Last Of His Line : Bargains

Ozark walked over to the Collar stations where a Burly man whose left eye had rotted from a Cherborg Attack at sea, His body riddled with scars yet had a kind smile that he knew belonged to Aeron.

"No need to worry 'bout the pain much. I'll getcha a little sumthing to numb the branding, least I could do for ya for saving my face." Aeron patted his back with reassurance and passed a Silver leaf that shone within the little lights of the top deck. "Graywiller leaves, Just chew some and you'll be numb for a few hours, I hope."

Ozark opened his mouth allowing the Silvery leaf nest in his mouth chewing the herb until it was a paste, a Bitter-sour paste that nearly made him gag had it not numbed his sense of taste from the moment the paste spread throughout his mouth until he had swallowed the thing visibly shivering.

"So, was it you that knocked up That Ara Gal?" A Clink from the Collar and Shackles being bound to him as the Burly man asked his question. "A Bit irresponsible on yer part but who am I to talk about Irresponsibility!"

Aeron cackled as he gave the brand a blaze that nearly made the steel become a yellowish tint then pressed the steel onto Ozark's Left Hand of the Insignia of a Grinning Demon of the Far-east, an Oni as many of the Natives called them.

"Now Yer all set." Aeron exclaimed as he guided Ozark out to the top deck as the Pale Teen squinted from the bright light then pulled him down the walkway and into the busy streets. The Burly man turned to him with a grin that would have scared children to submission. "Now I'm Paradin' You so You get More of a Chance of being Bought. You got yourself a Pretty face so You'd make well as a Servant, and Your Physique from all the work under the brig has made you pleasin to the eyes enough for some Rich Bitch's Collection so You got Nothing to worry bout!"

Except for Ara and Mia, Ozark thought to himself as he kept his stoic face with a faux unbowing posture that made Aeron grin maniacally more than needed.

"Yes! YES BOY! SHOW YOUR WORTH IN YOUR STRIDE!"

Ozark knew of this tactic as one of the Slaves before was of apparent Royalty, Arces, the young prince as he claimed to be he was, taught Ozark and a few Slaves about proper Ettiquete and Manner of Carrying One's worth with their stride. The Slavers didn't mind the Lessons the Prince gave as they knew it would bring them more weight in wealth if their more pleasant looking slaves carried themselves at the same degree and pedigree as one of the Royal blooded. A few months later the Prince was bought back by his kingdom.

"Oi Lad! Stay Conscious will ya?! we're almost there!"

Ozark nodded and increased his pace much to the joy of the Slaver.

There were calls and exclaims towards them offering Gold right off their Pockets for Ozark.

"107 Gold for the Specimen!" A Woman with silver locks of hair exclaimed.

"114 Gold for The Boya~" A Sultry call.

"217 Gold for the Raven Head!"

Aeron chuckled borderline cackling for the price these folks were willing to spend on the lad and replied. "If Ya Want 'im get to the Auction House! We'll be there patiently waitin for yous!"

A loud uproar echoed in the city for the advertisement.

Ozark instead of being concerned of what they would do to him, had they bought him, was drinking the view of the large city and its market, various smells of Meat and Fish invaded his nose, the spices from a Vegetable stall made his mouth water for a moment. It was a small taste of freedom that ever was for the slave.

That taste however ended as soon as they entered a fancy building filled with the scent of sex, rust, blood, and incense. The Inside was decorated accordingly, they had chandeliers that dwarfed him, chairs that were covered by fur or leather that bounced the meager lights from the hanging ornament. There were many slaves whom like him were to be sold and auctioned off to the highest bidder.

Some were in Cages like several Beast-kin Slaves, Humanoids with Some animal features like an extra pair of ears, Fur, and most importantly... Their Monstrous capability to shift Forms.

"LeT Me GO! I aM NoT CaTtLe!" One of the Transformed beast kin roared as they banged and gnawed at their Cages. This Beast kin was of the Wolf Variants, a Lycanthrope. The thrashing nearly tipped it's cage until a whine escaped and echoed as the Cage was struck by Silver whips which silenced the Lycanthrope's indignant growling.

Ozark's brows furrowed as a small scowl decorated his face, his fists clenched, and combined with his unnatural Amber eyes filled with bloody murder. One thing for certain about Ozark is he had lived through every session of torture within the Slaver ship being a Thrall of Rerandis from as long as he can remember and was an empath due to his upbringing within the Ship.

"Lad," Aeron took notice of this and patted the Lad's back before he did something to harm himself, and everyone in the area. "Just Move on. There's nothing You nor I can do."

Ozark's Scowl worsened with hands shaking of rage or something similar before he took a deep breath and loudly sighed.

It was cruel, even for the Slaver's eyes as the people employed under the Auction mistreated the Rare Specimen. It was too much even for Aeron to stomach.

So the duo rushed to what was the Mistress or Madame of the Auction. She wore a silver flamboyant Feathered hat and was decorated with jewels and gold that made her somewhat too bright to look at even with the low lights from the Chandelier. The Lady's dress left much to the imagination only covering her privies which she wore under her oversized coat and held a smoking pipe on her left hand puffing from it before exhaling the smoke towards Ozark.

"Ah, j'adore les yeux de celui-ci~" The French woman exclaimed as she lifted up Ozark's chin to have a better look at the amber-borderline-gold eyes the Young man had. "Combien pour le spécimen? quatre cents? quatre mille pièces d'or?"

Aeron's eyes widened at the Woman's Offer. Four Thousand Gold would set the crew for years if not for life! And for Ozark? The Boy has either won the jackpot for the most generous master or the worst of Luck for an abusive one but Money was Money but so was the Auction. "Mes excuses Madame Français, mais Ozark doit être vendu aux enchères et je ne peux pas autoriser l'échange de la marchandise avant l'événement, n'est-ce pas?"

"Ah, tu es sûr que je ne peux pas te convaincre de me vendre le spécimen avant l'événement?" The Woman pouted like a child being denied a toy."Même pour un million de pièces d'or?"

"I'm Afraid so Madame." Aeron replied with a faux pained look which the French Lady nodded to as she exited the slave warehouse turning to a very confused Ozark."Don'cha worry Lad, I just saved ye from a cut throat business woman! Bargaining event before the Auction, the nerve of some people, Ey?"

'Am I... that prized? If that's the cause I could.'

Ozark began brewing a plan, a dangerous and reckless Gamble. He'll have to play it carefully, for Ara and Mia's Sake.