The Slavers Encampment – Group A
The world seemed to fade away around Sana as she sat there on her knees rocking back and forth as she held her father’s hand; her eyes closed tight as she fought back the tears. This had not been the best day. She had almost lost Hugh earlier in the day and now she comes to find out that she arrived too late to save her father. What if she hadn’t taken the time to snap back at Tobias, would she have made it in time? She would never know now. Two sets of tears in a single day, it was not something Sana was emotionally used to. Since she had left home more than a decade ago she had only shed a single tear before today and now the tears seemed to be trying to make up for years of being held back.
Sana leaned back on her knees, still holding his hand as she looked up at the sky breaking through the tree tops. Her and her father had not parted on the best of terms. She had been raised a gypsy and her parents had been told by the troops divinator what her life was supposed to be, a courtesan. When Sana had aged enough she found out exactly what that meant and it had infuriated her. It drove her to learn to protect herself and to leave her family long before they could push her into it; before she could be touched. Why her parents had seen nothing wrong with it was always beyond her grasp other than they had just been raised that way and it was how it had been done for hundreds of years. You were given your lot in life and you dealt with it. It was supposed to be an honor and she was supposed to take over as the matriarch of the troop because of her position but she refused and left.
Only her sister Ramara understood, and though she pleaded for Sana not to leave her, she let her go eventually so she could make a break for it, to freedom and that was how Sana had lived. Free for so many years from her past and now it was right before her and she wept over it. It didn’t matter her past anymore, her father was dead, her family gone from what she knew and even with all her skill in battle she couldn’t save them. Had she stayed behind could she have? It was another thing she would never know.
Sana sighed deeply as she reached over and closed her father’s eyes as she sat there. “Rest in peace papa,” she said as she looked at him and pushed his hair out of his face. Taking a deep breath she slowly rose from her place and let her father’s hand falls from hers, wiping the tears away as she stood there. There was nothing she could do for him now but morn and there was not time for that. She had wasted too much already.
“You all did good,” Sana said after she cleared her throat. “Thank you,” she said in an appreciative voice as she began to rummage through the pockets of the various dead slavers that were scattered along the ground; finally finding what she was looking for, the keys to cages. Tilting her head to the side as she stood over the whipmaster her eyes narrowed somewhat. Reaching down she snapped a chain off the mans neck and held up two rings that were hanging from it; looking at them carefully, a set of wedding bands, the intricate carvings in the metal very known to Sana. They were at one time her parents, bands they had worn as long as she could remember while she was growing up. Tying the chain around her neck she tucked it under what was left of her shirt that was scorched and burned from the fire.
Walking over to the main holding cell she fiddled with the keys for a bit as she tried to find the right one. One slipped in to the lock and the tumblers turned as she twisted the key, the lock popping open. Hooking the keys to her side she slid the chain off the bars and opened the cage; it squeaking as she did and it took some effort to get the door fully swung open.
“It’s okay, we are going to take you somewhere safe,” she said softly to those there, they were afraid and it was understandable. They were not sure what was going on; they were starved, hurt, thirsty and standing on the bodies of those that had lost their lives to such hardships. Sana could not blame them for their wide eyes and trembling features. Sighing deeply as she turned to Vaeri and Fiona.
“Can one of you grab some water for them and another start tending to their wounds. Nothing major, just enough to make sure they survive the trip back to the village. We can feed them back at the inn,” she said as she dusted the rust from the bars off her hand and began to help the frightened people out of their confinement; holding her hand out to each one in turn as he helped them down and away from the cage to sit down on the ground for a bit until she figured out what to do next.
Looking at the group that came with her she couldn’t help but be proud of them. They did what needed to be done to help free these people. Death was not something Sana found fun but sometimes there was no other choice. They wouldn’t have released these people and would have continued to traumatize them for whatever reason. What Sana could not figure out was why they would want to capture people to sell into slavery only to hurt them and starve them to such a point they would never fetch a decent price on the slave market. Taking out the cruel factor, it just didn’t make good sense money wise and that was usually why people like this did this; to make money.
Shaking the thought from her head she looked over towards Lob and pointed up to the two cages that were handing from the trees that a person each in them. “Lob, can you get them down safely?” she asked as she watched the creature offering to lick Vaeris wounds. He was different but he got the job done and seemed kind in his own way. Reaching down she unlatched the keys from her belt and walked over to him and handed them over. “Be careful,” she said as she reached out and took one of his hands, placing the keys in them. She hoped he could do it, if not she would have to think of another way to get them down.
Turning she walked over to Drizzak and knelt down next to him, pulling a healing potion out of her pouch and handing it over to him. “Think we need to get you fixed up my old friend,” she said as she held the vial in her hand and held it out to him. “We still have a long way to go before we can get back to the village.”
The Village – Group B
The sun was high now that the day was over half way through and the village was recovering from the brawl that had broken out in the streets. Sister Agnes was trying to wrap her head around everything that had happened as she walked back into the apothecary. To most it may have been because they assumed that it was something she had never seen before but in all honesty it was something she had witnessed. The sister did not speak of her life before she joined the convent and there was good reason for it. Beneath those robes there were scars; scars hidden beneath the folds of the thick fabric of her habit. Over forty years being a member of the convent could only help to heal some of her past but it did not erase it. The scene that had unfolded before her had not made her sick to her stomach because of the brutality of it all but because of the memories it dredged up.
Wylsen was the only one in the village who knew the sisters past but he would not bring it up to her. He did though see the look in her eye as she looked out the window of his shop. It was a look he had seen on her features before, one that would pop up when she would return from other villages to bring children to the orphanage after she had out run the slavers. They had been a problem in the area for some time but they were never able to do anything about it and the faces changed so often. It seemed they never sent the same team into the town twice. Sighing deeply he walked over to the nun and placed his hand on her shoulder to try to give her some comfort. Sister Agnes looked over to him with a grim expression on her face.
“I don’t think this is over,” Agnes said towards Wylsen; Wylsen nodded. They had tried to resist in the past and it only drove them to send in more to meet their quota. They knew another attack would occur and the sister was placing all her hope in the small group that went out to the camp itself. She never expected what was about to happen to occur.
From the south of town it began about an hour after Sanas group have left for the encampment. The southern road was hidden because of a turn in the road and the trees that lined each side of the dirt path but one that was outside would be able to hear the vicious snarls coming from beasts that were anything but your typical dog and the smell of sulfur was being carried on the air to the village. It would give those outside burning the bodies a bit of a warning but not much. When the source of the smell and noise broke around the bend and came into view it was evident that something horrific was about to happen. This was not a small group coming towards the village and it would seem as if the one that Sana had killed had lied. He hadn’t; he said how many were in the camp and the group to the north. He failed to mention the secondary team from the south who had been called together by the main Slaver and the rest of those that had escaped.
Leading the group was the main Slaver Gal riding a large black horse, behind him were two more on horses; the ones that Vaeri and Hanzo had let get away. They had been healed somehow and were much better equipped this time than the last. If it had only been there perhaps there would have been nothing to worry about but it was the crowd that was behind them that made this a much larger issue. There were a total of twenty-five creatures/persons including the three from the last fight. The group was mixed though much more than the last and much stronger. They were obviously the main force and hadn’t been sent earlier since the village had been deemed an easy place to strike. They were all well armored and there were many creatures among them that seemed to be trained to follow their masters will.
The town had been quiet since the first battle and most of the people in the small village had opted to stay indoors, not sure what to do or think at this point. The stillness was broken as Hanzo yelled. The sudden break in the silence caused the nuns blood to run cold. Then something else hit her sense. Sister Agnes knew the smell of the sulfur and as it wafted into the apothecary she gulped. “God help us all….” she said as she pushed the door open and her eyes fell on the sight before her as they came closer to the town. The sisters hand clung to the door frame as she watched, she couldn’t fight but those that were there would need healing and she was not going to run from those that would need assistance. Looking around at those that were coming to the village she could not find the source of the sulfur smell, it wasn't there but it hung on the soon to be assailants like a bad omen.
Those in the village that had been out and about quickly ran to what they hoped was safety, doors slamming quickly behind them and shuttered being pulled close. Sister Agnes slowly walked away from the door she had clung to and stood on the edge of the wooden patio that was in front of the apothecary. There were so many coming towards the village and half of those that had come to help were gone; those that remained seemed to be the most injured. Could they hold them off? She didn’t know, all she could do was wait until someone needed healing and pray; which she did as her hands clasped in front of her.
