Setting Sun [Flashback][Lariat]

by **Trios** on October 18th, 2011, 3:58 am

Trios wasn't sure when he lost consciousness, was it the elbow to the face? Or maybe the kicks that followed? Whatever it was the young man's body simply went limp as its consciousness faded away making each blow almost a numbing sensation than sharp stings of pain. This was the limit to the Isur's body as it was. As Trios breathed very softly face down in the grass small streams of blood stained the earth from almost every injury the man had earned today.

A bruised back possible a cracked rib or two, lacerations to the back and chest, broken nose, a deep puncture wound to the side and not to mention the numerous bruises and scrapes encompassing the man's body. It was a miracle or divine intervention that was keeping Trios breathing and alive.

As Trios faded in an out form consciousness like waking from a dream only drift back into slumber once again the man was aware of his thoughts. What had he ever done to deserve this? All his life the man learned that there was no higher being looking out for him, it was just himself and the crew he worked for. There was even that one time when the man purposely prayed for something, it was a simply request yet it resulted in events that made him think that prayers were useless when the recipients obviously didn't care.

Flashes of the world as the man drifted in and out showed Trios he was being hauled into a rather poorly constructed tent, the next instant Trios was once again flat on his face. The cool earth and cold wind felt good against the skin as the man laid on the ground slowly bleeding out. The man was grateful he could hear the wind and for a second he saw himself on the Empty Night as if the day hadn't occurred. Just a muscled blue man casually gazing out the oceans enjoying the wind as it filled the sails. Then just as the dream had started, it ended and all Trios knew was a endless black void of nothing as the night would slowly turn to day.

by **Lariat** on October 21st, 2011, 8:22 am

"Wake up you sack of flesh and bone" a woman's voice screeched, the sound quickly followed by a rough kick to the isur's midsection. It was bright outside, still yet early in the day making it all the more intense as light reached into the fragile enclosure to stab at the weary slave's eyes. Above him the she-zith towered over him, her eyes smoldering fires underneath the slight shadows that crossed her face. She growled again, launching another kick at the man's lower back, employing the talons on her feet this time to add more of a bite to the strike. That at least seemed to make her happy as a slight smile came to her face, and she slowly crouched down to bring her face closer to Trios, her breath hot on his face, and ripe with an assortment of not too pleasant smells. Her claws playfully clicked together as she intently watched the Isur, her mind whirling on things almost impossible to guess even by those who knew her well. What was clear though is that whatever she was about to say was making her happy, and that didn't mean good for the Isur. "You to the fields now, time to see good work off of your bones, and revel in the blood and sweat you shall shed for us" She cackled, her eyebrows arching upward on her all to human looking face in a way that suggested that she was very pleased.

She was standing up now, walking away from the Isur to crawl underneath a thick fur she kept on the other side of the small tent, disappearing under there with not a sound save for a few mixed giggles. Just outside in the blinding light someone stood, casting a thin shadow across the ground in front of the Isur, his breathing heavy enough to be heard in the tent, almost seeming to be amplified by the taut ragged canvas walls. For a few moments there would be heard nothing save for the breathing as whatever was outside waited for Trios to exit the tent. A sharp crack exploded into being as stinging pain resonated from Trios's ankle, his assailant apparently not patient enough to wait for the Isur to get himself outside, and without a second thought continued to drag the man through the dirt by tugging at only the handle of the whip. The leather binding of the whips end wrapped around Trios tightened up with ever pull, tearing at his flesh to leave raw skin behind. At last the pulling stopped and Trios was on the ground amongst other slaves in similar conditions, and before them all was the pitch black zith with red furred elbows, him standing just as tall and imposing as ever as he looked over the assemble slaves. "You will gather whatever he directs you to, that is what you are to do this day" the zith announced, his voice harsh, and raspy as he kept a forearm hovered above his eyes to block the infernal sun just enough to make it bearable. With his free hand pointed at a tall man with grizzled cheeks, salt and peppered hair,and his hands bearing ropes tightly noted about his hands. With that the group moved off, following shortly behind the lead slave all while being watched by a few ziths, all ready to leap into action on a moments notice to see if any of the new slaves would try anything stupid.

For a few bells they walked out across the grass quietly, the slave that had been leading the expedition now just walking a few paces in front of Trios as the man tended to stop everyone and a while to scan at the grasses carefully. Now he stopped again, and almost to quickly in a way that might have tripped up the Isur had he not been paying attention. His eyes seemed to be focused dark gold yellow flowers that sat on the ground clustered up. With a careful hand he picked up a flower, bringing it slowly under his nose to sniff at before turning his head slightly towards the Isur and motioning to him. "You see this, dig just under the flowers till you can get at the root" he muttered, standing up then, and looking briefly around before walking off in another direction, his eyes always scanning the ground.

by **Trios** on October 21st, 2011, 9:14 pm

It wasn't the first kick that made the Isur, nor was it the second kick but rather the rancid breath of the she-Zith that made the Isur stirr from his comatose like slumber. It was like the woman beast had only dinned on rotting flesh mixed with rotten vegetation. Trios had shut his mouth straining to want to curse the creature, saying he shed enough blood and sweat for a week and that she could hold her head under the water till she stopped moving. But it was apparent that a quick death wasn't the type of thing these people gave out, but rather a more slow antagonising death.

So the young man turned his head to return a cold and emotionless gaze back at the woman. He'd damn himself if he'd show her any sort of emotion or distain at her words, he'd simply reply with as much emotional output as a rock. Trios's emerald eyes watched the woman hide under her furs, she had appeared to have as much brains as that dead blanket. Ivak's sweaty cage he'd only do what she wanted unless she forced him to do so thought the Isur, in fact the man was quite contempt to lay on the floor till they died of old age if need be, or until his body had healed...either or.

Even hearing the deep breaths behind didn't seem to effect the stubborn Trios as he closed his eyes in arrogant defiance, part due to his injuries and other being that he owed these beings nothing save for the slow death that Trios wanted to reap on them. However fate was a cruel mistress on her time of the month as a there was a sharp pain on his ankle before a rather abrupt pull tearing skin and the Isur from their resting places.

Fine, he'd move but that didn't mean anything. Pushing himself to his feet Trios would stand a bit weakly on his feet, his wounds from the previous day still cried out whenever he moved. It made the Isur wince slightly at every major movement. A quick glance around the encampment almost screamed to Trios not to do anything stupid as there were many eyes to respond and most likely could cause such physical harm to the body that Trios had a sting of fear ways they could hurt him further.

But the gathering, whatever it was didn't seem to bad, it would give him a chance to recover and think. Even as Trios hobbled behind the leader of the "slaves" as the man so called it, Trios mind was entrenched with thought. So much so that when the tall human had stopped, Trios had almost simply walked into the man as if he wasn't there.

"Heh....bring Zith the flowers? I donno human it'd take a lot more than that to pretty em up" Growled the Isur casually to himself seizing the opportunity to mock his captures to a source that looked like it wouldn't use it's talons to tear the Isur a new back. Plus the man had no idea what the plant actually was or its particular use, Trios was sure that the Zith wanted these for a use other than aesthetics.

Kneeling painfully on the plains Trios used his blackened left arm as a make shift till to split the earth around the plant the human had indicated. His gemstone like hand dug through the dirt like it was nothing before the man simply lifted the plant plus a good deal of attached earth for the ground. If this was slave labour Trios was going to count himself lucky and on shore leave. Trios as long as he could remember could recall being worked to the bone every day since being given to the crew and the ship Empty Night. But then again, Trios had never been made to work when his body was injured to a condition close to its breaking point.

Struggling to stand Trios held the plant aloft in his hand looking around as to what in gods names to do with the forsaken plant. "Now what? Or shall I just hold onto it?" Trios said his tone still weak from his injuries but was being strained to show as if nothing was wrong.

by **Lariat** on October 30th, 2011, 4:26 am

The aging man ignored Trios's jab at the with, simply shaking his head as he kept his eyes on the grass looking for the plants he knew would help them the most on the grass. He held no love for the with, but being the only slave to last this long among this particular group, his years among the beast had come with much knowledge on how to help survive. There was always the grumbling from the new 'recruits', but soon enough they would be properly tamed, or dead. He'd seen it all the time before, and had witnessed all of his friends die, it was the way of things as a slave for these creatures. As he crouched down Trios spoke, and craning his head to the side his eyes settled on the Isur with a resigned look. "Keep a hold of it, and see if you can't get more of that root out, they usually run pretty deep" he replied, his eyes going back to the ground in front of him as he scrabbled at the dirt before him collecting leaves in his palm before stashing them in the cloth pouch tied to his waist. Standing up and dusting at his knees he turned to keep his eyes on their zith captors that hovered nearby, he slowly started walking towards the Isur to see how he was doing with the root collecting.