All characters and individual material is © Jasmine Becker 2011. All rights Reserved.
Forgotten Realms, the Forgotten Realms logo, Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, the AD&D logo, TSR and the TSR logo are trademarks of TSR, Inc., a subsidiary of Wizards of the Coast, Inc.
This is fan fiction only. This work may not be reproduced for commercial, marketing republishing or copying purposes. The work is sexual in nature and may not be to everyone's individual taste. Please do not continue reading unless 18 years or older.
It's been a while since I wrote something based in the realms. It was fun though, even though some of the subject matter was a bit distasteful. Feel free to let us know what you think!
His vision was blurred and unclear. Things swum in front of his eyes. He could see a few flickering torches that provided illumination of the cave. Trying to focus his senses, he blinked his eyes in rapid succession, actions that made throbbing, searing pain shoot up his temple. Biting back a growl, or perhaps a whimper, he peered at the floor.
Where in nine hells was he?
The smell was something he became aware of quickly, following the blurry vision. It smelled dank, moist and a....strange kind of scent he did not recognize. There was the faint whiff of burning fuel -- wood, coal and perhaps oil. The cave he was in was small, the size of a moderate cell.
Slowly, he put one palm flat on the floor. It touched something cold and moist. He didn't care to know what exactly that was. Just mud, he told himself. The second palm joined the first when he could not push himself up with one hand alone. Slowly, he forced his limp body upward. His head throbbed.
His vision cleared with infinitesimal slowness. The fact that he could not remember his own name bothered him. He was....someone. He was a warrior. He remembered that much, despite the fact that he was nearly naked and weaponless.
It was an ordeal to stand up. The pain quickly got better -- moving seemed to help a little. He stood, legs shaking and looking around the cell. The cold moistness on the floor had not been mud, but water that had spilt from an overturned bowl.
He was glad it was not blood.
It was indeed a cell, where he was caught, but it wasn't exactly well-made. The door was a seemingly shoddy construction of filthy wooden planks, the walls were cave walls of pure stone. He shuffled forward. The wood even felt rotten in some places. He pushed, making the door-thing creak as it moved.
A spear jabbed through one of the cracks with the swiftness of a lighting bolt. The strike struck, grazing his leg and opening a gash the size of a dagger's blade.
"Humanssss sssstay sssstill!" The voice was so garbled by reptilian hisses that it was near-unintelligible.
He cursed loudly, spitting curses in a tongue he first didn't recognize. Elven, he thought after a moment.
I know the elven language.
Why would a warrior know elven? He frowned, but thinking too much and too hard made his head throb again. He shuffled backward, his feet tracking the dirt and filth that caked the floor. The wound in his leg was something he barely felt. He wasn't sure whether that was a bad or a good sign.
He felt himself toppling forward.
A bad sign then.
The ground striking him square in the face didn't even register at first - not until he felt warm liquid pouring down his nose. There was a sudden smell of sweetness that crept it's way into the filth and sourness.
He felt himself drift and thought how nice it would be with a nice mug of finely-spiced wine before darkness claimed him completely.
When he awoke again, he was somewhere else.
More precisely, he was laying on a stone slab, his head cushioned on something soft that felt like grass or moss. Mobility didn't seem possible right then -- trying to move his arms only caused the muscles to twitch.
Magic, he thought, and wondered why he'd come to that conclusion so quickly.
A face came into view, appearing to study him.
"You nearly killed him." The stranger said, her voice echoing slightly in the larger cave. "Be glad you didn't aim higher, or you might have made him...useless to your repulsive master."
Noble. Female. Her tongue spoke of good breeding. She didn't cut words off midway through like a farmer's whelp. Her chin and cheeks were well-formed and slim and her ears were tipped with points.
Some things flooded back to him, memories flowing back like water. One moment his head could not comprehend them, the next moment they fell into place like a blacksmith's puzzle solving itself. Thoughts coalesced and...
"You're an elf. Sun elf. A cleric. I can see your symbol there, by your belt." He tasted blood on his lips and tried I'm a human. A man"
He didn't realize he had spoken his thoughts out loud at first. The statuesque woman gave him an odd look, then looked up at the person she had spoken with earlier, the person he could not see.
"What exactly did you do to him?" She put a graceful, cool hand on his brow and wiped a few strands of filth-ridden hair from his forehead.
"He resssssissssted and wassss ssstruck. A blow to the head!" Came a hissing voice from the dark. It's speaker revealed itself after a moment.
It was a snake, though it moved upright and had two arms, complete with four-digited hands. Two cruel scimitars dripping with green fluid shone in the light from perhaps six torches placed around the cavern.
The elf shook her head. "You are lucky you did not turn him into a drooling ape. Blows to the head can have that consequence sometimes. If you are not more careful...." Under her breath, but audible to him, she murmured "Not that there is that much difference between a human and and ape..."
"Watch your ssslave tongue!" The creature hissed, coiling forward and grasped the Gold elf by her waist, hoisting her high by it's tail. "Sssssometimess I think I ssshould kill you mysssself!"
"Go ahead." The female said coldly, raising her chin. "Sazsroth will make you swallow and chew your own tail until you choke on your own carcass, you worthless worm."
The creature regarded the elf with cold, slitted eyes. Suddenly it threw her, tossing her to the floor.
She landed easily, crouching before rising and brushing herself off with care. "If you do that again, Zarath, I will make sure that you are cooked alive over a roaring fire."
"Threatsssss? Foolish sssslave!"
"Oh? Really?" She smiled, a curve of her lip as sharp as the edge of a blade. The elf moved gracefully, stepping forward until the point of the creature's weapon rested against the fabric of her dress."You think Sazsroth will hesitate to give up a lowly, mewling worm in exchange for keeping the slaves productive?"
There was a long silence. Then finally..."Be quick about hissss healing!" The monster turned and left, it's scales rasping on the floor.
"Ignorant cretin." The woman murmured and dabbed something cool on his brow, nose and the area where he remembered being cut.
"Yuan-ti." He whispered.
"Yes." She had heard him. "They are. Good to see your mind is still working. Have no worries, I will heal your head injury as well." She wiped her delicate fingers on a clean cloth and rolled her sleeves up to her elbows.
"Who are you?" He asked hoarsely.
"I am a slave, like you."
He frowned. "Do slaves speak like...you did to that Yuan-ti?"
She smiled bitterly. "Just because I am valuable does not mean I am no slave. They allow me a certain....freedom as long as I keep things running smoothly, you see." The elf moved closer, inspecting his wounds. Her skin was bronze, a lovely colour complimented by brilliant, golden eyes. Her hair was a cascading fall of red that curled it's way around her neck and head in thick tresses.
Dimly he realized that she had failed to answer his question fully. "Who are you?" He repeated.
"Sylvess Goldenbough, servant of Hanali Celanil." She introduced herself with a self-deprecating smile.
He blinked. "What is a servant of the Fey aspect of love doing in...." He looked around, frowning. "Where in the nine hells are we?"
One of her eyebrows had risen in surprise. "Good to see that your wits are returning." She leaned across him to reach a small bottle that sat on the other side of the slab. "I did not think humans knew of Hanali. Where did you learn?" She unstopped the bottle and spread a translucent oil on her hands, rubbing his leg-wound softly at first -- then harder as though to knead the oil into his muscles.
The pain -- what little there was -- faded away slowly. "I...I....I'm not sure." He admitted. His memory was an odd thing at the moment. Sudden, fleeting images flashed through his head like sparks of spell-light. There was an older man's face that kept returning, as well as a few more things. A woman's face here. Other things.
Sylvess was kneeling between his legs to apply the ointment to cuts on his upper legs, speaking all the while. "Well, you're a slave now, whoever you are, Human. I am not entirely certain where we are myself. All I know is that it is underground and it is far to the surface. Chult, perhaps, beneath the jungle. Where were you, the last thing you remember?"
He frowned and focused. There was a discomfort, a stab of pain, but an image came back to him. "Snow...there was snow." He told her, putting a hand to his temple.
"A Long way then. A very long way. We are definitely not anywhere there's snow, human." She moved up closer, her thin, brown dress brushing his body. "Lay still, I will attempt to heal you." She chanted, a string of syllables he did not understand followed by a prayer he did understand and which beseeched her divine goddess for aid.
A radiant, rosy glow suffused her hands and filled his vision. His ache cleared, his vision sharpened slowly and he felt broken skin and wounds knit themselves together rapidly. He inhaled deeply.
"Better? Any luck remembering anything yet, Human? A name, perhaps?"
"Tar....Taran!" He said triumphantly, feeling like a fool for the moment of pure exultation for remembering his own name.
"Well, Taran. I am flattered by your interest in me, but do not worry. You will have someone to...couple with each night."
She pointed to between his legs, where his cock had risen and was brushing directly against the material covering her pubic region.
He tried to start backward, aghast. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I didn't even notice it." He cleared his throat, still a bit hoarse. Sometimes the thing truly had a mind of it's own. Of course he had noticed how beautiful she was. Not a situation for arousal however, not one bit.
"Flattering." She responded wryly and stepped back. "Have no fear. I am not as xenophobic as my kin is. Had I been, I would not have left Evereska. How do you feel?"
"Better." He muttered. Testing his limbs, flexing muscles and sinew he was surprised when it followed his commands without complaint or agony.
"Excellent." She smiled. Her lips were thin but graceful, a fine pink. She wrinkled her small nose. "You'll need a bath. I'll take you to the slave quarters myself. It's not often that we have the....honour of getting new men." She gave him a bitter smile and helped him to his feet.
"What do you mean?"
Sylvess began walking, giving subtle directions by the way of nods, gestures and low 'mhm's as they walked down a spiralling, poorly-lit cave passage.
"For some reason the Yuan-ti capture mostly women. Bad luck, perhaps. Maybe something to do with how they capture slaves. Usually the poor creatures are no more than farm wives or townsfolk." She glanced back at him "There are six women to a man here, and the monsters are trying to find a way to remedy that." The sun elf explained, gesturing to a large cave passage that seemed to lead into a larger cave.
"I don't quite get what that has to do with me" He frowned.
She cast him a musing glance. "Still a bit slow, perhaps? How are children created?"
"Oh." He cleared his throat.
"Yes." She confirmed. "I suppose there are worse kinds of slavery for men." Her expression darkened. "Still, it makes me wish I was more than an initiate. More than a novice. I could do something, help them." She sighed. "Alas, that is not to be."
"They'll want me to...couple with women here?" He wanted to clarify.
"Well." She smiled. "The others of your kind I have brought down here have named it else wise, but yes. During daytime you will work clearing rock and stone, and at night you will have....other duties."
"Clearing rocks? What for?"
Sylvess sighed, shaking her fiery hair. "I know not. I wish I did, though. For all I know they might simply want to expand their home. Or they may want to delve deeper and awaken some long-lost beast buried beneath the earth. I simply do not know."
They had reached a large portcullis guarded by two of the monstrous, reptilian Yuan-ti. Sylvess stepped forward with a degree of self-assurance he wished he could emulate.
"A new slave has arrived. Let me pass."
"New Ssssslave? Finally! New malesss have been sssscarce." The left snake hissed, studying Taran from head to toe. "Young. And fit. Exssssscellent. He will make a good breeder."
"And more luck with the female ssssslaves." The other guard put in. "You did not prepare the elf-thing sssssufficiently."
Sylvess, who had been stepping forward, halted in her tracks and turned. "Leira? What about her? Where is she? Is she going into labour?"
"Ssssshe issss dead." One of the guards said with a movement of it's shoulders that Taran took for a dismissive shrug.
The Sun elf leapt at the snake with her fists raised, trying to strike it's scaly body with comparatively small elven knuckles.
The large abomination swatted her aside with one hand with a force that knocked her to the floor.
"You....killed her!" She panted, sitting up slowly. "I'll kill you for that. I swear it."
The right guard slithered forward. "You pressssssume to much, sssslave."
It looked as though Sylvess was about to say something, but the guard caught her on the cheek with one of it's powerfully muscled arms, turning what she had been about to say into a muted whimper of agony. It proceeded to strike her again and again, until she rolled up into foetal position, clutching her head with both her slim-fingered hands.
"Know your place sssslave. Yesss, your elven friend sssickened and died during her labour earlier. You did not prepare her enough, it sssssseemssss" It's voice was angry.
"You made her take a half-orc!" The red-headed elf screamed back at the snake "And you refused to let me give her herbs!"
"There are enough femalesss to breed. We will not let you abort any of the offsssspring. Do better next time or we ssshall find sssssomeone to replasssse you." The Yuan-ti threatened darkly, it's cloven tongue darting in and out as it spoke.
Sylvess stood and did not reply. Her left cheek was bruised a dark purple and her dress was torn at the stomach, revealing a smooth, curved stomach with a bellybutton crowned with a metallic ornament. For some reason the elf looked at him oddly.
"It ssssseemss you understand your sssiituation well, human." The other guard said. "You will do well here." It showed teeth in what he supposed to be a smile. "Pick any of the empty women you want tonight. They sssshall not refussssse."
With a gesture, they were motioned through the gate after one of the guards had raised the portcullis. He must have looked perplexed, for Sylvess spoke as soon as they were out of earshot.
"You didn't help me. You didn't even try to." She limped on one leg, grimacing slightly.
His steps faltered. What he had just done struck him like a thirty-pound mallet. He had passively stood by and watched while an inhuman monster beat up a beautiful maiden. His left hand twitched for a weapon -- a sword -- that was not where it should be. He turned back to the closing portcullis.
"I didn't...I mean, I didn't think that..." he ground his teeth.
"You're not fully recovered yet." She stated matter-of-factly. "Regardless, you did the right thing. They wouldn't have beaten you -- they don't beat men since they need you to work" She explained dryly and with a degree of bitterness "but if you start liking one of the women...well...there are over 200 women and only 17 men. If it makes you more compliant, they'll beat any number of them to death."
He stared at her, horrified.
"It has happened."
"Why don't the slaves revolt?"
"Two-hundred slaves against over five-hundred Yuan-ti?" She asked with a head-shake "But be happy. You earned their favour early. You'll get to pick tonight." Her tone was tinged with distaste, though seemingly not for him.
He frowned. "I don't think so. I'm not in the habit of raping women."
She gave a snort. "Raping? Please. The women will be climbing you by the score while you sleep."
"They use torture and magic on them?"
"In a way." She explained. "If a woman is infertile for more than a year after being captured, she is killed. If she's infertile after her first birth for more than two years, she is killed."
He swallowed hard, feeling nausea rise in his stomach. "How long has this been going on?"
She shook her head. "I'm not certain. I only came here three years ago. By then, there were women here who had been here for ten. Some of the children born have already begun to work the caves, though they are only about fifteen. So...perhaps fifteen years."
"And how many women have...." He could not bring himself to finish the sentence.
"Died?" She finished it for him. "About fifty since I came here. Most newly caught slaves who seemed...infertile."
He shook his head in disbelief.
"It is too bad you are no hero." She gave a small smile. "We could use one about now. Ten women dead in the past moon's turn...and now..." She shook her head and wiped a tear from her dark cheek.
"You knew the woman who died today?" He guessed
She nodded curtly. "She was part of the....the group I was caught with."
"I'm sorry." What else could he say?
"We're here. Welcome to the pens." She sighed and gestured expansively to the surroundings they had entered, a large cave set with torches, beds of straw and blankets and a variety of other things.
What struck Taran first though were the number of women. They sat in clusters, talking in hushed voices. Some played a game with stones they had gathered from the floor. One middle-aged woman -- most of the others seemed young -- was sewing a coarse, woollen garment.
He glanced around, mentally counting perhaps one-hundred-sixty. Most seemed human , though he spotted the occasional smaller race as well in the form of a halfling, gnome or dwarf. There was a woman almost his height with shoulders as wide as his -- a half-orc he guessed. Most of them stopped what they were doing when they passed. Some of the women looked hopeful, some hateful. Some looked utterly hopeless. Most of the gazes went to him, but many looked at Sylvess as well.
The mixture of emotions there was interesting.
Some of the women looked as though they wanted nothing more then to leap forward and tear into the sun elf's throat. One particular of them, a dwarf with the bulk of an ale barrel pounded a clenched fist into an open palm while glaring at her.
Others still looked as though they were about to bow or kneel before her.
Sylvess took it all in stride, never looking at one of them too long. They moved through a hushed crowd, sets of eyes glaring and gazing.
A portion of the large cave was divided into more spacious sections, almost like private areas but with actual beds -- twenty-five of them. Sylvess motioned him to one that looked very much untouched with a clean-seeming -- if coarse -- woollen sheet on a bed with wooden frames. It looked as though it had come from a farmers house.