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Areka’s captor grinned as the girl’s mane of silver spilled from the hood, tumbling loosely about her obsidian visage and highlighting the darkness of her complexion. And despite the common fear that the Vysstichi race elicited in others, Areka’s youth diminished that effect considerably. The man, thrice the size of the young girl and rugged in appearance, chortled obnoxiously as one of his hands fumbled underneath her cloak, maliciously fishing for that contraption that would relinquish the mantle from the dark elf’s slender frame –or at least that’s what the violent human believed to be underneath.
The man’s attempts ceased, though, when Areka’s right hand connected solidly with his cheek.
“Dammit!” the man cried, letting go of the dark elf and clutching at his mouth which revealed two rows of teeth streaked with red.
Unfortunately, despite Areka’s momentary reprieve, it was not long until one of her original captor’s friends swept her up in a bundle of arms. “Aw calm down, Durke. That wasn’t nothin’.” Grinning mischievously, the other human fumbled with Areka until both of her wrists were handcuffed by his much larger hands. His breath was redolent of alcohol, and his cheeks were flushed with crimson. “This one’s got fire in her. Maybe we should sell her?” He proposed, glancing to the two others who joined him. One was a heavily muscled human whose chiseled abdomen and broad chest were discernible beneath his tight-fitting tunic. His head was shaven and a silver loop was connected to his left ear. The other human was much feebler in appearance, and instead of pure brawn as his weapon, he wore a pair of short swords casually at his sides.
Still grasping his bleeding mouth, the one called Durke glowered as he ominously approached the captivated dark elf. One of his hands lowered for a second, reaching for a wickedly curved long knife fixed at his belt. Drawing the dagger in one seamless motion, he steadied it at Areka’s neck level. “Shuttup!” He roared to his drunken companion, an order that immediately silenced the man. “This one is going nowhere! She’s mine…” Bloodshot eyes focused dangerously upon Areka’s, and his dagger wound back slowly, ominously, and with every intent to inspire the utmost fear in his younger victim.
Meanwhile, a small crowd had gathered by now, many of them watching with horror as the four men exercised their authority over the smaller, seemingly helpless girl. One bystander even protested for the grown men to stop, but a single glance from the bald human muted him.
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