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 The Slaver Pens, 13 Cloudreach, 9:17 Dragon
Magister Danarius
Posted: Dec 4 2011, 10:56 PM


HUMAN? ⋅ BLOOD MAGE ⋅ MAGISTER


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Posts: 156
Member No.: 22
Joined: 20-May 11



The two magisters stepped together, swathed in robes representing different houses. The manacles and wand worn by the younger, auburn haired mage symbolized House Caladrius. His robes were fashioned in fine mahogany and gold threaded silks. Each step he took clinked with the weight of fabulous and gaudy gold jewelry. “I was surprised to see that you came here yourself, Danarius- what exactly have you come in seek of?”

The other Magister’s eyes- the color of polished silver, darted towards Caladrius. He had spoken very little since arriving to this Slaver’s Den. It was what House Caladrius had been known for upon generations and generations, since they had been inducted into the Senate. The most powerful and well-connected Slavery system throughout the Imperium and at one time, throughout Thedas.

Danarius was in his thirties. Wavy raven hair cascaded down his shoulders, and his jaw was fitted with a anchor style goatee. His robes were black and midnight blue velvet with a silver trim, and on the chest piece of his robes was the Merula blackbird, a avian with it’s wings outstretched. Although he was older, he had a more slender frame than the other Magister, and walked with his arms tucked in his sleeves. “A bodyguard.” He mused, his eyes refocusing to the cages as they passed. Filled with slaves in all sorts of various stages of health. Some grasping on the bars and begging to be freed. To which Caladrius would bat them away with his Staff.

“I will know when I see what I am looking for.” Danarius added.

“Good.” Caladrius huffed. “I seldom enjoy coming down to these filthy places of my own free will. But since you were the customer-”

“I quite understand.” Danarius passed several more cells, hardly raising a brow to the disgusting conditions therein.
Fenris
Posted: Dec 11 2011, 07:26 PM


Lyrium Ghost


Group: OFFLINE
Posts: 51
Member No.: 169
Joined: 11-November 11



His sister was gone already. She had been picked up already, taken away along with mother. He wanted to rage. He wanted to strike at the cage he was held in, but these were not options for a slave, not if he wished to be sold to someone who might take care of him, someone with whom he might gain trust. His sister and mother had been his everything...and now they had just been sold to some Magister. His mind was immediately moving towards ways to ensure their safety.

He could hear voices coming down the hallways. He shuffled forward, not touching the bars or pressing his face like some of the other did. He simply watched and listened as the two obvious Magisters walked closer toward him.

Magister Caladrius he knew, but the other was a mystery to him. He carried himself with a different air than Magister Caladrius, and he looked with interest into each cage, peering into them one by one before walking on in that sedate pace that spoke a lot to Leto.

The way a man walked and carried himself while he walked was sometimes the only way a slave could judge someone. Leto had made an art of it, so he watched this new Magister walk and shift his stance with slightly narrowed eyes. The nearer they came to his cell, the more his eyes lowered, so that by the time they were just before him, he could only see their shoes.

Now he would be looked over and judged. He liked it no more than any other slave, though he'd seen some preen at any attention at all. In fact, most of these slaves had been in the cells so long they would have licked those fancy shoes if ordered. Leto was not so hungry or desperate that he desired the taste of cloth on his tongue...and whatever else might be splattered across those shoes.

The man was patient. His pace was not rushed and he seemed to shuffle his feet at the end of every step, as if dragging them just a bit might slow him even further. They were still the stately steps of someone of privilege. He knew the difference between his steps and that of a Magisters. Everyone knew that difference, though perhaps the Magisters did not think on it so much.

The shoes paused in front of his cage and he frowned only slightly before smoothing his face, tipping his head downwards slightly before he dared to look up at their chests. Certainly he was not bold enough to look them in the eyes, but he was not yet as broken as most of these here. He was...more newly acquired and he would make it a point to show his difference from the others.

The faster he was chosen by someone, the sooner he could figure out a plan.
Magister Danarius
Posted: Dec 12 2011, 04:02 AM


HUMAN? ⋅ BLOOD MAGE ⋅ MAGISTER


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Posts: 156
Member No.: 22
Joined: 20-May 11



Silvery eyes came down upon the Elven boy, two pale orbs froze momentarily as if catching a ghost of a memory as they stared down at him. The strange look was so quick, so deft, that none but the looker had realized it had passed. The Magister in black quickly averted his eyes as if in disinterest, “How about that dark haired one there?” Not bothering to uncross his arms, he directed his elbow in the Elven youth’s corner.

Caladrius quirked an auburn brow, glancing to the pen in which Danarius had viewed. “Ah- these elves are simply local rabble…nothing exotic. Quite cheap, usually seized when debts weren’t paid…that sort of thing.” He shrugged his shoulders, golden necklaces and jewelry clinking against delicate chain decorating his robes. “You’d probably want something from a…cleaner…stock, wouldn’t you?” He questioned- feigned concern masking his curiosity. The businessman in him told him it was best to get the most out of the other Magister.

Danarius’s brow twitched and he breathed a pause. “I merely grow tired of aimlessly wandering these putrid halls.” He glanced at the young elf again, this time steeled- prepared and cold. “He will do fine. If it will get us out of here quicker, how much do you want for him? twenty sovereigns?”

A smirk played on Caladrius’s face, it was his favorite part of the show now. “How about fifty?” He glanced to Leto, giving him a quick glance. “He’s young…You’ll get to train him just the way you want him. It’ll be like having a new puppy.”

He scowled at Caladrius suggestive tone and pushed a pouch of coins into the Magister’s gut. “Biting and growling. A wolf pup.”

A loud laugh erupted from Caladrius as the pouch of coins quickly disappeared into his robes, it was replaced by the dull clamor of large iron key ring. As he placed the key into the lock, he shouted at the “worms” to step away from the cell door, to which the slaves in Leto’s pen backed up against the wall. The turn of the key sent a magical charge through the bars- that could’ve burned off the hands of anyone still touching it.

Caladrius pointed at Leto, “You. Come here.” He closed and locked the gate again behind Leto once freed from the pen. “You’re a lucky little knife-ear. Magister Danarius is taking you back to his compound, so you better be a good worm and do as your told.” He shoved him towards Danarius.

Danarius made no eye contact with him, his arms had refolded back into his sleeves. “I trust we are done here then, Caladrius?”

Caladrius nodded, “Unless you want to buy another one.” He raised his brows prospectively.

“…Maybe another time. Investing in one bodyguard is enough.” Danarius shook his head, turning towards the long hallway out.

“Ah, I see. A puppy becomes a guard dog…Good luck with that.” Caladrius crossed his arms over his chest, pleased with himself and the sale.

“Come, boy.” Danarius ordered to Leto, saying nothing else as they made their way past the cells and pens towards the exit.
Fenris
Posted: Dec 31 2011, 04:29 PM


Lyrium Ghost


Group: OFFLINE
Posts: 51
Member No.: 169
Joined: 11-November 11




He barely noticed the expression that crossed the Magister's face. He only did notice it because it changed the man's neutral gaze. He'd also just happened to glance up when it had occurred. Still, he had no idea what it meant, and he looked down at the man's chest again when he spoke.

Looking behind him, he noted that, yes, he was the only dark-haired one. At least, he had the darkest hair. He couldn't help staring at the sad examples of living beings behind him before looking forward. He could hear the slaver speaking in wheedling tones, trying to convince the Magister to look elsewhere.

He gritted his teeth. 'Cleaner stock?' was said in such a way as to obviously insinuate that Leto was dirty...soiled. His mother's debt had not been her fault. She'd had two kids to care for, and by the time Leto was old enough to start helping her pay off those debts, they had come to collect it in full. He knew they'd done it on purpose. They were worth more as slaves than servants who didn't owe money to anyone.

He had to step back from the bars as they negotiated him. It made him...reasonably angered, though maybe not as reasonably as some of the slaves in this pen. He could train him...like a puppy? Like a dog, he meant. His hands clenched into fists at his side as he waited for these pointless negotiations to end. He was sold. He was cheap. Let that be the end of it.

A wolf pup at least sounded better than a dog. Not much better though, he had to remind himself. He backed up to the wall, scowling, and tried to smooth out his facial features as he looked up at the voice. There was still wrinkles between his brows, but those hardly ever smoothed. His mother had said his face was more often to be unpleasant than any other expression.

He tried not to flinch as the door behind him closed with finality. He had thought this would be a good thing, that he would be glad to be out of there, but he found that those four walls with its bars had been a sort of security he lacked out here. It was suddenly open and the man he'd been shoved at, stumbling to keep from falling, was emanating that power he'd only seen before. Now he could feel it, pulsing beside him like a living being.

It was intimidating.

Magister Danarius was his name. He repeated it inside his head until he was sure he had it, though he could always just rely on master. At least he'd heard that word enough that it didn't rankle so much as it might have. He'd seen slaves resist saying the word, and he'd thought them rather fools. There were other, safer ways, to rebel...better things to rebel over than a mere word.

He blinked as he raised his head slightly in surprise, still only reaching his eyes to Magister Danarius's chest, but he was tall. He would find out soon enough if that was proper or not. That was not as important right now as the word that had been casually tossed out. He was to be a bodyguard? Elves were not - they were not fighters. He was not a fighter. Certainly not for bodyguard purposes. He'd been in scuffles in the streets, of course, and most of the time he did come out on top, but he was no burly warrior suited to protecting someone.

Still, it would be better work than cleaning latrines or serving tea and biscuits....

It took him a second to respond to being called just boy...and not knife-ear or slave or any other insult. He might have even reacted slow to any of those as well.

He hurried to follow behind the Magister, unsure what an appropriate distance was to keep behind the other man. He stared at the straight back of him and noted that he wasn't that old. He was used to Magister being...old. This one was younger.

He was quiet too, and trusting. Not that Leto would run. His sister and mother were still slaves. He couldn't go anywhere or do anything, and he did not want to start out his first day as a slave as a runaway one. If a slave was lucky, he was just punished. If he wasn't, he got strung up as an example for other slaves.

The Magister's quiet manner made him...fidgety. He was sure the other would posture at him, establish his dominance, but he just kept walking.... It made Leto uncomfortable. He wasn't sure what to do, except follow Magister Danarius.
Magister Danarius
Posted: Jan 8 2012, 04:04 AM


HUMAN? ⋅ BLOOD MAGE ⋅ MAGISTER


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Posts: 156
Member No.: 22
Joined: 20-May 11



Magister Danarius walked along the dimly lit hallway towards the large, stone double doors where two of Caladrius’s guardsman stood. They lowered their heads respectfully at the Magister’s approach, before pushing the doors open.

Blinding light poured through from the now open doors and lit up the hallway. It appeared to sometime in the afternoon. The whinny of horses nearby drew the Magister towards a cherrywood carriage. He held a pale hand over his eyes to shield his eyes from the bright sun, before quickly pulling his black velvet hood over his raven hair. The idea of his new acquisition fleeing into the mountains did not escape him. He gave a quick glance to Leto, “My carriage. I suggest you get in it.”

The footman swiftly jumped down from the bench at the Magister’s approach. He was dressed in the same black, navy blue and avian heraldry as the Magister- obviously a servant of the House. He opened the carriage door and assisted Danarius inside. The Footman quirked a heavy brow at the elf, almond-shaped brown eyes looking him over warily. He couldn’t be older than thirty. “Come on, Elf. The Magister wants you inside with him- no funny business.”

(OOC: Sorry this is so short. I wanted to give you a chance to act.)
Fenris
Posted: Jan 11 2012, 07:45 PM


Lyrium Ghost


Group: OFFLINE
Posts: 51
Member No.: 169
Joined: 11-November 11



Leto hadn't seen the sun in...days or had it been weeks already? He wasn't sure, but nevertheless, the light from the opening door made him stop, eyes stinging. He put a hand over his eyes much as Danarius had, but it likely wasn't as intense a discomfort for the Magister. In fact, it was painful for Leto.

He closed his eyes, willing himself not to tear up, and slowly opened them. Then he finally lowered his hand, realizing the other man had already walked out the door. He scurried to catch up to him, and then stood looking at the carriage in a bit of amazement.

Of course, he'd seen such things before. They'd always had to move out of the way. Then cough and shut their eyes from the dust that was left in its wake. There was never really time to look at it, to see it. Now he could see it. It was wooden, of course, but decorated in such a way, with what he was sure was gold, that it didn't look like merely wood. It was painted and curtained. Was he actually going inside it?

He'd been brought here in a cart, pulled by a tired horse that still managed to look more alive than the occupants of the cart all crammed inside together. He still remembered the smell. It had been as bad as the smell inside that building.

Turning his head, he craned it up to look at the building he had just come from. He hadn't had time to look at it when they'd brought him. It had been night and raining. He remembered being cold, along with his sister, both of them shivering as they'd been hurried and shoved inside.

He turned back to the carriage at the sound of Danarius's voice only to watch the Magister be helped into the cart. The human outside of it, wearing livery that must be the Magister's, was staring at him, glaring down his nose. His tone conveyed the rest of his disgust.

Funny business? He actually raised a brow to look at the other, as if asking without words what kind of business he could do, let alone how it could end up being funny.

Stepping toward the carriage finally, he took a deep breath in and then blew it out as he grasped the edge of the opening to help pull him up. He felt blinded again in the darkness of the carriage's inside, but at least it was cooler in here without the glare of the sun on his black hair.

He paused, half in and out of the carriage as he tried to look without looking at the Magister to see where he was sitting. Was he supposed to sit on these nice cushions or was he supposed to sit on the floor? His mouth tightened at that thought, at the fact that he even was required to ask a question like that.

Moving all the way into the carriage, he took the seat opposite Danarius, surprised at how soft and comfortable the seat was. He supposed it would have to be. He remembered how very bumpy the cart ride had been.

He placed his hands on his knees, flexing the fingers into the material of his pants slightly as he felt the heaviness in the air. His mouth was still tight, and that wrinkle in the middle of his brows was returning.
Magister Danarius
Posted: Jan 11 2012, 10:37 PM


HUMAN? ⋅ BLOOD MAGE ⋅ MAGISTER


Group: OFFLINE
Posts: 156
Member No.: 22
Joined: 20-May 11



The carriage door swung closed behind them with a slight creak. The quirk in the Magister’s brow hinted that it had offended his ears, but his eyes had quickly shifted back towards the opposing window. A soft vibration of magic permeated the inside of the carriage, as a glow lamp slowly came to life and dimly lit up the interior. The Magister seemed accustomed to the dark- if not preferred it that way. Once the lamp was lit, he lifted his hands to closed the silk curtains over the carriage window.

He was silent.

The carriage began to move, wheels occasionally bumping upon the mountain terrain as the footman led along the ancient Imperial dirt roads through this part of the High Reaches. The Magister sat with his hands folded calmly in his lap, unmoving. It seemed like they sat in silence forever, only the hum of the glowlamp invading the tension.

His silver eyes suddenly shifted, scanning once more over the features of the young elf. He was void of expression, dark waves of hair occasionally shifting about with the bumpy ride. A calm and directed voice suddenly broke the silence, “Do you have a name?”

It was a simple enough question- the Magister had no knowledge of the slave he just purchased, only that he had somehow fallen into Caladrius’s hands though some kind of debt. Danarius could see through the grime and malnutrition that there was a handsome youth underneath. He appeared muscled as well, which likely meant he was strong- something that would prove useful in the future.

From a satchel upon the cushioned seat at his side, the Magister produced a delicious looking red apple, bread, cheese wheel and waterskin and offered it to the elf. “Eat. I can only suppose you’ve been fed nothing but slop since you’ve been in there.” Once the offering had been made, he sat back in his cushion and observed with only mild interest.

“I don’t suppose you have much trust in Magisters, but that will have to change. I’ve chosen you- purchased you for a specific duty.” He spoke seriously, and made sure his words were clear. “You will be engaging in rigorous training with my Father’s former bodyguard- once you complete that, you will be replacing her. She is old, and her sword arm has come into retirement. Instead of hiring someone from the Templary, I have decided to go this route…I do not…trust…those within the confines of the Imperium.”
Fenris
Posted: Jan 12 2012, 07:31 PM


Lyrium Ghost


Group: OFFLINE
Posts: 51
Member No.: 169
Joined: 11-November 11



He looked up in surprise at the dim glow that filled the carriage, the curtains being closed an after-thought to his mind as he stared at that calm, soft light. He knew it was magic, but he'd expected something flashier. Maybe a burst of flame or some kind of hand waving around. Instead, it seemed the Magister had not even moved, except to make the carriage darker.

The most intimate surroundings did nothing to calm Leto. The silence stretching only made it worse. He looked back down at his hands, eyes slowly adjusting to the dimmer surroundings, thankful for it even , not that he'd ever admit to it.

He stretched out his fingers from their hold on his pants, looking them over, grimacing at the dirt under his nails. He must look like a waif. They had been poor yes, but his mother had done her best to keep them clean, to keep their clothes mended and their stomachs filled.

She had done her best to raise her two children well, but she was not here now, and neither was his sister. He was alone in a carriage with a Magister, and he was his slave.

His head jerked up in surprise even though the voice that spoke to him was not loud. Still, with the silence previously in the carriage, the sudden issuance of sound was shocking.

He forced his eyes back down, that wrinkle returning. He did not know the rules here. He did not like not knowing where he should place his next step. "Yes," he answered simply. "Leto."

Stiffening as the other moved, his eyes narrowed. All Danarius did though was extract a satchel. That didn't interest him as much as what he pulled out from the satchel. He could help raising his head at the sight of that food. It was fresh, real food. Yes, he had been fed slop, him and his sister both. Danarius held real food out to him. He told him to take it with no stipulations.

Perhaps those would come later. This was about establishing...trust, right?

His hands reached out, taking what was given to him without hesitation. He could be stubborn about other things, not food.

He ate fast. He tried to be neat, but crumbs and juices and even a little water got on the cushions. The Magister said nothing though, while he ate. When he was finished, he set the waterskin beside him. There was nothing left of the other items. His stomach felt stretched.

Flickering his eyes upwards towards the other man, he frowned at those first words. Who in his status would trust a Magister? Even before he was sold off to pay that debt, he had known not to trust Magisters. No one trusted Magisters. He'd heard of places without Magisters, but they were faint tales and rumors, far removed from this carriage.

His lips twisted, but it was more in confusion than anything else. He'd been...purchased to become this Magister's bodyguard? Asking about the many guards he could have had versus the slave he now did have was one of the first things on his mind. He was glad the other had answered that. He did not understand though, why Magister Danarius would have trust issues with his own fellows. He didn't know that he should care either. His current predicament was much more important than anything else.

He clenched his hands in his lap again. They felt empty without the food to busy them, so he stuffed the legs of his pants into them again. The silence stretched out, but he was not idle. He was thinking of Danarius's words.

He would be training. He would be taught how to fight. He would be given a weapon. That did not happen to slaves.

He realized the silence had stretched much too long and swallowed. He might be expected to answer.

"Yes, master." That seemed a safe enough response. That seemed neutral, agreeable, everything a Magister might want from him.

It still baffled him, but he would have to accept this. He would accept this. This was not what he expected would become of him certainly.
Magister Danarius
Posted: Jan 13 2012, 07:59 PM


HUMAN? ⋅ BLOOD MAGE ⋅ MAGISTER


Group: OFFLINE
Posts: 156
Member No.: 22
Joined: 20-May 11



“Yes…Leto.”

The Magister bowed his head in acknowledgement as the young Elf spoke his name, then silently watched as he ate, pleased by his appetite. A pale hand reached up to gently brushed the crumbs from his face with the edge of his sleeve. The gesture was strangely affectionate, almost paternal. Yet Danarius’s gaze remained distant.

Danarius could see the wrinkle in his brow, and the confusion come into his features. He drew his hand back into his lap, lacing his fingers together. “I can sense your confusion.” He began, his silvery orbs suddenly shifted away from the elf and to a unknown point in the carriage. “I have only recently…regained my status as Magister. There are those among the Senate who believe my family name died with my Father.” He knitted his brows together, wondering why at all he was sharing this with the boy. “Which means there are those who would like to swipe the rug out from beneath my feet- that is why I cannot trust anyone within the city. They can be bought and bribed by other Magisters, I will not risk it.” He slowly glanced back towards Leto.

The soft acknowledgement from the boy was somewhat disheartening. Magister Danarius was a young Magister, only in his thirties, despite how he tried to look and act much older- with his steeled glares and commanding presence. He tried to carry himself with a much grander and larger-than-life attitude, but to the most perceptive observer it was all just a very grandiose act.

“If you act accordingly…you will be treated well.” It sounded like a promise. “I do not have the time to chase after or discipline servants who act out of line…” He leaned in. Taking in those mossy green eyes, obsidian hair and olive skin that had conjured up ghostly memories when he had first laid eyes upon him. “I want this to work out between us.” A whisper of cold breath against Leto’s cheek.
Fenris
Posted: Jan 15 2012, 04:31 PM


Lyrium Ghost


Group: OFFLINE
Posts: 51
Member No.: 169
Joined: 11-November 11



His eyes caught on that hand rising and he tensed, the edge of his mouth tensing, lips thinning. The hand only wiped at...food on his face. He actually flushed in embarrassment, more at having food on his face than the other's strange gesture. He didn't understand it, but...perhaps he just wanted a clean slave.

Still, he could have handed him a napkin, allowed him to wipe his face on his admittedly dirty shirt....

He cleared his throat as quietly as he could, trying to regain his equilibrium, but the other man was speaking, and he listened, curious now. He...hadn't been a Magister? He hadn't even known that was possible. How could you be a Magister, stop being one, and then become one again?

Looking at his chest, he frowned. So he was being specifically targeted? That meant that Fenris would not just be for show. He would be expected to...use whatever knowledge he gained. He might be expected to kill....

Would be killing other Magisters? He'd never heard of all of this before, never. Was this what life was like...for a Magister? Were they always in as much danger as...any non-Magister on the street?

Bought and bribed--? He didn't think telling the other man he could be bribed would do any good. Then there was the irony that he had just been bought....

He had family. It wouldn't be hard...to bribe him with that. It wouldn't be hard to threaten him with that. He would not tell this Magister, in case he thought of that too. He would not have his mother and sister threatened because of some Magister's fears.

Eye flitting upwards again, toward the man's chin now, covered in dark hair, he pondered those next words. They sounded like promises. He wouldn't have believed them if not for the fact that the other man probably truly didn't have time to punish him or hover over top of him constantly. He slowly nodded in acknowledgement of the promise.

Treated well.... He hoped his sister was being treated well. As for himself, he certainly hadn't expected he would be treated well. Another expression of surprise was on his face, lips parted as his eyes darted up to those...silver ones....

He was close...right there. He'd leaned in and was right...at Leto's cheek. He felt his heart speed up. What...was that look in his eyes. He'd never seen that before.

He was quite sure he wasn't supposed to stare like this, right into the Magister's eyes. He was sure that wasn't allowed. He could not just ignore how close he was though.

He swallowed dryly, tense still. He wanted to tell him to move away...to reach and push at him, but he knew that definitely wouldn't be allowed. He might become a bodyguard, but he was a slave....

How...how much further away was his place, his new...home with this man? It seemed as if they had been on the road for hours, even though he knew it was only minutes. That breath on his cheek, sweet-smelling, warm, was making him...want to twitch.
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