Lashel the Wrath of An Immortal

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Chapter 1

Slowly, the boy opened his eyes. He was shackled, chained, bound, in every
sense. His eyes had a tight blindfold, his hands cruely knotted behind him,
his legs shackled, his neck carried a large weight and chains wrapped around
his slender torso to hender him further. Lashel was a young man from the
southwestern mountains where he had just lived with his family. He was taken
prisoner by the Jaette to be a slave and was on his was to Sitran. The
procession filed down the cliffs and he ended up within. The monotonous toll
of everyday life surrounded him as he slowly became accustomed to the life of
a slave. At first he was beaten horribly for speaking out and fighting back.
Long scars branded every part of his body.

***A few years later***

Lashen sat in his chains with a small pick at his side as he ate his
dinner. He was intently peering at the four jaette guards who were eating
their rations as well. Over time he had learned to study their face, their
expressions, the way their eyes moved and roved. When he was younger he did
not do such, he simply asked whoever was closest..usually the response was a
morningstar to the jaw. Now, however, he had learned that by studying which
of the Jaette were in the best of mood, or which was in good humor he could
play them to his strength.
He learned that when one of the Jaette had had a good night, bedding a
particularly attractive wench or getting extra rations, they were more likely
to be willing to lend an ear to this small human slave when he wished
something. Likewise, Lashel learned it was to his advantage if he was
completely silent nearly all other times. If the Slavers knew nothing of him,
they held nothing against him and therefore when he did speak up they had no
reason to beat him. As such, Lashel was all but a mute, and when he did speak
he was careful to remove all emotion and be nothing but a stoney voice. This
made it appear that he was not passionate, not full of fire. The slavers
could not pinpoint a mood upon him and could not beat him for having too much
spirit, or for mocking them, or for trying to defy them. A lack of sound and
emotion were key to the best life a slave could have. In this way, he played
the slavers to his will. They had no reason to hate him and he was able to
use his keen senses to determine which course of action was the best.

One day, a few very odd things happened. First of all, a band of wild druids
charged within, all wood-elves yelling a screaming. He thought they were far
too passionate. However, he was intrigued by this so called Ancient Fury that
they called upon and the fury trashed the Mines, stones caved in. In the
havoc, Lashel escaped. Later he chased down one of the wood-elves and
questioned him about the Ancients. He learned of them all, but decided that
the ways of Lyristeon, the deceptive ways the Imp taught were the way to go.
This way he could follow his own personal agenda, and use his learned
abilities to best benefit him.


Furthermore, his days of slavery had bestowed him with a hatred, though it
was rarely seen. He despised their way, their tyrannical foolery. They were
too open, too flamboyant. Everything they represented was too..wrong. He
decided he would seek the Outlanders in due time.

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