Market mayhem
Aug 5, 2008 19:39:51 GMT -5
Post by lily on Aug 5, 2008 19:39:51 GMT -5
(( I don't care if you think you want to read all of that in order to join, but please let Toyoll be the first to reply in this thread. Feel free to hop in anytime afterwards~<3 ))
It seemed almost perfect. If all the Seere guards were flanking Ekaitz, watching for poachers coming and going, it would've been simple enough to pass elsewhere. Not to mention the thick-headed goons would never suspect someone within the lands to be committing such a taboo. It was near flawless, their safety only compromised by their victim, knowing he would be too frightened to defy them.
Dacri wasn't, as a rule, a very defiant individual. Defiance in a slave often lead their masters to anger, which lead to intimidation, which often lead to punishment and abuse, and it was common knowledge in their household that was quick to fold to intimidation. Certainly something that caused that him that much trouble couldn't be worthwhile, could it? Besides, even though Dacri knew he could defend himself if the need arose, and could probably beat his masters in a fight, it was getting to that point that was the hard part. He only struck if pushed too far, and these people were very careful with what they forced him to handle.
This move had all been the result of an 'opponent' in a slave brawl who'd pushed the little beast too far, and gotten himself killed. The move was all part of a greater plan to keep themselves entertained---after all, nothing was more thrilling than the adrenaline rushes involved with almost getting caught for doing something you shouldn't.
His Master had told him the story, which he repeated in an incessant loop in his head as he made his way down the winding path from their cozy home to the village to fetch food. Dacri worked for the family as a kitchen aide, being paid a fair amount for his services. He lived with them to be able to help them whenever the need arose. Sure, he probably could run up to the nearest beast he found and tell them what was happening, but he wasn't even sure that this was wrong, nor was he sure what he'd do without them..not to mention the family had something dear to him.
So he went, despite his suppressed revolt, to the markets for food and supplies, but what met him there was difficult for him to stomach. The sheer amount of people was enough to make his hands shake, then on top of that were the merchants themselves, bartering loudly. A single look at the environment and he knew he wouldn't be able to do it...he was too quick to fold under pressure. Darting underfoot, his small, lena body allowing him to be in and out of a space before being stepped on, he slowed infront of a stall with a modestly less aggressive seller. He took a breath. He could do it. He would try.
"I'll take a half a dozen of--" Dacri had started gesturing to a grouping of fruits he recognized, when he was abruptly cut off.
"11 coppers."
"I-Isn't that a little much?" The fox inquired, ears flattened, startled.
"Pay it or leave."
"But it's a little much..."
"Look, kid, d'you want it or not!?"
Now, your average person would, in this situation, either a) leave and look for a less expensive and less rude stall, or b) start bartering with the keeper to get a good deal on the bunch. It was evident that Dacri was supposed to be trying to bargain with the alleged price, but as mention beforehand, the poor guy was simply incapable of the act. Instead, as was characteristic, he threw in the metaphorical cards and hastily paid the man his money. This brisk act, though intended to relieve him of some pressure only, unfortunately, identified him as a weaker link.
Reading a scrawled list of needed supplies, the over-expensive food cradled in expertly-woven basket, the Beast didn't even notice something was off until all of the fruits had been plucked from its confines. This kind of behaviour wasn't something he'd experience in a long while. How dare they take HIS stuff? In obvious frustration, he threw the basket to the ground---only to see that disappear into the crowds as well. Thoroughly angry, he took off after the last theif, only to run headlong into the back of a very, very tall individual.
It seemed almost perfect. If all the Seere guards were flanking Ekaitz, watching for poachers coming and going, it would've been simple enough to pass elsewhere. Not to mention the thick-headed goons would never suspect someone within the lands to be committing such a taboo. It was near flawless, their safety only compromised by their victim, knowing he would be too frightened to defy them.
Dacri wasn't, as a rule, a very defiant individual. Defiance in a slave often lead their masters to anger, which lead to intimidation, which often lead to punishment and abuse, and it was common knowledge in their household that was quick to fold to intimidation. Certainly something that caused that him that much trouble couldn't be worthwhile, could it? Besides, even though Dacri knew he could defend himself if the need arose, and could probably beat his masters in a fight, it was getting to that point that was the hard part. He only struck if pushed too far, and these people were very careful with what they forced him to handle.
This move had all been the result of an 'opponent' in a slave brawl who'd pushed the little beast too far, and gotten himself killed. The move was all part of a greater plan to keep themselves entertained---after all, nothing was more thrilling than the adrenaline rushes involved with almost getting caught for doing something you shouldn't.
His Master had told him the story, which he repeated in an incessant loop in his head as he made his way down the winding path from their cozy home to the village to fetch food. Dacri worked for the family as a kitchen aide, being paid a fair amount for his services. He lived with them to be able to help them whenever the need arose. Sure, he probably could run up to the nearest beast he found and tell them what was happening, but he wasn't even sure that this was wrong, nor was he sure what he'd do without them..not to mention the family had something dear to him.
So he went, despite his suppressed revolt, to the markets for food and supplies, but what met him there was difficult for him to stomach. The sheer amount of people was enough to make his hands shake, then on top of that were the merchants themselves, bartering loudly. A single look at the environment and he knew he wouldn't be able to do it...he was too quick to fold under pressure. Darting underfoot, his small, lena body allowing him to be in and out of a space before being stepped on, he slowed infront of a stall with a modestly less aggressive seller. He took a breath. He could do it. He would try.
"I'll take a half a dozen of--" Dacri had started gesturing to a grouping of fruits he recognized, when he was abruptly cut off.
"11 coppers."
"I-Isn't that a little much?" The fox inquired, ears flattened, startled.
"Pay it or leave."
"But it's a little much..."
"Look, kid, d'you want it or not!?"
Now, your average person would, in this situation, either a) leave and look for a less expensive and less rude stall, or b) start bartering with the keeper to get a good deal on the bunch. It was evident that Dacri was supposed to be trying to bargain with the alleged price, but as mention beforehand, the poor guy was simply incapable of the act. Instead, as was characteristic, he threw in the metaphorical cards and hastily paid the man his money. This brisk act, though intended to relieve him of some pressure only, unfortunately, identified him as a weaker link.
Reading a scrawled list of needed supplies, the over-expensive food cradled in expertly-woven basket, the Beast didn't even notice something was off until all of the fruits had been plucked from its confines. This kind of behaviour wasn't something he'd experience in a long while. How dare they take HIS stuff? In obvious frustration, he threw the basket to the ground---only to see that disappear into the crowds as well. Thoroughly angry, he took off after the last theif, only to run headlong into the back of a very, very tall individual.
