Prison and Slave Training Facility

Crown Prince Rafael Vinicio @kiera

The battle at the beach had been violent, but in the end, Chataya had won. One of her hellhounds had been lost to one of the mages, but she had taken her revenge on that same mage soon after. A painful death had been all that he had deserved after killing one of her precious pets. Even Chataya had not come off clean in the fight with a mighty cut on one cheek that was still slightly bleeding anytime she moved her mouth to talk.

The Prince, Kiera and all the rest would be brought in rough handed by the big Ogres. Their hands were chained with heavy metal and some had nasty wounds that they sustained in the fight. All of them would be put into cells, some with up to 5 at a time in cells that weren't meant to hold more than 1 or 2. The last to be put into a cell was Kiera and prince Rafael. She had almost immediately noticed the expensive clothing of the prince and took him for the best hostage, and Kiera had shown a good amount of battle skills so she didn't want her anywhere near the other to rile them up in rebellion against her.

They would be brought to one of the cells that were furthest back in the facility. The light of day didn't reach there and even the torched only gave a small bit of light to the cells. The door would open and roughly the two would be shoved in there. "Nice and cozy for you both." she would grin to both of them, especially lingering her eyes on Kiera, the one who had given her the cut on her cheek.

She then turned around and started giving commands to the ogres. "Strip the prisoners of their earthy clothes and check them for any marks. If anyone with my brand is found I wish to know immediately. If you find Tattoo's that might look like it could be a mark of rebellion I wish to know as well. They might have something to do with the resistance we have been getting from the humans and elves lately. Don't give them any water or food until I command you otherwise. I will be back soon to see who might be worthy to be trained." And with that, the doors would close.

It didn't take long before the door of the facility opened once again. This time humans and elves would stream in instead of the ogres that they had seen before. Each of them wore a collar around their neck and had many visible scars on their bodies. They would walk barefoot. After each of them had entered, one big ogre went inside after them. "You heard the boss. Strip them naked, take their processions and bring them to me. And be quick about it!" the ogre shouted at them.

Immediately the slaves would start to do so, the cells would be opened for them and closed behind them once again by the ogres. It was obvious the slaves themselves held no power. If any of the prisoners would be stupid enough to try and over take one of the slaves while they were stripping them, the ogre would just laugh and leave them to it. Not caring if the slave lived or died by their hands. If nothing of that sort happened though, the slaves would be let out of the cells when they had gathered everything of the prisoners and be let out just to go to the next cell and do the same. 

Since they were working from front to back, Rafael and Kiera had a little more time to talk among themselves.

God, there was too much racket coming about in this... this dungeon? It certainly smelled like one, buried in the deepest reaches of Hell. She assumed the prince was right, and upon hearing his foreign rambling she wished she could lift her hands and clasp them over her ears. Her head was pounding, like a little gnome with a hammer was having away at the inside of her skull with no reprieve.

The prince spoke up... Rafael? Was that his name? She managed to crack her eyes open again and look up to the shaded figure as he was looking at her. "... Kiera," she replied, trying to raise her voice over the clamor in the other cages. "What... going on?"

Fights? More? Was another battle ensuing? Kiera found a need to move again if such was the case, but her half-worthy attention shifted beyond the man as a poor young woman was shoved inside the cell and locked in. Another prisoner? After watching the prince begin to disrobe and push off the threads to her, it became clear - she was just as much a prisoner as they were, though perhaps worse. A slave, judging by her rags.

This meant that Kiera would be next, in all likelihood. With a pained grunt she would attempt to lift herself up onto her hands and knees - granted, it was a bit difficult with the heavy shackles about her forearms. The weight was offsetting. But she wasn't about to lie down and take this, bare herself down for these monsters and reveal the pages of her history that lay across her skin. She wasn't keen nor intent on harming this woman, though - but she was definitely going to make this difficult for her captors if she could. Sadly, the woman wasn't much for lying down like a dog.

Golden eyes lighting with a viciousness settled on the poor slave girl as she approached, but Kiera wasn't about to let this happen... despite the fact that the prince stuck in this same tiny cage had willingly turned over his attire. There was a deadly glare in her gaze, and she sneered at the female to bare her teeth - an inhuman snarl, most bestial, roaring out at her in turn. It was a clear warning for her to back off or risk the consequences. Her only other option besides the wordless warning? Pushing herself on hands and knees into a corner and preparing to fend the girl off as best she could in this weakened and bound state.

... she hated reason. She hated reason that required her to submit. Especially to the will of that bitch Warden. If hate could kill, both the girl and Rafael would have dropped dead over the next few seconds. Kiera was primed to fight and even go so far as to kill.

A part of her wondered if the girl would welcome a swift death to escape this life of servitude to those monsters outside the cage.

She didn't say a word, nor emit another snarl to either of them. Instead, she would shift to give the pair of them her back - her forehead thumping hard against the back stone wall of this tiny prison. Eyes squeezed shut, at least she could try to block out what was to happen next. Granted, stripping her would be quite a task between the heavy shackles on her forearms and the number of pieces of leather armor over her attire. But she was try to behave as best she could, despite how submitting made her tremble in rage and shame.

Despite every urge, Kiera didn't turn. She didn't attack. She didn't fight. She remained facing the wall, focusing on a small, rounded hole in the mortar about the size of her fingertip. Staring into the seemingly black abyss in that little groove helped to keep her calm and keep her focus away from the overwhelming urge to rend - partially due to the angry beast inside that was dying for another taste.

She heard the ogre and the blow, responding with a minor flinch of her shoulders when she heard the poor slave hit the ground. The animal in her was snarling double fold but she had to ignore it the best she could... despite the fact she was visibly trembling with restraint.

Hearing the prince brought her attention to him as she continued to stare at the wall - another minor distraction she was grateful for, regardless of the fact the two of them were prisoners and literally stripped of everything. "No," she would growl flatly. "I've never been here. I wouldn't ever want to be."

Kiera had to take notice of her hands and flex them - having clenched her fists so hard her knuckles turned white.

Two days. Two days, left to a snarling stomach and dry mouth with nothing to alleviate either one. At least the beast in her head eased up on the rampage it was running for the first day. But sitting there, curled up in the corner with nothing to do but count the seconds, the minutes, the hours - it was demoralizing. It could have been a week or two to pass and it would have felt the same. And being stripped to nothing but a suit from her first days born, revealing a number of old scars and scratches and marks from prior encounters... she felt so alone and vulnerable.

The second day of absolutely nothing but listening to the foreigners and staring at the wall became harder, as the hunger settled in and gnawed away at her stomach and that blasted monster inside began anew in the terrorizing of her mind. The taste for blood was growing stronger, and it was making her ill at the thought. She would curl up tightly with knees to her chest and arms hugging them close and a hand with the fingers combed through her loose hair, pressing her form as tightly into the corner and away from Rafael as she could get.

When he asked her the question she visibly flinched. Hearing his voice register to her in Common just made the animal in her start thrashing around in her head, as if having just been reminded that there was a readily available source of warm flesh and hot blood right at her fingertips. She struggled to think past it and focus on the man, though she refused to look at him - her head shaking a bit from side to side in response. "... never been here," she rasped, now very aware at how thirsty she was.