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*With his newly acquired sword in hand, Duskborn looked down upon his once laughing master. He still couldn't believe that he had done it. Nor, could he believe that such a huge sword could ever be so light or easy to use. He tried to play it back in his mind but the details we all so fuzzy...

Mater had just finished dinner with the new client and was showing him the new girls that he had just purchased a few weeks ago in another town. Duskborn and his father Dusk never knew where they had come from but they knew that Master's tent was were they lived and died at Master's whim. The client was not interested in girls and wanted to look at the men. "Not the boys or young men because they might get hurt in the struggle of things...", the client said to Master.

When Duskborn and the other young men and boys returned he was shocked to see his father free from his chains and tied to the crossbar in the center of the tent. That punishment was reserved for those slaves who went against Master or insulted clients. What had his father done to deserve this? Master had his favorite whip in hand and had already given father a few lashes before the others had returned. The blood slowly falling to the floor from the jagged gashes that Master had caused was just too much!

Duskborn looked to the wall behind Master's chair and saw the huge blade that Master had taken from an old man years ago when Duskborn was still too small for chains and so was held with leather thongs to his father. He had never seen Master use it he seemed wary of it for some reason. There is was now seeming to call to him; it was only a step away from him right now. He need only reach out and grab it.

The lash fell once, twice, again and again until Duskborn snapped and in a fury unknown in his whole life he ripped himself away from his chain and grabbed the sword and before the next lash fell he had cleanly removed his former Master's head from his hard and enormous shoulders...

As the blood spray slowly ebbed into a dieing rithim of the last flutters of his master's failing heart, Duskborn realized two things. His father had died before any of them had come back into Master's tent, and that the other slaves in the tent were bowing to him in awe and fear.

"We are free... I have freed us all.... but some of us still are enslaved by men like Master... no he is not master anymore! i guess that makes me Master now... NEVER!! I shall never be as that man was! If you want follow but I shall not force you to do anything ever! I claim only this blade and enough of his gold to take me as far as I need to gain the power to end this life for all of our people!"

*Shakes his head at those who run fleeing from the tent and then drags his former master's lifeless body out of the tent and kicks the head out in front of him. He then takes the whip and lashes it around the sign out front as well as the head and leaves it as a warning to all who would try to retake the slaves*

Those of you who have stayed, I thank you. WE must rid this tent of all that once marked us as slaves. But before we do that we must give Dusk a proper sending from this wretched place.

*Duskborn removes the bindings from Dusk and pulls the tablecloth clear of the table and gently lays Dusk on top of it. Then after ceremoniously wrapping him up and digging a grave for him. Unceremoniously drops Dusk in the grave and covers him quickly*

I don't ask you to follow me to the end but please help me in any way you can to end this life for others.

Lets go and see if there are any others like ourselves that need freeing from these b@stards that call themselves masters! scream

Duskborn found himself following the coast. It was a few weeks before his exploration took him all the way to the city of Yane. Luckily there was one in his small band of ex-slave followers that new the terrain of this area well and new how to survive the area in between, so the actual trip was uneventful.

((Note: This will be an actual RP, not a narrative. So if you want to explore the city of Yane, you'll actually have to tell me and make rolls. A roll to casually search is awareness+perception, to actively search is investigation+perception and the difficulty is lower.))

Your rag-tag group finds the marketplace. There are plenty of traders of all sorts. You notice a man who is obviously a slave trader, herding along a group of men, quite rudely. There is also one woman with them. She's walking rather timidly, and this angers the slave trader. He yells at her and strikes her, then raises his hand to strike again.

((Roll compassion if you don't plan to act. If you get a single success, spend a willpower or act.))

The man turns around and looks like he's trying to come up with an objection to your command, but fails, and instead stands there and stammers.

The woman backs away from him and hides behind one of the men in the group, who looks at you with a bit of uncertainty.

Your anima has started to glow, and you're calling significant attention to yourself. You hear someone shout "It's an Anathema! Get the Satrap."