"The increase in gunpowder weapons and armaments pose a great threat among the life of this great land and world. Progressed by the increased ignorance these weapons pose a terrible issue that may very well dissolve civilization into a pit of fire and sulfur.
It is our responsibility as the keepers of civilization, and our responsibility as conscious beings to object the use of total war and end the potential of mutually assured destruction of what we hold dear and even life. The power of fiery explosions and guns threaten the once noble way of battle and war, and build upon it's many vices and flaws to the point of no return, to the point that we have gone to far, and to the point that may see humanity blown off the face of Avara.
I as a knowing and conscious viewer of the acts of gunpowder and explosives say no, and move for the disarmament of all deadly gunpowder weapons for the greater of civilization and preservation of culture and life. Ignorance will not suffice when signing our names to the future, but only knowing and willing action to take a stand against this looming and growing technological threat.
I implore you my fellows, for this can only get worse with time if this disease is not cured."
Politician Alix Belerose closed his mouth and took a seat on a thick purple velvet chair. A multitude of bewildered stares blinked at him through an intoxicating and sugary smoke that clouded the brightly lit room of glittering gold and burning incense.
King Dion Monte stared with his mouth open wide in concern. The youthful and pompously dressed royal’s breath spilled upon a naked prostitute by his face, that stood leaning over his well crafted chair, her own vulpine grin frozen in shock.
The walls were lined with the similarly exposed flesh of nude women, adorned in simple chains and laces of silver and gold, exposed to the whims of the highly dressed desires of the Conference members that sat in the circular room. Statues of living men and women painted the color of marble stood still behind the desirable women, smoking sticks of incense sticking from their mouths as the ashes floated gently to the floor.
Grapes glistened with sweat from the room’s atmosphere and sat in cold gilded bowls on reddish wooden tables. Jewels encrusted the edges of the tables shapely, and bosomy hand picked women work swiftly around the crucible of fruits and important magistrates, eager to feed and bend to the will of their overwhelming authority.
“Ostrichberg itself poses a great threat-” Alix continued until a powerfully commanding voice, laced with a seductive masculinity cut him off.
“And you call this association to reverse these technological advances “CAP” or Cooperative Armament Pacification? If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn you were planning on destroying plump trade lines with your conviction mumbo jumbo, I think I speak for the Conference of Vitium when I say: Get out,”
A man wearing a thick and plump fur cloak hammered his rebuttal with a stamp of a classy cane into the marble floor. The vibration caused the light and long feather that struck from his large brimmed hat to wave as if dismissing Alix.
“Magistrate Jones the Bones,” Alix pleaded.
“Pimp Daddy Jones the Bones is correct,” Dion Monte raised a ringed hand. The youthful king nearly laughed as he spoke, “if it is your intention to create a faction to reduce and disarm gunpowder and modern weapons, you will find no official support in this conference.”
“Then I shall do without the conference!” Alix bellowed.
Fine, just know Vitium does not back your views in any form,” Jones waved a disinterested hand.
“Now wait a minute, Alix may have a poin-”
Magistrate Seclude Leeroy Duvall was cut off by Jones as the pimp slammed his cane into the marble again, “NO-ONE OF THIS CONFERENCE WILL BACK THIS.” He reiterated angrily.
Dione nodded, “I pass the kings vote in favor of dismissing CAP.”
”Here. here” The conference agreed, all but Alix and an abstaining vote from Leeroy.
-----
Franklin played with the old pistol in his hands as he marched through the light sheet of dust that covered the rocky slopes of the pass, so often avoided by travelers. The loose leaden bullet rattled softly inside the barrel, barely audible over the screeching wind of the mountains and the warm humming of his daughter.
Before him his wife, daughter and brother marched, their boots crunching on the loose rocks that lead down the path, tall trees on either side of the ill used road.
His eyes trailed from his gun to his daughter. She had grown during the journey; a budding woman. A smile of pride overtook his fatherly face as he watched her stroll over the rocks, passing time idly with his beloved wife, their hair the same golden hue he had grown to adore.
His mind wandered to the ghostly memory of the journey they had so far traversed. It had been long since they had seen the gentle warm fire that roosted in their humble home by some outskirted village on the other side of Vitium, and it was about time the merchant family made their way home.
Of course boat might have been easier, but Franklin didn’t have the money or the confidence to brave the slavers coast, not with all the Vitium slavers waiting with the bared bloody teeth of a wolf, eager to clench onto the first golden fleeced lamb they saw; no, he wouldn’t risk his family.
The cool air that slipped from the peaks of the mountains spilled through the rustling leaves. The platter of rain from the previous night pocked the harmony of the forest path with small tattters, and the thick humid smell of the passed storm tingled the nostrils of the man, fighting the hollow smell of the mountains.
A gentle smile played on the man’s lips, content with the day’s travel and the feeling of home quickening his heart.
“Daddy!”
His daughter shrieked as a gunshot rang through the forest, causing the family to freeze in spot. She ran to him, throwing herself into his chest, nearly knocking his pistol from his grasp as dark figures surrounded the family, with cheshire grins.
“Now now,” a raspy voice spoke from one of the Vitium Slavers, “no need to scream, we are simple toll collectors. This is a Vitium road.”
“Bullshit!” Franklin’s brother spat, tugging a long sabre from his belt. A thick cudgel swung itself through the air, connecting with his brothers head with a loud crack. The man’s body went limp as it crumpled to the ground.
“Geez, Pierre, easy on the merchandise!” A voice growled at a burly man holding the club. The large man shrugged innocently as it turned to tend to the body.
The hammer of Franklin’s gun clicked back. It’s tiny clack sounded like a thunderous boom in the quiet stand off.
“Wait, hold on now!” One of the slavers resisted, “if you fire upon us, I’m afraid your entire entourage might not make it to the market. You don’t want a dirt nap, now do you? Think of the kids.”
Franklin looked down at his shivering daughter, thinking of her. He knew- he knew what life she was in for at the end of this forced transaction. He knew the fate of the women slaves of Vitium, there was no trickery here- he knew.
He sighed a defeated sigh.
“Tell you what,” the slaver continued, “you give us the girls, and you can walk- what do you say, friend?”
Franklin looked down at his daughter, a sickening knot forming in the pit of his stomach. Tears blurred his eyes as guild swam in his thinning viens.
“I’m sorry…” He whispered into her ear, causing big watery green eyes to look up at him in terror.
“Wha-”
There was a loud gunshot. The slavers nearly jumped back in surprise as the sound of flesh splattering onto the rocks accompanied the thunderous baritone. Franklin’s daughter slumped to the ground. His wife’s screaming shook his vision and bled his brain as he looked down at his daughter, her golden hair stained red and pink.
“Shit!” A slaver swore, “grab what’s left of the bitch and mark her for Yeodrathan, cuff the rest- and rough the dumb one up a little.”
------
Pimp Daddy Jones the Bones sighed an exhausted sigh as he popped off a mask made of bones and threw it onto an idle chair. The room he was in was rectangle and glittering with precious metals that lined the walls so thickly, it strained the eyes and even hurt a little if stared at. Red carpets lined the floor and the pimp stood in front of four raised pedestals big enough for a human to perch their feet on.
A slim man with fake hair bounced around the four naked specimens that stood still and smiling on the pedestals. His little lips were speeding with details and salesman tact that roughed inside of Jones’ ear like sandpaper on metal.
He raised a palm, as if to silence the small man. The back of his hand then snapped and cracked him across the face, finishing the gesture with a frown.
“I’ll only take three,” He grunted as he pointed at what once was a mine worker, and now a greased up man in his thirties, a slim petite woman in her twenties, and another older woman whose hair held a tiny grey at the tips of raven hair.
“But why not all?” the man whimpered.
Jones groaned in annoyance and stomped over to the fourth, a rather plump woman, and slapped his hand hard against her rear, nearly sending her toppling over, “She’s fat!”
“Some people prefer it that way,” The man defended. Jones growled, “I’ve already told you! My stock in that department is full, there is no more room!”
“So what do you expect me to do with her?”
“I’ll buy her for one fourth the price, only because I am nice.”
Jones smiled a dazzling smile up at the large woman, “perhaps send her over to Yearning, land of the free- I hear they even have a courtyard named such. Would you like that, dear? To be free?”
The woman’s eyes glistened with hope at the man’s honeyed words. Jones turned back to the skinny man, “there, even your merchandise agrees on the price- one fourth for her, half for the old one with the nice-- yeah, the slim one and the man.”
“But- but,” The vender sputtered.
“I think you mean to say ‘sold’” Jones trotted over to the man and snatched his cheeks and chin in one hand, moving the man’s mouth for him.
“
Yes, I did Mr. Bones.” Jones’ teased in a light voice, mimicking the tiny man.
“Brilliant!” Jones bellowed happily, “glad to help out a fellow-”
Jones the Bones’ voice trailed off into a scowl, “well nice to do business anyway.”
