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"Sold!"
Rigiel watched as his clansmen and others on the losing side of the war were scattered to the winds as spoils for the winners. The century long war that had torn the beastman country apart was now over, with a hefty, bloody price. Lands scarred beyond recognition by wild magic bouts, entire families wiped out, many others left without any able bodies. All while the humans and the other species looked on and laughed at the rampant misery, fueling the fire.
"Next up, a fearsome warrior, ladies and gentlemen!"
He sighed sadly once more as the line became shorter and the auctioneer presented one who'd been part of his personal guard. Rigiel wasn't even sure if the rest were dead or alive. His clan had been betrayed, their vow of neutrality supposedly broken, earning them a swift subjugation. To spare the rest of the already diminute clan, Rigiel had surrendered himself to the invaders, and now here he was, along with the captured fighters.
They'd given him next to nothing to wear, wanting to show off his lean, feminine physique and exotic pelt. Snow leopards were rare enough as it was, and Rigiel stood out among them, with a pure white pelt and silver lined gold spots. All he kept was his circlet, a thin silver braid with black and white pearls interwoven into it, as a mockery of his previous position. On his neck and tail, a runed band locking away his magic. His long black hair had been pulled back into a braid, showing off his turquoise eyes, pink nose, lips and heart shaped face.
After a painfully long wait, his turn arrived.
"And now, our final item of the evening. Of the fallen Deliah clan, Rigiel, the Oracle of the Fates." The audience gasped, while Rigiel maintained the stoic facade, his tail barely moving even. "Who wouldn't want to have this wellbred gem serving them? It is rumoured that the gods blessed the Deliah blood not only with the Sight, but also with the abbility to bear young! Who will earn the right to defile the oracle? Bidding starts now!"
Before Rigiel knew it, the crowd went wild.
"Sold!"
Rigiel watched as his clansmen and others on the losing side of the war were scattered to the winds as spoils for the winners. The century long war that had torn the beastman country apart was now over, with a hefty, bloody price. Lands scarred beyond recognition by wild magic bouts, entire families wiped out, many others left without any able bodies. All while the humans and the other species looked on and laughed at the rampant misery, fueling the fire.
"Next up, a fearsome warrior, ladies and gentlemen!"
He sighed sadly once more as the line became shorter and the auctioneer presented one who'd been part of his personal guard. Rigiel wasn't even sure if the rest were dead or alive. His clan had been betrayed, their vow of neutrality supposedly broken, earning them a swift subjugation. To spare the rest of the already diminute clan, Rigiel had surrendered himself to the invaders, and now here he was, along with the captured fighters.
They'd given him next to nothing to wear, wanting to show off his lean, feminine physique and exotic pelt. Snow leopards were rare enough as it was, and Rigiel stood out among them, with a pure white pelt and silver lined gold spots. All he kept was his circlet, a thin silver braid with black and white pearls interwoven into it, as a mockery of his previous position. On his neck and tail, a runed band locking away his magic. His long black hair had been pulled back into a braid, showing off his turquoise eyes, pink nose, lips and heart shaped face.
After a painfully long wait, his turn arrived.
"And now, our final item of the evening. Of the fallen Deliah clan, Rigiel, the Oracle of the Fates." The audience gasped, while Rigiel maintained the stoic facade, his tail barely moving even. "Who wouldn't want to have this wellbred gem serving them? It is rumoured that the gods blessed the Deliah blood not only with the Sight, but also with the abbility to bear young! Who will earn the right to defile the oracle? Bidding starts now!"
Before Rigiel knew it, the crowd went wild.