Chapter I: Crop work
It was early in the mid-August when the crops drooped between the salcrise and stone-flower stocks tied leaves under the melting sun in the field. The heat simmered down over the slaves sweating backs, causing them to work twice as hard on the plantation. Faron, the once well-armed Argonian (Half-lizard, Half-man) was now nothing but a lone slave himself; spending hours during the day plucking cobleroot and ash-yams from the dry ground and long nights enduring painful lashes from their Slavemaster when having done wrong…or absolutely nothing. The whips were long, hard vines made of skinned scamp's which were gremlin-like creatures hunted in only the driest parts of Tamriel which had a wicked set of teeth-like plants woven into the leather of the weapon to tear away at the succulent flesh of the several slaves wounded spines. There on the plantation, the slaves spent hours in the blazing sun working with little water and only pillow less cot's that lied on the cottage floor to sleep on during sleepless nights.
Faron rose on his bony legs and lifted his snout to question what hours he had left. Would this be the life he had to live? The life started as a lonely prisoner, the great thief, but suddenly a warrior from across the realms, To a Farm-slave? His toes pattered across the deserted grass and onto the muddy mix of dirt and stones of cobleroot and salcrise. Leaning, he used his bare, dusty claws to grab the rough stems of the cobleroot and yank up the muddy roots of the piney stems that held it so far into the ground, searching for signs of air. The thorns dug into his scale-covered palms and they started to bleed as he reached the mine cart. He dusted the ends off with hope and pride, then dropped it in. He lifted his nose once again and stared off into the distance, over the grassy hills where the burning amber that was only just rising over the peak and a bull-etch passed over the mid-day sun.
"You have great hope, Argonian?" Asked a Khajjit (Half-Cat human Half-man)from next to him in her hiss-sort of tone from the ancient's of Elsweyr.
"I was once a great warrior..." admitted Faron Plainly. He turned to look at her, she had silk, light brown fur tattered and patched with dirt. She had bright green eyes like his own and curled whiskers, her cat like ears pierced and her fur bare, down until her patchy farming pants they all had to wear, he could see her pointed claws curled beneath the ends of her bare toes.
"Yes?" She smiled.
"And I still am..." Faron finished dryly, reaching down to pull out another root.
"Hibsi has advice for you, Argonian," The Khajjit added watching him with a thoughtful glance as he passed her on his way to the mine cart.
"Hibsi knows who you are...she knows you are more than a slave, she knows you are more..." She caught a glimpse into his cool green eyes and a slow smile curled under her whiskers as she growled,
"You are much...much more." The Sun sat slowly over the blue sky and many of the slaves continued to work. Faron's hands were bloody... And so were the rest of them. He turned to look at the shaggy hut and the one next to it which was the slave masters.
"Marshbrother knows what you are thinking, a true warrior would" whispered High-in -Heart next to the tall standing Argonian. Faron turned and looked at him, and then back at the slave master Shack "click click click..." High - In- heart muttered passing away slowly. Faron picked up a stalk of Salcrice and dropped it in the mine cart full of Ash- yams and cob root. Slink-in-Sun was the first to add to the cart before him. If one of the following where not put into the mine cart you would have to be tied up and whipped as would the last person who added supplies; root or flower. Muck and rat meat was splattered into a bowl and thrown viciously onto the hardwood table, Rat meat or even muck was the best meal they could get all week. Rat meat was tough and greasy and had an unpleasant taste and stench to it. While ground-muck was spooned out of a mud hole and stirred with swamp water and seasoned with wheat for flavor.
After dinner they proceeded to turn their bowls in to the wood scrubbers then headed down to the river in the morning to clean their own dishes and return to the hut before 9 Am, where breakfast would be served. There breakfast normally consisted of Kwama scuttle, stale bread and scrib-jelly. Their beds were made of Wick wheat and cotton that was rolled up in the end for a 'pillow' (which didn't do much good when lying on a hardwood floor). Their farm camp was not the only slavery there was... there was also town camps, mine camps, and personal slaves who worked around the house or did what their master had ordered them to do. Every form of slave where to obey their slave masters and harsh treatments as every other slave... Morning rose and early before 7:30 they would wake and start working until breakfast. Their master served kwamma eggs, scrib jelly, bread and tossed salad made from green-leachen, kish-fiber and scarcrow, with a side of Slaughterfish scales. Once in a while the slaves will get a small portion of crab meat or side of scales for one of the meals. It was a reward for their hard work.
Faron was picking Salcrice in the field when he heard a strong house in the distance. He knocked on the dark elf(or drummer) 's door but was rewarded with a gruff
"Who?" followed by a thick tug at the door and soon Faron saw a pair of beady red eyes watching him in the darkness…
"Faron, Sir" he replied, glancing back at the breezy field's.
"What is it?" The voice demanded, still not showing its face.
"Sir, a howling sound came from behind the hills should we be of alarmed?"
The door of the shack opened slowly until the full body of a fully armed in leather covered dark elf stood tall in the doorway; next to him, a large ugly orc half his size. Faron did not fear the either of them, he kept his pointed chin held high and his eyes fixed on the elf's soulless red eyes when he loomed over him and spoke,
"A Howl?" He questioned, his voice dark and full of irritation as he went on dreadfully,
"You came from your work at the hour of the sun to interrupt me with something as irrelevant as a Howl!?" he boomed, and even though the Argonian could see his fury blaze up in front of him, he responded with a simple and rather gruff tone yet attempted a feared voice,
"Yes Sir."
"Sounds like a bad case of The Nix-Hounds sir." The enormous orc said from over the dark elf's shoulder, which seemed to relax him a bit yet his beady red eyes never lifted from Faron's harsh stare. He then drew back and slammed the door right in the Argonian's face, who luckily had stepped back quick enough that it missed his pointed snout by but an inch or so. A moment after the shack door flung open again with an ear piercing creek but Faron didn't wince. There stood the Slavemaster with a long leather belt woven of scamp-skin and decorated in jagged tree pines.
"Perhaps now we could put an end to this "howling" with a good crop to its backside…that will teach IT not to disturb me, for stupid reasons, Like a bloody howling nix-hound probably a mile away from the fields!" he snarled, obviously referring from the animal to Faron with narrowed eyes. The Dark elf then lifted the belt at the Argonian, who immediately drew back in a flinch, waiting for the endless lashing of pain that would have him kneeling in the fields for the next few hours or so…
"Stop!" hissed a familiar fellow Argonian voice from behind him who had already made his way to a stop in front of Faron with his arms outstretched and snout to the dark elf.
"How dare-…" The angered Slavemaster began, but before he could finish the lash the pale skinned lizard faced creature turned on Faron who was now awake and alert at the scene and hissed,
"Run!" Faron was so caught off guard by the assault he could barely get his feet to budge and sudden anger…or pity rose up for his friend when he began to question his sanity "What are you do-…" but before he could finish the other male was flicking his tongue out and hissing at him, sending Faron's instinct to turn and bolt. Bolt as fast as his skinny, worn-legs would let him. Bolt across the hard patches of land and through the soothing grass with wounded feet and past several other preoccupied slaves who had already turned full attention on the escaped. Bolt up the distant hills where the shimmering son ricocheting in blankets off his rough complexion where he about keeled over; his bony claws raked over against his slouched knees as he huffed and heaved for breaths. His breath pulled tight and his lungs grew hard until he slowly but gradually looked back upon the slippery rock above the marsh. Woods seemed to stretch forever in front of him... A bridge laid out in the distance where a massive creature almost as big as a blimp of some sort soared over the horizon... Tentacles hanging from its mass like a ocean creature swimming through the clouds with pink shells and blue/violet bellies...Bull Netchs'. Just as Faron went to turn his snout about met the dark blue of bare skin and he'd only lift it in horror then stumble back into the shadow of the skinny drummer who bared his teeth when he sneered at the Argonian,
"Thought you could get away,Lizard?" His voice dripped of venom and Faron had jerked back to run again but the dark elf snagged his thin arm and dragged him backward, and the Argonian's freedom,was no more.
By the time they reached the plantation, Farons' beatings had doubled and were twice as painful as the night before. He was stripped of his garments and tied by the wrist with heavy rope against a leaning palm...his bare back exposed to the blade of the whip when the orc lifted it into the sky for all the slaves to see...to watch as he bought it down again,and again against the flesh of the male. Faron drew blood from his own tongue as he bit down on his tongue to keep from crying out in agony lash after lash...more needles digging into his skin and jerking back to pluck more and more of his weakened scales. Through the pain and the agony,the argonian's dim green hues lifted to see Tied-Tail, the Argonian who'd stuck up for him back at the Slavemaster's shack what seemed like forever ago now tied back next to him- getting the same treatment as he.
"Thanks." He whispered.