A branch snapped as the horned man climbed up the tree, briefly losing his footing before finding a more secure place to boost himself up. The sun was setting over the farmlands of the crossroad and all the commotion seemed to die down. He continued up higher into the tree, searching for nice large branch that was high enough to conceal himself amongst the leaves. Eventually, he found said branch that met his standards.
Wasn't the most comfortable of places on the body, but it seemed to bring him some peace of mind. More security than any tavern, inn, or bed could provide -- Besides, he spent most of his nights like this. He sprawled up on the branch laying on his stomach. He let his limbs dangle from the tree branch as he idly looked over to the brush where he hid his belongings and chainmail.
He couldn't see it. "If I can't see it, then nobody can," he thought while removing the mandoline from his back. With that he churns about and repositions himself carefully on his back, letting only his legs dangle from the branch while securing the mandoline with his hands.
Right hand wrapping around the mandoline's neck as he carefully placed his fingers accordinly to the first chord that came to mind. The left resting across its body and ontop of the bridge; not quite the position to strum. He pressed his fingers into the chords as hard as he could.. Far harder than needed, but he wanted to feel the strings. Feel them through the calluses on his fingers, feel them pressing into his skin so he could remember the familiar pain of when he first started learning how to play.
The pain takes him away -- His eyes roll in the back of his head just after his pupils shaped into wide spheres and just before he closes them. He moans in what might be called extacy -- Taken back to the time. That time. Magdelena.
Waking up at that time, and at that time expecting it to be just like the days in prior months before it that he spent there in the cell. Waking up and cursing the bastard that double-crossed him, landing him in the bad graces of Thay -- Or, at least giving them a reason to hold him under their authorities so they could squeeze whatever coin they could from his existence.
He felt a bit woozy when he lifted himself off the floor, instinctively touching his arm that held several tiny puncture wounds. They were bleeding him. Taking his blood for whatever reasons he did not know. He figured running experiments or something stupid wizards like that would do, but no matter, they were bleeding him.
Groaning as he rolled over to do some push-ups. Not to keep in shape really, but to exhaust himself so he could go back to sleep. Burn another day in peaceful sleep if he could. Much better than consciously waiting it out for the next Thayan bastard to come in and beat him or take his blood. Perhaps both.
"Up, down, up, down. One, two.." He chanted trying not to think of anything but the numbers. In vain; he was distracted by a ruckus somewhere outside of his cell ---- His cell being unlike many others you would imagine. There were no bars or cells opposite of it, it was more of a display case. Three stone walls and one of thick glass. The glass wall didn't give him much to look at. Only a narrow hallway with fancy decorations and equally fancy pantings on the wall. Convenient for those trading with the Thayans, he imagined. Walk down the narrow hallway, peek at those they're slaving and trading, and make a buy -- Convenient.
The ruckus continued and he decided that it was beginning to piss him off. In annoyance, he pushed himself off the floor while curses something under his breath. Padding to the wall closest in the direction of the ruckus he places his ear against it.
He could hear a woman screaming as she seems to be struggling. A few slaps, but it seemed that she was on the receiving end. "Unfortunate," he thought while snickering. Though he couldn't bring himself to stop listening. The struggle continued as the screams were eventually muffled but not unheard. It was a good thirty minutes before it died down into silence.. Another thirty minutes before he heard a door open then shut.
The shutting of the door made his heart drop into his stomache and he quickly drew his head away from the wall to leap to the floor quietly. Making sure to face the glass wall as he pretend-slept on the floor. He could hear the footsteps coming.. Closer, closer, closer. He cracked a single eye to see the man passing.
"Shit," he cried out silently within his mind after catching a glimpse of the man. A Red Wizard.
A Red Wizard that carried a wide grin as one would have after having his ways with a whore. At least, he imagined that is what he was doing. He hoped that was all he was here for, that whore, and he was leaving now. The tiefling cringes his eyes shut and prays that he is right. That the Red Wizard is content and doesn't notice him.
He knew better to think that. To pray.
The Red Wizard snapped his fingers, setting off the tiefling's shock collar. The tiefling cried outloud clutching at the shock collar while writhing on the ground. His pupils reacting violently to the surges of electricity, both shrinking and expanding against his body's will. Going through painful convoltions while spitting up saliva across his face. Fading in and out of consciousness while the electricity poured through his body.
He was sure that had he not been a tiefling this would have killed him. The Red Wizard no doubt knew this as well as he stood on the other end of the glass, watching the tiefling with a conceited grin.
Wasn't the most comfortable of places on the body, but it seemed to bring him some peace of mind. More security than any tavern, inn, or bed could provide -- Besides, he spent most of his nights like this. He sprawled up on the branch laying on his stomach. He let his limbs dangle from the tree branch as he idly looked over to the brush where he hid his belongings and chainmail.
He couldn't see it. "If I can't see it, then nobody can," he thought while removing the mandoline from his back. With that he churns about and repositions himself carefully on his back, letting only his legs dangle from the branch while securing the mandoline with his hands.
Right hand wrapping around the mandoline's neck as he carefully placed his fingers accordinly to the first chord that came to mind. The left resting across its body and ontop of the bridge; not quite the position to strum. He pressed his fingers into the chords as hard as he could.. Far harder than needed, but he wanted to feel the strings. Feel them through the calluses on his fingers, feel them pressing into his skin so he could remember the familiar pain of when he first started learning how to play.
The pain takes him away -- His eyes roll in the back of his head just after his pupils shaped into wide spheres and just before he closes them. He moans in what might be called extacy -- Taken back to the time. That time. Magdelena.
--------------------------------------------------------
Waking up at that time, and at that time expecting it to be just like the days in prior months before it that he spent there in the cell. Waking up and cursing the bastard that double-crossed him, landing him in the bad graces of Thay -- Or, at least giving them a reason to hold him under their authorities so they could squeeze whatever coin they could from his existence.
He felt a bit woozy when he lifted himself off the floor, instinctively touching his arm that held several tiny puncture wounds. They were bleeding him. Taking his blood for whatever reasons he did not know. He figured running experiments or something stupid wizards like that would do, but no matter, they were bleeding him.
Groaning as he rolled over to do some push-ups. Not to keep in shape really, but to exhaust himself so he could go back to sleep. Burn another day in peaceful sleep if he could. Much better than consciously waiting it out for the next Thayan bastard to come in and beat him or take his blood. Perhaps both.
"Up, down, up, down. One, two.." He chanted trying not to think of anything but the numbers. In vain; he was distracted by a ruckus somewhere outside of his cell ---- His cell being unlike many others you would imagine. There were no bars or cells opposite of it, it was more of a display case. Three stone walls and one of thick glass. The glass wall didn't give him much to look at. Only a narrow hallway with fancy decorations and equally fancy pantings on the wall. Convenient for those trading with the Thayans, he imagined. Walk down the narrow hallway, peek at those they're slaving and trading, and make a buy -- Convenient.
The ruckus continued and he decided that it was beginning to piss him off. In annoyance, he pushed himself off the floor while curses something under his breath. Padding to the wall closest in the direction of the ruckus he places his ear against it.
He could hear a woman screaming as she seems to be struggling. A few slaps, but it seemed that she was on the receiving end. "Unfortunate," he thought while snickering. Though he couldn't bring himself to stop listening. The struggle continued as the screams were eventually muffled but not unheard. It was a good thirty minutes before it died down into silence.. Another thirty minutes before he heard a door open then shut.
The shutting of the door made his heart drop into his stomache and he quickly drew his head away from the wall to leap to the floor quietly. Making sure to face the glass wall as he pretend-slept on the floor. He could hear the footsteps coming.. Closer, closer, closer. He cracked a single eye to see the man passing.
"Shit," he cried out silently within his mind after catching a glimpse of the man. A Red Wizard.
A Red Wizard that carried a wide grin as one would have after having his ways with a whore. At least, he imagined that is what he was doing. He hoped that was all he was here for, that whore, and he was leaving now. The tiefling cringes his eyes shut and prays that he is right. That the Red Wizard is content and doesn't notice him.
He knew better to think that. To pray.
The Red Wizard snapped his fingers, setting off the tiefling's shock collar. The tiefling cried outloud clutching at the shock collar while writhing on the ground. His pupils reacting violently to the surges of electricity, both shrinking and expanding against his body's will. Going through painful convoltions while spitting up saliva across his face. Fading in and out of consciousness while the electricity poured through his body.
He was sure that had he not been a tiefling this would have killed him. The Red Wizard no doubt knew this as well as he stood on the other end of the glass, watching the tiefling with a conceited grin.
Zack passed out.

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