Your Market Value

This is it… this is the end…

Your city has finally fallen. The streets are flooded with ash and blood. Homes and shops are still ablaze, weeks after the siege has ended. The reek of decay and burnt flesh and orc was rife in the air. Everything was destroyed. Your history, your home, your world… your life… This is the end for you. There’s no way out; no honorable death waiting for you on the other side of the cloth blinding your sight. Only death and humiliation and torment. 

You don’t know where you are or for how long you’ve been walking. Orcs were pushing and shoving you into your neighbors and fellow countrymen, all similarly bound and blinded as you were. Jeers and sneers were spat at you. You were tripped and kicked. If you stumbled, your fellow man would nearly trample you to death as they all hurried away from the incoming blows around them. 

When the group you were shoved into is forcibly stopped, an unnatural hush falls over the rowdy crowd that you were circled by. Dread clutched at your heart with its cold talons. The blood rushing in your ears and the quiet sobs around you nearly drowned out the ambient noise of hundreds of shuffling feet and the sharp whistle of wind blowing through recently vacated and crumbling buildings. 

You wished you knew what was happening around you; what terrible and cruel fate would await you once this blindfold was removed. If it were to ever be removed… Would darkness be the last thing you would ever see? Would the last memories you held be that of your home being burned to the ground? Will the last memory of your family, friends, and your neighbors all be them being put to the sword or rounded up like cattle to be slaughtered? Or are worse things in store for you…?

It was inevitable that the slave market would commence, but it was the moment you feared the most. Did it take minutes? Hours? Your entire body ached; your wrists burned from your constant tugging and pulling on your restraints and though you prayed and wished to a god that would listen, you knew that there would be no salvation for you or any of the other unfortunates imprisoned with you. This was the end. This was it… This is it…

“ALRIGHT ya globs! You know the rules: no touching, no rough’ousing, ya break it, ya buy it! Now… Ehh… That ‘un! Right there!” 

Your collar is roughly snatched, all but knocking you off your feet. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t even breathe. You…? Why you…? The uruk dragging you along lifted you by the scruff of your neck and forced you onto a raised surface. Claustrophobic fear twisted your gut into knots. You were going to be appraised like livestock; sold off to the highest bidder that would ultimately decide your fate. There was too much shouting. It was too loud. You couldn’t understand what was being said. W-What’s happening…? Who’s- What’s g-going to happen to- 

“SOLD! Next Tark!”

There wasn’t any time in between the reality of your life being over and you being shoved onto the cold, hard cobblestone ground. The roar of the crowd picked up in ferocity as you were once again picked up by your collar, being dragged off by the uruk that would most likely kill you before the week was up. If you even lived long enough to see one more sunrise… Fear choked you, and you swore that, no matter what happened, you would maintain your honor and integrity. You had to. It was all you had left…