky enough to have come into the world with a butterfly shaped birthmark on her right buttock. That had marked her as the Goddesses own and had sealed her fate. It had been a happy fate however and she’d spent a golden childhood on her family’s country estate, playing amongst fruit trees as ripe with fruit as her mother had been with children.

When she had grown into a lovely girl only just starting to lose her baby fat she’d been taken to the temple of the Virgin goddess where, despite her young age, she had been examined to insure her purity. That ordeal had been uncomfortable and had been the worst moment of her life, but it was over soon and once she had been proven she had waved goodbye to her quietly sobbing mother walked and into the walled garden of the temple which had been three times as large and five times as lush as the one she’d grown up in. She was instantly enchanted by her surroundings which was good because she was supposed to never to step foot out again.

She loved her life. Service to her goddess and her temple had come easily to the sweet child. She was biddable and teachable and was soon a favorite amongst the veteran priestesses. Saidah had excelled in music and dance and often tendered her worship in those forms, her young body a prayer in motion. There had been the annual checks to be certain she was still fit to serve the goddess and though they were a torment she endured them for fear of losing her place in this rich and fragrant place she loved.

All was well until the day they were raided. She didn’t know what brought it about as news of the outside world was been restricted and if the elder priestesses knew of wars and rivalries that put the temple at risk they had said nothing and being elderly women they would no longer say anything. Having no marked value their throats had been slit. The men, dark smelly things with scars and blades and crude words had swarmed into the temple like a cloud of locusts and had begun their feast and slaughter. The novices were largely rounded up for sale but the young priestesses were not so fortunate and many a girl had cause to envy the elder priestesses who now enjoyed the embrace of their goddess.

Saidah had hidden and likely this had saved her for when they found her, all sweet curves and golden skin most of their lust had been slaked. Even so one of them tried to take from her that which she had saved for the goddess. Something happened then that Saidah, even now hanging from her shackles couldn't recall. She had gone berserk and had kicked and punched and bit, writhing like a snake and had fought back so viciously that it had taken five men to subdue her. She was beaten and battered, her nose broken and one eye so battered it was swollen shut. Even then she fought biting and twisting with a strength that was largely unaccountable. When unconsciousness finally claimed her she was deemed to beaten and battered and now ugly to be worth the work and they left her as she had been, intact.

When she woke up she had been hanging from the chains that now bound her on this ship for who knew where surrounded by dark shapes and crates that growled and rattled menacingly. She had wept at first, then she’d vomited and now she just hung and waited her soft curves and small body out of place in this world of large vicious things and so she dreamt of the garden she would never see again.

Insantiy Isle OOC

[tirgesfu]

Jaymz would always remember the taste of salt on his lips. And the color blue. Both were new sensations. His life, up to this point, had been shades of yellow and brown, sand and stone. Just like his body, brown and hard, his home had been void of color or frills. His rock hard hands, thick neck, solid arms, tight chest and stomach showed little give or plasticity. What did give, what did move, were his dark brown eyes. They shifted taking thing in. Even his sand colored hair that laid flat against his head moved less than his eyes. Everywhere he casts his eyes he saw blue.

Like all of the chained prisoners on the boat, he didn’t speak. What could he say? He didn’t share his awe inspired reverence of the blue sky meeting the blue waters. It was something he had never seen before. But he shared it with no one, because as much as the ocean was spectacular it was also frightening. The vastness didn’t scare him, he was of the desert. It was the unknown taste upon his lips and rattled his core.

Then again it could be the chains that placed him in a scene so unfamiliar. This was not a trip to explore the regions unknown to him. This was forced. Taken from the depth of defeat through a world totally foreign was a deliberate effort to break his soul. That he knew. When the slavers came by the emery camp it was the fire in the movement of his eyes they noticed. That’s why he was chosen. He knew this as well.

It was no surprise that the victors would take their spoils. It was a surprise how far away that was. Jamyz defied no one but he never let down his determined eyes. He was traded and sold from one camp to the next, from the desert all the way to where the green field touched the wide open blue sea. But it didn’t stop there.

If they are looking for a strong heart that was what he will give them. Each time his tongue tasted the salt mysteriously placed upon his lips in drops of heavy moisture he would suck that salt to his soul. It would take more than vast blueness to soften his sand and stone.

[Lyzan]

An exclaiming shout was heard on deck, one that was coarse and in a language too foreign for their unwilling passengers on board to even comprehend. None could understand these dark and scarred men as they barked to each other with their foul and blackened tongue but they've heard these creature speak their language before. Even among themselves, they seemed hostile yet they're capable of working together towards the same goal. Their features bore a pair of huge orange eyes with a bursting black star-like shape centering it, making them rather feral looking. Huge arching and crooked nose with sharp tip pointing south, centered their faces and their mouth; thin dark lips exposing rows of thick, yellow and sharp teeth which made them forever plastered with a grin. Pointed ears as huge as a man's hand peeled back over the sides of their skull and on their head were the multitude of thick and long braids. They stood taller than any average men were and their built were rugged and clearly were they marked with scars of countless brawls.

The crews rushed and occupied themselves with the docking procedures before the sound of heavy rattling chains was heard. An almost chaotic scene of curses, wild gesture and taunting yet somehow they were cooperatively functional as a team. One of them appeared, a lot meat-ier than the majority of their kind and had a nasty scar over the right eye. It barked an order and the rest began hissing to the prisoners, pulling those that were slumped back onto their feet. Some recieved a fierce backhanded slap before literally being dragged up to their feet. Chains were pulled on one end, leading them towards the docking bay.

"On yaw fitt! Moov!" one barked into the ear of a man with who'd the hue of earth.

A heavy fist was delivered into the tight abdomen before it yanked him forward with the very chain that'd bounded the man earlier. It stared into this man eyes for a moment before it grunted and began moving.

The sounds of turning locks were heard, seemingly in a hurry. It creaked opened sharply before a loud slam of thick and heavy cage hitting onto wooden deck was heard. Light flooded through the dark underdeck, blinding the occupants below momentarily. The captives below attempted to scurry away from them, a useless effort as the vile creatures landed with a thud and were already upon them. Their grins widened and their black tongue stuck out to lick teeth rather than lips. Some already started drooling as they walked passed the first few with spreaded hands brushing over the bodies.

A huge and rough hand slammed onto the head of a woman before it clawed its fingers, pulling her to a stand by the black and long tangled up hair. It's face came close to observe the face with a broken nose and one swollen eye. It chuckled before exclaiming,

"Wayk up, Beech!" and she too were dragged first towards the light of day behind the rest before joining the long line of captives which were now heading into the rich tropical forest.

---
Some days ago while at sea, belowdeck.

"What do they want with us?" one had whispered weakly from within the darkness and silence aside from the occasional growls and snarls within those crates.

"What are they?" the woman asked again towards the sound of a whimper.

"They're..." another began but had to pause and swallow before she resumed, "They're known as Varoogla'.. A race of marauders who gathered potential meals for... their entertainments. They're skilled trackers and warriors... I've read a lore about..." she was interupted then.

"Shh.. Please, you don't want to wake whatever it is that is here with us, do you.. Be quiet.." silence but the sound of rumbling growls resumed.

---
On deck.

"Hey.. Where are they taking us? Do you know?" the man hissed.

"To an island.. Some crazy island.. Insanity Isle, or something.." another replied in the same tone and volume.

"Whatever for?"

"To fight for our freedom.. I heard of this tale once but I thought it was mere hearsay.. I heard we'll be made to fight..."

"To fight? I'm a farmer.. I'm no fighter.."

"They'll train you.. These things loves challenges...." a breath was knocked out from the man's lungs as a Varoogla's foot stomped into his midsection.

"No tawk!" it barked.

[tirgesfu]

The endless blues at last ended. Or were interrupted by the all shades of green with flowers and birds the colors of the rainbow. But those were still things only noticed by Jaymz’s eyes. His body was locked in backs and browns, the rust of chains and the splinters of timbers. He did not resist the pulls on the shackles. When the black tongues waged at him and their orange eyes caught him, Jaymz looked back. He didn’t blink. It was not angry defiance that Jaymz’s eyes reflected. It was more as if he was observing, storing the scenes before him. But the calm in his eyes could be unnerving.

The hits, punches to his stomach did cause his shoulders to round and his head to drop briefly. His muscles jerked reacting to the blow. As their eyes found each other again Jaymz returned the unblinking searching look as if the orange inside the captors eyes could tell him anything. He knew it could not. But let the creature wonder if Jaymz saw anything.

In a line, chained together the prisoners walked. It was the first time they took more than a few steps around the deck in days. Some were unsteady. One or two fell. Quickly those ahead and behind lifted the chains and attempted to pull the fallen up. They walked from the deck down the plank to the sandy shore. Sand. But it was bright white not the yellow and browns more familiar to Jaymz. It was as if the sands sparkled against the blues and greens.

Once off the boat they stood in line. Just stood. Jaymz did what he had learned to do all through the different times of captive waiting. He tighten each muscle, one at a time, and then released and repeated. He started with his neck. Tight. Release. Press each muscle as hard as he could. Let it go and do it again. His bicseps. Hold tight and release. His chest. It filled his mind. It filled his body.

There on the dazzling sand with the explosion of color around him Jaymz felt each muscle move as he stood still and waited.

[Lillian Thorne]

Pain woke Saidah up, pain more than the fearsome yelling face scant inches from her own, though that certainly finished the job. The pain of a blow to her skull followed by the pain of her hair being pulled was what she came back to from her world of dreams, gardens and worship. She cringed at the sight of those rows of teeth so close to her and her squeak was neither brave nor voluntary. But she was meek, and followed along with the others when directed. She stood on the sand that burn her delicate dancer’s feet and stared straight ahead and tried to recite the prayers they sang at the spring equinox as a method of distraction. She’d seen another of the prisoners cuffed soundly when he had wobbled on his feet and she wanted no such attention, any attention really.

So she stood, her feet burning and realized how rapidly she was losing her prayer. Goddess help me, she prayed mentally but the silence she had always heard when she prayed seemed empty now instead of just filled with a distant awareness. That too was a pain, shame in herself for her lack of faith filled her as well as rage for a goddess whom she had gratefully served her whole life and whom had seemingly abandoned her. She stared straight ahead at the filthy tangled head of another prisoner and tried to be still, small and unnoticeable.

The creatures, the Varoogla, as someone had whispered in the dark of the hold were cruel and seemed to delight in their cruelty. She hoped that by being small and still she might save herself some of the trouble the fighters seemed to bring upon themselves. For a while she had contemplated making a fuss, fighting and drawing attention that she might pull down upon herself sufficient violence that she would no longer be chained to the life that was rapidly growing unlivable. But even in her haze she had seen that though these beings were vicious, they never went so far as to kill, at least they hadn’t so far. So she remained silent, still and hopefully unnoticed.

[Lyzan]

Soon, the captives were in lines of threes, walking side by side with the Varooglas leading them; pulling at their chains. Those that trailed behind or slowed the line down became their target for a good whiping. Some of those creatures stayed behind to unload more of those mysterious cargo they had with them. They pulled at the ropes, which were connected to pulleys that'd dangled over the iron hatch where the female prisoner were once held. There, the crates were hoisted one at a time. They'll be taking a different route to the destination which would be a couple of days more than those on foot.

Then, a sound of dragging chains, seemingly more than needed was heard. Some of them turned about and saw what had made such a drag. Bound in chains thicker and heavier looking than necessary, was a man covered in his own dry blood and was clothed with dry mud. He seemed battered and bruised. Not only was he dragged forward mercilessly and was at a different pace than the rest, he was also whipped by an angrier looking Varoogla as he went. The man grunted and winced as the whip tore on his back, exposing flesh of blood. He wasn't in a line like how the rest were and the hospitality, the treatment given to him made some of the captives felt fortunate for being where they now were.

"My god... Why are they doing that to him?" one in line, a male spoke, addressing to nobody in particular.

"That's Zorteus.. He'd killed five of them creatures before he was captured.." came the reply.

"Then why not just kill him instead..?" the first male asked.

"That's not our place to ask, friend.." was the answer.

Zorteus

He forced his head to level with the horizon as best as he could. Aiding him with the weight of the chains around his shoulders were his hands that were shackled to the planks by his neck. Like an offender of some unduly crimes, a prisoner of sorts, he was dragged by these hideous breeds under such conditions. Fatiqued, thirsty and hungry, Zorteus held on for as long as he could. His heart still ached for the lost and the heat in his eyes still burnt but no longer could he shed tears. He'd wept in his captivity while onboard the vessels and had mourn for the death of his wife and son. These creatures killed them before his eyes. They stole from him the reason to fight, the reason to live. Zorteus was now a broken man. He'd given up fighting and accepted death just then but these creatures, these Varooglas refused to grant him the opportunity to reunite with his family.

Zorteus stumbled and fell to his knees. There's been times that he just wanted to stay still, to disobey and to not oblige with their commands just so that they could just end it. But to his dismay, these beings knew how not to go overboard with their tormenting torture. They knew how to keep him conscious and inflict enough pain without dying. One would consider themselves lucky if they'd managed to even sleep through the torments.

Another stripes marked his hide and the stinging bite from the whip overlapped the one previously made, Zorteus cried out his pain. The one behind, tugged viciously at the chains to the planks and lifted him off the ground. He stood up and kept up with the pace with the Varoogla ahead of him. Many a times he tried to picture an image of his beloved, hoping that they could give him the strength he needed to live on but everytime he did, Zorteus' heart just sank deeper and his determination was drained. He wished it to be over with quickly. So, he obeyed as best as he could for now just so that he would reach to where ever it was they're bringing him to.

He knew there were others but his ears had been ringing since he'd been onboard the ship thus he heard them no more. He knew there were captives but his eyes had been swollen from crying that he'd saw them no longer. He knew he'd been talked to but the heated lump in his throat won't allow him to reply. He was in bad shape and his senses were about to be stolen away from him and Varoogla knew this. Hence the rush to take him into the arena for treatment. Hence the rush to cover the three walking day journey as fast as possible.

[tirgesfu]

Jaymz tried not to turn his head at all, as the sound of metal clashed, pulled, scraped, and clanged just to his side. His head did not move but his eyes did. He saw the man beaten, stretched between wooden planks, cut and bruised, tattered and burned, whipped and kicked, tortured beyond what the rest have endured. He quickly looked back. It was not an image he needed to study. Instead he found his eyes looking at long pieces of black hair. Women. There were even women in the line of chains. The hair blew back from the row in front of him.

These were things he didn’t want to see. Where were the endless blue waves now? Gone. Like everything in his life, gone. But his mind and body, as torn and fragile as it was, was still there. He could move his fingers. And he did, just to check. He could blink and see the colors of the sea. Memory. That was what he would grab onto. His muscle would remember their old strength and flexibility. His mind would remember the colors of places he passed through, the smells of his old camp fires, the taste of sand and salt, and the touch of his woman.

He glanced to the sand that covered his toes as he shuffled. He thought as he looked to the ground how do you remember the brightness of the past without feeling the pain of the future?

[Lillian Thorne]

They marched for hours, endless pain filled steps. The Varoogla were as cruel as ever, with their sparse heavily accented words and their brutal hands, but it was almost like background noise now to Saidah. Like the call of cicada’s in the beginning of their season, deafening and overwhelming and by the time they began to die off the noise had faded, not in volume but in the notice you paid to it. The pain was like this for her. She noticed it much less, which was a good thing because the travel was a new pain and might have overwhelmed her had the old one not become so common. The chains chafed and restricted movements, she was either moving too fast or too slow dependent on the paces of the people around her. Her wooden movements hindered those ones just as equally and so they shuffled in contagious misery to a place that could only get worse. She had a feeling the Varoogla had much worse in store for them and were cruel now only out of habit, that they were saving their creativity for wherever it was they were taking them.

Sometimes, she could forget for a bit that the world had gone to hell. When they passed a patch of green growth, thick and lush with life she could sometimes fix her eyes on it and use it to take her back to her beloved gardens, when there were flowers to be seen she was transported instantly. But inevitably they marched past and she was taken once again out of that world of dream she so desperately wanted to be in. Sometimes, almost as if sensing that there was joy being had one of the captors would deliberately step on the growth and twist, inflicting maximum damage and pulling her back into the world of pain in an instant.

She’d stopped eating, quietly handing her meager portions to the people alongside her. They hadn’t given up and so they deserved the fuel that would keep them going. She hadn’t been detected doing so yet and was careful to keep it quiet for fear of being discovered. She didn’t want to contemplate what would be done to her if such a thing were discovered. And so she marched, chained and empty growing smaller and smaller the closer they got to where they were going.

[Lyzan]

After three days of tideous walking and two nights of restless sleep, they finally arrived upon a massive wooden gate. It seemed impossible for humans to possibly open them but upon the barking order of a Varoogla, it was dragged opened. The sound of grinded boulders and rattling chains were heard as it creaked wide. When they entered, there was yet another gate -a much smaller one with spears jutting out- which then were lifted outward for them to enter. What was revealed to them then was a sight that might further drive some of the captives into panic. Stealing from them whatever remnants of hope they'd clung onto left, the hope to go through it, the hope to escape. The cries, groans and moans of both men and women could be heard and their frail arms reached out for those that just entered through the caged tunnel which they've to go through. Some seemed very weak and the air about them, reeked with rot and waste. A pitiful sight, an unpleasant atmosphere.

"Please.. Help us!" one said, no longer was he sane to properly evaluate the condition of those that just came in.

The Varooglas laughed and swatted those reaching arms as they went through. At times, one could be seen sniffing in deeply the stench that were emitted and grinned at it as if it was something pleasant before the creature tugged on the chains. Decaying bodies could be seen, scattered behind the gathered folks. They'd even climbed onto the roof of the tunnel, pleading for rescue. Their touch were weak over the captives shoulders and most of their gestures were almost similar to those that sought for blessings. Blessings for strength perhaps, for safety or for hope.

A Varoogla in the front pushed aside a flap of a tentage ahead and into new grounds the captives had set their foot in. The place was huge and here, tentages of Varooglas were sparsely located. A healthy bulk of a man then approached the leading Varoogla. He had his face pierced with pointed bones as studs which made him look rather inhuman, almost like one of them except for the pallid hue for his skin. It seemed that he was a man of status as the Varoogla stepped aside for him. He went by each captives and inspected them closely.

"I see that once again your kind just couldn't keep the merchandise in good shape! They can't perform very well for the crowd if they can't carry themselves! And that would piss the lords greatly! Until your men learn to be less careless with them, I'll cut the price down by a quarter for these!" he exclaimed.

"Syre, we did best we kuld.." the creature replied before it scurried off when the man turned to face it.

[tirgesfu]

From wide open blue to the explosion of green and bright colors to dark gates, holes, and tunnels. The few steps from the jungle grasses to inside the massive gate was like going from daylight to darkness in one blink of an eye. The change so dramatic Jaymz could not see. But he could smell the horror. He could hear the pain. He could feel their heated cries and spindly fingers reaching, reaching, reaching.

He tightened around himself. As if trying to keep the outside from entering in, he tighten his muscles. He clenched his jaw. He shut his ears and refused to identify the putrid smell. He instead concentrated on each step. When he lifted one foot he contracted the muscles. Then as he placed it on the ground he released it. He thought hard on each step, each muscle in each foot. And still the sounds around him filtered into his body.

The smaller man in front of him began to moan. It was a wail that started low and then increased in pitch and volume. It was as if he was adding harmony to the howls. “Stop it.” Jaymz heard his voice and almost did not recognize it. He hadn’t meant to speak. But the sharp sound stopped the man. “Just walk.” Jaymz commanded in a softer tone. Jaymz eyes began to adjust and he could see the form of the man slumped, shoulder round and head hung over so far it look lost between his boney shoulder blades.

Finally they stepped out of the tunnel. Again the sky opened and brightness returned. And again it blinded Jaymz. He blinked trying to adjust to the sudden blast of light. It was a large open area with little foliage. More of the creatures with black tongues and orange eyes spread thin through the dirt and grass. But a different one approached them. Jaymz didn’t listen or even try too. He stood still and let his eyes move. It was a huge circle of sorts with extensive fences. But from where they stood Jaymz could see very little.

Suddenly his chains pulled. They were being lined up, one single line. The new one with bones in his face walked up and down the line looking intently at each. His eyes drilled into Jaymz. Jaymz did not look away. He stood still and just took the glare. He man lifted his one hand and smacked Jaymz hard on one ear causing Jaymz’s head to snap. His ears rang. He slowly lifted his head back up only to be hit again. He took a few seconds and then deliberately lifted his chin. The side of his head was battered once more. Jaymz could feel blood run down his neck. This time he kept his head lowered. Instead of raising his face his tighten his jaw, and his neck muscles. He tighten and released. But he kept his head down and his eyes lowered.