Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20160406152407/@comment-24141785-20160407022551

One month ago... Gabriel had prepared his supplies, filling up his backpack with everything he needed to make his own camp. For the past three months, he had been making frequent and regular out of the compound into the wilds of Valenwood, clearing the areas of bandits, thugs, remnants of the Legion and - at the beginning - anyone. At first, it was to cope with his mental trauma he was suffering deeply back then, keeping himself on the verge of becoming nothing more than a savage beast. But, as he continued to do it - and he started to become better - he found it more enjoyable than just sitting on his ass. As the months progressed, he had started to see Shakti less, fueled by a constant feeling of separation between the two. He felt as if they had lost the spark they once had and now, after being let down so many times, he started to believe this relationship wouldn’t work anymore - although he would never lose her as a friend. Only time would tell what would happen between the two... He had spent the majority of his time around camp with the only people he could consider ‘friends’ instead. Gabriel had noticed how absent Zaydate had been, but due to him often seeing her stay isolated and quiet, he didn't believe something was wrong - although that didn't stop him from checking in every once-in-a-while to make sure she was okay. The Breton stepped out into the woodland, glancing back one more time to his surroundings before heading out onto his makeshift path, trekking himself beyond his current ‘border’...-- had devoured the area surrounding Gabriel, only creeping up to the border of light which the fire illuminated. The waning moon rose high above him, casting down a judging and cruel look upon the Breton as he tried to cook some meat. It had been seven days since he initially left camp, and although he would usually be heading back by now, he hadn't covered enough ground to make the trip worthwhile. Gabriel turned over the beefy and bloodied leg of the tiger, huffing to himself as he triumphuntlylooked at his meal: taking down a pissed off tiger wasn't an easy achievement. Glancing up into the sky, he heaved heavily to himself. Although being out here was great, especially to someone whose main priorities around camp was shoving his thumbs up his ass. But there was a void inside him every time he left, and he always wondered why he didn't stay out here longer. Until the effect kicked in, of course. He took a bite of the leg, munching it happily as he glanced around. Every time he left was like a camping trip - only minus the alcohol and the people to share it with. As he leaned in for another bite, a faint sound could be heard amongst the wind. Now, to any normal pilgrim, it would easily be mistaken as the rustling of grass, and nothing more. But Gabriel was very experienced in this area, and the faint rustle had sent chills down his spine - warning him immediately that something was wrong. Keep cool… keep your breaths consistent… The Breton stopped whatever he was doing, obviously alerting the mysterious intruder as the rustling came to an erupt halt. He slowly reached for his dagger, sliding it out of its holster with ease. As he rose to his feet he cautiously looked around, disturbed by the fact that whoever - or whatever - it was had the advantage over him. he heard the sound of rustling continue, he took a deep breath - sighing heavily to himself. In a swift and opportunistic movement, the Breton spun around and hurled his dagger towards the imposter. The figure appeared to be bipedal, and the blade sunk itself deep into its shoulder. Fuckin’ bandit… trying to get the advantage on me. Closing in to finish what he started, Gabriel drew out his sword - dragging it across the soil. He was a few metres away from the man, rising his blade above his head as he prepared to cast it down when he heard scruffling behind him. Glancing behind him, he saw the shape of a club collide with his face, sending him straight down onto the ground in a swift and damaging move as his vision blacked - his last thought of anger... … ''Z…? Jude…? Fal…?Anyone…?'' Gabriel slowly opened his eyes, straining to keep himself from falling back into a slumber. He was tied to a nearby tree, having a perfect view of the two unwelcome guests. He groaned heavily, lifting his head up to get a better view. “Oh, look like our man of the hour has finally awoke!” The blurred figure strode towards him, wielding what appeared to be a shrouded mace. As his vision started to focus, he got a clear picture of who his captor was. He was an Argonian, slightly taller than average for his kind. He had a pale green pigment to his skin, and his face had a skull-like war-paint smeared across it. In his right hand he held an glistering ebony mace, and his left shoulder had a bandage wrapped around it. “Oh, don't worry about it: it'll be fine.” The Lizard shrugged, “No hard feelings about what you did… Well, at least not anymore.” The Breton glanced away from the Argonian, realising he had been staring at the injury he had caused him: he didn't want to comply with any conversation these people wanted. He wanted to get out of here... “Ah, I see what you're doing.” He uttered, “Giving us the old silent-treatment, heh? Well, that isn't much of an issue: we can still explain this to you.” The Lizard took a seat near Gabriel, settling himself down under another tree. “This isn't anything personal, y’know? We’re taking your shit, but we aren't taking all your shit…” “Then why the fuck are you doing this?” The Argonian glanced thoughtfully at the fire for a few seconds, trying to perfect an answer that would be simple enough for him to understand, “We’re on the run from people who aren't...very fucking nice, to put it simply. And as for why we don't take everything? I guess it's because we aren't assholes.” “Fuck off.” “We aren't assholes.” The Lizard retorted, “We would’ve killed you otherwise.” Gabriel didn't bother responding after that. He was tired and pissed, angry over his helplessness. These assholes were taking whatever they wanted, and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. As he continued to sit there in silence, the Argonian next to him shuffled, waiting for his Bosmeri lady-friend to finish looting. “Name’s Sakeei… Sakeei Carmeth.” He said, after what felt like an eternity of silence, And you are…?” Silence filled the air for a few more seconds… “And you are…?” “Gabriel. Gabriel Velaette.” The Breton harshly responded, glaring down the Lizard for a few moments. The air grew stale between the two, and silence once again filled the air…I can make it… I can make it… They need me…''I can make it...One month later...‘And to believe, I was actually foolish enough to believe they would let me go. They had disappeared that night, and by the following dawn I had realised I had been setup. By the time I had awoken, I found myself at the clutches of a slaver group in the nearby area! It's been a month since they’ve captured me, and it's scaring me…The stale air has become, familiar. The blood-soaked cages have become something I'm used to. I don't ever know if I will make it out of this… I don't ever know if I will see those I care about one...last...ti''…’ Gabriel couldn't even finish the last word as he shuffled inside his cooped cage, not having the strength to believe his end could be met. He still wanted to live a life worth living, he still wanted to have one last night of uproar - having the best goddamn fucking time of his life! But that was stripped away from him by one Argonian and his Bosmer girlfriend, and now he was betrayed once again… The Breton glanced around the room he was in - not like he needed to familiarise himself with it. The slavers had settled themselves inside one of the old castles, mostly trading their prisoners there and then. For some odd reason, they had kept hold off Gabriel and five others - using them more as their own slaves than their wares. “Unlock the cages! Usual schedule people, let's go!” Gabriel stepped out of the cage, sliding the journal under his vest. He gave a passing glance to the slaver, making his way out onto the courtyard. The light seeped into his eyes, blinding him temporarily as he adjusted to the brightness. Most of the evening consisted of staying put and staying quiet in a dark and downright inhumane situation - anyone who tried to escape would be killed almost instantly. He made his way towards the crumbled wall, exchanging awkward glances with the other slaves. They all seemed… shifty, and he couldn't help but feel something was off… Though he didn't have much interaction with the other slaves, as they were kept separate from him - probably because he would be the best one to rally them up. He picked up one of the nearby stone bricks, slamming it down of the crumbled wall. Gabriel was tasked with trying to rebuild a portion of the wall, and that was no easy task. I went from being a killer...to being a slave…I just want things to go back to normal... As the Breton readied himself to mold the next brick in, bickering could be faintly heard behind him. Arguments frequently brewed between slave and master, but they never escalated any further than that. Probably someone trying to be a Hero… Poor sod’s in for fun. As he continued to layer down the brick, the once faint arguing became louder. As it became louder, it became more obnoxious - reaching the point where Gabriel had left his position and was making his way towards where the argument was born.Some fucking cretin is pushing his luck! As he came closer, he saw what appeared to be a shiv slide from under the slave’s hand as he inched closer to the slaver, who was now harassing the women. Before Gabriel could even react, the shiv went straight into the slaver’s chest, unleashing the most terrifying and bloodcurdling screech he had ever heard.Oh...fuck! Seeing his chance to escape, the Breton made a sprint towards the crumbling wall, desperate to escape this horrorfying and painful reality. Glancing back one more time, he saw as the slavers overwhelmed the slaves - slicing them down as if they were nothing more than butter… Those sons of bitches gave me a chance... He tried to stop thinking about it, he didn't want to. He just wanted to return back home, to embrace the world he knew… He wanted to reunite with his family…- The sun rose above the Breton as he made his way back through the thick forests, his hand shaking with anxiety. What was supposed to be a simple trip turned out to be one of the most torturous and cruel experiences he had ever witnessed, on-par with everything that happened at the fort. He had realised a lot about himself that he didn't know before. He wasn't as strong as he had thought, crumbling under the fear of dying an isolated and lonely death. Those slavers... had broken him down into an emotional wreck, and he was pissed at himself for not being able to handle it - he suffered because he let himself suffer. He had gotten much better over the three months before it happened. He had taken three steps forward to becoming a better person, and 6 steps backwards. Everything that had happened over the month had been how fault, and he had paid the price for letting his emotions interfere... No more mercy... No more chances... I will make sure this never happens to anyone here! ''I will kill anyone that stands in our way! I will make the calls no one can make! For my people... For my Family... For everyone I care about!'' Anyone nearby could notice that the very familiar Breton was appearing from the clearing, looking as tired and exhausted as ever. He was wearing a dirty grey vest and trousers, and he came in looking anxious and relieved. How he had been gone for so long, and how he had survived, would be an entire mystery on its own if anyone saw him. He looked drastically different from when he left one month ago, to say the least... “I'm… I'm home.”