The smell hit harder the deeper we went.
We followed him deeper into the tent, past rows of cages and too many eyes—some watching, some not, some already gone. The air grew heavier with every step, thick with heat, sweat, and iron. Desperation clung to everything.
For a moment, the thought crossed my mind—just grab him, drag him across his own floor and end it here.
My HUD flickered.
Tier 2 guards.
Tier 4 trader.
The thought died as quickly as it came. Not here. Not like this.
“Here we are,” the trader said, turning back to us.
He spread his hands wide, rings catching the torchlight.
“How about these… More than muscle, my friend. Foundations. Pick your weight—and your walls—wisely.”
His eyes flicked between me and Kit, measuring.
Three cages stood apart from the rest.
Deliberate. Contained.
The trader stepped aside.
“As promised,” he said. “Strong types. No cowards here.”
His gaze lingered on us.
“Take your time.”
The trader stepped back, hands clasped behind him.
“Three kinds of protection,” he said. “Brute force. Silent discipline. Or… something more personable.”
His gaze lingered on me.
“Each one costs. Coin… and trouble.”
These weren’t like the others.
Not the hollow eyes. Not the broken posture.
These were fighters. Held together. Ready.
Not for rescue. For an exit.
“So. One at a time… or all three?”
A tall half-drow sat cross-legged.
Dark indigo skin, faint scars, short white hair. Violet eyes tracked us with controlled precision. Even without armor, she held herself like a knight.
Her sword-hand twitched once.
“…What do you want from me?” she asked quietly. “You don’t look like slavers.”
Kit stiffened beside me.
A black-furred tabaxi leaned back against the bars, relaxed on the surface, alert underneath. Green-gold eyes half-lidded. Tail flicking slow.
A cracked wooden practice sword rested between her knees.
“Mmm,” she said. “So you’re looking for a warrior.”
A faint smirk. “Bold. Let’s hear it, lovebirds.”
Kit’s ears flicked back. She stayed silent.
The Wolfkin stood.
Broad-shouldered. Solid. Silver-gray fur, ice-blue eyes. Presence alone carved space around her.
Hands resting on the bars. A small iron tag hung from the latch—numbers scratched deep, and beneath them, a name worn thin by handling: raka.
“You looking for someone to carry your shield,” she asked, voice low and steady, “or guard your back?”
A beat.
“Or just here to look?”
Kit’s fingers tightened slightly around my arm.
The trader chuckled behind us.
“You get what you pay for. Each one’s seen blood.”
“But only one’ll bleed for you. Call me when you’ve chosen.”
“We will,” I said.
The Greasy Slave Trader shrugged, snapped his fingers, and the guards pulled back.
I stepped forward, stopping just short of the cages.
Kit moved with me, quiet, watchful.
I gave a short bow.
“My name is Vincent Locke,” I said. “This is Kit.”
I held their gaze.
“We’re not slavers, We’re adventurers. Fighters. We’ve been through enough to know what breaks a team—and what holds it together.”
A breath.
“We’re looking for someone strong. Someone loyal. Someone who wants a place with us… not a leash.”
Kit nodded once, then spoke—softer, but just as certain.
“We won’t promise you freedom. Not yet. But we will promise honesty.”
Her eyes moved between them.
“If you stand with us… fight with us… live with us… it won’t be in chains.”
The space settled.
Then—
She rose slowly, every movement controlled. Even in a cage, she carried herself like a knight.
“You want someone who won’t falter,” she said. “You’ll have that.”
Her eyes locked onto mine.
“But I won’t be owned.”
A pause.
“I’ve done what I had to survive. I never broke. If I stand for something again… I need to believe in it.”
Her voice dipped slightly.
“You said you carry weight. What kind?”
She stayed where she was, lounging against the bars, but nothing about her was relaxed now. The wooden practice sword tapped idly in a slow rhythm.
“Nice speech,” she said. “Feels like the start of something dramatic.”
A faint smirk.
“So let’s skip ahead.”
Her gaze flicked between me and Kit.
“Who are you when things go bad?”
A small tilt of her head.
“Do you hold together… or do you become something worse?”
Her tail flicked once, attention lingering on Kit.
She didn’t shift much. Didn’t need to.
A single nod.
“That’s more truth than I’ve heard in a long time.”
Her voice was low. Steady.
“I had a pack once. I lost it.”
No hesitation.
“I won’t lose another.”
Her hands rested on the bars. “If you choose me, I’ll stand in front. I’ll take what comes.”
A breath.
“But I want something in return.”
Not sharp. Just certain.
“Not just survival. Not just orders.”
Her gaze held mine. “I want purpose.”
A quiet beat.
“What are you fighting for?”
“I’m a sorcerer,” I said. “Kit’s a rogue. Light on her feet. Sharp where it counts.”
A breath.
“We fight for family. Not blood—not always. The kind you find. The kind you choose.”
I glanced at Kit, then back to them.
“We fight for belonging. For the thrill when it finds us. For the glory, when it’s there.”
A faint shrug.
“And yeah… we take the loot, too.”
A small pause.
“But mostly? We fight for each other.”
Kit’s tail flicked once, a small smile touching her lips.
“And if you earn your place,” she said, quiet but certain, “you’ll be one of us. No stage names. No masks. No one giving orders from behind a curtain.”
Her eyes held steady.
“Just firelight, steel… and trust.”
She straightened slightly, something easing in her expression. Not a smile—just the edge of one.
“Family,” she said. “That’ll take getting used to.”
A breath.
“But I like the sound of it.”
Her gaze held mine.
“Just don’t expect me to sing.”
She rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow, clearly more interested now.
“Loot, danger, chosen family…” she said. “That’s a better pitch.”
Her eyes flicked between me and Kit.
“And you’re right about one thing.”
A small smirk.
“I don’t smell lies.”
She tapped the practice blade lightly against the bars.
“If you’re serious, I’ll make your shield wall purr.”
A wink toward Kit.
Kit raised an eyebrow. Didn’t bite. But she didn’t look away either.
She stepped forward, hands resting on the bars, strength held in check rather than displayed.
“That’s the right answer.”
Her voice stayed low. Certain.
“I don’t need freedom.”
A beat.
“I need meaning.”
Her eyes locked with mine.
“If it’s truth you’re offering… I’ll bleed beside you.”
The moment settled.
Not captives now.
Choices.
Warriors.
Kit leaned in slightly, her voice low enough that only I could hear.
“We could build something with any of them.”
A small pause.
“Let’s see who’s serious,” I said quietly and returned to Kit.
“There’s something you need to know before any of you make a choice.”
The air shifted. Not fear — focus.
Kit stayed beside me, arms folded, silent but watching.
“I’m a Harem-Master by subclass,” I continued. “If you’re chosen — and if you choose us — you’ll take part in a binding ritual. It’s permanent. It’s powerful. And it’s not something you walk away from.”
Their reactions came fast. Different.
She crossed her arms slowly, eyes narrowing just slightly.
“You’re direct. Good.”
Her voice stayed cool. Measured.
“A bond like that… what does it make us?”
A tilt of her head.
“Servants? Tools? Or something else?”
She wasn’t recoiling — she was evaluating.
“If it’s permanent… I need to know what I’m giving up.”
A beat.
“And what I’m getting back.”
The tabaxi hummed softly, tail curling in a slow arc.
“Permanent,” she said. “That’s a bold word.”
A faint grin.
“But ‘submit’ can mean a lot of things.”
Her eyes flicked between me and Kit.
“I’ve followed blades before. None of them called it sacred.”
A pause.
“So tell me — what does this give us?”
Her gaze sharpened.
“Power? Connection?”
A tilt of her head.
“Or is this all about you?”
She stayed quiet longer.
When she spoke, it carried weight.
“A bond like that matters.”
Her stance was grounded. Unmoving.
“I’ve lived leashed.”
A breath.
“I won’t again… unless I choose it.”
Her eyes flicked briefly to Kit, then back to me.
“But if it’s real — if it makes us stronger… makes us yours, and you ours…”
Her voice steadied.
“I’ll walk into it.”
A beat.
“But I want the truth. No riddles.”
I gave Kit the nod.
She stepped forward without hesitation.
Her voice was soft — but it carried.
“He calls himself Master,” she said. “But not the way you think.”
Her eyes moved between them.
“He doesn’t break people. He builds them.”
“He doesn’t take control. He asks for it. And if you give it… he treats it like a vow.”
“We’re not slaves.”
Her voice sharpened slightly.
“We stand with him. Fight with him. Bleed with him.”
“And he never stops earning it.”
Her gaze softened.
“The bond isn’t a chain. It’s a connection.”
“It makes us stronger. Braver. More ourselves — not less.”
A breath.
“He’ll see you. As you are.”
“And if you choose it… you’ll never stand alone again.”
Her chin lifted.
“I chose him.”
A quiet, fierce note.
“I’d choose him again.”
And for a moment… so did I.
I’d heard her say pieces of that before. In fragments. In the quiet moments between fights.
But not like that.
Not clear. Not certain. Not in front of others.
She hadn’t just followed me into this.
She’d claimed it.
Claimed us.
My hand brushed hers, just slightly—enough that only she’d feel it.
Not a show.
Just… there.
Her eyes narrowed again, thoughtful now.
“And if we disagree?”
A beat.
“If we push back?”
Her voice stayed level.
“What does that cost?”
She blinked slowly, something softer slipping through.
“You say we stay ourselves.”
A quiet breath.
“…Does it help with the quiet?”
Her tail flicked once.
“Or do you just learn to ignore it together?”
She leaned forward slightly.
“I protect what matters.”
Her voice carried quiet intensity.
“If I give you that… I need to know it goes both ways.”
A pause.
“That you’ll stand for us.”
Her eyes held mine.
“Not just when it’s easy.”
Kit went still beside me.
Now it was mine.
I gave her the smallest nod.
Then stepped forward addressing each of them in turn.
The Dark Elf
“I don’t want obedience,” I said. “I want people who stand beside me when things go wrong.”
“The bond doesn’t erase you.”
“It sharpens you.”
“If you stand with us, you won’t be used. You won’t be discarded.”
“Disagreement isn’t punished.”
My voice lowered.
“Breaking trust is.”
Her expression shifted — the first crack in her armor.
The Tabaxi Woman
“Yes,” I said. “It helps.”
“It doesn’t erase what you’ve been through.”
“But it gives you something to stand in.”
A glance toward Kit.
“You won’t wake up alone.”
“You won’t carry everything by yourself.”
“You’ll still be sharp.”
“But you won’t be alone with it.”
Her tail stilled.
Her eyes softened — just a fraction.
The Wolfkin
“I don’t expect loyalty for free.”
“If you stand in front of me, I earn that every day.”
“The bond isn’t comfort.”
“It’s commitment.”
A step closer.
“If you fight for me…”
“I fight for you.”
No hesitation.
“Every time.”
I straightened.
Kit at my side. Solid. Steady.
“I’ve said what I needed to say.”
A breath.
“Now it’s your turn.”
My gaze moved between them.
“If you’re waiting for freedom and nothing else… I won’t stop you.”
A pause.
“But if something here feels real…”
My voice settled.
“Then say it.”
The Dark Elf
Her voice was low and steady, like a blade slipping free.
“You don’t want obedience? Good. I’m tired of giving it to men and women who don’t deserve it.”
A breath.
“If this bond means I fight beside someone worthy… someone who stands when everything burns?”
Her gaze flicked to Kit, then back to me.
“Then maybe I’ve found a better cage.”
A pause.
“One I choose to stay in.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“I’ll have questions. I’ll test you.”
A beat.
“But I’m not walking away.”
The Tabaxi Woman
She tilted her head, slowly unwinding from her posture against the bars.
There was a softness in her voice now. Still edged. Still careful.
“I’ve worn prettier chains than this one, Master. Ones that glittered and whispered safety—if I stayed quiet.”
A faint exhale.
“This one?”
Her eyes held mine.
“This one smells like steel… sweat… and truth.”
She smiled. Not playful this time.
Real.
“I like truth.”
A beat.
“I miss having something worth believing in.”
Her gaze flicked briefly to Kit.
“If your bond is real—and her eyes say it is—then I want to believe in you.”
The Wolfkin
She squared her shoulders.
Silence settled with her.
“I’ve never followed blindly,” she said. “Not even when my clan demanded it.”
She stepped forward, the bars giving a soft rattle under her grip.
“But this?”
Her voice dropped, rough and grounded.
“This is the first time someone’s offered strength and meaning in the same breath.”
Her eyes locked with mine.
“If I submit, it’s not because I’m broken.”
A beat.
“It’s because I see something worth giving myself to.”
She crossed her arms.
“You want a protector?”
A faint, hard edge of pride.
“You’ll have one.”
Another beat.
“And I won’t wear it quietly.”
Kit let out a breath beside me.
Half pride.
I glanced back at them, then turned to Kit.
“Walk with me.”
We stepped a few paces off—close enough to watch, far enough to speak freely.
“Thoughts?”
Kit studied them for a moment before answering.
“You already see it,” she said quietly. “But I’ll say it anyway.”
Her gaze settled on the Dark Elf.
“She’s sharp. Disciplined. Won’t break under pressure. But she’s carrying something heavy—pride, hurt, maybe both. She’ll follow… but she’ll test you. Again and again. That can make us stronger… or wear us down.”
Her eyes shifted to the tabaxi.
“She’s quick. Not just her hands—her mind. She knows how to survive. How to read a room.” A small pause. “But she’s lonely. More than she lets on. She wants something real… she just doesn’t trust it yet.”
Then the wolfkin.
“She’s solid. Loyal. Grounded. You won’t have to question her.” A breath. “But she’s used to being the shield. Following someone else won’t come easy. When it does… it’ll be everything.”
Kit glanced back at me.
“If it were me? I’d lean toward the tabaxi—for now. She’s already halfway there. The others… you’d have to win them.”
Quieter—
“But I’ll stand with you. Whatever you choose.”
I nodded, thinking it through.
“I agree about the Dark Elf. She’s not wrong—but she’s not what we need. We need someone with us. Not testing us.”
Kit’s tail flicked once.
“The tabaxi’s strong,” I said. “And yeah… once the bond hits her, she’s never going to feel alone again.”
My gaze shifted.
“And the wolfkin… She's exactly what we’re looking for. Loyal. Strong. Protective. Someone I can trust.”
Kit stepped closer, shoulder brushing mine.
“If it’s loyalty, the wolfkin wins. If it’s connection… it’s the tabaxi.”
She looked up at me, one brow lifting slightly.
“Let the Dark Elf go. Then we test the other two.”
Her voice dipped just a touch.
“One more question. One more truth.”
A faint, knowing look.
“Shall we?”