It was a cloudy but warm day in Sesbritch, the capital of Talland. The midday slave market had just started and the wares were brought onto a stage one by one to be bid on by prospective masters.
Among all the slaves that were sold that day, six individuals stood out.
There was the human Richard, who had been sold into slavery by his own parents from his home on Redwind isle. Unlike most slaves, his will had not been crushed during the many years of servitude. Instead he had fostered an ever-growing hatred and dreams of revenge against his captors, the gnomes. Additionally, in recent years sorcerous powers had begun to flow through his veins. He had hoped to use these powers to escape and thus started to sift through his former masters’ library for any information on magic. But he had been found out, chained with a magical necklace to suppress his powers and sent to the auction to be sold off.
There was the Mul, Brokk. Born into the ownership of a rich merchant in Braveport, he had been raised to become the ultimate gladiator. With his strong body yet hidden intellect he excelled and eventually held the title of champion for years in a row. All until he turned against his master’s will for the first and last time, whereupon he was discarded by the only man he could consider a father-figure. As he only knew life in the arena, the outside world confused him. He wished for nothing more but to return to Braveport and re-enter his master’s service.
There was the Atarist human, Dorathion. Marked by his unnaturally white hair for his age. He had been sold into slavery by debt collectors after losing all of his savings in a reckless gamble. After that disgrace, he vowed to turn to a new leaf if he ever made it out of slavery. In that regard, he had an ace up his sleeve. Unknown to the slavers, he was adept in the magics of illusion and intended to use that at the very first chance to escape.
There was the Half-elf, Ricks. His origins were veiled in shadows. Unlike any other slave at the auction, he radiated a sense of hope that none other dare feel.
There was the Kobold, Tomtom. He’d been raised in the bastard wing of a Haakish brothel, battered and bruised for being a monster race. The beatings stopped, however, once he proved himself useful in the arts of stabbing and stealing. But one day he saw a noble commit some surprisingly foul deeds at his brothel, and let the story on to some of his friends. Unfortunately, the story spread quickly across town and eventually a song about the noble’s perverse adventures was sung in every tavern. Furious, the noble looked for whoever had spied on him for revenge. Tomtom found himself ratted out by those he had considered his friends and was kidnapped in the dead of night to be put on a slave barge to Talland.
Lastly there was the bard, Matt. He had traveled with his Banjo across half the horn, learning songs, stories and even languages on the road. He loved nothing more but to entertain and his smiles were common and infectous. This all ended soon enough though, as he was the unwise one who had composed the song about the noble, and so he too had been spirited away to be sold as a slave. The striking contrast between the merry bard’s life and the harsh reality of slavery made his smiles ever more rare and his jokes took on a more insulting edge.
Six individuals stood out, and they were all bought by a recruiter from the Quarrelsome Quarry.