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Gods be right damned, this stung like nobody's business.
He musta been in the rusty metal cage for at least a week now, his hands and legs bound with some seriously hardy rope and his body curled up on the rocky floor of the cave he was imprisoned in. He'd been trekking through a snug little valley at the base of a mountain, not really headed towards anywhere in particular. That's the kind of person Cassidy Ackerson was, after all; He didn't like living with a destination. Maybe that's why he wasn't too torn up with a band of raiders that had been camping up on the slopes started beelining towards him.
Granted, he coulda fought em'. He'd probably have busted a few heads too, but there were too many of the guys for him to handle, and he had come quietly. They'd bound him and tossed him in this cage, tucked neatly into the back of the cave they used for storage. At least, that's what the barrels and crates told him. At least they'd had the decency to feed him, if you could consider bread scraps and a half-cup of water a meal. He wasn't worried about himself though. He was worried about the rest of his things; They'd taken the only valuable he had: His sword, Damascus. It was all he had left of his home, and he'd be damned if he was going to rot in here and let them sell it off to some collector.
On a brighter note, his cat Mar had gotten away. She'd been a stray that Cassidy had picked up about half a year ago, and he was awfully fond of the black tabby now. Of course, the raiders had no interest in a feline anyways.
A rustling at the mouth of the cave broke him out of his thoughts.
One of the raiders, his body coated with a thin layer of dirt and his outfit composed of poached furs, hobbled into the cave with a small wooden plate of bread scraps and a cup of water. Ah 'twas Olaf, as he'd taken to calling the gent, his personal steward.
"Olaf! Wonderful to see you in good spirits today! Yesterday you tripped on the incline into the cave didn't you? Did that boo-boo heal up?"
"Olaf" opened the cage he was tied in, and wasted no time in delivering a swift kick to Cassidy's ribs, forcing all of the air out of his lungs and making him curl up tighter. "Oof-uck! Okay... point made." He coughed. The plate of scraps was placed where his face rested, so that he would have to eat without his hands. The cup of water was a similar story; He had to be creative with it.
It didn't look like Olaf was done with him though; He was already drawing his foot back for another kick when a loud sound rang out from outside. Olaf turned, and Cassidy stretched his body to try and peek out of the cave mouth. Gods, this floor was wet. He could feel it seeping through his jacket and shirt. He was sure he had dirt in his fire red hair as well.
"Olaf." Cassidy muttered, "Aren't you gonna go help your buddies out?"
Olaf raced out of the cave to investigate, not bothering to close the cage, which Cassidy now made an attempt to squirm out of. What on earth was going on out there? it sounded like a fight...
Gahesznem
He musta been in the rusty metal cage for at least a week now, his hands and legs bound with some seriously hardy rope and his body curled up on the rocky floor of the cave he was imprisoned in. He'd been trekking through a snug little valley at the base of a mountain, not really headed towards anywhere in particular. That's the kind of person Cassidy Ackerson was, after all; He didn't like living with a destination. Maybe that's why he wasn't too torn up with a band of raiders that had been camping up on the slopes started beelining towards him.
Granted, he coulda fought em'. He'd probably have busted a few heads too, but there were too many of the guys for him to handle, and he had come quietly. They'd bound him and tossed him in this cage, tucked neatly into the back of the cave they used for storage. At least, that's what the barrels and crates told him. At least they'd had the decency to feed him, if you could consider bread scraps and a half-cup of water a meal. He wasn't worried about himself though. He was worried about the rest of his things; They'd taken the only valuable he had: His sword, Damascus. It was all he had left of his home, and he'd be damned if he was going to rot in here and let them sell it off to some collector.
On a brighter note, his cat Mar had gotten away. She'd been a stray that Cassidy had picked up about half a year ago, and he was awfully fond of the black tabby now. Of course, the raiders had no interest in a feline anyways.
A rustling at the mouth of the cave broke him out of his thoughts.
One of the raiders, his body coated with a thin layer of dirt and his outfit composed of poached furs, hobbled into the cave with a small wooden plate of bread scraps and a cup of water. Ah 'twas Olaf, as he'd taken to calling the gent, his personal steward.
"Olaf! Wonderful to see you in good spirits today! Yesterday you tripped on the incline into the cave didn't you? Did that boo-boo heal up?"
"Olaf" opened the cage he was tied in, and wasted no time in delivering a swift kick to Cassidy's ribs, forcing all of the air out of his lungs and making him curl up tighter. "Oof-uck! Okay... point made." He coughed. The plate of scraps was placed where his face rested, so that he would have to eat without his hands. The cup of water was a similar story; He had to be creative with it.
It didn't look like Olaf was done with him though; He was already drawing his foot back for another kick when a loud sound rang out from outside. Olaf turned, and Cassidy stretched his body to try and peek out of the cave mouth. Gods, this floor was wet. He could feel it seeping through his jacket and shirt. He was sure he had dirt in his fire red hair as well.
"Olaf." Cassidy muttered, "Aren't you gonna go help your buddies out?"
Olaf raced out of the cave to investigate, not bothering to close the cage, which Cassidy now made an attempt to squirm out of. What on earth was going on out there? it sounded like a fight...
Gahesznem
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