The Slave-Auction

You find yourself in an auction. The space is lit by hanging iron lanterns and torches mounted on the stone walls, casting flickering orange light and deep shadows. The air is thick and wet. With a mix of sweat, fear, and unleashed bodies. It must be the Dregs. Or somewhere just as bad.

You're pushed forward onto a main auction stage. A low, wooden platform where others like yourself wait, bound and shackled. Around the stage, fourty to fifty buyers are gathered.

Wealthy merchants. Brothel owners. Drinking wine, sharing food, and openly discussing the morbidity about to unfold.

Dozens of hungry eyes turn toward you as the auctioneer starts: “Prime grey-skin female! Young, fertile, excellent body! Bidding starts now!”