Going to the Market [Closed]

[Ab'reth Yelkith]

Third of Ponutis, in the Season of Winter.

Ab’reth had come to this surface city in his sister’s company. They needed to escape Herozzal for a time, and in reflecting upon the options, only Imperia stood out as the right choice. It was said to be home to their kind. It had gangs, slavery, violence, and therefore, a chance to grow, to enjoy themselves.

The twins had considered Vortex, for a few moments, but the vysstichi there were known for their love of the sunkissed. It was stomach turning. Live among them, if one must, but do not welcome them as equals. They reduced themselves.

Imperia had been a city of promise, and Ab’reth had been so very pleased when they’d arrived. That feeling was somewhat fleeting though. He took the chance to talk to a few of the locals soon after they’d crossed into the city. The young prince asked of taverns, inns, entertainment, and finally, the sale of souls. He knew slavery was legal in this empire of theirs. It drove some people, some cities, like it did Herozzal, but he was sorely disappointed to learn that there was no such market in their new home.
There was no way to buy or sell? It was most concerning. Ab’reth enjoyed slaves. He enjoyed being free to torment them in their little lives. He loved breaking them, making them suffer. He’d hoped to find some employment doing such in Imperia, but was disappointed with the news. Ar’ileth, she knew him. She knew her brother better than anyone ever could. She’d lifted his spirits with a kiss and the promise that they’d go looking.

On this fine winter’s brightening, they began that search.

Ab’reth wore the black trousers and top that was his usual, and moved through the city streets at his sister’s side. His long knife also rested on that side.

Ilista had been given a choice on this occasion. Her presence was always welcome. She’d shown herself to be a kindred spirit, a slave of potential. She had impressed them, and while it was a shame she wasn’t vysstichi, few could be so gifted. Ilista had been given the opportunity to travel the city, so long as she was wary. This wasn’t Herozzal, but my no means was it safe.

If she joined the siblings all was well. Another knife could be of use.

Regardless, Ab’reth moved through the streets of Imperia, his sister’s arm in his. They were heading towards the old Westgate Arena, the site of the last slave market. It seemed a reasonable place to begin.

OOC:Please PM for an invite

[Ar'ileth Yelkith]

Ar’ileth had comforted her brother with regards to the absence of slaves. After all, she would have been a terrible sibling for simply ignoring him, heartlessly shunning his needs, in place. Of course, however, there was a great deal more to it than that. Whilst frowned upon, heavily, amidst dark elf society, the twins shared a bond, a love beyond which few of their kindred could relate. The sentiment was not looked upon well, and in spite of the fact that there were methods of dealing with such things, neither twin had committed to it, or would. Haya’s Kiss was meant as an honour, a way in which to die within the embrace of the Plague Queen’s arms…It simply seemed that one Yelkith could not exist without the next.

And so they were here, on the road to solving the problem of slaves. Or lack, it appeared, thereof. It was a concerning matter, as was the subject of religion within this impious, surfacers’ town. Sunkissers worshipped sunkisser gods, and failed to accept Haya as theirs. True, it was the vysstichi who were the Plague Queen’s children, but that did not mean that these dogs should not know of her control. They would learn, however, in time, no matter how many hides they had to flay, how many songs of screaming they endured.

These slaves would learn, and they? They would be the ones to show them the way.

[Dignitas]

Fools. Utter, complete, ignorant fools. That's what they were. Those who thought that simply letting shut the doors of the slave market would extinguish the business of hearts and minds. Could they have be any more naive? Those few that decided this city would be a place of justice and wholeness? By the Gods, this was Imperia! No mere farmer's town on the edge of Telath, no, this was a city thats twisted perversion of all things reached further, deeper, then the surface...perhaps, as some would say, to the very depths of aeternia itself. And there were those who knew this; for in the dark city of the bay there needn't be a market to buy what one wished. No; on the contrary, simply economics (and simple Imperian Economics, at that) would state that anything that could be bought with crowns could be found here, simply waiting for one who was worhty of finding such treasures. To keep it safe, to keep it hidden that only drove such markets and profits.

As well, perhaps the bigger picture was being missed. For as the snow gently kicked forward at the light steps of the two kin on the trash piled street, people all around went on their merry way; ignorant of the evil in the hearts of darkness only a few feet from their sides. Petty sheep that awaited the slaughter not with fear, but the open arms of ignorance. Were these sunkissed not slaves in all but name already? To be so hertic and blasphemous as to worship their false gods and retain hopless optimism in their insignificant lives? Slaves, in the truest sense and to the harshest of masters. Indifference itself.

The once gleaming white washed walls of the Slave market appeared before them, materalizing out of the thick haze of fog and gloom that oft surrounded the city, choking anything but the keenest of eyesight. This had once been a place of unimaginable business, greedy merchants and perverted nobles alike fumbling and giving away crown as fast as a slave could be shakled. Ghosts were here too, if one was liable to believe in such things. It wasn't hard to imagine: The constant buzz and din of excited conversation; prodding and poking at potential property and the laughter of childern at their weaker and helpless adult shackled counterparts. The walls rose tall and whole where inside those, down in the depths of the "business" lay the small cells where starved and abused slaves counted only the breaths the took; eagerly waiting for the last one. Freedom, they called it. However, there is nothing noble in death even for one of such low station as slaves. To the right would be where the giant wood podium stood, on raised platform. Here the auctioneer would gleefuly hagel with the crowd about the price of such luxury items, with the property being shown to the right. Excited families who had been saving for months would happily purchase their first slave, as the tears of the prey were they only movement from their malnatured body.

Today, as the fog parted and revealed the shadow of once an active part of the economy, the picture was starkly different. Holes in the outer wall lay open, scars of the slave rebellion not so long ago. The white washed walls had been coated in both garbage, vandalism, and the wear of a sea port city's weather. The cells below would lie open and dormant; their only occupant being the occasional vagrant or mouse. The auctionar podium lies in dissary, several boards having fallen off and its raised stage a creaking ghost of what had been. The citizens of the city simply walked by, paying no mind to what had been the joy of so few, and the horror of so many.

But as they did perhaps the eyes of the dark twins would pass over them. Here a slave, there-a slave, everywhere a slave?

[Ab'reth Yelkith]

Ab’reth looked over the slave market with a marked curiosity. The location would have been beautiful, once upon a time, and he imagined the souls on display with a certain glee. Seeing them broken and on show before the free ones of Imperia, the thought was entertaining. It gave Ab’reth one more reason to smile. His lips turned up wickedly as he tried to picture the space in its prior glory.

As they walked onto the property Ab’reth eyed the portals that led down into the dark. They’d be more at home in the shade; there might be information, or perhaps some entertainment in the depths. It was tempting to explore, but looking to his elder Ab’reth leaned into her. He nuzzled her cheek, and spread his hand over her stomach.

His fingers crept up over her dress, aching to feel her skin, and as his hand moved, so too an impish spread over his lips.

“Sister… would you like to explore the cells with me… perhaps we’ll find some derelict soul from the market to… question…”

With all the suffering that had happened here, among the madness, pain and death, this felt like the first holy site they’d found in Imperia.

“Does this place have promise? Can you feel the pain here sister? Could it be made into a shrine?”

If so, any shrine needed worship. It had to be consecrated.

He wondered if she felt the same potential here. Could Haya love this place?

[Dignitas]

The stairs that led down into the hold and proper of the Slave Market were not chained or barred. Battered double oak doors hung carelessly on their hinges, having been left alone for era's now. Dust coated the floor only broken here and there, signaling that if anyone had been down there it hadn't been recently. But perhaps there were other items of interest down there, in the mournful holds of that once housed the souls of many. There also didn't seem to be anyone particularly watching the two, which meant that if they choose their descent it would likely be un-noticed. From the bottom of the stairs there was also a slow drip, likely rainwater that had either flooded or was trying to flood the bottoms.

(ooc: Just wondering if you two will be progressing here or not )