No Escape ((IC))

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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As the fire destroys the web Naerdil drops to the ground and shakes her head before falling to the ground. Running towards any direction she bumps into tree's and the occasional boulder, as she fights to stay awake against the poison. Moving as fast as possible she continues to blunder shape shifting out of her cat form, stumbling on to her feet, her obe is revealed to be hared and burned in spots, the sleeve's entirely gone. Collapsing into the ground she sputters as she feels her limbs lock up.

Staring into the sky she attempts to move her arms and legs, but they feel heavy and heavier like they are made of stone. Closing her eyes as they get heavier and heavier and after a min of this she pass's out for a moment in the sand. After a great struggle she rolls over attempts to pull herself slowly to the water before the world spins and goes dark.
The sounds of a thriving ecosystem at night serenaded the young warrior as he meticulously scanned the ground below him for threats. Below him a forest tiger sat in utter silence waiting, searching, for prey. *tick* *Tick* *Tick* the strange unnatural noise made drughs hackles rise. Peering over the large branch that he rested he again scanned the ground, searching every bush, every crevice but again only the tiger was their, squatting silently still in wait. As Drugh began to relax again the unnatural ticking reached his ears, again he scanned the ground, and again only the tiger remained.

Closing his eyes, he let his other senses dim, allowing his hearing to heighten. Again the ticking came but this time he heard the rustles of leaves, and then the snap of a branch oer his head. Immediately drugh snapped open his eyes and brought his spear up over his head in a defensive position. To his surprise and horror a large forest spider was in mid air, venomous fangs dripping malignantly, intent on feasting on the young orcs flesh.

Catching the spider along the shaft of his spear, drugh grunted in strain as he attempted to launch the spider off the branch. He watched as the spider flew, but not far enough. With feral grace the delicate legs of the spider found purchase on the very end of the branch some yards away. With a curse Drughs mind raced as he tried to conjure a plan. He was at a disadvantage this high in the air. One slip of a foot would spell death for the orc warrior. Hefting the spear I his right hand, he hurled the wooden shaft at the spider’s body. As the spear left his hand drugh drew the spear and then began scrambling down the branch. Fear, and adrenaline made drugh moved faster and more dexterous then he though possible.

He was almost their, some 15 feet from the forest floor, drugh’s luck ran out. The jagged shard of metal he had been using as an assist slipped from his large fist causing the orc warrior to plummet to the forest floor. Drughs eyes went black for a moment as the force of the impact knocked thr orc out. Disoriented, drugh stumbled aimlessly trying to get his bearings. The guttural growl was drughs only warning as he was again sent sprawling. A heavy weight lay on his back and deadly claws sought purchase on his skin. Only the orcs heavy plate male saved him as the large tiger sought to turn him into a midnight desert. With a savage blow drugh struck out with his heavy mailed gauntlet striking the beast in the muzzle. The beast squealed in pain before spring backwards. This would prove fatal for the tiger.

Descending like death itself the spider seemed to appear from the heavens sinking its teeth into the exposed neck of the tiger. The tiger let out an unearthly wale as the spiders venom went to work. Drugh had seen enough, turning on his heel he made a mad dash too the sea. Though it had taken a long time to get from the sea to here, he had to conceal his tracks; he had to be stealthy, not anymore. Like a bat out of hell the drugh dashed towards the sea
At the Pit:

The two towering fire elementals silently led the group into the main fortress. At first, the upper halls appeared typical of a stone dwelling. Windows let in enough natural light to see by, guards were stationed at intervals, halls and side rooms could be seen. The elementals led the captives toward the back of the building, then separated slightly, one leading the captives down a stone stairway, while the other acted as rearguard. The stairway spiraled underground, lit at intervals by torches, though the elementals gave off enough light to see by.

Noises began floating up to the ears of the captives: clanking, scraping, the hiss of steamworks, the sound of feet scurrying along the stone floor. The noises grew louder, until the stairway opened into a large underground room. It was a workshop, staffed by what appeared to be primarily gnomes with a scattering of goblins. The gnomes all seemed thin and unhappy. Their clothes were tattered and their bodies covered with burns and scars. The goblins seemed to fare slightly better, but even they seemed slightly fearful in their actions. On the workbenches sat an odd assortment of items: clear glass domes, engines of various sizes, large and small metal tubes, and many other metal assortments. The room was oppressively hot and poorly ventilated.

The elementals led the group toward an elevated chair. The chair itself was large, well-padded, and comfortable looking. In the center of it sat a small goblin, looking almost comical in the huge chair, like a child sitting in his father's armchair. There was even a box set in front of the chair to give the goblin a step up. On either side of the chair stood two very unhappy looking women: one human and one blood elf. They were wearing skimpy, midriff-baring dresses, and fanned the goblin slowly with large oval-shaped paper fans.

The goblin himself was richly dressed in a well-tailored pair of dark-colored pants, a white silk shirt, and had a dark jacket draped over one arm of the chair. One word might come to mind when looking at this goblin: pointy. His ears were long, thin, and sharply pointed, his dirty-yellowish hair grew in such a way that the stiff, short strands formed a point at the back of his head. When he smiled, it could be seen that his teeth were pointed too. Even his long nose and small chin seemed sharp. His skin was a yellowish green, and he seemed small even for a goblin. It could be seen that he was old enough to be considered an adult, though not by much.

He seemed not to notice the newcomers at first, maybe the noise of the workshop had disguised the noise of their entry. He was absorbed with the book in his hand, which the group could read was titled Best of Gold Diggers Monthly. The cover had a picture of a female goblin wearing nothing but a utility belt and a hard hat, posing with a mining pick in her hands. The goblin licked his thumb and used it to slowly turn a page. He caught the movement of one of the elementals and flicked his yellow eyes upward, finally noticing the group.

He snapped the book shut with on hand and tossed it with all his strength at the human woman, who squealed and flinched as it hit her thigh. “Fan harder! It's hot as an orc's balls in here! Can't you see I'm SWEATING?” he yelled, in a high-pitched voice.

The human woman began to furiously fan the goblin as he hopped down onto the box in front of his chair, then to the floor. With the book out of the way, the group could now see he also wore an oversized belt that seemed to have several remote controls and pouches on it.

“So, these are the troublemakers?” the goblin said with a sad, somewhat amused shake of his head. “I need to find better minions. How could this raggedy bunch stage an escape? Ah well. Soon I'll be powerful enough to not have to worry about hired help anymore. People will flock under my banner, because everyone wants to be on the winning side. And in this case, you spell 'winning' as B-I-T-Z-Y. Bitzy Glintslick is the name. Remember it.”
The goblin looked up at the group appraisingly. “Now, I'm not stupid. And for your sakes I hope you aren't either. I'm not going to stand here and make speeches about what I've got going on here, lets leave that to the villains in children's storybooks. I can see that you have a degree of skill and competency about you. And, as you can tell from this afternoon's little drama that you caused, I can use some decent men and women working for me. Pit slaves are a silver a dozen. Strong fighters are a rare treat.”

The goblin stopped taking for a moment and snapped his fingers, causing the blood elf woman to drop her fan and run toward him with a goblet of wine. The goblin drank deeply then handed it back to her. “As I see it, you have two choices. You can work for me, and be fed, clothed, and sheltered well. Or you can refuse and be thrown into the quarry and chained in a line to slave away until you die of starvation or illness. It's your choice, but I think we all know what the right move is here.”

The goblin crossed his arms and smiled widely, sure that his intimidating speech would cow the rebellious slaves into seeing things his way.
Hailla and Sorsim glanced at each other, back to the goblin, and back at each other. A second later, the two sidled together and dropped their heads together, conferring in low voices. The people around them might occasionally be able to hear a whispered sibilant, but not much else.

"You cannot seriously be considering this little prick's offer." O'Keere hissed. "We need to get out of here as fast as f*cking possible."

"At least this guy doesn't monologue like our commander." Sorsim shot back. "Besides which, you know that in case of capture, operatives like us have precisely two directives. Escape, or else commit suicide so we can't talk. Playing along is the only way we'll be able to escape."

"Yeah, but... this gold addict just makes my skin crawl. There's something off about him, and I'm not just referring to the half-naked slaves, the workshop, the fire elementals, and the f*cking secret island fortress. If we toss in with the goblin, even for a short time, I can just tell that bad sh*t is going to happen. You cannot seriously be considering becoming this guy's henchmen." Hailla finished with a repetition of the same line she started with. Sorsim paused for a moment beneath his hood.

"I don't know. I'd say that you would look pretty good in one of those slave outfits."

The rest of the people in the workshop could discern a moment of silence followed by a grey-sleeved flash of motion, a startled "OW!", and the two Cabal members turning back to the throne, Sorsim blinking back tears and a small stream of blood running from his nose.

"Right, we'll join you, but we have conditions." Hailla said. "All five of us are to be treated well. I want the captain of the ship that took us here, and I want him delivered to me personally after he's recaptured. If I could borrow your torture chamber when that happens, it would be nice but not essential. Finally, I want my gun back. It should be in one of the crates that was unloaded from the ship. And tell your goons that if they so much as scratch it, I will personally gouge out their eyeballs, rip off their head, and sh*t down their neck. Other than that, we're all for joining you."
Adrian and Dristis looked at each other during the walk down the stair case. Slave work could be heard. When the hall became narrow, Adrian placed himself between the rear elemental guard and his new Draenei friend. He still thought of himself as a Squad leader, and placed the safety of others before himself at all times. His brother did the same.

Getting to the room with the source of the work, they were halted in front of a Goblin. A tiny Goblin.

"A pointy Goblin!" Adrian said aloud. He looked at the others. Dristis returned his look. He shrugged, but in an agreeing manner. He couldn't deny that this was, indeed, a pointy Goblin. Adrian grinned at his brother.

The Goblin spoke to them. Offering them an ultimatum. Again, the brothers looked to each other. Hailla and Sorsim were speaking in hushed tones. Adrian only caught small tidbits of their conversation.

Something about... Bad grits are being fed to the captain?

Adrian's hearing is not what it used to be.

Dristis shook his head at his brother's confusion and agreed with the other two comrades. Adrian had to agree, because he wasn't leaving his brother. Sorsim was struck across the face. Adrian seized the moment.

"Looks like someone has a case of LITTLE GOBLIN SYNDROME!" proud of his quip, he didn't notice the fist cocked back and striking him across the face. He shoot his head and stumbled against his brother to remain standing, "What happened?" he asked Dristis.

"Just you being you." he replied and stood his brother up straight, wiping the blood from his nose. He patted his shoulder and faced the Goblin again, awaiting what would happen next.
Near the beach:

Elise frowned as stood, waving her arms and shouting at the death knight that was slaughtering her spiders. “No no no! No! That's not-” A bolt of energy flew at her from the death knight, and Elise's old training as a priest took over. She unconsciously raised a magical shield about her which absorbed the malicious power. She then continued walking toward Dalfein, gesticulating and shouting as she went. “Why are you doing this? No. This isn't how it works. Yes. I find the prisoners, my spiders bite the prisoners, yes. I take the prisoners back. The goblin pays me. This is how it works. No deviations.” As she spoke, Elise walked around the area, picking up any spiders that were clinging to life and gently shoving them up her nose.

She turned on Dalfein angrily, pulling a long, rusted knife from one sleeve. She advanced menacingly, swinging wildly, though if she managed to hit Dalfein, the rusted blade would just clang against his armor. At this moment, a rustling in the grass heralded the appearance of Elise's other band of spiders, the ones that had caught the three fugitive girls. The girls were loosely wrapped in silk threads, possibly semi-conscious as the spiders delivered their prey to their master.

“See?” Elise said angrily as she pointed to the girls. “Now we go back. I get paid, I go back. Yes. Yes. Yes. This is the best idea. Come now. To the goblin. Or I'll knife you.” Elsie made a few more swings with her knife, more angry over the death of her spiders than anything else.

Annalin let out a groan as they were captured and being taken down to who-knew-where. And it wasn't just herself, Teron, and Lia. It was some of the others that were once in The Pit as well. Annalin eyed them all as they were escorted down lower and lower into some building. If she had caught their names, it'd make things a bit easier. She didn't know which was better either: forming a big group and having more plans to debate about or having a small gathering and not being seen as easily.

Soon her train of thought was disrupted as new sounds came rushing to her ears. The sound of steam, of people, of work. Is this where they all were now in their lives? About to be put to work and never see the outside world again? Although she was an undead being, Annalin did like to see the open world. The dead grass that would appear after she was testing a bomb out, the stars which look like shuriken, or the rotting mess that was the Undercity. Being stuck in some hot, sweaty factory was something that was never on Annalin's list.

Her eyes left the scenery before her and went up to the plush chair to which they were all led. Inside the enormous chair, was a tiny little goblin, reading some explicit magazine with a raunchy covergirl. Annalin frowned and squinted at the goblin. He barely looked old enough to be reading anything of that material.

As the goblin began talking, Annalin instantly wanted to cover her ears and ignore his squeal of a voice. His name was Bitzy, apparently how someone of lower intelligence such as himself would spell 'winning'. Annalin rolled her eyes as he kept complaining. She was ready to block him out when he finally spilled out what they were really here for.

"As I see it, you have two choices. You can work for me, and be fed, clothed, and sheltered well. Or you can refuse and be thrown into the quarry and chained in a line to slave away until you die of starvation or illness. It's your choice, but I think we all know what the right move is here."

Annalin's interest fell immediately and a pit of anger began to swell in her stomach. Work for him or die while working? What kind of choices were those? In a place like this, what was she expecting. Between the two choices, it was obvious which was the better. But which one would be the better choice in order to escape? Either way, one would be watched. As a slave, by the elementals and guards. Working for him it'd most likely be the same way, with only a small chance of some leeway.

The forsaken closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, trying her best to calm herself before speaking. It was difficult when she had such a temper. On an empty island. Without any weapons. Annalin flared her nostrils and opened her eyes, her teeth clenched as she spoke.

"I believe we do all know the right move. How about we just start the work already?" Annalin stated, raising an eyebrow at the goblin in charge.


Sweat dripped down a green scalp, a matching hand soon wiping it away, then moving to block the sun from the mix-matched eyes of an orcess. In her vision, there were trees and a bunch of huts all thrown together. It wasn't her home, but it was the card she was dealt for now. Nek'mashra would hopefully get a better hand later.

With a sigh, her hand dropped back down to her side, landing on her feline's head. Cat nuzzled up against her palm, a chain strapped around her neck. There was no way Nek'mashra could remove it, it was imbued there like her eye was to her socket. That was probably one of the funniest memories to the orc. When the guards had tried removing her eye, thinking it a weapon. They pried, poked, and even tried plying it out. Nothing had worked and all the meanwhile Nek'mashra had laughed. They eventually gave up, keeping a close lookout on her until they realized she couldn't, or didn't, use it for harm.

Nek'mashra glanced down at Cat as they began to walk, glaring at the chain. It still upset her. Chaining up Cat as if she was some animal! They were the real beasts! It was to made sure she wouldn't run away, they said. Like Cat would ever run off! She rolled her eyes as they continued on their strolls to the huts, after the days work.

"Cat, once this is all over, you're going to get the biggest fish I can find. It'll be as big as a whale!" Nek'mashra exclaimed, using her hands and arms to show Cat just how large it'd be. She suddenly dropped her arms and tapped her chin. "Actually, maybe not. I mean... Cat... we've been needing to discuss this... you've lost some weight here, which I'm sure is obvious but... it suits you. You were just getting a bit too big on our adventures... Now don't give me that look! Someone had to tell you sooner or later, and it was probably best that it was me!"

By the time Nek'mashra had finished explaining Cat's weight to her, she had entered her hut to find it occupied by two humans. Two humans which she had never seen before... or had she?

"WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN NEK'MASHRA'S HUT?!" The orcess hollered, pointing to the male at once. With the simple order, Cat went and pounced on top of the male, hissing as she did so. Her claws extended, but they missed him entirely, going over his shoulders as she tried pinning him against the wall. Nek'mashra rushed over to the woman, reaching her arms out as if to mimic Cat and pin her to the wall as well. "WHY ARE YOU HERE! GET OUT OF MY HUT! I DID NOT INVITE YOU!"

As her vision dimmed, the movement of the spiders came closer, swarming over Erani and then towards her. Even as unconsciousness claimed the young teen, Maj could feel the singing of bites and then....nothing. Limp and unresisting the Novice of the Holy Light was wrapped in the spiders' webs and dragged to their master.

The small form was silent and unresponsive to everything around her. Stray hair that had fallen free from her braid was matted from grime and sand to the teen's unhealthily pale features. Between the mana exhaustion, lack of proper rest and nutrition, topped by the venomous bites from the Huntress's didn't look very good for her...
Dalfein watched carefully as the Forsaken woman came down the cliff, he tilted his head in confusion at her shouted words.

“Why are you doing this? No. This isn't how it works. Yes. I find the prisoners, my spiders bite the prisoners, yes. I take the prisoners back. The goblin pays me. This is how it works. No deviations.”

Dalfein's look of confusion continued as the woman picked up some half living spiders, and shoved them up her nose, he imagined most people would be disturbed bythis, but he had seen worse things. He smirked as the woman advanced on him with a rusty knife, does she really think that knife scares me. He chuckled at the woman's antics, "What did you expect an escaped prisoner to just lay down, and let you recapture him, I don't know what your former prey was like, but I don't like to just lay down and accept things, I prefer to fight with all of my strength. Besides you were the one who sent your spiders after me without knowing what you were getting them into, perhaps next time you should study your prey a bit more before trying to capture it. I mean if you care that much for your spiders you shouldn't throw them to their deaths."

The Death Knight sighed, "I also do not approve of you hiding behind your spiders you should do your own dirty work, I mean where is the fun, and adventure in being behind the scenes. Don't misunderstand, the use of the spiders is fine, but at least put yourself in harms way as well, there is no honor in sending others in to die for you. Also you do realize that your little knife is practically useless against me right, even if I didn't have my armor, I could disarm you pretty easily, you so full of openings, an amateur could disarm you." Dalfein took a fighting stance, "I can see though that you do not intend to let me go so I guess I am going ot have to take you down before I can get off this beach."

He was just about to attack the woman when some shuffling in the trees drew his attention, he watched as a few spiders dragged some of the other prisoners he remembered seeing in The Pit, including the young priestess.

“See?” the woman said angrily as she pointed to the girls. “Now we go back. I get paid, I go back. Yes. Yes. Yes. This is the best idea. Come now. To the goblin. Or I'll knife you.”

The woman swung her knife a few more times for emphasis, Dalfein kept his face passive so as not to give away his concern for the others. If he was quick enough he could take the woman down, and probably get her to call of her spiders, with a little prodding of course. "Unfortunately I don't like doing what I am told, and I do so love to make normally easy things extremely difficult," the Death Knight smiled and found his center of gravity, ready to spring into action at any moment.
Rysill sighed as she approached own tent and tossed back her hood, finally finished toiling for the day. ‘Free from the tyranny of the Lich King, one of the greatest and most powerful threats to all of Azeroth, only to be enslaved by a pathetic little goblin whelp,’ she thought to herself bitterly. ‘Should’ve stayed dead.’

When she was immediately distracted by the sound of Nek’mashra’s screaming.


She blinked and replaced her hood before going to investigate the commotion coming from the orcess’s hut. Tossing back the entrance flap she looked around and asked, “Nek? What is wrong? Are you alright?” Then her azure eyes fell on the two intruders and she frowned. “Why, hello there,” She said her voice hallow and empty. “I do not believe we were expecting company. Would you mind explaining why you seem to be distressing my neighbor?"
Naedril awoke to being wrapped in webbing, groggy at first she gasps, looking around she see's only webbing. The poison had run its course and she was no awake, staring around her the site of the tree's made her feel at peace....that was until she heard the yelling, blinking she turns her head her eyes widen as she see's what she assume's is their captor. Squinting she looks at the woman "H.....Hey!! whats the deal? " at the Naedril struggles weakly in an attempt to escape.

((Crappy post is crappy >.<))
John, still in disguise as a guard, had followed the patrol of guards into the fortress, keeping a slight distance behind the prisoners and elementals. The patrol itself had about three other guards, each with their weapons ready to be drawn. John kept his hand on the hilt of the blade he borrowed from the man he jumped, trying to play along and blend in.

Eventually, they had made it into the fortress, still following behind the fiery monstrosities that prevented any escape. Inside the fortress, was actually much nicer than he thought it to be… for a fortress on some deserted island. It was a big step from those ragged huts that surrounded the pit, at least. As they walked down a corridor, John spotted a room labeled, "Storage". If there were anything he could attune himself to power his magic, it would be in there. He grinned, waiting for the right moment to try and break off from the patrol so he could sneak inside and scavenge for some supplies, but alas, one of the guards grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back into the group. "Sorry newbie, we're not guarding the storage room today. We've got something better…" John gulped as they continued to follow the elementals down into a dark room.

John followed the guards and the elementals down into a spiral staircase that led deep underground. With each step he took, he grew more curious to where they were leading the prisoners… or what they were going to have them do, even. On the upside, John would most likely not be doing whatever it was intended for the prisoners to do down there. The downside was, if he got caught then he might get something worse, so John promised himself that he would do whatever he could to not get caught.

Eventually they made it down into this screechy, gloomy factory run by rugged goblins and gnomes who look like they haven't seen the light of day in ages. It was a sad sight for John, but he couldn't worry about these people at the moment. He needed to think of a plan. Two guards had split up and stayed back to guard the entrance, while John and another had taken spots near the goblin in the chair.

"This is the guy in charge of the island? You've got to be kidding me…" John sighed before quickly posturing himself to look more professional. He thought the man in charge would be some pale, pasty warlock with a bad sense of facial hair, but no… it was a gold sucking goblin. Great. He listened to the little man talk, holding back the rolling of eyes. He really couldn't stand it and was only a little tempted to walk up to the man and stab him right there, but that would be stupid.

Anyhow, Bitzy gave the prisoners two options and John hoped they would pick the first one, because if they didn't he might be in a bad position… or not. It really depended on how everything worked out. For now, he just remained pretending to be a guard, watching… waiting for an opportunity to arise.
At the beach:

Elise turned her head from Dalfein a moment to survey the captives that had been dragged over. As she heard a shout from them.

"H.....Hey!! whats the deal? "

She blinked her softly glowing yellow eyes and smiled in a benign way, as though the web-bound women were mischievous children that had run away only to return to their mother an hour later. She shuffled toward them, brandishing the knife. She stood over Majustu and raised the knife, slicing downward expertly. The knife neatly severed the threads of web near the girl's face. Elise poked Majustu's cheek roughly, then awkwardly patted her face. She stashed the knife in her belt and withdrew a tiny vial from her sleeve. The vial contained a small amount of blue liquid.

Elise uncorked the vial, then ran her free hand through her short hair until she found what she was looking for, and withdrew a scrabbling spider from its perch on her scalp. She then placed the vial on the ground and began poking the spider's head with one finger, until the bad-tempered creature sank its fangs into her finger. Elise then popped the spider into her mouth and swallowed, while she held her bitten finger over the vial. Since she had no blood flowing through her body, the venom the spider had expelled stayed in her finger, just under the skin. Elise pressed the wound gently with her thumb, and a tiny drop of venom fell into the blue liquid inside the vial. Elise picked up the vial and swirled it a bit, the venom turning the blue liquid a dark purple color.

She then poured a few drops into each of the the women's mouths, giving Majustu the largest dose of the three. The potion would strengthen them a bit, and also counter-act the spiders' paralyzing venom. It would take a few minutes for the potion to work, so in that time Elise used her knife and cut the webbing from the women's legs, and rebound their hands behind their backs.

Once that was done, Elise removed a shard of broken mirror from her belt and surveyed her reflection. She ran her hand through her dirty hair and pantomimed applying lipstick and blush to her lips and cheeks. She then nodded to the reflection, apparently happy with the “changes” and turned to Dalfein.

“We are heading to the fortress, yes. You should come with us. I won't even tie you up. You'll be a good boy and come with us, yes. The goblin will pay me, you will work for him. I don't work for him, I am an independent contractor, yes. He pays nicely,” Elise rambled, thinking that her offer was perfectly sensible and that Dalfein would surely follow her. Elise seemed to completely forget that she had attacked Dalfein with spiders and a knife only minutes ago.

The girls on the ground seemed to be feeling the effects of the potion, so Elise turned back to them. “Up, up, up! Yes, back to the fortress you naughty girls.”

Inside the fortress:

Bitzy stood, listening to the random outbursts and attempts at negotiating with him. He smiled again as the consensus seemed to be in favor of working for him. He clapped his hands once and replied, “Great, I knew you were smarter than you looked. Now, as for weapons... I'm not as green as I seem. You will get one whip and one pair of spiked knuckles. You can keep the slaves in line with those. Once you've been good little minions for a while I'll think about givin' you your old weapons back. As for that useless pirate captain, yeah you can have him. I had planned on killin' him anyway, he knows our location and that's not good for his health.”

Bitzy looked passed the group of new employees and barked at the guard detail behind them, “Get these people some weapons! All of you, your first assignment is to get the slaves under control. They're not rebellin', but the escape has got them all stirred up. It's getting late, so they should be returnin' to their sleeping huts. Go in and do a few beatin's, knock some heads, show them who's still in charge. Oh, and if the slavecatcher should bring any captives back, make examples of them. I don't care what you do, just don't kill them.”

Bitzy climbed back into his chair and snapped his fingers, causing the human woman to hurriedly hand him his discarded book. “One last thing: if I hear the slightest hint that any of you are usin' your new found freedom to do anything other than obey my orders...”

Instead of finishing his sentence, Bitzy removed a remote from his belt and pressed a button. The shackles on the two fire elementals glowed briefly as gouts of steam issued from them and the fire elementals roared in pain swinging their arms and pounding the stone floor in agony, leaving red-hot glowing areas where ever they touched.

Bitzy released the button and the elementals gradually calmed, though they rumbled in rage. “My pets obey my word, and my word is law. Now get out of here, I'm sick of lookin' at your ugly faces.”

In the slave quarters:

Gareth and Setra had hid for quite a while, unsure of how much time had passed. The plan was to wait until dark and make a break for it, so until then there was nothing to do but lay low and hope the other captives would be enough of a distraction for them to remain unnoticed. At any other time, Gareth might have been his usual self and made friendly passes at his companion, but now his thoughts were black.

"I can't believe that slime killed my crew..." he muttered for the fifth time in the past hour. Setra herself had ceased trying to comfort her captain, after a while it was clear he wanted only to vent. She she crouched in the darkness beside him, keeping and eye and ear out for anyone approaching. It was her vigilance that kept them from being caught completely unawares as Nek'mashra returned. Setra jabbed Gareth with an elbow and signaled that someone was coming, they both got to their feet as Nek'mashra walked through the doorway.


They both raised their hands placatingly, neither sure how to handle an angry orcess. Gareth gulped as the large feline hissed and leapt at him, though it caused no damage. Setra's breath was knocked from her as the orcess pushed her roughly against the wall.

Gareth assumed this green-skinned woman was a dumb brute, and lifted a trembling finger to his lips in a universal sign to be quite. “Shhhh we're prisoners just like you. Friends! Friends! We're friends! Shut up!”

Luckily, at that moment Rysill entered and both Setra and Gareth fixed her with pleading gazes. “Call the orc off! She's gonna get us all killed!” Setra hissed. “They want us dead and if they find us with you they'll slaughter us all.”

Teron and Lia


These were the only real words that Lia could utter after the whole speech from the goblin. She turned to her right, looking at Teron with the look of disbelief "I mean...Really? We have to work for Him?" Teron ignored the woman for a moment, watching the goblins every move as he left. It was obvious, he had control over this entire compound, and show no signs of being reasoned with. Looking towards Lia, he smiled "Hey, look at it this way, at least we wont be in that horrible pit and you don't have to walk around in your under" he lowers his voice for only her to hear "It gives us time to snoop around a bit. He may not be able to be reasoned perhaps we can outsmart him."

"And just how exactly do you think we can manage that?" Lia whispered back, almost scowling at the man, her brows knitted together. To be honest, Teron wasn't really sure himself, right now he was just taking it in baby steps, little by little. "I'll think of that part later...right now, we need gear."


Lia was surprised as she was given her gear. They actually had things that fit a women...though she had not seen them amongst the ranks of the slavehandlers when they arrived. Then again, she never really wanted to know that anyway, she just wanted to feel like she had protect over her skin again like she did with her Cryptstalker set. Even though it was just leather, she felt like she could fight again, ready to knock a few guard skulls in, not slaves.

However, the hand on her shoulder interrupted those thoughts. Teron, yes he knew exactly what she was thinking, but of course...would tell her that it was a bad idea. Sighing, she begin to tighten the straps of her armor just to make sure everything was good and in order before reaching down to grab her spiked knuckles and whip "So just go in...flash a whip...then what?" Teron would have long finished putting on his new gear, his old gear off to the side for later use "We look for the captain and his...'companion'..of sorts. Where ever they might be, it's probably in the slave quarters. We'll check after we present ourselfs accordingly."

With that, they both walked outside, looking like two slavers ready for work. They took note of where all the slaves were heading...which were just huts that were scattered around the compound. "How do you suppose we look for them...they could be in any one of them." Teron scoffed, then chuckled "You know for a Huntress, you're bad at your's simple, you pick up the trail, we look for them, we find them and then...we'll see what happens..." he pulled out his whip and gave it an experimental crack "Now...are you ready?"

Lia sighed, pulling out her own whip "Ready as I'll ever be..." And so the two went forth, whips lashing at slave's feet, shouting at them, barking orders at them, watching as they flinched with everything they did. In a way, Lia felt pitty for them, to live a life that only had pain, suffering, misery and fear baked into their very hearts. She wondered where they came from originally, if they had families, homes...other lives...or were they simple slaves that were just found and brought from who knows where?

She did manage to pick up the Captains trail though, and it seemed that he was indeed hiding in one of the huts. Beckoning to Teron, they quickly walked out of view, searching and listening, seeing if they could locate them..
Dalfein kept his face passive as the undead woman seemed to give the women, what he assumed was an ant-venom. When she began to "primp" herself in a broken shard of a mirror, something clicked in his head, does she still see herself as alive, based on her actions I would imagine she might have been beutiful in life. He could use this, he had always been an observant man, even in life, her manic actions suggested something wrong with her brain, besides the fact it was undead. He imagined she must have died due to some sort of head injury, which affected her brain even in undeath, of course this was all conjecture on his part, he could be reading too much into things.

" We are heading to the fortress, yes. You should come with us. I won't even tie you up. You'll be a good boy and come with us, yes. The goblin will pay me, you will work for him. I don't work for him, I am an independent contractor, yes. He pays nicely,”

Dalfein scoffed, "Do you really think I am going to work fo... Hey at least pay attention to the person you are speaking with if they try to talk to you!" The woman had turned her back on him during what he had hoped would be a daring speech, and began to try and coax the others up. As irritating as that was Dalfein reminded himself, that if he played his cards right, he may be able to make a "friend," Sammuroth would frown on such tactics, but the Death Knight used whatever advantage he could gain, outside of combat. Taking on, what he hoped was a gentlmanly tone he said, "My dear lady, it is quite rude to turn your back when someone is speaking to you. Surely a woman of your high upbringing would not dream of doing such things, I am sure it was just a momentary lapse in judgement. Perhaps you could tell me more about this goblin hmm, I would like to learn about the kind of man, who could have in his employ such a flower such as yourself." The Death Knight hoped he wasn't laying it on too thick, even if his assumption on her brain damage was right it didn't mean she was stupid, he was still ready to spring into action should the situation turn for the worse.

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