The ship’s motion rocked, swaying her body and making her ill. It wasn’t the first time she been on a one, just this long, while her stomach heaved at the scents of strong urine, sweat, heavy salt and shit. It permeated in the stale air helping her to toss what little was in her upon the wooden boards, staining them with fresh chunky liquid which faded into a lingering taste of carrots. Onix thought it was strange. Her only meal these last few days had been a few molding dry biscuits with aged water but she never thought on it long. Little light, signs of passing time, slipped though boards overhead mingling with the sparse that lurked below echoed by creaks of screaming wood, captive moans and seasickness were the Delilah’s lullaby for most the journey often accompanied by beatings in this hell.
Her green eyes flickered over the other captives, those with ragged and weakened spirit showed as some braced from the violent behavior. Each upraised hand against her or another prisoner made her jerk against the steel rings of the chain attaching overhead. Wrists rubbed raw with dried blood and splintered wood digging into the flesh only enflamed her hatred. Clank went the leash while forcing her to bear witness, unable to fight back properly as her blood demanded. At one point, mid trip, her body stopped its struggles to store energy instead of fruitlessly wasted it against an unwinnable battle. It seemed she accepted her fate...until her eyes were seen. Her body was bruised and hurting as it was, inwardly retracing the injuries as well as lack of protection in her current garb. It was only hours after the celebration when they came and the only thing dangerous the Delilah brought was a sword meant for sparing. A fighting spirit to help them though the war of the afterlife, a silent promise they all strove to meet on the other side someday one or another.
She made sure they would remember her- at least those that face her.
Yellowing bruises faded in and overlapped by more recent purple along the lower half of her torso, twisting to take the blow and suffer loss of breath then fracture bones. Along the side of her body, a red stain of dried blood was flaking off a blackened and charred dagger wound that if not for the dark skin of the Varooglas would match some of her wardens’ own wounds. It was hardened into a crisp scab which been nearly opened twice from a punch or wrong move. Her body currently was slouching forward, hands held beside her head by a wooden plank cuffed about. There were distinct rune writings but none Onix recognized. The Delilah managed to twist her head away from any strike aimed at her face allowing the offender a taste of how hard her restraints really were. She learned after the first time -her right eye took a hit in the beginning- as the score was now merely faded yellow mark now and the spilt lip. The thing that disturbed Onix the most was that her light rosy complexion took a paler shade, slightly sickly, and her lean muscle suffered some noticeable loss. The price for being nearly starved to death.
Two curved back claws of a predator were tied about her neck, thin brown leather strings, entwined rope to hold like a choker close to the skin. A center piece resting against her neck base was a turquoise stone crudely cut and held by a thinner string then the rest. From the middle of her lower back was a small solid bone ring holding wide stripes of woven material that trailed up and crisscrossed over her chest to rest in another white ring about the back of her neck. It very lovingly made piece was now filthy and frayed in places cause of the rough treatment, yet it held as her spirit did: strong and untamed. A thin frail looking material nested about her hip’s lining into a shallow v shape with the fabric top edged in the once white fur of some animal, now dark and dingy in color while the brown cloth fell just a few inches above the knees. Slits on the sides with crisscross pattern of ties curved about the swell of her thighs keeping the fabric from flowing too far from her in each step she would take. Finally, the thick soled sandals rested flat footed on the floor with cords racing up to a bit past the ankle and large band of cured wrinkled hide on the upper part of the open toe feet. Not to mention the chain that chaffed the skin about them, saying and clinking in the motions of the transport.
Loud barking orders, at least it seemed, rang out below decks.
It was enough to stir the pacing black skinned men into motion. Their hands roughly pulled, struck and kicked out at others to stand in their bounds creating a series of rattles. Each stood into a line walking with weak legs to the stairs leading to deck likely. Onix’s body was tensed to expect something worse; the corners of her eyes rotated left then right expecting a blunt fist ready to lash out and attempt to tear her short red hair from the scalp. The raising part was the hardest. With no hands or arms to push her up, a large plank messing with her balance as well as the added chains made standing a challenge. Leaning forward Onix pushed onto the balls of her feet and curling her body slightly in her rise to stand.
Every muscle wailed, sending wails of ach into her mind as she was the last lead out. Teeth bared through upturned lips like some feral animal, caged and tormented, unable release her pain tin screams. Hand opened held out in front of her, the Delilah stood on similar weaken knees as a black hand shoved her shoulder forward. It brought her shackled limb to swing to the stair before she glared behind her to see the action repeat, her heel dug in to stall the move forward. Her breath was deeper in her stubbornness, resisting with dying energy, with muted growls flowing from her throat. Without sparing a moment Onix let the next shove come as she edged her body slightly to the left. It impacted, her body letting the force pulled her right forward as her left elbow- now straightened- swung back aimed at the assault’s face in hope to hit.
Sadly her condition wasn’t as strong as it seemed. The attacking swing made her left foot go back only to be stopped by the chain creating a loud ting, shifting her balance abruptly and forcing her to salvage it at the last moment. The Delilah’s body leaned too far to one side, her one knee smacked painfully to brace herself, managing not to fall flat on her stomach or face. Her right hand fisted and lower than the left grinding the wood deeper into the neck as the Delilah licked her chapped lips. It was not good. Onix’s mind sent signals to her body, calling the blood within to raise her up from the kneeled position. The helpless posture her spirit had caused only to discover she couldn’t stand. Her mind, blood and nerves’ messages were loss in a sea of fatigue and pain. It seemed most of her strength was unintentionally in that lastest strike, not sure if it landed true or devastatingly missed the Varoogla behind. She thought she felt the soft crack of bone against her elbow, the warmth of spurting blood, and the yelp of pain but it could be her mind playing tricks. Slight dehydration and lack of good food weakened more than just the body.