Claire listened, and her systems began kicking in as she recognized Howler music. She thought about the song and pondered accompanying it, but wasn't sure it would be appropriate. So she reached over to briefly tug on the Heavy's sleeve as he stood guard.

"Sir, could you ask the host if I could accompany the dancer's next song?" she asked. "I am capable of mimicking any instrument or vocal range and, if necessary, providing lighting and other special effects." It wasn't an unreasonable request, except that she normally didn't show this kind of initiative. Error codes flashed through her mind, but she selected "fail" to dismiss them as she awaited the boss' answer.

The heavy looked at her with dead eyes. "That is not a part of my duty."

Observers who thought about it might recognize that the automoton had far more expression and emotion in it's eyes than he did.

One of the guards spoke up. He looked far more human looking than the quiet, deadly man. "I don't think anyone will care. The gladiator match is in a few minutes, and then it'll be time for the ceremony and we'll all clear out anyway."

Increase was approached by a servant. He was young boy, perhaps barely into pubescence, who had been spared from the ritual so that he could serve as a carrier of Laiser's will to his many subordinates. The boy whispered a message and Increase nodded in agreement.

To himself he thought the request rather unorthodox since the treasures had been assessed before but it was best not to question him.

So he made his rounds. First he surveyed the mask. It was of exquisite quality and its color so vibrant and pure that it made Increase question what dye or material could yield such a finish. There was no ghosting among the finish to show repair, no witness line to reveal it if was mold cast, or any number of other makers marks that might reveal something meaningful about its construction. Truly a masterful piece of craftsmanship; although he wondered if it was truly as deadly as they said.

Best not to risk death.

He then made his way to the automaton. Examining her from the same distance he gave the mask. She was...unorthodox. He had never quite seen a design like hers which placed her well outside the skill of the Vissians; a fact which made him smirk slightly. Her body was made of some marriage of metal and a flesh-like material. How odd.

"There's no regret that I feel
for the bittersweet taste of it all..."

  Gaja had started cautiously enough, but this wasn't her first tune of the night to lean on the romantic image of her people as unbridled and unburdened by civilization.  Neither the merchant prince she arrived with nor the host himself had given her so much as a stern look over her choices, so she took the jester's license she'd been offered.  As her latest offering swelled, she spun through the crowd, deftly writhing past catery slaves and whipping clouds of pipesmoke into delicate eddies.  Singing didn't leave much time for talking, but her dancing was expressive enough, and her eyes managed to flirt with half the room at once.  It was enough to get a few of the more inebriated visitors singing along, particularly the Republican entourage, who were the most familiar.  She contrived to end the song as close to the pedestals as she could without making the guards, especially that humorless brick of a man, uneasy.

"...free as the wind.
That is the way you should be."

Gaja got more than a few appreciative glances, some clapping and a few catcalls from  more boorish of the guests as she made her way through the room.




Once Gaja is closer to the pedestals, the more "human" Guards and some higher ranking servants clear away the center of the room for the impromptu gladiator performance of two veteran gladiators.. to the death!

Marius is slightly annoyed. They don't even mention your names as they begin setting up the gear. You can make out light armor on the jonts, legs, and neck. The weapons are pairs of short clubs with short obsidian edges, designed for long, bloody battles.


The merchant quietly remarks "It looks like you are going to be busy in a moment. I will watch your fight most intently."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:05, Mon 08 Oct 2018.

Increase saw the movement of the masks eyes but dismissed it, pulling on his rational training and the experience he had.

Definitely best not to risk death.

When Gaja approached she stole his attention away. He watched and listened, totally captivated. He might as well have been a common serf in her presence.

Her grace, her artistry, her beauty.

Increase was frozen for a moment as her song came to an end and then he abruptly turned to resume his analysis of the automaton. All the while he was adding counting by prime numbers, a method of honing his thoughts to the task. Silently he thanked the engines of probability that Laiser was not a woman as captivating as her lest whole nations fall to the way side.

Increase is not used to women. Too many years in libraries and wandering alone.

Marius had taken the knowledge of the merchant's family to heart, considering his own was butchered by those in the Great Houses. They'd blamed him for it, of course. Rogue genetic freak born of tampering best left to the Oasis States. They all whispered his family had deserved dying at his hands even though he knew he hadn't done it.

"Well, I am sorry for your losses. Know I've already suffered my own and share that pain if it is any consolation. That is the one solace I can guarantee. The fight... forgive me but I intend to win," He notes as he starts to step out, donning the armor and taking the weapons.

He was not overly pleased by any of this. He ran a legion, clawed his way to being a general. he'd paid the toll on his spirit for the deaths he'd had to cause. He wasn't a mosnter but war was ugly as hard as he tried to keep things under control. Now all he knew was ugliness. The pain and humiliation of slavery. It had taught him... made him stronger but also shown him why slavery was opposed beyond Patria.

His thoughts flowed like this, building rage towards the Great Houses whom had struck him down for daring to soar so high. He looked at his foe, moving with practiced speed and grace as he exchanges blows as he finds his foe willing to kill him readily. He makes a sacrifice, a blow to his ribs and a cracking sound... only for him to crush her temple with his weapon. There was a crunch as she was down. The haggerd Patrian bleeding and gripping his side now while he looks down at her and at the guests. Then he looks at the merchant.

"As I said, apologies for surviving. You'll have to make due with my suffering," Marius said as he manages to stand a bit more proudly, dropping his weapon so the guards wouldn't set upon him.

Gaja had opted to cease her singing but take up an energetic, martial tune on her gudok. It wasn't the best instrument for that - fife and drum are traditional for a reason - but it drew the audience into the pace and rhythm of the fight, so adding to its natural drama. When the Patrian so-obviously fed his opponent a free injuring hit in order to bring down her guard, it startled Gaja enough to actually throw off her rhythm: the first time all evening. She had been ignoring the more mundane slaves for the most part, but she now bent her bow to accompanying his movements, the arpeggios adding even more drama to his role in the blood sport.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:35, Tue 09 Oct 2018.

Claire returned to watching the music and the show with interest, but when it came time for the fight, looked away from the gladiator pits, emotional distress subroutines amounting to a lump of disgust in her circuits. People killing each other for a crowd's amusement? That was wrong. She could understand fighting to protect others (hadn't she been scheduled to star in a movie about that? She knew she'd done the soundtrack for one) but this...felt wrong. She didn't have any vocabulary to describe it.

The guests and most of their attendants were silent, mostly intent upon the upcoming culmination of this endeavor, the expenditure of a significant portion of their fortune in exchange at another lifetime. Except, of course the Dublinai merchant, who gave a tight lipped smile when Marius took his nasty wound, that turned into a grimace as Marius struck the fatal counter-blow.

The doddering old merchant prince whispered something to Gaja. He had to rise and move over to do it, though.

The guards were watching for treachery and theft, but at least the slaves of the place seemed interested in the contest... disapproving frowns came from the automaton and the fae, who's eyes seemed to find one another for a brief moment in their disapproval.

Still, Laiser rose to give a polite applause, and once he did, the entire household joined in. After all, the Lord of Bargains thought himself nothing if not a polite host. But the applause did not last long, and soon the guards and guests were clearing away everyone in the party from the center of the room.

The slave who had been assigned for the evening to Marius took one look at his wounds. "He needs medical attention, and if he moves much, he will bleed out."

Laiser shrugged. "Scholar, tend to his wounds. I want him to live a long life. I think I will use him to breed more slaves. Yes, he will have many children?" He smirked.

The Dublinai merchant hid a grimace from his face and said nothing.

"Also, the howler stays. She amuses me."

The merchant's face became even more ashen, and his hand raised to his heart, and his voice let out a short, wordless anguished cry. Laiser's eyes shone momentarily gold, and his smile was momentarily robbed of anything human.

"Be thankful. I could have insisted we use her for the ritual." He pointed at the Dublinai and the Visso Merchant, accusingly. "Neither of your gifts were sufficient, compared with the three magnificent treasures brought to me tonight. Taking something of value should square us."

Which was odd in the Dublinai Merchant's case, for he had not brought Marius. However, the wizened Patrian of the Great Houses who HAD brought him said nothing: Marius's fate did not matter to him, so long as he was out of Patria's way. He shrugged. "He's yours."

The remaining attendants and Laiser's servants, even the guards, left the building, remaining outside with the doors closed, other than the grim faced man who had issued the warning earlier. More men who looked strikingly similar to him, with the same dead eyed expression marched in.

From behind Laiser, a large door opened, and a grinning doctor brought out a young slave who had clearly been tortured, his body flayed with a whip and clearly expertly beaten with a club so that the young man could barely walk. His right hand had not been touched. The doctor, with patience and an angelic smile, helped the young man up onto the dais.

Laiser stood forth, and placed his palm upon the center of the scales. The lights immediately dimmed, and all the opulence of the room previously drained out of it as the room was filled with baleful shadows.

One by one, a

"Xerxes Tobin Flavius, Approach" The aged visso merchant looked over at Gaja, and simply mouthed a breathless "I'm sorry" before shuffling towards the scale. The already aged man seemed to have aged an additional 10 years, and it took some time for him to make his way across the large room and climb atop the chamber. The doctor assisted him as well.

Laiser began speaking in an ancient tongue, which reverberated throughout the room in countless languages. Each in the room hears his words in their own, native language, in perfect clarity.

The conversation lists.. contract terms? There are no magic words, no invocations to ancient forgotten gods. No, what is said is as cold and simple as any trader might declare. The guest promises to bring all he has brought in Tribute to Laiser, in exchange to be made young again, and promises not to mention the secrets of the ritual today. Is this agreed?

Xerxes said "I give it all up... including my rose." He said, remaining on the platform.

Then the slave is asked if he was willing to give up all his years, for nothing. You can see the defiance on his face, but then he looks back at the grinning doctor, who points back at the door to the room he just came from. There were worse things than death.

"I agree, to surrender all my years."

After a short delay, a thunderous voice called. "The Bargain is Made." After a few moments, the slave writhes and falls. By the time he strikes the floor, he is a mass of skin and bones. The merchant vanishes, replaced by a (very skinny, grey haired) man less than half his age. His clothes no longer fit properly, and he looks utterly shocked, dazed at the sudden physical transformation taken over him, but it's clear he's younger. After a few moments, he collapses. The doctor laughs as he catches the man, and one of the guards escort him outside.

This process repeats 4 more times. None of the slaves are as injured as the first, though their eyes were utterly devoid of hope.

Once the last guest is dragged, unconcious from the room, Laiser addresses all in the room.

"I must attend to my departing guests. Remain here until the guests depart the island. The guards will remain directly outside. Scholar, if there's any trouble, call me immediately. The guards are directly outside the doors."

He turned to Gaja, and Marius.

"I am not expecting trouble from either of you. Don't worry, I won't give you to the doctor, and I'm uninterested in your charms, but I haven't had a bard here in some time. Sleep. Or chat. It matters not. Enjoy the food and wine if you wish.

Just do not try and leave or damage my property. I will KNOW if these things happen, and I will be.. displeased."

With that, Laiser leaves.

OOC - I'm trying to move this along so that we can get to the game. This scene will continue in soft RP mode for your reactions. I'll start up a new thread tomorrow with the actual game portion.

I do not recommend you escape immediately. You'll have a chance later tonight. Marius needs a few hours of rest and some medical attention if he's not going to die from blood loss.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:38, Tue 09 Oct 2018.

Marius spits blood on the floor towards the elder Patrian and his Great Houses. Looking defiant at him as if to say even now he has won in his own foolish little way with being traded away from the homeland.

The events of the scale left him numb and a bit horrified considered what the price was for this apparent new youth. He felt less sympathetic for the Dulimbai merchant knowing he was willingly harming another for his 'second chance' at life. It soured the whole concept to Marius. He wanted this island to sink, drowning the terrible people here with it and taking that monstrous scale.

He winces in pain though, leaning back against a pillar while he waited for the other slaves to tend to him, ripping off the armor and tossing it aside. This place was a bad as Patria. It devoured the helpless to feed then needs of the powerful. Worse still was the creature Laiser, for Marius did not believe he was human anymore. No man could truck in this business he had created and keep his humanity.

Again he felt powerless before the cruelty of others. Something in him deep down screamed in outrage at how their world seemed to be rotting. How misery and suffering was becoming too much the norm. On the outside he remained calm and stoic aside from his little displays of defiance. He knew he would find some means to escape from here. He had to.

  Gaja had the restraint to let her disgust at the merchant's prediction remain implicit, barely even gritting her teeth. But when Laiser demanded he give up that hope, she couldn't repress a mocking sneer. And when his oath returned to the topic, her grip on the gudok tightened so much the neck split with an audible crack. It was only the second sound she'd made since the fight ended, the first having been an involuntary hiss at the swelling dark magic from the scale. She didn't watch the next four, preferring to withdraw to the solace of the furthest pile of sitting cushions. She examined one of the hookahs entirely longer than necessary, but didn't actually use it.

  "Scholar, is it?" she asked as soon as the sound of the closing door and receding footsteps had faded. She was still curled up in the corner. "Are you loyal, frightened, or just here for greed?" All told, she was taking the macabre scene in stride.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:30, Tue 09 Oct 2018.

Increase gave a polite bow to Lasier as he departed with the guests after the ritual. When spoken to he turned to Gaja, briefly, before turning towards Marius and moving towards him.

"I suppose a little of all three. I sold myself into slavery to learn more about the Isle and obedience allowed me to survive."

He knelt by the wounded gladiator and examined the wound. It was bleeding quite badly but it wasn't fatal. No arteries or organs had been damaged. While he examined a servant produced his medical tools, the now retired instruments of the illustrious doctor.

"Tho I have never seen the ritual before tonight and a part of me wished I hadn't."

He poured clean water over the wound and wiped it clean with a towel.

"If you wish to survive. This is going to burn. Then I would suggest you adopt caution and obedience."

He used forceps to dab the wound with a piece of cotton doused in neutral spirits.

"At least until your situation improves. This will be uncomfortable."

He then used a length of catgut suture to seal the wound.

"Hold this please."

He produced a clean piece of gauze and pressed against the freshly sutured wound. Assuming Marius listened to his instructions he wrapped the man's abdomen in bandages to secure the gauze.

"You will experience pain and discomfort for a few days, perhaps weeks. The bandage needs to be changed tomorrow but afterwards we will need to leave it uncovered."

The fury and disgust only deepen at the ritual, at the bargain being forced upon the slaves here. This was what she had fought to change, this was what had brought her here. It was what had brought her to this cage, too.

Marius winces at the treatment but can't complain. He wasn't one to turn down treatment considering the gamble paid. Plus it oddly had garnered value with their insane or possibly inhuman host.

"Rest assured, I would prefer to live. I didn't choose to be a gladiator," He notes some as he looks at the man and frowns some. "What sort of name is Scholar... wait, are you from Lom?"

He looks a little surprised at the idea of a Lommite being here for all places. They were the last sort of people to see beyond the Atheocracy out here. He only even connected it due to his needs as a general of Patria to stay aware of various threats to the Empire.

Increase returned his tools to the leather sleeve that held them and spoke as he rolled it back up and secured it.

"Yes I am. Scholar is my familial designation, you may refer to me by my given name Increase."

He rose, handing off the tools and soiled items to an attendant who dispensed of them somewhere beyond his sight.

"I would suggest you all get some rest. I have no idea what the future will hold for us but I've yet to see a servant of Lasier outlive their usefulness; fatigue will only work against you."

Claire managed to avoid rising from her chair and throwing herself at Lasier, but while her face remained stony, she knew that her new owner's actions were wrong, just like those murdering bastards who took down her best friend.

She looked over at the caged faerie, seeing the expression on the other's face, and her own lips tightened. Perhaps this was an ally?

To openly plot against Lasier, from across a room, seemed the height of foolishness. Still, her eyes would hold Claire's for a long moment, offering the other woman a slight, respectful nod.

Then her attention shifted to the Scholar. "You've been here some time, I gather. How often do these atrocities occur?"

Increase moved towards the faerie, partly to respond to their inquiry without having to speak any louder than necessary and partly so that he could finish his examinations.

"Regularly."

"Although though I would not be able to be put a timescale to them. These lavish parties require time to setup and execute; even with Lasier's powers and men. Then there are the clients themselves. People of requisite degree of wealth do not come forward often. I am sure Lasier has criers and envoys who spread word and recruit people to visit this isle."

A few noticed that the only thing that had been done was to remove the bag of bones from the room to the door to the north - where the captives had come from. The room was still filled with countless treasures and objects of art, as well, for for immediate need, a wide variety of foods, drinks and even a few light drugs.

You got the impression that you were welcome to the later, though stealing Laiser's "real treasures" might piss him off. That is, if his warning meant anything. The only guard appeared to be the scholar.

Marius sighs as he looks towards the fae woman with a bit of shame. He knew her, it was the one from Patria alright. The one who had railed against slavery. It was sad he'd only learned her outlook after becoming a slave, more so one meant for entertainment in brutal games.

"I will rest, but I'm still taking in being here. I like to learn and take in my surroundings."

  "Then take it in," Gaja suddenly declares in the sharpest tone of the evening.  She rises abruptly, holding a palm-sized arc of some sort of metal, curled at one edge where she had bent it back and forth to break it off the hookah's ash-guard.  "But I'm not staying long enough to, and you—" She looks directly at the captive fairy noble.  "—could make that happen if you were released."

  As she speaks, she crosses the room quickly back toward the pedestals.  When she nears the cage, she brings the shard of metal up to the keyhole, and suddenly its purpose is clear.

  "Increase," she calls out without looking away from the captive.  "You tried bravely to stop me, but I overpowered you.  If you need a few bruises and scrapes to make them believe the story, I'll give them to you before I go."  Then she jams her scrap into the lock and starts twisting.
 

---

I could make a dex roll if you want.  And who knows?  Maybe this cage isn't meant to have a pickable lock on it.  But it makes for a great transition to the afterparty scene if this works.

"I would not, if I were you," mentioned to Gaja as she went for the door. "You will get a nasty shock." She had tried for freedom, more than once. Others had tried for her freedom too, though only to end with her neck in a noose.

"What is it you think I would do, were I freed?" What mortals thought of fae was beyond her, in some ways. The beliefs ranged from place to place.

"It's up to you.  But my life will be expensive."

And then she tried it anyway.  It would be half a dozen attempts before her burnt hand and numb arm stopped her.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:43, Wed 10 Oct 2018.

He wasn't kidding about the shock. Pain runs through your hand and the lock glows. It seems to repel your lockpick as well.