One silent, graceful slice of a broken piece of glass was all it took to spill open a young woman's throat. It was almost like a musical act. The sharp edges split the delicate spot in the center of her neck with very little effort. Her mouth dropped open and her wide eyes rolled backwards up into her head. Then with one fluid movement, her arms curled over first and her body followed and crashed onto the floor. Kristia imagined had this been in a movie the scene would have been played in slow motion with some beautiful, haunting string instruments creating the feelings of the slave woman as she lost her life.
Blood had spurted out everywhere. All over the floor, on the man responsible for the murder, the patiently sitting Dhampire and the girls behind her. Kristia had been there for a slave trade but somewhere during the proceedings things had gotten out of hand. The now dead girl had giggled over a comment exchanged between Kristia and the other slave trader, Rakull, which had cost her dearly. Her life. Rakull had smashed his glass and used the largest piece as a weapon to quiet the girl's voice forever. That harmless, naive laugh would be her very last.
Kristia didn't normally get upset about these sorts of things. She was a slaver and she's been involved in the slavery ring for more then two generations. Handfuls of innocent blood had been shed by her own two hands over the years so she certainly wasn't in the position to finger point. However something about this had angered her beyond belief. It might have been the sheer waste of a young, able worker, or the other more fitting punishments that could have been used, or just the fact that Kristia's brand new four-thousand dollar sari was now forever ruined by blood stain.
Nevertheless, Kristia had followed through her plans for the day and ended in the Red Dragon Inn, like so many times before, and bumped into Trixie. The best friends shared a bottle of whiskey and played catch-up. The topics ranged from clothing, sex (or lack thereof), Trixie's alpha-male Keaton, and eventually to Kristia's trip to Gor. She was hesitant on sharing some of the details with Trixie because she was painfully aware that the Scathachian Sisters were the deadly cheerleading team for justice. After Kristia explained everything, Trixie asked what was Kristia's reaction. The Harlequin's only natural conclusion was that Kristia had killed Rakull. Right' Not quite so. In Kristia's eyes, it wasn't exactly professional to slaughter co-workers but as the two chatted, Kris suggested to Trixie that if perhaps another person did it...Well...she could look the other way. The conversation was cut short after that as both women had places to be.
The next night Kristia bumped into Trixie, Isuelt, and a Sister that'd she had never met before, Mirage. The conversation started off pleasant but took a quick turn and before anyone even had to voice it to Kris, she knew something wasn't right with the Trix. More murder in the West End. A woman named Leslie had been strung up and ripped apart and it was obviously taken a toll on the Sisters, hitting them a little too close to the heart. In anguish and anger over this Leslie's death, Kristia thought that perhaps this was the perfect opportunity for Trixie to unleash some of her pent up feelings and she knew exactly on whom. Flocking out of the Inn they made a quick stop at Breelin Manor where Kristia changed her clothing. Going as an incognito passenger in this, Kristia made sure that she was well covered from head to toe since being recognized would start a whole new set of events that she didn't want to encounter.
Time to go.
Since Gor was a completely different planet, the two had to fork up a little change for portal use. The magically produced space warps didn't even take a second to complete but as Kristia stepped foot onto Gor's soil, her expression was horrific.
"I ...hate that," the Dhampire hissed underneath her breath. Adjusting the hood wrap across her face that was keeping her memorable red curls hidden, Kristia tried to determine how close the portal had "taken them to their destination.
"Well. We're here. This is Treve."
The portal had opened up a slit in the space wall into the geographic location known to Goreans as Treve. A small, secluded city that was rich in materials. Made mostly of marble and cement, the different buildings each stood as great monuments, not one the same and all with costly details. Most of the architecture was circular, both windows and doors had been replaced but open half-moons. This was partly because of Gorean beliefs in the moon and partly because of the solidity of the city. Only the most ruthless, determined men of Gor owned interest in the City of Treve. Nobody messed with these people so most of them felt comfortable with the openness of their city. Kristia spoke softly as she beckoned Trixie to follower her, choosing a path that went behind the houses and keeping to the shadows .
"His is the blue one at the end. I'm pretty confident that Rakull will be long passed out by now...the slovenly pig...but his girls will be up and if they see you, they'll scream. The only time they're accustomed to people creeping in at night is either another Master trying to steal them or a panther girl who'd come to slaughter them. This society survives only because of how the class system work and these girls are slaves. And only that. They won't think of Rakull's death as their freedom but only something the further dooms them so they won't quite be welcoming you with open arms." Kristia paused for a moment. She recollected her thoughts, trying to put this in a way where her do-gooder pal wouldn't get angry." You'll have to silence them. Not kill them, of course, but perhaps knock "em out' Then I'll deal with them and you can go on upstairs and hack him to all hell for all I care."
All eyes on Trixie.
Blood had spurted out everywhere. All over the floor, on the man responsible for the murder, the patiently sitting Dhampire and the girls behind her. Kristia had been there for a slave trade but somewhere during the proceedings things had gotten out of hand. The now dead girl had giggled over a comment exchanged between Kristia and the other slave trader, Rakull, which had cost her dearly. Her life. Rakull had smashed his glass and used the largest piece as a weapon to quiet the girl's voice forever. That harmless, naive laugh would be her very last.
Kristia didn't normally get upset about these sorts of things. She was a slaver and she's been involved in the slavery ring for more then two generations. Handfuls of innocent blood had been shed by her own two hands over the years so she certainly wasn't in the position to finger point. However something about this had angered her beyond belief. It might have been the sheer waste of a young, able worker, or the other more fitting punishments that could have been used, or just the fact that Kristia's brand new four-thousand dollar sari was now forever ruined by blood stain.
Nevertheless, Kristia had followed through her plans for the day and ended in the Red Dragon Inn, like so many times before, and bumped into Trixie. The best friends shared a bottle of whiskey and played catch-up. The topics ranged from clothing, sex (or lack thereof), Trixie's alpha-male Keaton, and eventually to Kristia's trip to Gor. She was hesitant on sharing some of the details with Trixie because she was painfully aware that the Scathachian Sisters were the deadly cheerleading team for justice. After Kristia explained everything, Trixie asked what was Kristia's reaction. The Harlequin's only natural conclusion was that Kristia had killed Rakull. Right' Not quite so. In Kristia's eyes, it wasn't exactly professional to slaughter co-workers but as the two chatted, Kris suggested to Trixie that if perhaps another person did it...Well...she could look the other way. The conversation was cut short after that as both women had places to be.
The next night Kristia bumped into Trixie, Isuelt, and a Sister that'd she had never met before, Mirage. The conversation started off pleasant but took a quick turn and before anyone even had to voice it to Kris, she knew something wasn't right with the Trix. More murder in the West End. A woman named Leslie had been strung up and ripped apart and it was obviously taken a toll on the Sisters, hitting them a little too close to the heart. In anguish and anger over this Leslie's death, Kristia thought that perhaps this was the perfect opportunity for Trixie to unleash some of her pent up feelings and she knew exactly on whom. Flocking out of the Inn they made a quick stop at Breelin Manor where Kristia changed her clothing. Going as an incognito passenger in this, Kristia made sure that she was well covered from head to toe since being recognized would start a whole new set of events that she didn't want to encounter.
Time to go.
Since Gor was a completely different planet, the two had to fork up a little change for portal use. The magically produced space warps didn't even take a second to complete but as Kristia stepped foot onto Gor's soil, her expression was horrific.
"I ...hate that," the Dhampire hissed underneath her breath. Adjusting the hood wrap across her face that was keeping her memorable red curls hidden, Kristia tried to determine how close the portal had "taken them to their destination.
"Well. We're here. This is Treve."
The portal had opened up a slit in the space wall into the geographic location known to Goreans as Treve. A small, secluded city that was rich in materials. Made mostly of marble and cement, the different buildings each stood as great monuments, not one the same and all with costly details. Most of the architecture was circular, both windows and doors had been replaced but open half-moons. This was partly because of Gorean beliefs in the moon and partly because of the solidity of the city. Only the most ruthless, determined men of Gor owned interest in the City of Treve. Nobody messed with these people so most of them felt comfortable with the openness of their city. Kristia spoke softly as she beckoned Trixie to follower her, choosing a path that went behind the houses and keeping to the shadows .
"His is the blue one at the end. I'm pretty confident that Rakull will be long passed out by now...the slovenly pig...but his girls will be up and if they see you, they'll scream. The only time they're accustomed to people creeping in at night is either another Master trying to steal them or a panther girl who'd come to slaughter them. This society survives only because of how the class system work and these girls are slaves. And only that. They won't think of Rakull's death as their freedom but only something the further dooms them so they won't quite be welcoming you with open arms." Kristia paused for a moment. She recollected her thoughts, trying to put this in a way where her do-gooder pal wouldn't get angry." You'll have to silence them. Not kill them, of course, but perhaps knock "em out' Then I'll deal with them and you can go on upstairs and hack him to all hell for all I care."
All eyes on Trixie.