Trigger Warning:

Human trafficking

Suggested Violence

Drugs

Sitting at the campfire, an almond-skinned figure in a green cloak sipped from a large wooden tankard, his dark braids falling over his shoulders carelessly. He was tired, as he'd been traveling long and far in the search of the truth of the world around him. He was readying to rest for the night, the sun setting in the far distance of the west and the shadows beginning to grow longer over the ground. As he sipped he wondered at the whereabouts and well-being of his friends. They'd come here so long ago, searching together for their own answers, but always led in the same - or similar - directions. He followed his instincts, and the direction the world pulled him in, eventually being led away from the others as they either settled to build or took off in their own directions. There was too much to find, and not enough movement for his taste. He didn't like sitting still for too long. Of course, now that he was thinking about it, he couldn't help but feel antsy. But he knew better than to let himself wander to exhaustion. The world wasn't safe out here all alone, and even in a group it could be trying. He settled his cup to one side and-

The silent stillness of the overtaking twilight was broken as voices could be heard not too far from his camp. That was strange to say the least. Who would be out this far from the research base? And so late? Had his allies and friends found something new? Hoping for news, he stood from his seat and pulled his hood over his head, lifting his trusty glaive from where it leaned to one side. He used it as a walking stick as he moved, though something inside him churned. Something was wrong. What hunters and researchers would be running about like that? They were so loud he could hear them through the caverns from above ground. It set him on edge. Could the research committee have sent more people? Those who didn't have research on their minds? They wouldn't have…

He found himself peeking through the opening in the stones, trying to get a better look at those who were yelling out like they were searching for something. They were strangely dressed and carried heavy metal weapons that he was pretty sure were bowguns… or at least something similar? He'd never seen such sleek, small designs for the things. They didn't look like hunters at all. They sort of looked like civilians who'd wandered into the area completely by accident, though the hidden man had no idea how this could have happened. As far as he knew, there had never been any human life on the continent before those who came from the old world. And after being here for forty years, there was no way they'd missed any human natives who might have been hiding there. These people were sneering at each other, pointing this way and that.

"Did she go this way?" one of them asked.

"I don't fuggin know!" another answered in annoyance, "she shouldn't have been able to get anywhere at all with all of the stuff we gave her."

"If you two don't shut up so I could hear myself think then I'm gonna feed you both to the monsters out here!" a third slapped the two arguing men on the head, his bowgun tossed over his shoulder on a strap. "If the boss found out we let his pet get out he's gonna skin all of us alive!"

The man in the shadows winced beneath his cloak. They were hunting a beast of some sort, which seemed to have been held captive and broken free. He wondered what they meant by 'stuff'. Tranquilizer of some sort, perhaps? He immediately felt sorry for the beast. To keep most monsters at bay for long periods of time, it would take immense amounts of tranquilizer. Having the stuff in one's system for such an amount of time could have had many negative side effects, not to mention having missed years of one's own life. Sure, he himself was a hunter, but that didn't mean he had the right to claim the creatures as his own. They belonged wild and free, not caged. The feeling was something he could relate to since he'd left the seaside headquarters.

"She can't have gotten far," the man who seemed to lead the other two spoke up again, "she can barely lift those chains we've got on her. Look for drag marks. It can't be that hard."

The man rolled his eyes. They weren't hunters so they had no idea how to track a creature. He did though. He scanned the ground, seeking marks. There was nothing but the footprints of the humans, their shoes tossing up dirt as they moved, showing more wear and tear than any hunter would allow in their garments. Perhaps they were just not terribly bright? They headed southwest, following the open gorge toward the wetlands. The hunter slipped out of his hiding place, eyes casting this way and that over the arid ground. Their footprints were leading from the sandy basin of the desert area. There was no place to go beyond that, for the craggy rocks and cliffs held no openings to pass through. He stepped lightly, keen eyes easily catching the double back of their trail, ears perked and listening for any signs of life around him. The Nois overhead were becoming quiet as the sun lowered in the sky, the light dimming further so that the deep blue took on a blackening ombre. It was so quiet that he almost missed it, the soft lamenting cry behind one of the pillars of earth that jutted upward like a sword to the heavens. His years of hunting brought him to caution as he hefted his glaive behind him in one hand. Could the sound come from the beast those men were looking for? It didn't sound like any monster he'd ever heard, but rather like a woman in misery. He rounded the corner of the column slowly, his shoes not making even the slightest of sound on the sand. His eyes widened when the creature came into view.

A human woman, draped in tattered silks and laden down with iron chains that cut into her neck, wrists, and ankles, sat with her back against the stone, her knees drawn to her chest and her head down. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her legs and she was shivering heavily. He couldn't help the catching of breath that alerted her to his presence. Her head turned up and the terror on her face was evident, her body lurching to one side to get away, but the chains dragging her to a hampered pace. A piece of silk shredded beneath her as she tried to crawl away, her movements dazed and disoriented. She flopped to the side in the sand, landing on her elbow and trying to struggle back up again. His original assumptions had been right. The 'beast' they'd been tracking was indeed heavily drugged. He set his glaive on the ground and pulled off his hood, crouching to try to ease her fear. He couldn't just stand there and let this go on.

"I won't hurt you," he offered softly, "I'm not with those… men." He momentarily questioned the use of the word, but for the moment it would suffice. She looked over her shoulder at him, eyes filled with terror at his presence, teeth bared in self defence. It was surprisingly animalistic for a woman who looked so soft. Her fingers ground into the sand like claws and he drew back slightly. "I'm here to help…" he promised softly, releasing his hand from his hooded cloak to reach for her, showing that his hands were empty of weapons. Her nose wiggled softly, though her expression didn't change. Was she sniffing? Yet another notably animal motion, though he couldn't say much considering his chosen profession and calling. "It's alright… are you hungry?" It felt odd to speak to her like he'd found someone's pet and was trying to gain its trust, but he saw her eyes shift as he reached for his rations pouch to pull out some jerky. He held it out for her and his sharp ears heard the slight grumble of her stomach. She was very thin from what he could tell, though the silks that wrapped around her obscured most of what his critical eye could see. She licked her lips, turning on her haunches like a wild dog considering its luck. Her hand slowly reached out toward him, half-lidded eyes darting between his face and his hand. She didn't trust him in the slightest. Considering what little he knew of her, he couldn' say he blamed her. She yanked the jerky out of his hand and stuffed it into her mouth, pulling away from him again as swiftly as she could manage. She was laden down by the chains, and her groggy movements proved beyond question that there was some foreign contaminant in her system. The chains rattled as she shredded her way through the jerky, her long hair falling in a curtain around her curved face and over her slim shoulders. It pooled around her like inky water as her hands lowered to her knees, her body still facing him. "I am the Seeker," he offered, beginning to wonder if she even understood him. She sniffed again, leaning only slightly closer.

"'Ay! I found her!" The shout in the distance made them both jump, the hunter recognizing the voice of one of the men he'd witnessed earlier. He rose to his feet deftly with his glaive in his hand as the shouting continued. "I told you I heard the bitch's chains out here!" Heavy footfalls clambered through the loose sand to get to the woman as she forced herself against the columb, directly toward the glaive-wielding hunter. He stepped aside to let her pass, not obstructing her escape in the slightest. He didn't like the idea of fighting people, but something about these humans gave his stomach a sour feel. He stepped out from behind the column, facing down the man with his hood tugged back over his head. They skidded to a halt before him, their eyes on his glaive. "Git outta the way!" The one who'd spotted the woman ordered, "we gotta bring her back to where she belongs."

"I'm assuming you're the ones who put the chain on her neck?" the hunter's voice was soft, but held a note of displeasure as he stared them down from the high ground.

"Nah, that was-" the man who tried to speak was elbowed by one of the others.

"Hush! Lookit! He's from here! He wouldn't understand!" the largest of the men hissed through his teeth.

"And what exactly wouldn't I understand?" he demanded, eyes on their bowguns, which they had upholstered and were pointing in his direction. "And you should lower your weapons here. There is no monster to attack you so there is no reason to have them drawn." They didn't back down, and they didn't release their grip on their firearms. "I do not want to fight you…" he forced out, though the situation was beginning to feel more futile by the moment. He wondered for a moment if the chained woman had managed to get away-

The ringing screams of the Nois above them made them all jump, the hunter slipping behind the column of earth as the three armed men fired their bowguns into the air. Those things were damn loud! What had set off the Nois? They were usually quiet unless attacked. A thunderous rumble shook the area and a Barroth barreled through, charging the men as the hunter looked to the far clif to the north. There was a hole in the ground and he barely caught sight of the end of a chain as it slipped downward. There were screams as the three tried to fend off the Barroth with their guns, seeming to not think about whether or not they should dodge. He was about to jump for the same hole in the ground the woman had disappeared through, but his keen ears picked up the sound of jingling as the men fought for their lives. His gaze turned to peer around the pillar and he caught a glint of metal in the soft moonlight. A circle of keys had fallen to the sand as the three men ran away, all apparently deaf to the sound as the monster raced after them, their bowguns proving to be mostly useless against it. He stepped forward and grabbed them, heading to follow the woman down the hole now that they were in his grip.

Deep beneath the sandy basin of the desert, the hunter landed in semi-darkness, a lump of silk and flesh to the side proving to be the young woman. She shivered as she glanced his way, kneeling on the long-dead bones of some beast who'd fallen and been unable to get out. She hugged herself, her face impossibly pale. She was breathing heavily, her soft heaves sounding painful as they echoed in the darkness. She could barely move and he knew there wouldn't be much fight left in her at this point, but he was careful anyways.

"I found these for you," he dangled the keys out toward her, but her shuddering frame didn't move in the slightest. "I can unlock those chains for you…" he stepped forward. All she could manage was to flinch and turn her face away. He moved slowly, carefully, trying to figure out which key would unlock her ankle first. They all looked almost the same, but it took several tries before he would actually manage to pull the heavy shackle off from her. Raw red marks on her ankles showed harsh even in the low light of the subterranean space. He tried on her wrists next. Each of the cuffs took a different key, something he personally thought was ridiculous, but then again, so was the idea of owning a person, no matter how beastly or beautiful they might be. Could she really be considered beautiful right then though? She may have been at one point, but she was thin enough that her cheekbones stood out staunchly on her face and her eyelids were unhealthily dark. Her wrists and ankles were thin and fragile, as was her neck when he finally got to that lock. She looked to him listlessly as he worked, her expressionless visage peering over him without even the slightest utterance of a sound. He shoved the shackles away from her and dropped the keys into the pile, looking over her wounds.

"These look painful," he observed, pulling out a small glass jar and trying to hand it to her. "If you drink this then you should feel better." He offered. She simply stared at him. He didn't want to have to feed it to her. Where was her sense of survival she'd had only a short time before? He looked around, able to see some glowing moss a little ways down the length of the underground chamber. "Can you stand?" He doubted it. "Give me a moment…" He walked down the hollowed out passageway and grabbed some of the glowing moss, bringing it back over to her so that they could both see more easily. It wasn't until she was better illuminated that he realized the dark blots on her silken wrappings. She was much more wounded than he'd originally thought. He knelt at her side, her head tipping to lay against the rock wall, eyes beginning to close. "You need to drink this…" he informed her, though it once again had no effect. He clenched his jaw and reached for her, finding her too weak to actually do anything in response. He tilted the jar against her lips and the green fluid inside - a mixture of honey and herbs - dribbled down her throat. She winced slightly, though she seemed too tired to actually properly react, a small cough making its way out of her chest. The first sound he'd heard from her since her sobs had drawn his attention earlier. "Stay awake…" he half pleaded, though it was getting him nowhere. She was slipping off into unconsciousness, the healing potion unable to combat her exhaustion.