Boethiah
Dark Messiah
Wind blows the sand;
Yet it has no where to go.Neelgaimon is a petty world located where nothing important ever goes on. Before our might it is but an iota of power. There are no standing armies to call on; no soldiers to fight their wars.
Rumors spread through the mouths of smugglers that on this very world there is undue wealth of immeasurable magnitude. The crux of prosperity is an enclave of slave traders and although many of the salves are used to mine the sand the world is known for; a multitude more are sold for incredible riches.
There may seem to be little significance in this until word came out that one of their advocates is none other than the traitor, Ozuvyn Sar-Sargoth. Former High King of Gulamendis; once on equal status with the Host Lord herself. The Gulandi warrior-king is a shrewd thinker who would quickly vanish the moment a fleet arrived to subdue him.
In a bold effort to trap him... Anja Aj'Rou entered an unwinnable skirmish in which she was supposedly captured. The faux battle resulted in the prophet being sold into this very slave ring. The witch is entrusting her most capable subordinates with the task of rooting out the fallen Harbinger and in the process take control of Neelgaimon's slave port. If successful -- The Primeval may prevent a potential civil war between the Gulandi and gain a new pillar for their empire of empires.
Neelgaimon
-Chattel-
(Slave Port)
Anja felt the chains tighten around her wrists; a pair of cuffs bound her. Without the force as a weapon she was more or less vulnerable, and although her superior agility could get her out of such predicaments against greenhorn opponents, she'd have no way of removing the cuffs or escaping the world.
Relying on her own intuition there was no fear of being executed -- not right away at least. Not when Ozuvyn wants nothing more than for her to be his slave.
"Move." An enforcer grunted, prodding her with an inactive stun baton. Two guards stood at his flanks, ensuring that their high-profile property did have any chances of escape.
She didn't say a word; only doing as he asked. The Host Lord strode through the halls of the Despot's palace behind the scenes various nobleman caught a glimpse and wondered who she was. Their awe at why anyone would need such cuffs.
"A Jedi!" Many muttered.
More guards lined the halls as she was brought before the man in-charge of this enclave.
"Welcome, welcome, welcome!" His hands rose in an upbeat gesture. "Everyone, leave us." The guards hesitated.
"Sir, I ---"
"I don't pay you to argue with me! All of you do as I say or it'll be you tied up next! Do you understand!?" The man screamed at his hired soldiers. Some did not react at all, others winced, but all left immediately without further protest. His breath slowed to a healthy pace and he sat back down into his elegant throne.
"Useless, absolutely useless! You on the other hand; I've heard very few ever second guess your word... All except one, it seems." Chortling the last few words he waved his hand dismissively.
Shaking his head, "Cruel jests! But you're now my prisoner... Should I have you scrub my floors? Maybe fight to the death against my pets? You're too violent to be my concubine. Even then, who would really want to kark a xenocidal woman who believes in fairytales?" His humor died down after each word he spoke.
"Well? I'm giving you choices! Choose."
"Oh... But I am a humble servant at your mercy. As insane and naive as you say I am... I doubt any decision I make would be worthy of your eclipsing eminence." She radiated with mock humility; bowing and curtsying. Her milky-blue eyes fixated on his amber ones, a measure of will -- to silently claim hegemony over his very soul.
"Do you know my name? I am Ragasu Vadalentei. That is a name you are not worthy to speak; you're a slave. I -will- break you." The slaver shot up from his seat and stomped down on the floor in opposition of her mannerisms. Some of the guards flooded back into the room as his anger erupted.
"Put her in a cell until Ozuvyn arrives."
Being escorted out of the main hall she was brought down below the surface where slaves are placed to be sold off. It was less of a cell and more like a cage. In fact, some of them were filled with beasts rather than people.
Now it was up to her agents, subordinates, Warlords; those who follow her to find and end the life of Ozuvyn Sar-Sargoth.
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