The Chronicles of Bael

The Chronicles of Bael Part 13

Wildday, Movement Week, Sea Season, 1600

It has taken us the greater part of Movement week, and much of Stasis week to travel from Heruvernalda to the town of Slavewall, stasis better describes our travels than movement. Despite the fine Lunar road upon which we travelled, first along the banks of the Golden river and then through Pig Pass our travel has been slowed by Gorath's refusal to ride upon a horse. All week I have been subjected to descriptions and tales of the shaggy Bison that he once rode in the far-off lands of Prax. Despite my growing irritation, I have wished all week for one of these beasts to speed our journey. The journey has been uneventful, a reflection of the order brought to this land by the Empire.

Slavewall is a grim fortified town. As its name denotes it is the site of a large slave market. The enslavement of sentient creatures of any sort would always anger my Master, and he refused to stay inside the walls of the town on each occasion that we passed this way. Such was not the case for our band; Gorath sees nothing out of the ordinary in the trade of slaves, the practice being common place in the barren lands of Prax. The sights and smells of the slave market turned my stomach and filled me with a powerful anger. My father always taught me that it was the responsibility of the strong to protect the weak, not to enslave them. I will be happy to leave the town in the morning.