The Wild One (Phrost)

[counterklock]

((OOC: So this post sort of sucks. I'm not that impressed with it. @.@ ))

”Come on!” A shout rang out, and the crowd turned and looked.

It was unusual to see slaves fighting back in the Teirm slave yards, for they usually were already broken and spiritless by the time they made it to the auction block, but there occasionally was the odd spirited one, one determined to somehow break free of his or her chains and miraculously make a break for freedom, no matter how vain these attempts were in the end. When such slaves began to struggle, most people gathered around to watch in amusement and curiosity, to see how long the rogue would thrash and kick before he was overcome.

What was most unusual was that, despite the chains that bound his wrists and ankles, this slave refused to be beaten into submission. Snarling like some wild beast, the young man managed to evade recapture, dodging around the auctioneers with the agility of a rabbit, and not of a partially detained slave. The various buyers, enthralled by the entertainment, formed a loose circle around the slave and the several slave managers that were trying to get him back under control.

”Is that the best you’ve got?”

Dark brown hair, tanned skin, with wild eyes and a shadow of stubble on his jaw, Jaden Blackwell looked like a true savage. Tall and lean, but with obvious strength in his frame, the man was truly giving the slave managers a run for their money, despite their best efforts to apprehend him. Whilst he had sustained a few bruises and cuts in the scuffle, the managers were also sporting rather considerable injuries as well. He sneered at the managers as they advanced, backing up slowly as they tried to herd him into a corner. One of the less experienced managers surged forward, intending to get a loop of rope around the neck of the rogue slave, and instead the slave used the man’s momentum against him, and the manager went sailing into a nearby stone wall.

A murmur of shock rippled through the gathering crowd as two more managers attempted to circle around and catch the wild-eyed one, but the slave was obviously very intelligent and knocked them away with a few well-aimed blows. Adrenaline ran through Jaden’s veins like fast-moving fire, spurred on by the delightful high of the brawl. Grinning cockily, as if he were not shackled and covered in mud, he let out a laugh. ”Really, is this the best? I’ve had more of a challenge from a pack of ten year olds.”

”There’s five of us and one of you, slave!” One of the managers barked.

Insolence flashed in the eyes of the young man, and with an indulging little smile, he retorted, ”Go get some more guys, and it’ll be an even fight.”

Something snapped, and with a bellow one of the larger managers stepped forward, and landed a solid punch right across the young man’s jaw. He stumbled backwards, momentarily stunned with a lip split and glistening with blood, and the slave managers pounced.

They converged on the slave at once, getting the ropes around his neck, wrists, ankles, and torso, trying to immobilize him. After a split-second recovery, Jaden surged upwards, trying to throw his assailants off him, but by now reinforcements in the form of city guards had arrived, and at least a dozen men surrounded him. The spirited slave was no match for them while shackled and roped, and he was soon pinned face first on the ground, with several men holding him down.

The crowd, satisfied with today’s entertainment, dispersed. No one would bid on this slave, at least not anyone that had witnessed this display of rebellion. No one wanted such an untamed animal, prone to flashes of anger and defiance, would no doubt resist every order given. Whilst an enterprising buyer might hope to domesticate one such slave, the chances of doing so were slim, and no one liked those chances.

”Put this one in the back,” One of the managers muttered, aiming a kick towards the skull of the pinned slave. Jaden grunted as the boot impacted his head, and the world spun around him. ”See if you can beat the audacity out of this one, if you can.”

As he was hauled upwards, onto his knees, Jaden smirked. ”I’d like to see you try, chickpea.”

As a reward for his impudence, he was kicked again in the ribs.

[phrostphyre]

Sean watched the managers and slave fight, and smiled to himself as the slave evaded capture. Because of this show of audacity, courage bordering on idiocy, and channeled rage, Sean knew this one would be cheap. And cheaper because of those same exact qualities, so instrumental in forging a cattle drover into a clan warrior. Sean would start with a slave, and forge him into a clan warrior.

As the fight finished, Sean reached into his sporran and brought out a bag of coins. The clink attracted the notice of one of the managers, recognizing Sean as a Gael by his kilt. ”Good sir, what can I do for you?” Sean pointed a finger at the fighting slave, and held up the coins. Eyes narrowing, the manager did his best to dissuade Sean from his choice. Sean kept pointing. The manager tried again, and this time Sean’s hand went to his sword.

[counterklock]

This wasn’t how he’d thought things would work out.

When he had attained passage aboard the trading vessel bound for the land known as ‘Alagaesia’, he had set out with only the clothes on his back, the jade pendant that had belonged to his mother around his neck, and his sturdy longsword at his hip. The ship was small, but it still needed a crew. Fortunately, a few crewmembers were rather mysteriously absent, still passed out in a nearby seaside tavern after a rather fierce brawl, and this presented him with a convenient temporary posting until they reached their destination.

The Slavers had come in the dead of night, seven years ago, appearing from nowhere in the tiny village Jaden and Devon had been staying in at the time. They flooded through the streets, kicking down every door, in search of loot and ‘stock’. Many buildings went up in flames. There was screaming, and everyone was trying to flee, to get out of the village, and in the confusion Jaden lost sight of his ten year old brother. The slavers took most of the children, and as many women as they could manage. Jaden had been seventeen years old then.

He remembered the guilt he had felt. How could he have taken his eyes off of Devon, even for a second? Had he not made a promise to protect the younger boy, so small, so vulnerable, from the world that always sought to harm him? Jaden had been Devon’s shield, standing between him and those who aimed demeaning words or vicious blows at him. The guilt had nearly consumed him. He spent many nights drifting from one tavern to the next, downing whatever brew was put in front of him, trying to wash away his misery.

He had hit his limit, one night, after he had been thrown out of yet another alehouse. Stumbling along down the street, a thought had come to him in his drunken state; why did he not find Devon himself? He passed out shortly thereafter underneath a nearby wagon, but the idea had miraculously hung around in his (quite hungover) mind. Why did he not find his brother and rescue him?
Jaden decided to do just that. He owed it to his brother, at least, to own up to his promise.

He learned how to fight. He became adept at brawling, and learned how to handle a sword from passing soldiers and various others who would spar with him. Jaden quickly became rather skilled with the longsword he had earned during months of hard work in a blacksmith’s forge as extra hands. His muscles became hard and more developed. He was quicker than before. He was stronger. He had truly become a man.

It had taken him years to figure out that Alagaesia was actually where he had needed to go. Alagaesia was the land the slavers that had kidnapped his brother hailed from. And it was Alagaesia that he would travel to, and it was there that he would begin his search. When his ship had been overtaken by slavers, he’d decided it would be a good way to get closer where he needed to go. He had figured that, once they arrived at their destination, he’d be able to free himself and slip away into the crowd. He hadn’t counted on so many chains.

His pride had taken a serious blow, and right now, he was too furious to think of anything other than throwing off the men holding him down. If he were not spitting and hissing in fevered agitation, he would have realized that if he calmed down and faked the appearance of docility, perhaps someone would buy him, which would give him the chance to escape into the city to begin his search in full. If he had thought this out, perhaps he would be closer to finding his brother.

From his vantage point here, face down in the dirt, Jaden could see very little. He turned his head to the left, hissing as someone dug a knee into the small of his back, and caught sight of a man. Dressed in a skirt. And this skirt-wearing man was pointing at him.

The skirt-wearing man wanted to buy him.

Joy.

Jaden didn’t know if the man was speaking or not, but the slave manager speaking with him was trying to dissuade him. By the looks of things, the manager wasn’t having any luck. The man put a hand on his sword suggestively, which probably just made the manager even more nervous. He strained to lift his head, to look the man interested in buying him straight in the eye. ”Take a good look at me,” he thought with a smirk, as his head was shoved back into the dirt. ”Look at me and see that there is just no damn way I can be tamed. Remember that.”

[phrostphyre]

Sean knelt in front of the man, looking at his nose. Broken at least several times, probably in several fights. His blue eyes took in the man’s outward character, and decided it would be worth it. Now, laddie, what’ll you do if I let you free? Sean stood again and spoke to the managers. ”Let him stand. Give him whatever you took from him, including any weapons. Now, Manager, let his hands free.” As Sean put the man through his paces to find out what he knew, Sean would also be preparing for the grueling sessions they both would endure. Sean would not ask this man to do anything he himself could or would not do. If the man had to run twenty miles, Sean would run them with him. Hopefully, the idiot wouldn’t cut Sean’s arm off when they sparred.