Thinslayer

Condemned

I see. I may have to rework the character development arc I had in mind then. The idea I had in mind was that she would learn not to brush him off as just another Imperial slaver, while he would learn to treat her with the respect due to a person. She would be grim and spiteful at first, and over time, she would work that out and come to respect him, heralded by a more jovial attitude and the occasional prank. If he basically frees her right off the bat, it would deal a blow to that arc.

But at the same time, you gotta be able to live with yourself as the roleplayer of the character, so I propose a compromise. Perhaps he's compelled to acquire a slave due to peer pressure, not for any selfish reason of his own? Like, maybe the members of the Ranger Covenant own slaves just like the next person, and it's this particular story in their history that drives them to halt the practice?

Condemned

So if they can't own slaves, he'll have to keep her secret somehow. Her pointed ears and unique hair are hard to hide.

Condemned

Does Lanik have other slaves? I'd imagine he might have a few to keep house. Or does he perhaps live in the family estate, which would almost assuredly have slaves?

Condemned

"Look mommy, can I have that one?"
"No love, she's too expensive."
"But I want it-hit-hit!"
"I'm sorry, we can't afford it."
"Noooo! I want that one! Gimme!"

Erudessa watched the buff amazonian mother struggle to drag the child away from her display. She adjusted her aching wrists in the stocks and risked a glance at Frandur. Two women fawned over him, touching him in all the wrong places and giggling at the wrongness of it. The elf remain unflappable, not flinching even when groped. Erudessa couldn't help admiring his resolve, especially since she was much less reserved toward the man who felt her up a few minutes ago. She had nearly bit his head off - literally. The man let out hysterical shrieks when her teeth scraped his skull, and even the subsequent beating she received couldn't dim her satisfaction.

Now, though, watching the women assault her friend set her blood boiling more than the mild groping she'd endured. Thankfully for her sore back, the women moved on before she could fire off another string of curses. The only indication Frandur gave that he felt violated was the slight dimming of his eyes. Erudessa leaned forward to get a better view of his face. "You okay?" she asked in Elvish.

Frandur adjusted his neck. "No. But then again, neither are they." Erudessa had to think for a minute about what he meant. Of course they're fine, they live in the most powerful- unless you meant more in the head. I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps you're right; these morons could be pitiable to some degree. I should be more sympathetic. But they don't deserve it. They don't deserve you.
"You're staring," he reminded.
Erudessa pushed her lips into a smirk. "Maybe if you were married, they might not find you so attractive."
He groaned and lolled his head back. "You sure picked a fine time to propose again. Besides, aren't I a little old for you?"
"I don't mind."
"Let me rephrase that: Aren't you a little young for me?"
The teasing twinkle in her eye grew brighter. "Look on the bright side. You get to have fun with a young wife before you die, and I'll get some experience in before I move on. It's a win-win."
This time, Frandur laughed aloud, drawing a few surprised eyes from the crowd. "Honestly, that made my day. Tell you what, free us, and I'll think about it."
Erudessa's smirk widened into a grin. "Deal."

They watched a gaggle of guards push their way to the auction stand. Frandur looked at Erudessa again, his smile dimmed into gravity. "I know you pretend it's a joke, Eru, but I've known your true feelings for a while. If I were a few centuries younger, I'd have married you in a heartbeat. You're kind, funny, and sexy as hell. And seriously, your joke is the best argument I've heard yet to accept your offer. I just thought you should know that your feelings were not wholly unreciprocated."

Erudessa's breath hitched. She looked away to hide her widening smile and replied, "Dangit, you've got me all motivated now to escape."
No response.
"Frandur?"
She turned her head to see a pair of guards hauling him away. "Frandur! No! Where are you taking him?" she cried out. Then another pair of guards took her out of the stocks to take her away too. As soon as she was free, she elbowed one in the head and threw him into his comrade. The two careened into a wall behind her. Erudessa charged after Frandur, only to run headlong into another group of guards. They wrestled her to the ground and held her down as both elves were injected with another round of sedatives.

Then Gurgle Moor dragged Frandur to the stand, the altar prepared behind it. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he crowed to the crowd. "The gods have rewarded us with a great victory over these cowardly elves! Thanks to the brilliance of our generals and unparalleled courage of our soldiers, we can sell you the finest slaves this side of the continent. Who wants to guess the value of the first prize?"
"Ten gold!" one person shouted.
"Twenty!"
"Fifteen!"
Gurgle patted his chest and roared with laughter. "Excellent guesses, folks! Our expert evaluators put him at twenty-five Solid. Gold. Crowns!"
Cheers went up from the crowd. Erudessa knitted her brows. Why would anyone get so excited for a high price? The answer to her question came a moment later. Gurgle yanked Frandur over to the altar, where he strung up the elf to an X cross and pulled out a knife. Erudessa's eyes widened.

"NO!" she shrieked. The guards pressed her down harder. Gurgle chortled. "Seems we have another volunteer," he taunted. The onlookers started to chuckle and jeer at her and Frandur. Gurgle pierced the knife at the nape of Frandur's neck, eliciting a stifled grunt from the elf. The crowd broke into a wild chant. "Kill! Kill! Kill!"

Erudessa looked on in horror as Gurgle dragged the knife down Frandur's back and worked to peel away the skin. Foam poured from the elf's mouth. Erudessa felt her stomach lurch, and turned her head to spill her last meal on the straw floor. "Stop! You're hurting him!" she screamed when her mouth was empty again. "At least let me ease his pain! Please! I'll do anything!" She started struggling again, and the guards had to throw all their weight into her to keep her down.

Gurgle did not stop, forcing Erudessa to watch her friend, her crush, get peeled apart over the altar. The crowd's shouts of delight drowned out her screams, and by the time the knife reached his beautiful face, she vomited again and passed out.

Erudessa woke a few minutes later sputtering water from her mouth. A guard put down the pail and hefted her to her feet. "Your turn," he grunted. He handed her off to Gurgle, who marched on to the auction stand with his merchandise in tow. "Now for the next prize! This one's the Engineer who plagued our men up north." He sifted his hand through her silver tresses. "Get a load of her exclusive hair! I've never seen an elf's hair this color, and I've seen a lot of them. Starting bid is twenty gold!"

Nobody raised a hand.

An ugly grin formed on Gurgle's mouth. A few members of the crowd held back a few snorts of amusement. "So, you want her sacrificed too, eh?" he crooned. "Can't say I blame you. It would be terribly exciting to tear apart that gorgeous bod of hers. Shall I?"
Whoops and cheers flew up. Erudessa's blood ran cold. "W-Wait, p-please don't do that," she quietly pleaded with Gurgle. "I- I can cook, clean, build, and- I'll do anything, anything you want."
Gurgle leaned in and whispered in her ear, "Too late." With that, he dragged her by the hair to the altar and forced her head onto the rough stone surface.

Erudessa gritted her teeth and shut her eyes. Calm down. Think this through.
Don't let Frandur's death be in vain. But she could not calm down this time. Her breaths grew more ragged as her rising panic peaked. This is it. I'm going to die. There's no way out. We're all going to be skinned alive, and I'll die useless. I don't want to die! Help me...somebody help me...please God...

"Please..." she sobbed.

"Last chance to buy!" Gurgle cried, knife raised to her neck.

Condemned

@BellBottomBlues
Darnit, I'm drawing a blank. I have a rough idea of what I want to write; I need to set the scene for the Auction. With the new influx of slaves, it'll be a busy day, and a profitable one for Gurgle Moor. He'll want to make a spectacle of Eru's auction, and might even be inclined to sacrifice her instead. I imagined Lanik visiting the Auction (for reasons I wouldn't know) and seeing Eru about to be destroyed, so to stop the sacrifice, he'd offer to buy her for the asking price. Or something like that.

Who Shall Win Her Heart?

Lack of sleep over the last few days seriously sapped my creativity. Don't worry, I'll have something up soon.

Meta RP: Peacekeepers

Gwenivere Valentine

While I commissioned several art pieces depicting Gwen, none of them have the scar over her left eye that she canonically possesses. This one here is far and away the closest representation of her I've ever found. The eyes are supposed to be silver, but it's a minor point. Silver hair, silver eyes, scar over the left eye, a calm and calculating expression, and a face that could light up with joy, turn grim as death, or tease you until you retaliate.
Official character art
The very first commissioned render of Gwen

As for choosing a faceclaim for Eli, I would recommend one that's clean-shaven. The Immortals like to present themselves as pure and righteous, and facial hair doesn't reinforce that image.

EDIT 5/9/17: To be clear, there's no rule against beards. You can have one if you want. It's just Council tradition not to wear one.

Meta RP: Peacekeepers

@Infamous Empath Sounds fun! My character, Gwenivere Valentine, has a villainous side of her own. Things could get interesting...

Meta RP: Peacekeepers

Have you ever had this one character template you like to use across roleplays? Suppose it really is the same, continuous individual every time. You are an agent of the Immortal Council, a group of individuals from an extremely advanced galactic civilization who have taken on themselves the responsibility for bringing peace and justice to the galaxy. They do not want their presence widely known, so they travel to the afflicted worlds in person, assume an identity to fit in, and work to help the people handle whatever crisis is hurting them.

Gameplay works as follows: The main RP thread represents the Immortal Council meeting hall, where you can select missions (RPs that I choose to be canon), join missions in progress, or talk to any Immortals lingering between missions. The Character tab represents the Transformation Chamber, where you can design and build a custom body to occupy. When you are ready to leave, you will head back to the main RP thread, "board your warp pod," and join the RP you selected.

Every so often, I may create related RPs to expand on the lore and maybe fill in any story gaps.

Interested?

Condemned

Gotta work on a bit of lore before I make the hook.

Once upon a time, auctions were stage shows, deliberately designed to maximize the slaves' powerlessness. Auctioneers would bring up one or two slaves at a time, crow about their features, and sell them off to the highest bidder. The trouble was, that could take a while if there were more than a hundred or so. Conquered cities yielded thousands of slaves. So instead of auctioning each individual slave, the traders assigned fixed monetary values to various slave profiles and sold them in displays.

* Language Fluency: +2 gold for understanding, +3 gold for ability to speak it, +4 gold for fluency
* Youth: +1 for childhood, +2 gold for adolescence, +3 for an adult, and +1 gold for every 100 years estimated remaining lifespan. Goes to zero if past prime/elderly.
* Strength: +1 gold for average build, +3 gold for a fit build, +5 gold for a bodybuilder/soldier
* Attractiveness: +1 gold for average/decent looks, +2 gold for catching eyes, +5 gold for a stunning model
* Professional Ability: +1 gold for competency, +2 gold for expertise, +3 gold for genius

Frandur, for example, would earn +4 gold for his fluency in Common, +3 gold for maturity, +2 gold for having about 200 years left on his lifespan, +5 gold for being a bodybuilder, +2 gold for his eye-catching looks (most notably his gorgeous hair), and +10 gold for his competency or expertise in multiple professions. He would be worth a whopping 25 gold, a stunning profit - if the slave traders knew all his abilities, that is. Captured people aren't particularly eager to earn their captors a profit, so much of the challenge is getting slaves to reveal their abilities.

Yanduin would fetch +3 gold for his rough understanding and speech of Common, +3 gold for maturity, +8 gold for elvish youth, +5 gold for being a bodybuilder, +2 for his eye-catching looks, and +1 gold for competency in basic architecture. 3+3+8+5+2+1= 22 gold.

Lanik, if he were sold at auction, would fetch +4 for fluency in Common, +3 gold for maturity, +5 gold for being a bodybuilder, +1 for average looks (i.e. not being ugly), and +1 or +2 gold for his mechanical inclinations. 4+3+5+1+2= 15 gold.

Erudessa would fetch +4 for fluency in Common, +3 for maturity, +3 for fitness, +5 for stunning beauty, and +2 for mechanical expertise. Given her youth, most evaluations would put her remaining lifespan at about eight centuries, but they have no idea yet that she is immortal. The auction house would value her at 20 gold, if her rare silver hair didn't warrant putting her on special auction.

For comparison, a typical foreign human slave fetches +0 gold for not knowing Common, +1 gold for average looks, +3 gold for maturity, +1 gold for average build, and +0 gold for having no other marketable skills (besides farming or housekeeping), total value 5 gold. City dwellers often fetch little more than 4 gold (usually +3 for adults, +1 for either average looks or average build, but not both). Children are even worse off, earning no more than 1 or 2 gold, and the most profitable slavers either leave them, raise them, or sacrifice them, since feeding and sheltering them can cost more than they earn.