Of Vacant Throne And Dragons Bone

Slavers!

The crackle of the fire was mixed pleasantly with the peaceful sounds of the night. For a moment, Hester found a sense of calm before the pounding of what felt suspiciously like a drug-induced headache jolted her fully awake.

Eyesight blurry from whatever drug or alcohol had passed her lips the night before, Hester could just make out the outline of a fire and three sleeping bodies around it. Shaking her head to clear her eyes of the fog, she immediately felt bile rise to her throat.

The sour acidic taste further added to her confusion and she felt a grown escape her lips. "The fuck," her voice seemed to come from far away as the lights and colors flashed before her eyes.

"Shut up," a distinctly male voice whispered hoarsely from around what should feel like her elbow, but was detached without feeling.

"The fuck," Hester's voice was strained, but quieter this time. The pressure of ropes binding her hands behind her back had made her hands go numb. They stung as if pierced by a thousand needles as she tried in vain to loosen her bonds.

"Oh, be still! It takes some time to wear off."

This was a distinctly feminine voice. Higher-pitched but with just a touch of accent Hester felt she should know but the fog on her brain too heavy to lift.

"Close your eyes till it passes."

Hester groaned again, quieter. A few more breaths and Hester felt oriented and more herself. Ghostly limbs took shape, feeling returning with each breath. With another groan, she rolled then pulled herself into a sitting position. Arms were now pinned behind her, stretched tight.

Before her was a camp, distinct in appearance. A single campfire with 3 sleeping bodies wrapped tightly in furs against the oncoming winter air. The position of the tents was not uniform: not soldiers. There were perhaps four tents and only one had a guard stationed before it. Squinting to take a better look at the single guard, Hester observed that while parts of his armor were high quality, none bore the style of the same maker. The other parts of his dress told a story that gave Hester pause: no mercenaries or traders wore such a disgusting mix of heavily-used and high quality armor and clothing.

Hester had two ideas - neither was pleasant.

To Hester's right was the owner of the feminine voice: a Tabaxi. The cat-like humanoid bore red fur and long brown hair almost obscured her cat's ears. Small frame was covered with monk-ish clothing. Mud and water stains discolored the green of the cloth. The Tabaxi's thin frame was gaunt with hunger, brown eyes shone white in the firelight.

To the left was the owner of the male voice. Ram's horns blended into long white hair, bluish skin unmarked by blemish or scar. A Tiefling.

"Hello," the Tabaxi said, her eyes wide. Her wide face was an expression of eagerness, "I'm Nera. Nera Goldleaf. That's Belphi of Finheld. We woke up maybe an hour before you."

Hester winced, the burn of rope against flesh as she rubbed her wrists together. Digging her heels into the dirt, she observed that she had been stripped of her armor and weapons. Her boots, leggings, and blouse where as she remembered, but the comforting weight of her necklace was gone.

"You look a little rough," Belphi's tone was matter-of-fact, his words slow, and voice gruff.

"You look like you haven't had a solid meal in weeks," Hester snapped.

"We were looking for work when-" Nera shook her head, "I can't remember. Do you remember anything?"

"I'm not sure I can remember anything of the last 3 days. If it has been 3 days." Hester mumbled, saying the last bit more to herself than her two companions.

"Where'd they get you?"

Hester blinked, her memory, too, strangely blank. Shrugging it off, she answered too quickly: "Drunk, most likely."

As Nera's face fell, Hester realized that the Tabaxi had been expecting something a bit more than a useless drunk. Sure, Hester already did not look like much: standing at just a little over five and a half feet tall. She was solidly built and the three scars that traced from just under her right eye and cheekbone to the edges of her lips often have the impression of a rugged individual.

"You said you'd been awake an hour?"

The Tabaxi nodded, "Do you know what they want?"

"Slavers, most likely." Hester gave a sigh a relief as the feeling started to return to her fingers. She relaxed her shoulders, observing the worry of Nera's face. She felt the stern line of her lips soften, "They are... cowards."

Nera's face broke into a relieved smile.

"Usually."

Concern again.

"Look-"

One of the three sleeping forms before the fire stirred and stretched. The figure sat up and yawned, throwing a whispered question to the guard at the nearby tent. Words too quiet to hear.

"Shit," Hester begin rubbing her wrists together in earnest. The bindings were loosening as told by the blood flowing back into her fingertips.

"Stop, they'll see you!" Nera hissed.

The slaver pulled himself to his feet and stretched again, his back to the prisoners. After a moment, he strode away, further into the camp and into one of the other tents.

"It'll be dawn before we know it," Hester breathed, her eyes on the slaver's head as he walked away, "We need weapons and armor or we are not going to get far."

Belphi nodded, "Get us free and I'll take the one standing guard. You two get to the tents and grab whatever provisions and weapons you can find."

With a fair amount of scuffling, three ropes fell loosely to the ground.

Hester pulled herself to her feet, motioning Nera to follow her. She started silently around the fire and to the back of the guarded tent.

As she rolled up against the rough material, Hester's hand met something furry.
She tensed, breath caught in her throat.

"Sorry," Nera's voice purred.

Hester' s body relaxed before she pressed a finger to her lips.  Pointing to the gap between the grass and the fabric of the tent, Hester untied one of the leather straps and bent to lift the edge of the tent.

Silently, red fur vanished under the fabric.

Hester shuddered, the bitter wind cutting through the thin fabric of her blouse. She gave a quick glance at the woods behind her before ducking beneath the tent and into total darkness.