[The Slave Market] The Price of Freedom (Ifran)

[Surei]

59th of Summer, 512 AV, Early Morning Leaning against the wall of the Auction House building, Surei enjoyed the relatively calm atmosphere of the market at this time of day. The building provided shelter from the sun for a few hours, before sunlight reached him in a direct beam that warranted a change in location, inside usually. Work had started early for Surei this morning. Noma had to meet a man he’d been really vague about and frankly, this time, the Dhani couldn’t care less about his identity. Oh, the Eypharian had pulled a good one on him. He could’ve chosen any date to arrange his shady meeting and it happened to be on auction day, the day where they’d probably make their most profitable deal of the season. Surei wasn’t too keen on coincidences, and this one sure wasn’t. Two times, in little over a month! The first time around didn't exactly go well, and yet Noma had insisted. For what purpose? The Dhani couldn’t tell at this point. What he could tell, however, is that if a buyer came up to him and expressed an interest in his most recent capture, Surei would have to handle it like a professional. It could happen any minute now. Kuya had been instructed to direct buyers to him for the day. He’d known Surei for several years, a while before the Dhani himself was even aware of his presence. Now that they worked together to some extent, Surei knew to appreciate the man’s discrete attitude and flawless work ethic, as far as ethics could go ‘round here. The Dhani walked over to the separate cage Noma had requested the day before, the one that held the promise of another season in relative abundance, that the group had come to enjoy over years of well-deserved success. Past the iron bars, a young girl, just out of her teens stared back when he glanced in her direction. Her dark hair was kept at shoulder length, dirtied out of its original color. It provided a vivid contrast with her brand new, yet simple, clothes. A distinctive leather collar revealed her Kelvic nature to the attentive buyer, although it was the kind of information readily available inside the House. She started trembling when the Dhani’s tongue quickly swiped his lips, which didn’t fail to bring a faint smile on his face. OOCThe rented cage and new clothes are paid from Noma's pocket. Surei bought the slave collar himself (-5 GM) a while ago.

[Ifran]

Even here the people made way for nobility. Ifran was dressed in the most royal of blues, the which brought out the natural golden limn of his skin. Trimmed in black and gold, he balanced between an obscenity of opulence and an artistic elegance. The tension was bound to call attention to him, and that was, of course, the point. He had spoken of the importance of tension to his new protégée already, hence she was swathed from head to foot in white linen, with a surcoat of rich brown silk that shimmered with the finest thread-of-gold. Face and hair, hands and feet, all were covered. Only her eyes, barely outlined in kohl, showed. "You must walk the knife's edge between wily wanton and virgin votaress;" he had told her, "for therein lies the tension that will set you apart and bring people into your orbit. The balancing act will teach you to be resourceful and cunning." The clothes showed a slender waist. Her six arms were graceful and precise. She was a highborn apprentice in the art of semhu, walking respectfully a step behind and to the right of her master, who was also her cousin. Strange times led to strange things. They had been perusing the goods, both their clothes and their probable purchases covered by the vast wealth of their Noble House. Esteemed Grandfather would not have his scions treated to less than the best. "Pardon me," he said to someone immediately overawed both by Ifran's presence and by the fact that he was speaking so courteously, so warmly to him. "Could you direct us to the owner of Pen Number Four?"

[Surei]

The market wasn’t used to receiving such high profile visitors. The duo of richly dressed Eypharians attracted the wide-eyed looks from some, as well as many resentful ones. The man didn’t seem to notice, or it just didn't affect him. Either way, they were probably safer than anyone around them in the context of this particular city. Anger nobility and nobility will make you regret your very existence, that was one of the few universal truths of Ahnatep. What did that Eypharian’s presence implied, though, Surei desired to know. There was no definite answer yet, and so he watched. Upper class could probably put a name on them, but they weren’t too fond of particular part of town, nobility even less. Something to do with the smell it seemed, or with the fact that few of them would ever want to be associated with the thugs and other shady individuals that characterized the slave market. Shortly after his own visit to “Pen Number Four”, where their Kelvic captive rested, the man asked for him. Surei closed in as soon as he noticed the interest of the man, hovering near Kuya until he pointed in his direction, at a reasonable distance behind Ifran. That was his cue. He moved forward and armed himself with his most charming smile, admittedly more wicked than genuine.

[Ifran]

Surely the girl's veil was perfumed, and her escort made a manly show of not being affected by the malodorous lot. The higher class of slavers carried a higher class of slaves, and they were generally better kept. Squalor was not the sort of cruelty often employed by Eypharians, who were prone to worship beauty as much as anything else. And if the quality of slave was in general diminished hereabouts, well, sometimes one could find a diamond in the rough. Ifran turned to follow the man's indication, and remained pleasantly impassive as he watched the salesman walk up, girding his loins for obsequy and whatever else might send gold-edged currency tumbling into a greedy palm. "Good day," he said, not bothering with names. "We are interested in looking into Pen Number Four."

[Surei]

“Sso much for the name, issn’t it?” The slaver toned his smile down to a level he deemed acceptable, trying to appear as neutral and controlled as possible. The “pen” itself was hardly worthy of its name, given it could’ve also been a cage and no one would notice the difference. There were, however, worse offenders to common sense here and around. Surei led his client to the cage , kept as cool as the city could allow in the shadows cast by a collection of colorful awnings that spawned most of the market grounds. The Dhani lead his noble client back to the numbered cage. Even if he walked comfortably among the crowd of the slave business, this whole affair was far off his domain of expertise. All he could hope is for a quick resolution; profit taking the rear line to mild anxiety. “You’re in luck. What you have before you iss probably one of the lesss dangerous sspecimenss of Kelvic you’ll ever ssee.” Surei fixed his gaze on Ifran, knowing that eye contact with the young girl besides the man, however brief, might result in unwanted troubles during and after their transaction.

[Ifran]

"It seems an entirely purposeful name," he said in Common. It were better to speak thus than be disappointed by the faulty Arumenic of a foreigner. "This is not a place that requires much of the imagination." Normally an employee would be sent on such an errand as this, but Ifran hoped to teach his apprentice that there were times one ought do their own dirty work. If they found a suitable slave here, she might have her own confidant as Ifran had in Aru. An elegant gesture bade her step forward for a closer look at the Kelvic. That same hand or any of his others could draw a khopesh and kill the beast if it threatened his young cousin. The slaver might have been displeased, but the Pressorah's law would ever be on the side of the Eypharian here. Manipadme crouched, body curving as sinuously as any snakes, statuesque even in such simple movements. She too was a dancer, and when she cooed to the Kelvic, one could tell by the timbre of her voice that she was trained there as well. Let her be the soothing voice, the kind hand. It would serve her well in molding the slave to her will. Ah, but kindness was the beginning of cruelty. "Tell me more, if you please."

[Colombina]

The XP Wand Is Waved! As usual, a beautiful depiction of the complexity and poise of the noble class. Reads like butter. That's a good thing. You know I am an Ifran fan. Points on readable details for apparel. Ifran's Loot 2 XP Observation 1 XP Rhetoric 1 XP Dance (All that posturing ain't easy) Lore of Slave Market Customs Lore of Kelvic Collars Colombina is pleased.