Kitty Whipped (Lichen please)

[Daemyon Cainestar]

50 Cryxatum Season of Summer, nightfall

Daemyon Cainestar had failed. In everything. Couldn't find a job, couldn't find a girl, couldn't make enough money to build a brothel in Jaedaxia, couldn't find a mentor to learn to pickpocket, and he couldn't find his darn pants.

Didn't know why he ended up at the Centripaxian Heartlands either. Probably was a dream that called to him. Or Myon had just taken over, walked, dragged, swam, pulled Daemyon all the way here. Everything looked strange-- he knew he was no longer in Carmelya.

Took a seat on a log and looked around. "Why the hell am I here?" Dae ran his fingers through his long black bangs and absentmindedly rubbed the long scar marring the left side of his face. He set his blue eyes on the starry heavens and sighed. The guy thought about his ice queen landlady and knew he wouldn't be missed. Unfortunately for her, he wouldn't be able to pay the rest of his rent.

[Lichen]

The Dolwoods were quiet during the day, the shifting leaves and soft bird calls lending comfort to any traveler stranded in their midst. A slight breeze blew through the woods, gentle and idealic, just enough to ease the heat and humidity of the summer’s brightening. It was strange, for so many outsiders considered the Dolwoods to be an evil and wicked wood, one that swallowed up travelers with nothing left behind for others to find. Of course, that wasn’t the fault of the Dolwoods, but rather the Denizens thereof. The woods were well known for vysstichi, with anyone smarter than a two headed cat deciding to either avoid the forest, or travel in packs.

Dae, it appeared, was not blessed in intelligence.

Nor was he blessed in luck, for he was only sitting for a matter of moments before something dark and heavy tackled him off his lock. His face was ground roughly into the dirt as his attacker quickly became his captor, pulling his arms behind his back and tying them with an efficiency and speed that spoke of great practice. Daemyon, untrained as he was, could do little more than wiggle and curse as he was quickly bound.

He was wrenched to his feet then, the speed of his ascent combined with the rushing adrenaline and likely concussion, making him dizzy and (re)introducing him to the concept of vertigo. Blinking the dirt out of his eyes, he saw his captors for the first time in the whole minute it had taken for them to tackle, bind and drag him to his feet. One was a female, clad in green and brown clothing, her hair covered by a camouflage handkerchief. The other was still holding him firmly, but was male and bald-headed. Both were vysstichi, and neither seemed particularly alarmed, taken aback, or even surprised by his presence.

The female took out a length of cloth and began approaching you. The ache in your head increased, but the dizziness faded slightly. The female didn’t seem to be carrying any weapons, but the way her clothing fit her made it obvious she was in good shape from something or another. ”This will be easier on you if you do not resist, surfacer,” she said, her voice smooth and matter-of-fact. ”Open your mouth.”

[Daemyon Cainestar]

Nor was he blessed with luck, exactly. With the bald headed man restraining him, the elf winced and blurry visions invaded his mind for split seconds. This whole scenario seemed played a million times before-- a man holding him down and then the rest faded from his mind. Daemyon breathed heavily, barely able to think but his senses returned fairly well when the female, the shapely female approached him.

"I won't resist sweetheart." With a shrug Dae opened his mouth as commanded, a part of him surprisingly aroused for the whole ordeal. Apparently, he wasn't completely sane either. Or perhaps this was part of his defense mechanism. His otoconia couldn't take another shaking-- soon he'd be vomiting from the joyride the baldy was giving him.

Before he was gagged he asked, "Am I to become your lover?" Not to the baldy, but to the femme fatale. Hopefully the gods weren't so cruel as to have him raped by a man again, this time as an adult. Dae's father owned a brothel and was probably once a slaver. Karma bit hard and now Dae had fallen into the hands of slavers.

[Lichen]

The man behind him tightened his grip on Daemyon’s shoulders at the comment. ”Not if I can help it,” he hissed into Daemyon’s ear, the words dripping with startling jealousy.

The female snorted quietly and tied the gag firmly, but not uncomfortably around Dae’s head. ”Best watch that tongue of yours, surfacer,” she recommended casually, her fingers tying the knot. ”The Matron prefers silent obedience. And you, Kazle. Don’t let her hear you speak like that.”

”The slave was being presumptuous, Mistress,” Kazle replied, his voice sullen rather than chastened.

The pressure of the gag touched a tender place on the side of his head where he’d hit it during the tackling portion of the afternoon. The female noticed his slight wince, and pulled her fingers away, the knot finished. ”Are you injured? Blink once for yes, twice for no.” With her face this close to him, he could see the length of her eyelashes as they rested against her cheeks, the mole beneath her lower lip, the tiny curl of yellow-white hair that escaped the handkerchief, and smell the faint sweetness of mint on her breath; it was easy to see why Kazle might be possessive.

[Daemyon Cainestar]

For a second, a shiver ran down Daemyon's spine-- he had thought the bald man was jealous of the enchanting slaver lass. Instead, as he painfully *albeit pleasantly* discovered, the baldy's jealousy stemmed from his obsession/possessiveness over the minty-breathed enchantress. Dae lowered his eyelids slightly before he gave her one good blink. He drew his lips upward in the best smile he could muster whilst gagged, breathed in her scent, and tried to make the best of his situation. Visualizing how he'd treat her if she were the one tied instead-- he'd be very gentle. Dae's temples throbbed. If he were to get out of this situation alive, he'd really have to find someone to cure him of his sleepwalking.

Myon had a terrible sense of direction. He had been stalking a noble woman for nights across Jaedaxia, ended up as a stowaway and brightenings later, Dae finally woke from his sleepwalking state. Thanks a lot Myon.

Dae's eyes moved from the lovely elf to the less lovely one. His fate was now in their hands, hopefully in the lass's hands. The Matron she had mentioned peaked his interest. A lady who wanted silence obedience-- Dae could deliver that. He had never been much of a talker anyway.

[Lichen]

The blink earned him a determined look, and the woman ran her hands through his hair until she found the spot that earned her a wince. She pulled clean white cloth from the small pack at her hip and pressed it gently to the spot. "No blood," she said clinically, looking at the still-white cloth. "And you haven't passed out or keeled over, so no brain bruise or breaks in the skull. A bump, nothing more. It will heal."

She put the cloth away. "I am Lescri, of House Melervs. From now on, you do not have any name but that which the Matron or her family choose to give you. If you are obedient and helpful, your life in Herozzal may be fruitful. Many slaves go on to become guards or servants of the temple, and may hold positions of some esteem. If you are disobedient, you will likely be beaten to death." The words were not weighted with emotion, but simple statements of fact. They sounded rehearsed and well-worn, slipping outwards with the ease born of professional practice.

"We must move now. Make noise only if you need to relieve yourself or vomit." Lescri said, then nodded, and the trio began to move. Lescri walked in front, holding back branches and vines, her eyes constantly moving. Daemyon was allowed to walk freely, Kazle a constant presence behind him.

The entrance to the tunnels was surprising, hidden so well by a mat of vegetation that when Lescri lifted the curtain of green back, Dae expected to see a wall. Instead he saw darkness, which only spread and encompassed him as they continued to move on. His complete lack of night vision caused him to trip and stumble, but Kazle kept him from falling with hands that were perhaps a bit harsher than was necessary. The caves grew increasingly colder, and the position in which his hands were tied caused the fingers to tingle then go numb, his nose and lips soon to follow.

They walked for well over an hour in the pitch black before Dae finally began to see light again. It was faint, and in the distance, but it was light, and accompanying it was noise. Lots of noise, actually - the sounds of pickaxes on rock, the clattering of horse hooves and wagon wheels, the aimless meanderings of peoples voices in conversation. As he pulled closer, he could smell the city as well - fresh breads, old blood, and the slight sour reek of an ineffective sewer system.

The city was vast, spreading above him and around him until he was enveloped in buildings and motions. Unlike the tunnels above it was far warmer here, and well lit. Vysstichi were the main component of the traffic flow, but there were others there as well, some dragged along by collars, others free to move about as they pleased. Most bore markings on their necks, great brands or tattoos.

They passed through the city and up into the upper levels, the climb tiring though Lescri stopped to chat with passerbys whenever he seemed to be unable to move further. By the time they had reached their destination, Dae was exhausted, his hands long since numb, his feet one big blister. Hiking through Herozzal was hard work for those unused to it.

The building was completely as unexpected as the cave enterance, perhaps more so to Dae's now tired eyes. Pitch black obsidian flowed from the floor to the ceiling, elaborately carved and colored designs sprawling across its surface. House Melervs: Daemyon's new home.

OOC: Continued here.