[Flashback] Deepest Darkness [Closed]

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

50st Winter 508AV

Disclaimer: This thread will include the following elements, rape, torture and grotesque violence. If any of this offends you please do not read this thread any further. I implore you to use your best judgment in deciding if you do or do not want to read this thread.

I do not write this warning lightly. I only write this to warn any readers and to tell you to use YOUR OWN judgment on if you want to continue or not. A good place for me to start is by saying 18+ only.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

It was cold. Even with his eyes closed he could feel just how cold it was out here. Even the iron bars of his cage were agonizingly cold against his bare skin. It was dark and the overall feeling around the camp was slightly different than usual. Something was going to happen. He had been here and seen and felt all the usual days and nights, so like a caged animal he always knew when something odd may happen. The slavers around the camp were acting stranger than usual for some reason. A reason he couldn’t pin down. He shifted some and one of his many wounds cracked open some breaking some of the scabs on his back. He could feel the blood run down his back some as he leaned against the cold unforgiving iron bars. His body shivered under the thin sheet they gave him, it was really more of a joke really especially during the winter times.

But was he shivering just from the cold? He didn’t remember the night before but judging by the wounds he had likely fought them when they tried to poison him and use one of their antidotes on him. His hands were shaking but not from shivering. His vision was tunneled and his body ached horribly. He could smell the desperation in the air. But oppressive hopelessness beat back the desperation into the human heart. At the very least he still had his morals. Even throughout all of this he still had his internal strength and he knew there was absolutely no way they could strip that away from him. He coughed hard and almost felt like he would cough up blood because his throat was so dry. He didn’t make much noise; because he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. None here wanted to turn attention to themselves.

His eyes scanned the snow covered ground and he saw the only really semi-permanent building here which was a rather large tent that functioned as everything for the men. It was a barracks, a kitchen and sometimes a torture chamber as well when the men wanted a spectacle. But the real tent that all feared was another one that was beside it. That was where the twisted doctor lived. Even after all this time Seven wasn’t sure what the real purpose of all this was. Why he was chosen to live. But was he really chosen by these men or was it just fate that he continued to live…But in a way this wasn’t living. He got fed maybe once and many times he ended up vomiting it back up when they poisoned him then tried random remedies to prevent his death.

They called him Seven, because he was the seventh person they had captured. Eight had been taken from him a few months ago along with Nine….Since then he had lost hope that he was ever going to get out of here alive. He would rather be dead in a way. There was a certain appeal to no longer living, no longer being able to suffer. He didn’t want to feel the cold sting of the winters on his body and the harsh crack of the whip on his back. He didn’t want to be their plaything any longer. He didn’t want the multitude of people in cages around the camp to be their playthings anymore.

One and Two died in the ring when they were put up against each other and then it was decided that One was no longer needed so they killed him too. The same ring he had been in many times but always lost, but they didn’t let his combatant kill him for some reason or another. But the ring they formed wasn’t so kind to others. It was really used to sometimes train the men to beat up and kill the slaves. Almost like a right of passage of some kind among the slavers. Sometimes they beat the slave senseless, but there were times when it got out of hand he had seen it many times.

Three had been tortured almost to death then left tied to a large pole in the middle of the camp to let the crows have him. He died slowly but even at the end of his life he still found the strength to scream while he was eaten alive by animals. The screams were muffled and barely audible. But anyone who had suffered in silence knew. Silent suffering was common here, but some still whimpered and silently cried when there weren’t any slavers around prodding the people like caged animals. But for now the skeleton of three still remained crumbled on the ground and covered in snow now. Winter was pleasant only because Three’s body didn’t cast horrible smells about the camp…not like there weren’t plenty of them around right now anyway. But the cold seemed to suppress it mostly.

Four had been killed in some twisted sex fueled rage. Seven knew from the sounds and the wounds when they carried her away. The bleeding from his wrists and ankles that they had strapped her to one of the beds and taken turns violating her. But the injury that killed her on her neck likely came from one of the men pressing a dagger to her throat a little too hard. And then accidentally slipped during the act and cut her a little too deep. There was nothing they could do for her as she bled out. But they carried her like a slaughtered animal from the tent away from the camp and dumped her body in the wilderness. There was no dignity here in the camp for anyone except the slavers. They were given little to cover themselves with, and if you were lucky you got a cover during winter and a person to share the cage with.

Five had shared the cage with him before, until they beat him relentlessly and he died. He still didn’t know why but Seven still remembered the way he looked laying in the cage blood coming from his mouth as he continued to cough. His eyes were tinted a deep crimson red as Five then bashed his own head against the cage to end his life. Usually the slavers applied a sedative to people who were misbehaving. But they instead gathered around the cage to goad the man on. Five eventually succeeded and slumped against the cage lifeless. It seemed that they were done with Five. His usefulness was over to them. Seven wondered when his usefulness would be over. Because he knew when they finally decided that his life was forfeit…but it already was.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

Six was just a small girl, very young he assumed Five was likely her father. They tortured the little girl sometimes just to hear her cry. Finally they got bored with her and sold her to a harem. It was more profitable for them that way because she was just a hassle ever since Five died. Before now Seven wondered what would make a man kill himself and leave his daughter behind to suffer…But he understood more than most now. He knew that the man just wanted to escape and saw death the only way out. And in a way it was still the only way from this camp. Seven knew he would’ve given anything to let Eight and Nine escape alive. But they were sold just like Six had been. He didn’t know where they were now but he hoped it was better than this. He thought he heard they had been sold to Sunberth…or was it Ravok?

He was Seven, he was the longest living survivor here in the camp. The slavers seemed to like to use him like their own attraction paying him special attention every now and then. And something inside him told him this was going to be another one of these days. He hoped he was wrong, but usually he wasn’t. And he knew that nothing was going to stop these men from doing what they wanted to do. They had the control here and no matter what he thought they could do whatever they wanted to whomever they wanted whenever they wanted. He felt sick to his stomach likely because he hadn’t kept food down in days. He was dizzy and light headed it was nights like this that he swore he could feel Dira gently try and lead him away. He swore he had felt her several times almost gently take his soul onward.

He closed his eyes and tried to bring his mind clear of this place…but he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. Everything was barraging his body; from the horrible cold to the burning and throbbing of his own wounds. Maybe he could sleep some, and maybe he would die in his sleep cold and alone. His mind was still with Eight and Nine. He wanted to know if they were ok…and he missed them dearly but now that they were away he had hope that things could be better. He shivered as the cold nipped through the blanket and settled in his bones. But he knew just like every other morning he would wake even though he didn’t wish to. Even though he wanted his lifeless body to be one of the many lifeless bodies that littered the piles. In his mind he was dead, and had been dead for a very long time now.

Footsteps broke through the sanctity of his mind…what little sanctity there was. They were walking right toward him. He knew that they were coming for him. He knew that the night now held even more things in store for him. He hard them talk to each other as they came over and opened his cage.

“Come on now we got something special in store for you.” The two walked up to the cage and opened it.

Seven didn’t move at first but when one of the men came up behind him and kicked him between the bars landing him on his face before the other man. Who then grabbed him and shackled his arms and legs. Fighting never really got him anything here, except a kick in the back. His body screamed in pain from the rather fresh whip wounds getting kicked harshly. The wounds broke open and poured fresh blood on his back. The two men prodded him along as he shuffled his legs to move. He couldn’t really walk because of the length of the chains. His arms were behind his back and his head was hung low looking at the ground. Making himself look humble was a good way to try and avoid being beaten without a reason.

He was brought into the side torture tent and he immediately knew the smell. The doctor was concocting up things again the smell was different than anything before now. He couldn’t place a finger on what it was but it smelt…odd. He was pushed into a chair and restrained by large leather straps on his arms legs and chest. He had been in this place a million times before now; and he knew in his head what came next. The two men stayed only to make sure everything went to plan, and the doctor had some elaborate philtering tower set up. He saw that there were what seemed like six or seven elaborate stages and additives. He didn’t know what the man could be making but whatever it was it had taken the man a very long time to produce and a ton of careful calculations as well. He had notebooks scattered about another table as he then pulled a small vial with no more than a simple sip of liquid in it. But Seven knew that clear liquid had to be a horrible poison. It’s crystalline nature couldn’t fool him, he knew it was likely something horrible.

The doctor came over and looked Seven over. “Here we are again Seven.” He said as he walked over holding the small vial in his left hand. He then walked right in front of Seven and gripped his face forcing his jaw open. Seven didn’t fight any more, he knew there was nothing that he could do about it. If he resisted they would beat him relentlessly until he couldn’t fight at all. And then the effects would be a hundred times worse than if he took it when he was aware and strong. So he could fight the symptoms better.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

He felt the liquid ease its way down his throat. It didn’t burn but at the same time he knew something was very wrong with it. The way it just easily absorbed into his body was surreal; this also meant that it would be active in his system faster. That was the real problem he now faced. Unlike the many mixtures before now it seemed to just slither its way into his body quickly. He swallowed hard knowing it was only a matter of time before it all started again. The doctor watched eagerly as he looked for the effects of the liquid he had concocted. A minute passed and it began to settle in…The areas where the leather bindings were on his body began to burn…actually almost anywhere where anything was touching his body began to slowly get a slight burning sensation.

It started small only at where there was a good mount of pressure on his skin; like the leather bindings and the shackles. The feeling was just a warm sensation at first but then it grew to be far more painful. It was pleasant when it started, mostly because he was so cold from being outside in the snow and frost. But eventually it felt like his skin was just boiling. Any contact to his skin brought him extreme amounts of pain burning…He almost felt like he was burning alive but his skin was still fine. It looked like it had when he came here. Even the skin on his back against the chair burned causing him to want to contort, but he knew if he did this it would only make things better. He clenched his fists and breathed rapidly trying to make the pain go away…but it didn’t. It only spread instead throughout his body engulfing him in his own little special hell of sorts. He would give anything to be outside in his cage again. Maybe the cold would sooth him?

“Ah I see it has started.” The doctor said as he saw Seven begin to cringe and clench his fists.

The doctor observed and noted the skin hadn’t changed color at all but the effects were definitely what he thought they would be. He poked Seven in the arm and then watched the man’s muscles tense as his body shook from the pain wreaking havoc on his body. The doctor found this fascinating as he then nodded and spoke. “I’ll work on an antidote now...” The two slavers looked at each other and decided to take the opportunity as it was laid out before them. They moved to release him and the doctor spoke again. “If you kill him I will test this on you instead.” He warned as the men laughed and carried Seven to the Barracks.

He knew what this meant, but he did get a small reprieve from the burning when he was outside. The cool air soothed him some. Why did he feel so hot? He felt like his skin was burning off, like it would never stop. The shackles were the worst. When they moved any they shot extreme amounts of pain through his body. The bottoms of his feet were causing him endless amounts of pain just from walking alone. He felt extremely ill but that wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him. He was in a daze now everything was starting to feel foreign but the pain…the pain felt real. The burning…why the burning? He was half walking half carried to the barracks where he knew what was waiting for him…it was the same every single time. They would take the newest recruit and let this recruit beat him. It helped dehumanize the slaves…

He felt his shackles were chained to a large wooden pole in the tent. He had tried to struggle many times to get free. But there was never any hope of getting free from this. There were too many people and even if he could get off the pole they would still strike him down. He never stood a chance. In the tent there were around three or so slavers. One of them Seven had never seen before. He was unfamiliar to him meaning he knew exactly who was going to be administering his punishment today. There was a comfort in knowing small things like that. Not much but some. There was always a comfort in knowing where your beating was going to come from. Normally he didn’t have that nicety; it was just whomever decided to take their wrath out on him that day. But for now this man held Seven’s body in his hands.

He didn’t look too different from any of the other slavers. No he was of normal height about five foot ten or so. He had short brown hair that was cut almost to the scalp. His features were rough and his skin was slightly tanned. He didn’t look extraordinarily strong but sometimes looks were deceiving Seven had learned this a very long time ago. He kept his head down looking at his feet because he knew that he couldn’t help anything that was about to happen to him. Pleading would get him nowhere. He just wanted this to be over so he could go back to his cage again. There was nothing he could do. Hopelessness had set in a long time ago…

“Go ahead show this slave who is boss.”

And like that a fist connected with his chest sending a wave of pain through his body. But he didn’t scream at all. He wouldn’t give this man the pleasure of hearing him scream. The pleasure of knowing the level of pain that coursed through his body like a venom. He shuttered causing even more pain to cascade through his body again and again. He tried to bring himself to a center of some kind and another punch connected with his chest. Each hit felt hundreds of times harder than it actually was. His body sensitive to almost everything now. His brain was pleading for it to stop… JUST STOP THE PAIN PLEASE PLEASE STOP THE PAIN. But nothing stopped, the man hit him again and again, he was nothing but a meat punching bag for this man.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

STOP BY THE GODS PLEASE STOP!!! But he didn’t voice this…for he knew it would only make the man hit him harder. And likely earn him another trip here so they could enjoy him begging…he wouldn’t beg. He knew that got him nowhere. Another hit signaled an almost concussive amount of pain through his form. His mouth felt fuzzy and he then emptied the contents of his stomach on the dirt floor. He coughed but didn’t whimper, showing weakness never got you anywhere… He knew they would show no mercy. The men laughed and the initiate did as well knowing now that he was causing a decent amount of pain to Seven.

Seven was convinced that there was no mercy in this life. Not for him not here. He knew one day he was going to die here. Pass on completely and he looked forward to that day. He wanted death to find him and finally claim this lost soul. He was a shell of a man having had everything stripped from him. He didn’t own his own body, he owned nothing. He had not even a moment of sanctity here at any time. Nothing belonged to him. Another hit to the chest this one far harder than the others. An audible crack was issued as the men cheered the initiate on.

“That’s it you got it!”

Another hit to the other side of his chest and another audible crack as Seven withered in pain…Maybe this would be the end? JUST KILL ME, MERCY MERCY!!!!!!! but no mercy came as the man’s fist connected again with Seven’s body. His mouth hung open and with every hit an audible moan was issued. It was all he could do to keep himself from just screaming in pain. But instead he let his mind do the screaming for him…knowing that if he screamed he would likely only make conditions worse. He suffered in silence and at the spectacle of these men. He wasn’t a coward; he wouldn’t grovel for these men in any capacity…which he was sure they wanted. It gave them power to have someone plead to them. But he would do no such thing for anyone.

His tolerance for pain was reaching its final end now…he was beginning to get tunnel vision from the agony. He lifted his head and then realized that there was going to be more than one simple act of brutality going on tonight. He could hardly register what was about to happen, but he heard her…her voice rang out among the usual male ones. He looked and he saw her long brunette hair spread out on a bunk they were chaining her to. He could hear the metallic clanking of the chains as she struggled. But in response they merely beat her until she stopped struggling enough for them to enjoy restraining her. She made muffled noises at first…but they beat it out of her eventually. He could see her…and he kew what was coming. For a moment she made eye contact with him.

As if she was pleading with him, asking him if there was anything he could do for her. There was one thing…it would cost him his body. He could see the tears in her eyes as they were beginning to gloss over…pleading for him to make it stop. Pleading if there was anything he could do for him to do it now…she didn’t want this…she didn’t as for this. None ever asked for this. He summoned up the strength and spoke hardly as the men actually almost stopped what they were doing to hear him out.

“What was that Seven?” One of the slavers said coming a little closer to hear him out.

“Coward…” He said barely audible above a whisper.

“COWARD?” The man repeated obviously offended but this also proved to be a new sense of entertainment for him.

The other slavers finished chaining the woman to the bed and then well directed attention elsewhere, to Seven. Like he had anticipated they would. This was going well for him and by the look the woman shot him…he knew that she was thankful to have a few more seconds of her dignity. But she was also surprised; none ever did anything for her here. And this man was risking his life and body for hers. She didn’t know what to do but she gave him a silent thanks. Knowing that they would eventually come back to her, but maybe if they took out their rage on him they would be easier on her? She hoped that was the cause.

The man laughed and then punched him in the dead center of the chest as hard as he could manage, hearing bones break. But this didn’t stop him as he then brought his wrath to Seven’s face and skull. Seven tasted blood knowing well that this was likely far from over. There was no mercy here, not for anyone. His body was becoming lax as it was quitting him. Bringing the pain to a very pinpoint all over his body. He let out an audible sound of pain from his mouth and the slaver only beat him harder punching his sides and his body wherever he could; which was really anywhere since he couldn’t stop the man. He gave in finally to the pain and let it swallow his mind whole…It swirled and blew his emotions around like the wind.

When it seemed like the man had finally blew off his steam Seven muttered again. The man turned around again quickly and spoke. “What was that you filth?”

Seven laughed and coughed up blood that landed on his body. The man came closer and brought a fist across Seven’s face again. His body was almost over its threshold of pain almost over the hill where he would no longer be able to help this woman. He would have to pace himself or wait for the pain to subside…He dug deep as he then spoke again to the man so this time he could hear him.

“Still…..a coward.” He coughed again and his body shook…it couldn’t take much more of this…

The slaver didn’t say anything and instead just delivered hit after hit to Seven’s chest until he got bored with this man. How dare he talk to him that way? What did this man know of cowardice? But Seven knew that the man wouldn’t hit him this hard unless he was right about him being a coward. No, he knew the slaver wouldn’t beat him like this unless he was right. Unless he had really offended him, unless the man knew he was a coward deep down inside. The initiate might also be doing this to prove that he wouldn’t put up with lip from a slave. Either way Seven’s body bore the punishment of this man’s insecurity.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

His vision began to fade but even in blackness you can hear…your body goes in and out. He heard the woman’s whimpers for help. He got random glimpses of the men violating her, and from what he saw it didn’t stop with one person. He went in and out but he was semi-conscious the entire time. He was aware, and the sounds pierced to his very soul. He wanted it to stop but he knew that it wouldn’t. He even remembered her eyes…how empty they were. How lifeless she seemed as they smacked her around forcing themselves inside her. Seven made eye contact with her as the tears stopped and she just accepted that this was going to be her fate. A sexual plaything for others, her body wasn’t her own anymore. Not while these men owned her. The act was completely devoid of emotion for her, because this was usually an act reserved for love…But now it was being used in war. To show her where her place was…which was wherever they wanted her. Eventually Seven felt hands on his face and his eyes opened some to see the doctor again.

“Good that’s right Seven here is the medicine.” The liquid was poured into his mouth.

He didn’t get a good taste of it because of the excess amount of blood that had dried all along the inside of his mouth numbing his taste buds. His shoulders ached from supporting his large body. And his skin still stung, and the new wounds to his ribs and chest weren’t helping matters. He was in a pain induced daze really. Maybe now the pain would stop? He couldn’t tell…But he remembered swallowing a putrid mixture of antidote and blood which upset his stomach. But he knew that he had to keep the medicine down for it to help him…well he was told it was medicine. He had no real way of knowing.

“Alright, take them back to the cages…yes her too once you are finished with her.” The doctor said as he then left the barracks and headed back to his tent.

Moments later he heard them freeing the woman and he felt them free him. His body was tremoring and shaking from the pain. Or was it the antidote he was administered? He was betting on the answer being a mixture of the two. In fact he was sure it was. But he was free for now and it was done. He could hardly see but he placed one foot in front of the other and then felt them throw him into his cage. He shook in pain as he tried to settle himself in a corner, on the ground…really anywhere so he could just be left alone. But he felt something hit him hard and he moaned as it did. But whatever had hit him it made noise too. He couldn’t muster the strength to open his eyes to see though. So he remained as hands gently touched him…

“Thank you.” A docile voice said as he was gently picked up and leaned against the form of another person. She smelled like sex…and he knew who she was. The woman from only a few moments ago. “I’m sorry…so sorry.” She said as she settled him against her and put the one somewhat thin cotton sheet over them trying to get him warm. “I’ll help you…can I help you?”

Seven merely exhaled and shook his head gently indicating that he was past help. He only wanted to sleep now. Which was going to be much easier now that he could share warmth with this woman. It helped chase away the spirit crushing cold that threatened to break his body and soul. And suffering together was a whole lot better than suffering alone. Seven took shallow breaths to try and avoid irritating his ribs since he knew they were likely fractured and some of them broken. He knew that it would take time to heal…and well the burning sensation he had wasn’t getting any better, but he knew it was a trick as well. He knew it was cold, and that he had to keep himself warm. But his body was in conflict with this.

He had trouble sleeping because of the pain and sickness he felt. But he had grown used to the feeling and eventually he did sleep. Although it wasn’t for very long because he woke and then noticed his body had reacted horribly to the ‘medicine’. He looked down and his body was covered with small blisters. Some of them were filled with blood but all of them were very uncomfortable. But he didn’t move because the pain he felt now had given way to numbness…The woman was still there behind him, holding him close for warmth. She still smelt of that violating sex…but he didn’t mind because she was keeping him warm.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

He faded away again to sleep and woke only a few hours later after nightfall. He only woke because he heard the cage door open. A pair of hands gripped him and threw him into the snow he didn’t fight…How could he? The impact sent a new wave of pain through his body as his chest impacted the ground. He moaned some and felt some of the blisters burst and blood run down his body. He was a mess to behold. They then shackled up the woman and kicked Seven in the side.

“Get up you whelp.” The voice was familiar…the man from before. The one he had called a coward.

He got to his feet slowly as the pain shot through him. He was led into the barracks again and this time there were more people than before…Was there to be another show? What this time? His mind reached all kinds of conclusions but none of them could lead him to what was actually going to happen. He didn’t think like them, he didn’t act like them. And as such he was at a very distinct disadvantage.

“Now you, take her.” One of the men said as he pushed the woman down on the floor.

Seven was stunned…did they mean what he thought they meant. Them pushing the woman to the ground helped confirm this but what made them think he would violate this woman like they wanted? He did have morals and he wouldn’t stand for this. He wouldn’t do this…

“If you don’t we will.” He said challenging Seven.

He remembered how they raped her before. But could he bring himself to do the same to her? He looked into her eyes and again he saw her plead, but this time she was asking to avoid them…if him raping her would avoid them violating her…she was willing to put on a show. But Seven was still conflicted. But he knew him taking advantage of her was better than all of them violating her. He killed his emotion there and knew he couldn’t invest anything in this act. Even though it went against everything he believed in and everything he thought. There was no love in this, it was merely survival at this point, the most painless way out of this situation the woman and he found themselves in. He got on the ground and gently laid himself on the woman, trying to warm her up some before he just thrust into her body.

This was supposed to be the most personal act ever between a man and woman, and he was just supposed to do it on command with whomever he was told to now. He looked into her eyes and saw…nothing. She had separated herself from the act again. And below his voice he managed a dull fading whisper. “I’m sorry…” But that didn’t matter, he was going to violate her anyway. In order to bring her away from another more horrible fate. It was sickening to him, but he knew he couldn’t think about it…he knew if he did he would destroy himself from the inside. He had to just shove it away, or else he wouldn’t be able to function. So he raped her, despite everything he was and believed anyone could be made to do anything given the circumstances. And this showed him the truth of what he was here…he was nothing…

He stood for nothing and no matter what he believed he could no longer believe anything. None would grace him here. No they would throw him to the ground and beat him. And he knew now that he wasn’t anything. He was just something that lived. And hardly so. He eventually finished the act and the slavers pulled him back again and chained him to a pole…

“You did it all wrong.” The slaver said as he disrobed himself and got on the floor. The woman struggled to get away but the man pinned her to the ground and beat her with his free hand some to settle her down.

“You know the way I like it!”He screamed at her while he brought his fist across her face. Pain had a way of calming people down and bringing slaves to the reality that nothing belonged to them anymore.

He then raped her the way he thought it should be done. Ironic was there a right way to rape a helpless woman. Did it really matter how it was done? Seven thought not but then again he thought all kinds of things were true that weren’t. The man eventually finished with her and then chained her wrists to a bed with her top half resting on the bed and her knees on the ground. He stood and nodded.

“That’s how you do it…but I think you need a few more demonstrations.”And like that it was all happening again. The men took turns one by one just like before. Why did he think this would be any different than before? Why did he think that by raping her first it would make any kind of difference at all.

“Coward…your still a coward.” Seven said as he smiled.

His response to which was a swift hit to Seven’s ribs. The pain was astounding and caused him to black out almost immediately. But not before he met the woman’s empty eyes again. He knew this was how he was going to have to learn to live here…nothing was his and he had to learn to detach even his emotions from his body.

[Gossamer]

. Character: Serrif Experience: +5 Observation Lore: Being Held Captive For Extended Periods of Time. Witnessing Death , Torture, and Rape. Surviving Extensive Wounds Given Via Beatings. Surviving Extensive Torture. Surviving Extensive Poisoning. Being Incredibly Cold For Long Periods Of Time. Being Beaten Repeatedly. Committing Rape. Being Lied Too. Being Coerced. Additional Note: If I could give you courage or fortitude experience I would. As it is, this is a thread for lores really. There was not much action you could do since Serrif resisted fighting in all his posts for obvious reasons. I also think this thread ended too soon because it doesn’t show how Serrif escaped nor how he got captured and where he was from, that sort of circumstance. This was like a slice of his life from his days a slave, but I wished to read how he'd gotten captured, who these people were, and how he'd gotten free. .