The air of the port city carries the scent of a fresh sea breeze. The sun bears down from the west across the dunes of a distant Sandscape, reaching far out into the kingdom of Achuak Iejir. The great port city of Allora bustles with merchants, slavers, commoners of every trade, and more personages of interest. Citizens appear as varying lizardfolk and dragonkin with a minority of other known races including elves, dwarves, humans, gnomes, orcs and more. It is easy to see where wealth and prosperity fall upon the citizenry with the reptilian populace better dressed, equipped, and in finer health. An occasional non-reptilian individua with wealth is found, though with a ratio of 25:2.

The kingdom of Achuak Iejir is well known for its superlative economy and for its leading dictator; the ancient green dragon Rivosphent. Port cities line the Western coastline along the kingdom's border with the great sea. Ships sail in and out bearing vast quantities of goods and supplies and some bearing great wealth on their return from the Western continent known as The United Empire. Long has the kingdom of Achuak Iejir sought to dominate the global market, and every ship brings Achuak Iejir one step closer to that vast goal.

A ship freshly docked is unloaded by a mixture of races both from across the sea and citizens of the great city. An Elven looking man, Taliman, of moderate wealth by his guise and wardrobe departs from the ship heading well into the city through the core road along the merchant's path. Stalls are riddled with goods from fine cloth to exotic food. Some merchants appear to offer armor while others offer weapons.

This man flows through the streets as if unmoved by the bantering calls of tradesmen and merchants. The slightly pointed arch of his ears twitches at the calls of an auctioneer near a slave market. Taliman approaches, with obvious disgust born in his eyes and expression. It is unknown if he is disgusted by the slaves or the slavers, by the culture or the intolerance, or by some other unknown presence. He looks upon the gathering of chained individuals, each with a sign around their neck bearing prices in draconic numerical markings.

"Come and see what we have today! Fresh servants for your grand estates! Soldiers for your militias! Heh! Target practice for your own pleasure!" The auctioneer cries out such a crude description of the enslaved as two great serpent-like guards well armed and armored grab one individual after another and tosses them upon the presentation platform. Those who resist are harshly whipped. Those who try to flee...are slain without warning.

As Orin waited his turn to be put on display, he pondered how wrong this had all gone. Leaving his community to learn seamed like a harmless thing to do. But it has cost him, well him and his community their freedom. This was not the plan at all.

Rough hands were grabbing people and throwing them up on stage where they were made to stand on display. Some clothed and some, like he, in all their natural spender for the eye to see. The half-elf girl was thrown up next. The auctioneer grabbed the girl's bruised chin, touched her in a rather in appropriate way. "This one is a breeder. Fine features," he said as he turned her around. Then he grabbed her in a very personal way and continued, "Soft! Good as a servant or an entertainment, I'd say. A toy for the man of the house or a maid for the lady."
People started bidding.
Orin thought, Breeder? How rude. She's better than that. After a couple stronger bigun's were sold to be guards, a human cleric to be an estate healer, a couple criminals to be tournament fighters. While girls of different races sold as maids, serving girls, or dancers. He watched. Mages tended to buy guards. Clerics tended to buy people who had gifts that would help their temples. Merchants bought people with craft skills or could be trainable.
A man of my skills should fetch a fare price, he thought.
As Orin watched he realized that the ones that the auctioneer thought would get a good price were sold first, mages, fighters, people with skills, then the unskilled but trainable, the thieves, then him. He figured this out when they threw up a couple of old men that were sickly with the coughs and could barely stand, people started to turn away. Finally, his turn came. His chains lifted from the pole that kept him in place. The hand that grabbed him lifted him by the loin cloth and threw him. Orin landed with a thud. The crowd laughed as he tried to keep the remaining fabric in place with his hands chained. He bowed.
"What can I get for this one?" the auctioneer shouted with almost a laugh to the crowd.
"I don't need a clown, so what can he do?" a large lizard folk man shouted.
"He's a breeder, then I'll eat him," said a woman that he wasn't sure what she was or if she was a she.
"Thank you, but I'd prefer not to be dinner," Orin said weakly.
"You'd only be a snack," said a woman and the crowd roared with laughter.
"He's trouble," shouted the captain of the ship he was brought to the marker. "It follows him around. Tried to get the slaves to riot and damn near got them to do it too."
"It wasn't a riot and I'm plenty lucky," Orin said defiantly.
There were murmurs from the crowd.
Another crewman shouted,"And he can eat more than two men."
"They were small portions," Orin said in a louder and exasperated tone.
A staff hit him in the ribs telling him to be quiet.
The offering price started at 80 gold. When the price got down to fifty gold with no takers.
Orin asked, "What happens if I do not sell?"
The woman called back, "I'll eat you."
The crowd erupted with laughter.
"How about 30 gold?" the auctioneer cries out.

Vergu stood in chains isolated away from the podium at a slave auction after not a month ago living in the Strint estate. He weighed in his head if this was worse than being back at home with his father. He shuddered for a moment and assured himself that anything is better than being back with that snake of a man, even death.

The din of the auctioneers and the bidders was flaring his temper but he had to keep himself together for he had already witnessed what had happened to those who resisted or even fled. Memories flood back of a young human man who managed to slip loose from his cuffs right next to him. The words Vergu had heard from him were "Syanna, I'm coming!" His body is still on the floor where he was cut down, eyes still open and frozen in fear. Blood still oozed from the wounds on his body. Nobody bothered to move his body so they could use it as a warning to other potential escapees.

Snapping him from his memories, he hears a familiar voice in the crowd. "I will offer no more than 63 gold for her." Before the end of the sentence, he knew. He knew that voice. Elias Strint, here of all places. He was buying an elven woman, no doubt as a concubine.That cur is lucky I am in chains and surrounded by guards. As soon as the thought passed his mind, he locked eyes with him. Both shared not a word for an arduous and long silence. "You should be dead. It was my decree that you were to die."
"Then you should have done it yourself if you wished for no failure, Elias. Your soldiers did me a service, freeing me from you. Anything is better than you."
"You are to call me father or my lord and nothing else!" He breathed for a moment barely containing his rage.
"I will follow your advice then. I will buy you, and then kill you myself, freak." He spit in Vergu's face as he finished the sentence and walked away.

The words worried Vergu, he had finally escaped Elias and was now going to be incarcerated again by him. He had only to hope that someone would bid higher than a duke. Slim a chance it may be, he still had a chance.

Vergu saw that halfling be thrown up on the podium, he had attempted to free people a few times, he obviously failed. Vergu's blood ran cold when he saw that nobody was offering up prices for him. He does not deserve death! Animals!, Vergu thought to himself.

The nearly elven man stands amongst the crowd of greedy, flesh-seeking citizens each of whom bears desires to fulfill. Such ego to associate value to the life of an individual. Such vile monstrous perceptions of life itself to consider the trade, barter, and sale of flesh as mere normality. However, this man dares not question the customs and nature of society so well developed in its policies or laws. He turns, readying himself to depart. He had already placed his valuables in a secure hold at the city bank where he was assured no expense in security. Indeed, he had enchanted the trunk himself for added caution. As such, his business would not rest within the bowls of depravity such as this one.

He turns, beginning to disembark for the scene of corrupt disgust, yet the sound of the crows catch his pointed ears. The mocking calls toward the platform follow the words of a rebellions creature now poised for sale near the end of the morning batch. He pauses and turns around once more, now facing the platform again from his distance presence nearly thirty yards out. The shouts of the woman express hunger, yet the little creature offers a rebellious attitude despite his station and position. The man raises his left gloved hand up, pressing his index finger gently to the base of his chin in contemplation. With the last comments shouted, he spreads a smirk upon his lips with a subtle laugh. Hardly noticeable as to the reason given the crowd laughing as well, but his amusement is unfounded in the debauchery of the crowd, but rather with this short creature spouting defiance.

"I bid twenty gold, and not a copper more!" The nearly elven man shouts out boldly and loudly. A lurch resounds within his stomach for partaking in such unnatural exposé such as this. "Lest you wish to be saddled with offering the lad as a free meal!" Meat markets such as this were certainly not to his liking, but this is not the first time he has ever been exposed to such dealings, and often something is valued over nothing at all.

Orin looked for the man who placed a bid on him. He intently studied the man. Who was he and what was he going to have him do. His entire life hung in the balance. Orin had been working on a plan to free himself, but spear, swords, and bows were to close. He figured he could get his hands free, getting his feet free would be more of a challenge. In clearer thinking, Orin determined that his plan would have probably lead to death, his at least. Not dying was highly important to him.

With kindled hope Orin stood a little taller. That was the only bid made. As the money exchanged hands, Orin sat down. He placed a finger on the spear tip pointed at him and pushed it away. A small bag was tossed to Orin. It contained his well worn cloak, a now ragged pair of pants, a broken pipe, and nothing else. Then as the paperwork was done, Orin proceeded to slip his small hands then feet out of the shackles.
"They were made for a larger person," Orin commented to the guard as he dropped the shackles on the table.

Orin turned and followed his new master. "Thank you, kind master." he said.

"I bid twenty gold, and not a copper more!" said the elf. And with those words, Vergu exhaled and thanked the gods for sparing the halfling's life. He was a good enough person, strong morals, a bit unwise, but over all goodhearted.
"Twenty going once!" A pause followed.
"Twice!" Shuffling from a woman in the crowd worried him, her eyes filled with hunger.
"Thrice!" The silence was deafening until finally,
"Sold! I pray you know what you have signed yourself on to, sir." And with that, the halfling was brought off the stage to his new master. While Vergu did not have the best viewing angle to see them both, the elf was clearly speaking to the halfling and the halfling had a look of both worry and confusion.

While the momentary relief that the halfing was not going to be immediately killed washed over him, Vergu was quickly brought back to reality when a guard untied him from a post and started to drag him by his long, unwashed hair to the podium. "You are next, mutant," the guard said all too pleased with himself after adding another successful insult to Vergu's stockpile. As he was dragged and shoved onto the podium, the auctioneer began describing Vergu to the crowd.

"And here we have our last product for the morning! A recent addition to our stock, and a rarity at that! A half-orc with gray skin, a first for this auctioneer that is for sure!" The crowd had their oohs and ahhs about Vergu in that moment. "Also it appears that this half-orc has had some...mutations on his left arm, possibly magical in origin. Sorcery is at work here ladies and gentlemen!" He says in the same tone that a circus ringleader speaks to a group of children. We shall start the bidding at...70 gold!" The clamor of bids came shortly after, with Elias with predatory focus bidding repeatedly in order to intimidate other buyers, soon the variety of bidders began to thin. It was until the bid reached 150 gold that there were only two bidders, Elias and a lizardfolk of apparent noble blood.

"150 gold! Bid is on Elias Strint! Going once!"

The nearly elven man offers the slightest smirk as he watches the little creature mock the guards for their oversight regarding the shackles. Sizing things for a halfing is always difficult considering the creatures varying dimensions. While the mockery is amusing to him, the guards do not find it equally entertaining. They spit curses in their lisp-filled serpentine language as they kick and poke him toward his new owner, fairly purchased. As such, the law forbids harm against the property of another unless that property has committed a crime. Even under such circumstances, baring murder or other serious equivalents, the property is secured and the issue brought to the owner coupled with a fine.

"You'd best find yourself in a state of silence, for the time being, my little friend." The man states at first, raising his right gloved hand to press his index finger across his lips to gesture quiet. He then leans down and in toward Orin with a minor smile. "...and don't call me Master. Sir or Sire will do, at least in the presence of such as these. In private you may call me Taliman." He gently raises his hand and scruffs Orin's hair a bit in a kind gesture. With that, he looks up as the next bidding begins.

"One moment my friend. Let's see if I can do a little more charity work." He stands up fully, looking now to the new prospect upon the stage. He observes with his arms cross, knowing well not to get involved in the bidding until nearly the end of the auction. He waits quietly, observing the bidding until it comes down to the final two bidders. The wealthy lizardfolk of some significant heritage.

"Two hundred!" He hears the lizardfolk cry brazenly in response to this man whose name escapes Taliman. "Final offer!" The creature spurts with a hissing agitation. Clearly, he is not pleased paying so high for a servant. One wonders what fate would befall the half-orc if sold to such a character.

"Two hundred and one gold!" To Talimans' surprise, the man known as Elias calls one last bid into the mix seeking to win with a slight overage if the lizardfolk truly withdraws. Indeed, the reptile shakes his head and turns away with most of the crowd just started to depart. The final purchase of the day at hand with a secure outcome.

"I hear two hundred and one going once!...Twice!...aanndd sol..." The auctioneer nearly wraps up the bidding with his hammer about to strike the podium before a sudden interruption catches him quite off guard and nearly stunned.

"Two hundred and fifty gold!" Suddenly the voice of Taliman rises and the crowd comes to a halt with some gasps and others speaking to one another in a roar of whispers. Even the most skilled and valuable slaves rarely went for such a price. In fact, nearly eighty-percent of the market runs below one hundred gold each. Prices vary, but mostly when bought in bulk. It has been known for prized slaves to be sold at low costs simply for being part of a single group sold as a package.

The concept of a slave being sold for so high a price bears confusion and suspicion with the auctioneer and the guards, all of whom grasp their long spears more securely as if ready for any possible scenario. Anti-slavers have been known to the city to do such things as this simply to delay the completion of an auction to give time for an attempt at freeing slaves. All eyes now rest solely upon Taliman.

Elias was redder than some of the lizardfolk in the auction. It so pleased Vergu to see him in such a state of powerlessness. Elias stammered and practically assaulted his bodyguards for their gold but it was far too late. The auctioneer clearly wanted to leave before things escalate any further and sped through his words to end the auction quickly.
"ONCETWICEAND, sold to the elven gentleman for 250 gold!"

Vergu was brought off the stage and broke sight with most of the crowd but he could hear the oh so sweet sounds of Elias' rage from behind the plank walls of the receiving area for slaves. Though he couldn't quite understand his words, he knew from the slightly higher pitch that he was frothing.

Upon seeing his buyer he took the moment to size him up, many questions ran through his head among the lines of Why would he spend so much money on me? What does he want me for? What will I have to do for him? Why buy the halfling? Money changed hands and Vergu was unchained, his belongings given to him, he carried naught but his own personal iron signet ring that Elias hadn't bothered to take away, and his set of, albeit dirty, dark purple robes. Vergu simply asked his new master,"What would you have of me? It is certainly better than the fate that would have befallen me otherwise."

Orin did what all halfings would do hearing the rage of Elias, he moved to the other side of Sir and the half-orc. He gently placed a hand on each of their legs, so they knew he was there. Orin did not care for angry lizard-folk. They tended to hit things till the problem went away, not very civil. Some things really were best worked out of a big meal, a hot cup of tea, and a good nights sleep.

Orin made a little smile at the few guards that were still watching him like a hawk.

"Sirs, might I recommend that we move our introductions elsewhere, like a lunchen table." He gently drew their attention to one of Elias' men still watching Vergu intently. "I don't think we are safe here," Orin said. By which he meant, He didn't feel safe here.

The nearly elven man offers a smile to both. Some of the crowd continue to linger in quiet conversation muttering and whispering amongst themselves as they pass a glance in the direction of the halfling, the half-orc, and their seemingly wealthy new owner. He offers no reply nor glance in return to such individuals. The auctioneer grunts a bit after receiving the coin from the wealthy individual.

"I have little use for slaves. You are both free to go." He offers his response to them both; even to the little one now at their legs and attempting to hide from the intimidating guards not far off. In their own tongue, they snarl a bit and grumble to the auctioneer who is still quite close to their position. After a moment, he and two of the lizardfolk guards start walking toward the three persons in a most agitated state.

"Excuse me!" The auctioneer shouts toward the nearly elven man with a growl. A human in high standing, a minority for the region to be certain, but he bears himself in a manner similar to such reptilian citizens as his company.

"Yes?" Taliman offers a simply reply to the interruption from the approaching man and guard.

"My associate hear just informed me that you intend to set these two free?" He barks, most agitated, and seemingly further still on saying such words. "The law forbids this. Once a citizen has been integrated into the slave market, forever are they bound to such a fate within Achuak Iejir. The only exception to this rule is a state-endorsed slave who serves to pay a law-empowered debt through service." He states firmly with great disgust apparent in his expression.

"Indeed. Well, if you must know, these two have certainly caused civil disturbance and I wish to file charges with intent to serve the full value of the law-abiding sentence." He states with a small smirk, thinking himself clever. His upbringing with a bureaucratic heritage had certainly taught him how to find ways around certain laws. The auctioneer appears to become quite red in the face on such a prospect. The lizardfolk guards spit curses in their draconic tongue.

"Civil disturbance must be reported by no less than three persons, and an investigation completed to fully ascertain the degree of said disturbance so a proper sentence may be applied should a court find the persons guilty. You are merely one person reporting an incident, and good luck finding others to support your claim. We are not fools here, elfling. Do not seek to predict and slither your way around our laws. There are safeguards in place for such nonsense." He snarls once more as he cups his coin pouch tightly in his hand.

"Well, I must say that is quite the predicament. In that case, I believe I wish to donate these two for service to the state in the sum of one silver piece each." He smirks once more, yet again attempting to be clever.

"That is enough! If you do not wish to own these persons, you may sell them or submit them for resale as a charity to the state. In which case, I will certainly appreciate a second opportunity for profit." He looks to the halfling and half-orc with a greedy persuasion upon his expression.

"I see." Taliman sighs a moment, looking to the half-orc and then down to Orin a moment. He had not traveled far across the seas to obtain property in the form of flesh. He merely wished to lend a little aid. It seemed to him such charity bore more long-term repercussions. "In that case, I will keep them." None too pleased with the outcome.

"A pity, but glad to hear you've accepted the nature of our ways." The auctioneer snarks in victory. "I suggest you head to the branding station for papers. There you will be able to have them marked to ensure they remain your property and such is known." He snaps his fingers and turns, making his way off with his guards following close behind him. "Damn anti-slavers." He curses as he departs.

"Right." Taliman sighs once more, then looking to Orin and the half-orc. With a moment and a snap of his fingers, they would both feel a tingle on their arms at the shoulder. Arcane marks appear upon their skin similar to tattoos but with a tinted glow. "There. That will do, for now, I think. I have no desire to see such barbarism as scored brands being applied to either of you."

With a little harder tug on clothing. Orin says, "Sire, I really think we should take our conversation else where.." The halfling looks around, nervous for what had been the third confrontation the fourth would be probably be more direct and a lot more painful.

Vergu huffs as the auctioneer leaves, "A very pleasant sort indeed." He turns to the halfling using him as a meat shield and remarks, "I think you are right. We should leave this...cesspool as soon as we can." Gesturing to the road as he finishes his sentence, he allows the elf to lead the way to their destination, wherever it may be, as long as it is not here in the slave market. As they begin walking, Vergu begins with "If introductions are necessary, my name is Vergu, if you hadn't bought me, I would have died at the hands of the human who would have," he says in matter-of-fact tone. "Once we sit down somewhere quiet I will be able to explain more.”

”Well met, Vergu. I am Orin.” The halfling worked like a tug gently pushing barges down the road and away from the slaver market. Till he noticed an in that actually had potted plants in window boxes. ”Sire, two men are still following us,” Orin said calmly as he gestured to the inn. The thought of a meal and a pint made his stomach growl. Orin whispers, ”I think they are worried you are just going to free us when you got out of sight.”

"The name is Taliman Lothloerian, but you can address me as Taliman. While personally disturbing, I supposed the facade is necessary for certain company so 'Sire' will do to appease the commonwealth." Taliman had started leading them down the road and through the slave markets to depart from the unsavory sorts. He turns northward at a sign leading toward the crafter's sector of the city. Noting the Inn as Vergu was talking, and as the little halfling directed them, he nods in agreement as he gestures for them to follow along.

"You are welcome, Vergu. Let me obtain some food and drink for both of you and we can make our plans in some semblance of privacy." Taliman looks back a moment as a passing gaze to see who it is following after them but does so as he walks inside of the Inn. The establishment is well furnished and bears furnishings made of living plants. The tables and chairs appear as grown bushes carefully cared for into such shapes. The counter is a thick and dense hedge as sturdy looking as any stone or wood structure. Behind the counter stands a barkeep with branches in his hair and a long brown beard full of leaves handing out drinks and food.

Orin made a conscious point of greeting everyone and trying to draw peoples eyes to his party in a kindly way. A few took the steps of moving their bags or coin purses away from him. He smiled, bowing and nodding, giving a little waves. He wanted the room to be friendly towards them if the thugs came in. He followed Vergu to a table and sat with his back to the crowd so his compatriots could view the room. He watched the reflections in the window and the decorated pots.

A serving girl with fresh flowers in he hair. Orin smiled and took a deep breath, much nicer than the slave yards on every account. It was nice not to smell as much sweat or body waste. "So, Vergu," Orin said then paused, "What is your favorite flower?" He was trying to let the girl know that he liked flowers and strike some idle conversation till Taliman returned and the business at hand started. "Roses are nice, but they are full of thorns. Violets smell sweet but you can't handle them roughly or they loose their petals." She moved off and Orin did not see if she blushed or not.

Orin had not really come to understand the difference between wanting-having-and-needing.