Viddy The Katz

[Reyna]

~Another evening of usage and abuse… ~

*It wasn’t that bad. Really. *

~More or less the thoughts that went through this young hin’s mind.~

*Being chained to this pole was not too bad. Better than being the ones given to the pouncers for meal time.*

~those pretty blue eyes looked around the tent the soft breeze brushed against her marred, inked, and pierced flesh brought a shiver down her spine. The leather tapestries hand from the tent walls a large double sided axe rests in the corner next to a suit of chain mail covered in grime~

*Cleaning that is going to be a pain tonight… I hope I get to go on scout and they catch a newbie to be given that duty… Hell I hope I get scouting just so I can move around abit*

~the emblem of the Jonza enforcers rose and slumped on the cot to her right. A large man, the one that claimed her the night prior… as was common. The hins were “special” they were little ‘useful creatures’ to those who have those subtle perversions that many of these men did. Lucky there were four hins in this caravan, and this one was the oldest and even more so was able to cure the wounds that these bastards gave... both external... and those times when their size broke something internal. The others would help her out if needed… She hoped~

“d**n militia” the enforcer grumbled in his sleep as he rolled over. He reeked of the previous nights ‘activities’. The girl chained to the pole sighed and tried to get her balance to get some sleep… Tried being the key word.

~clang clang clang~
*the alarm bell… guards… the caravan has been spotted by the militia. Those d**n militia would feed us all to the pouncers and the lions if they caught us… They were the reasons the enforcers were always on the run... the reason I could never get a good nights rest…*
~The enforcer rose with a grunt strapping his chain on and snatching up his axe looking out of the wagon tent then back in to the chained girl~

“You best be ready to get to work you wretch.” Called the large enforcer, as he reached for his shackle key. Unclasping her wrists he watched as the hin fell the good two or so feet that she had been dangling from. Most slave posts were designed for the tall folks, so why waste a pair of shackles to make it suitable for the little ones when they can just dangle.

The hin rose to her feet and smiled. This was a chance to get the blood flowing again. A chance to get out of this d**n tent even if it was for only a short while. Popping her neck and stretching long like a cat, she looked around finding her hand axe and dagger that she had been trained to use. Looking up at the man she nodded with a smile as she darted out of the tent. Her job when not cleaning or crafting those wood tools the caravan or being used to satisfy the man folk was to run scout for the caravan. To lure the guards and militia away from the caravan so that they could get away safely. So her mobile home, tent thing could get away.

To the soft grass she dropped looking around spotting the first of the militia. She snatched up a rock and lobbed it at the militia man. He yells for his fellow guards as the hin races off into the woods. The thrill of the hunt. The precious time she had to play with the men, as they played with her. To lure them on a game of Kat and mouse. Until the final bliss of either the sudden escape or the exquisite quick jab of her dagger to end another worthless man’s life.

The luring went on for a bit, today there would be no kill on her hands, she having lost them in the woods west of Jonsa returned to the caravan on Rada road. She took her time returning. Though the caravan was her home, and they fed and clothed her and “loved” her, she always loved the woods more. Natia, the one she prayed to, was the one who granted her healing and her gift of speed; was one of the powers of the forest, next to Lilliana.

She approached the new campsite and saw something that w s abit off. Three of the men were curled up near the center of the camp, they were shivering and the flesh that covered their bodies was stark white as if they have seen a ghost…

Thinking that was ridicules she went to the slave tent. Inside what was usually about fifteen or more slaves was now down to nine. The militia must have caught some during the raid. As the hin went to her bunk, the scrap of torn leather armor that separated her from the hard wooden floor she noticed one of her slave sisters curled up also stark white. Mebbe they did see a ghost…

Who would have thought that notion was closer than she thought

[Reyna]

What should have been at least three, possibly four hours of sleep was only thirty or so minutes. The sounds of metal hitting metal, and groan from outside the slave tent. Then a sudden scream. The scream is what awoke the sleeping hin as those pretty blue eyes darted around. The slave sister that had been pale when she went to sleep was crawling along the ground towards Lacie, another slave scout snarling and moaning. Blood dripped from the pale deathly looking girl as she moved in such a way that lacie was backing against the back of the tent. The hin bolted upright snatching her hand axe and approached the pale sister. With a growl the pale one lurched up to claw at the hin. Instinct over fear took over and that hand axe fell, severing the slave girls head from its pretty, delicate neck.

The sounds of battle outside began to escalate and drum out the screams of the other slaves of the nine that had returned form the raid, now only 3 remained. Lacie, Twitch, and the hin that now wielded her hand axe and her magic’s for the safety of her and her sisters lives. A quick prayer to Natia the hin ran to the tent flap to see near half the enforcers in partial states of battle. Some in full armor, others still in night time breeches. These keepers of the slave’s lives seemed to be fighting for their own lives... against… Each other. The ones who had been curled beside the fire looking sickly lay dead by the fire, yet it looked as half the camp was overcome by the same infliction that those four had.

The battled raged before her as she called for her two sisters to come to the tent flap and observe the happenings of the attack. Her works careful and articulated in the Halfling speak to lacie who translated it for twitch their Elvin sister. Something was not natural here… The tall folk men not fighting… but trying to maul each other as if fueled by some primal hunger to maim and eat the warm tanned flesh of the living.

The three dived from the tent wagon and bolted into the woods, following their training of lure, the three did their best to attract the attention of the Biters and lure them away from the caravan. After nearly fifteen minutes of beaning the pale ones with rocks and branches the three were now being stalked by nearly the entire caravan of tall folk men. Bolting into the woods along the rada road into the path that lead to the east cleryia forest they ran. The whole time everything seemed off. There were animals mauling other animals, merchants eating the squishy yet steaming warm intestines of children and love ones.

Somewhere mid forest the group that was tailing the three slave sisters was too great, and if a dead end were to catch them un-aware the whole lot of them would be goners. With the normal hand signs of split up thre three parted ways... hopefully to reunite at another time. Lacie ran to the west. Twitch to the south. And our precious slave girl headed to the north.

Alone she passed through the forest gates and passed the metropolis of the dead and to her surprise the signs of smoke in the far... far distance. She double stepped it pulling on the power of Natia, hoping that such power still existed. The spell worked just in time to lighten her feet and give her the grace to duck and dive about those that followed and those before her. The ones before her seemed more common folk then the jonsa militia and the enforcers that she had come to serve and obey. Fishing lines dragged from their belts as did nets, children and women still in the evening attire as if dinner was about to be placed. They stumbled and hobbled through the woods with the moans and groans that were identical to those behind her.

Through the northeast forest she bolted. Turning the bend at the sacrificial grove that rested just outside the fishing village. A sight to behold…

A Pouncer… warped, deformed, and vicious. And it was staring at her….

The hin jumped back at the horrid sight that she beheld. The pouncer was not the issue, she has had many instances where she was able to talk down a pouncer who was going to make her lunch. What scared her was that this pouncer was not an ordinary animal. It was a hybrid of disgusting malformed fetid flesh that seemed to stalk like food was its only concerned. And right now the Hin was looking realy yummy.

Having to rethink and re-navigate southwards she ended up at the gates of a camp... The Camp of Gadget... Carefully walking in she spots the few that live there. cautiously she approached the woman in the black hood...

Allo…. Meh.. naming be’a Katz… ~ lookingt he three over.. curious wether to brace for a beating or a warm welcoming of fellow survivors. ~
Watchya be tha Cant ya cuttas?