Thread: Slave Market

The travelling folks in the local area of the Slave Market had been mostly normal and mostly peaceful people. Since he starter running errands for the Shop Keeper shortly after graduating out of slave labor, Triston had always ran into and interacted with the comfy native humans in the area. They still remember his shy blue eyes and golden hair. But now, even his rare laughter and smile is completely shrouded by his hood's shadow spell. A neat enchantment that made dealing with the Slave Market's only repo man even more ominous. A sense of foreboding pain and silent agony would begin to dwell, even in the hearts of innocent citizens as he stepped by them on his way to the Slave Market. The decorative chains on his mostly fitting leather armor had began to chime with his brutish steps. He didn't have to be silent among the welcoming chatter of the street folk. In truth, he never really had to be silent while he was on the hunt either. The distance he could shoot an accurate arrow with this longbow on his back was quite breath taking. There wouldn't be much of a need to creep up on a target with a thick arrow pinning their foot to the ground. The repossession profits doubled when the slave didn't need to be cut or pierced, and Triston was more than capable of doing this. He just didn't want his seemingly unrivalled archery to go to waste. That, and he found a thrill from inflicting that sort of pain. He'd probably kill the little fucktoys if he could get paid to hunt them for sport. But, sadly, this wouldn't be the case. Not that he was too bummed out about it, the jiggling pouch of very expensive currency pieces tied to his waist was the product of very exciting job. Who could really complain about being paid to sort of enjoy themselves? This pouch was more than enough to purchase a companion for Triston. Something he never really considered doing before since he was saving to afford a number of other luxuries. But, with his desire to remain hooded and complicated fetishes, no slutty bar maid was going happily return home with him. Especially not with his almost emotion-roting aura that poluted the air around his powerful form. No, Triston was sure of his decision to make a purchase in the Slave Market. Though, he wasn't all too sure which kind of slave he wanted. He could make use of any of them. As his march down the memorized, and chatty street would come to an end, the haunting visage of the Repo man would peer down at Karin. Without so much as a single detail of his appearence to focus on and distract her eyes from the familiar, ghastly archer, he was sure Karin would try to look away. It was an interesting thought, given what little he knew about her cockiness. He also wondered if he scared her, if any of his victims ever showed her the poorly healing hole in their foot. Triston didn't look too Karin's Master out of disinterest. Had he bothered to look, he'd give the established imperial Mage a nod. The two weren't on bad terms. Triston just wanted to continue his path too the Slave Market, and so he did. Passing the two without any further pause as he wandered around a bit inside the Slave Market. Just like home for Triston, he often visited the Shop Keeper for petty shit. Either looking to pick up a quick job or just past time. Triston stopped before Sam's cell and just looked at the smaller, broken little man. The malicious gears in Triston's head beginning to turn. So much interest had been summoned that Abbadon's presence had been completely ignored.