Seeing is Believing

by **Prid** on December 30th, 2013, 10:52 pm

Sunset Quarters -- Nathaniel Selfbled's apartment
1 Winter, 513 AV
1st Bell

"A thousand! What the petch are you thinking?!"

Prid grimaced. The two men had been negotiating for nearly a bell. At least, he figured they were men. It was difficult to tell strictly by the sound of their voices, and the thick blindfold over his eyes and heavy manacles on his hands ensured that the Jamoura wouldn't get to see anything until he was bid to do so. Besides that, the slaver had draped some cloth over his head and body, muffling the voices to begin with, as well as hiding him from general view.

"Shush", beckoned the second voice vehemently. "What I'm thinkin' is that I could ship this thing off to Ravok and get twice that amount!" The first man scoffed and started to say something, but was cut off. "I'm doing you a favor stoppin' in here, cousin. The other guys just wanted to go on. Less risky business in Ravok."

There was a pause, and Prid shuffled his feet. It'd been a long walk from the boat to wherever they were now and, judging by the excessive number of left turns they'd taken, the slavers had either been lost or trying to disorient him.

The two continued, now in hushed whispers. "I won't take him higher than seven hundred," stated the first voice matter-of-factly. "That's final."

"Eight hundred," countered the slaver. Then the first man must've given him a vicious look, because he amended himself with far less confidence. "Seven twenty-five..."

Prid didn't know what to think. He'd been enveloped in the bright side of humanity only days ago. Now it seemed he was subjected to one of its darkest aspects. But this whole slavery ordeal hadn't been too awful so far, and Prid had the distinct feeling that he was getting off easy. Oftentimes on the ship, the other captives were starved or whipped, taken above deck and returning with bloodied back or hairless heads. Prid had experienced none of that, either because he was relatively relaxed about the whole thing or because the crew members were simply too wary of their "great beast".

The first voice returned, almost to cheerily for Prid to believe. "Righty then! You've got a deal, cousin." There was the sound of movement, the scooting of furniture, and the clank of metal on metal as the buyer fetched the coins. Someone grunted in exertion, and a dull thud echoed off the walls.

"There we are. Seven-hundred and twenty five gold-rimmed mizas."

The second man hesitated. "Yer gonna get robbed, keeping all yer money in one place like that."

"Ha! Looks like you're the one robbed, man. Imagine! You let this big brute go for such a measly amount! Do I get to keep the shackles too or what?" He laughed outright, kicking over what must've been the sack of mizas.

Metal scraped as the slaver drew a blade. "How's about I just take the money and the beastie then, eh?"

"Oh puh-lease," the buyer scoffed. "You think you can just waltz in here and kill your favorite cousin? Need I remind you exactly how I've managed to stay alive here all these years while you keep prancing off to the safety of your beloved Ravok?"

"Yeah yeah, talk all ya want. I don't see any help comin' yer way."

"You wouldn't, would you?"

"Eh, what's that s'posed to me--"

"Settle down." Prid figured it was about time for him to interject. If not to simply keep the two from killing each other, than to at least move the conversation along. Whether his rest came here or if he was taken back to the ship didn't matter much to him. "All of your talking is fine, but I would like to sit. And to see."

by **Prid** on December 30th, 2013, 11:04 pm

For a moment Prid couldn't hear the men at all, which must've meant that they were frozen in shock. The buyer was first to break the silence. "He talks," he stated simply.

At that the slaver snorted. "'Course it does, ya great dumb shyke. I told ya that in my letter."

"Pfft, you didn't honestly believe that I cared about whatever the petch your letter said, did you?"

To Prid's irritation, neither of the pair had addressed him, nor acknowledged what he'd said. That fact alone concerned him more than the fact that he was being sold as a slave. So, in annoyance, Prid squatted and crossed his arms with a huff, feeling the floor beneath him with his toes. It was cold, and hard, and Prid plopped his entire weight upon it. Even so, the men didn't seem to notice.

"Well, it seems you did read it, so..."

"Whatever. Now, you heard the fellow. Take your money and get on your merry way so's I can unwrap him from these swaddling clothes you stupidly thought were necessary."

"Ey, we couldn't let folks know we were lugging some giant monkey around."

"Either way. Leave."

The slaver grumbled and wrestled with the sack of mizas that still sat on the wooden floorboards, muttering something about how he should've just dropped the beast into Miss Veecos's lap and still gotten a better price for it. After struggling with the heavy payment for a chime, he eventually called in some assistance. "Leroy! Jimze!"

A door creaked open tentatively, and two more pairs of heavy boots stomped into the room. "Yeah boss?"

"Take care of this. And don't either of you drop it, or I won't stop at your nose this time Jimze -- I'll take your whole petchin' head."

Hasty stomps filled Prid's ears for a moment, then fled as the slaver's lackeys made their way back out of the room. "Eh, here's the key for his chains and all," he huffed, addressing the buyer.

"Wonderful."

"You really should take a trip over to Ravok. It's not as bad as you think, cuz."

"Well. I would say I'll think about it, but I won't."

"Yer loss." And with that, the slaver departed.

by **Prid** on January 1st, 2014, 4:43 am

The fabric of the cover Prid was concealed under suddenly brushed his fur in all the wrong directions. The buyer -- the only man left in the room -- was tugging the cloth off of his frame. Rather unceremoniously, too, by the feel of it. There was a rustling to be heard as the man wadded up the fabric ad tossed it to the floor somewhere across the room.

"You can stand up now." It was obviously more of a demand than a statement of fact, but Prid had about had enough. He may have been relatively well behaved on the ship, but he was not without pride. He had had a price put on his mind, soul, and body. A measly seven hundred twenty-five mizas?

It wasn't in Prid's nature to be materialistic, and he wasn't talented in the way of appraising the value of things. But he was fairly certain that seven hundred twenty-five mizas was not sufficient payment for something that was, in essence, priceless. So Prid was pretty peeved.

"That is true. I can also rip these chain off and ensure that you are never heard from again," he grumbled, hoping that he sounded menacing enough.

The man did not reply right away and, a moment later, Prid found the blindfold gone from over his eyes.

Having been confined to darkness for so long, it took his eyes very little time to adjust to the low light in the room. Once they had, he found himself looking up into the face of his new "owner".

Prid had seen the Spirian Marble Spider roughly twenty times in his life. If he didn't know better, he would've counted this as the twenty-first.

Black eyes peered back at the Jamoura, topped by a hairless brow. Some semblance of fur was overgrown on top of the man's head, and his chin was far too sharp for its own good. In fact, everything that Prid could see about the man was angular. When he spoke, his teeth even gave the impression of sticking out too far.

"Yes, well I assume that's true enough. Unfortunately, it's far easier for me to ensure that you're never heard from again," he shrugged, abruptly turning away with a disinterested look. He'd been gripping the blindfold in his spidery hand, and now let the strip of cloth glide to the floor as he strode away.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Prid countered. Or at least, attempted to counter, as he now found that he couldn't speak. Couldn't hear himself speak, rather. He could feel himself talking in his barrel of a chest, but the sounds seemed muted before they reached his ears.

"What's that? Cat got your tongue?" The man cackled, eyes flashing dangerously in the low light. "Looks like I've beat you to the punch, then."

He stalked back to his purchase, who sat dumbstruck. Prid, in all his years, hadn't experienced anything of this sort before. He might have attributed the phenomenon to an brief issue with his throat, except for the fact that it was perfectly timed to the strange man's actions and words. Prid tried to speak again, with the same result.

So what now? He wasn't going stay sitting on the ground after this. Or, actually, he could. But that would either make him a fool or cheeky. And he was neither of those things.

by **Prid** on January 1st, 2014, 4:58 am

Prid grunted noiselessly as he lifted himself to his feet and extended to his full towering height.

If the man found the Jamoura's size intimidating, he didn't show it.

"Well done! Was that really so difficult?"

Prid brushed a hand across his face in exasperation. He couldn't decided whether he found the man intriguing, unnerving, or annoying.

"My name's Nathaniel Selfbled, by the way." The man began pacing across the room, polished and pointed shoes echoing across the floorboards. "Everybody calls me Gnat, but you won't. What would you like to be called?"

What would he like to be called? As if his name wasn't already set in stone? Prid was Prid. There were no two ways about it. He opened his mouth to answer, but found that his voice was still muted.

The man waved his hand in what Prid assumed was supposed to be an apologetic fashion. "Hm. Sorry about that. Continue." And, just like that, Prid could hear himself again. He wanted to ask Gnat how he'd stolen his voice. Instead, he simply answered the question.

"My name is Prid. It has been Prid for the last two hundred and thirty-six years. My mother named me after her father, Prod. I would like to continue being called Prid."

"Woah there pal, getting a little crabby there." Gnat gave a little monkey-like chuckle as he stepped closer to the Jamoura, wielding the shackle key. Prid held his arms away from his body, begrudgingly gracious, as the young man searched for the lock. "Prid, huh?" he continued. "It's a little lacking." Prid bristled.

"Lacking? It is a family name. What if I told you that your name was... lacking?"

"Then you might be right. But I didn't particularly ask you. Aha!" Gnat must've found the lock. There was a delicate clink followed by a heavy grating as the chains that bound Prid's hands fell to the floor.

"...Thank you," he acquiesced, rubbing his sorely bruised wrists. "But I do not particularly remember asking you for your opinion either."

Gnat tossed the key over his shoulder dismissively. It clattered off the far wall and fell out of view as the man brought his hands up to his temples. "Prid, my friend, come here." He placed his hand on the Jamoura's shoulder and Prid, out of curiosity, obeyed. Gnat led the two to a small bunk.

It wasn't until then that Prid had actually become aware of his surroundings. From what he could see, the room was fairly small, with a short sloped roof. He could probably touch the ceiling, if he had wanted to. Of course, there was the bed that he and his owner were making their way towards. But it was also sparsely furnished with a single chair at a single table. A chest was pushed off to the corner, and the only source of light came from the hearth.

"Please, take a seat." Gnat plopped onto the edge of the bed, and motioned to the floor. Prid obliged, mostly because this wasn't his house, but also partly because perhaps this fellow wasn't as awful as Prid had initially thought. Once he was situated, Gnat continued.

"So. Tell me about yourself."

Now, Prid didn't know what he'd expected the man to say, but it wasn't that. He seemed full of surprises and, all of a sudden, Prid felt a little regretful at having judged the man as a callous brute. He sighed, crossing his legs underneath his massive body. "What is it you would like to know?"

by **Prid** on January 1st, 2014, 5:22 am

"Oh, everything." Gnat leaned forward apprehensively. He was doing a swell job at masking it, but the man was excited. Ecstatic, even. He was quite certain that Sunberth had never seen the likes of that which sat before him now. Imagine, talking gorillas! Was Ionu playing a trick on him? No, he would've sensed his god's presence.

Think of it, though! Not just a talking gorilla, but an intelligent one at that. And it -- he, Prid -- was his. Just what he'd been looking for after almost getting murdered and whatnot. The creature would make an excellent bodyguard, besides that fact that it might draw some unwanted attention. But no matter. Surely such a sentient being would have skills that Gnat could put to use.

"To be strictly forward, I have never seen anything like you before. Where do you come from? Are there more beings like you? I assume so, since you speak of family and tradition." The words flew out of the man's mouth as he grew more and more excited.

The fellow's enthusiasm was entertaining, and Prid found himself unconsciously warming up to him. In Zeltiva, while the people were not exactly rude, they seemed to be more wary of him than anything else. It would be nice to share about who he was. Thus, he launched into a condensed description of himself and his people.

"I come from Taldera to the North and West, and our city of the Spires. I left my home six years ago in order to gain new knowledge and experience. My people are called the Jamoura, and there are very few of us -- nowhere near the population you have in your human cities."

"I see! And... you mentioned something about being over two hundred years old, yes?"

"Mm. Yes. I do not know the limit of our life span, but in relation to you, I have lived a long time. How long is it you humans live? One hundred and fifty years?"

"I believe our maximum is just one hundred."

"Ah. That is a pity."

Gnat didn't seem to have anything to say to that, so he simply pressed on. "Do you understand the concept of slavery? Because, from what I've seen of you so far, it would seem like you don't."

At this, Prid leaned back. It was pleasing to know that the man was taking steps to better understand him, but the topic left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I believe I understand the... concept of such a thing. It is the ownership of another being, yes? I am simply confused as to how or why this is so. I does not seem feasible, for one person to have total power over another."

Gnat stroked his chin, staring past Prid in contemplation. A few moments passed silently. Then, finally. "It's simply the way the world works, Prid. Maybe not in your homeland, but nearly everywhere else. People gain power over another person by either being stronger, smarter, or luckier."

"So which are you?"

Gnat dismissed the question. "All of them, I like to think. But! I paid for you. I gave something of mine to acquire you. Sorry about my cousin, by the way, the unpleasant clod. My point is, you made a poor decision and allowed yourself to get captured by that scumbag. Now you have to face the consequences. The world runs off of a system of give and take, y'know."

And that suddenly made sense. Nature was a delicate balancing game of push and pull. Every action taken had a reaction, for better or worse.

"I see."

"Wonderful! Now, slavery isn't all bad. Especially for you, considering how easy you got off. If you'd actually made it to Ravok, things could've gotten... messy."

That was not a pleasant thought. What about all those other people aboard the ship? Were they destined for some awful fate? Whatever the case, there was nothing Prid could do about it. Not now, anyway.

Gnat cracked a mischievous grin. "And as far as masters go, I'm pretty tame. I essentially only need to use you as a kind bodyguard -- only a truly special basketcase would mess with a guy that's got the eight-foot beastie following him around. But there are also a couple fools that I might need you to, eh, take care of business with. Just some errands every now and again. And of course you'll get a bit of free time here and there. It's quite a lovely system, really. I pay for your food and shelter and, in turn, I don't have to pay you to do my bidding!" The man motioned with his hands while he spoke, waving around and and nodding sagely to himself. "Besides, you really won't have to deal with me that long... Relatively speaking!"

Suddenly, Gnat threw his head back in a cackle, slapping his knee as if what he'd said was the funniest thing in the world. It was a distinguishable personality shift -- one moment, he seemed almost too sane. The next, he was chuckling like a maniac. It had Prid wondering just how many facets there were to this man.

Nevertheless, he had a point. As far as he knew, as a Jamoura, Prid could live forever. Consequently, chances were that Gnat would die sometime within the next fifty years. That wasn't really too long to have to wait. Besides, he'd left home for new experiences. And wasn't this a new experience?

"Also, like I said, you're name is lacking something. You only have one name. So from here on out, you're surname will be North. Welcome to Sunberth, Mr. North!"

North. It rolled off of Prid's slow Jamouran tongue easily enough. In fact, it even sounded like it could have been an actual name of one of his people. North. On top of that, Mr. Selfbled had been some semblance of "gracious" enough to not replace Prid's actual name, as he'd been expecting. Now, to Prid's private delight, he could experience what it was like to have both a name and a surname.

Still, there were many things that he didn't quite understand, questions to be answered. But Gnat had given him much information in a very short time. Prid would think on it, and then approach the man later, once he had time to gather his reeling thoughts.

And so Prid's life as a slave began.