–The Journal of a Woman Sold–
Spoiler Warning: Based on Captured Dreams
---Last Seed, 17th, 4E 201---
Aerius sold me to an elf calling herself "Master". I don't know what for, but it seems Aerius owed her a great debt or maybe tried betraying here. I remember him fetching me from below deck on the Shadow Empress. I did as he said. As always. Because he hits me if I don't. But as soon as he and I went above deck he hit me with something in the face. My face hurts. The next thing was just nightmares. I don't know. Master said I have to work in her mine. There is a quota. She doesn't seem to care much, she didn't even wanted to know if I could do something more useful. But I can read, and write... most here can't. Except Mecius, who is the overseer here and keeps the mine's ledger. Unlike the other slaves in the mine I am locked into a cage for the night. I don't have anything to write, I just have to keep it in my head, for now. Maybe if I show I can be useful I can get out of this mine... I already dread the darkness here.
---Last Seed, 19th, 4E 201---
I worked very hard these last few days. Mecius asked what I can do. I said I received education, I can read, write, read maps, make correspondonce, he cut me short. He doesn't care. I'm not dumb, I know they "made" me their property. Mecius is probably some sort of property as well. He wears a collar. But he is a "finer grade" of property, you see.
He send me to bring some ore to the ork stronghold Nazulbur. I didn't know where it was, he showed me on a map. It is on the other end of Skyrim... this mine, this slave owner's compound, for a lack of better word, is near Falkreath (I didn't know). He said I have to get back by tomorrow. T o m o r r o w. Or there will be consequences. He said the belt would kill me.
He gave me my fur clothes for this, instead of the rags I have to wear in the mine. "The collar stays on". For everyone to see.
The ore is heavy, and it is far. I must hurry.
---Last Seed, 20th, 4E 201---
It was tortourus. To make it anywhere near time I couldn't just hike there, I had to run all the way there and back with the ore and the ingots. The smith tried to cheat me, saying the order was just for 15. But I can read. He commanded me to suck him, even said he would give me "extra". Right there, at his forge. It was degrading. At least he actually kept word. I came back with 25, too late. Mecius didn't complain about that. Noticed I brought 25 back, said "you really love to serve others, don't you?". There really isn't anything like shame, or dignity, left for people like me. People like me who have been stolen from their people, sold over and over again. Used and abused countless times.
On the bright side, I did get to see the day of light. There were some dead imperial soldiers by the wayside, probably killed in a skirmish with the stormcloaks. One of them kept a journal, he had ink and an almost empty journal. Mecius allowed me to keep it.
---Last Seed, 21st, 4E 201---
Today Mecius sends me to fetch something from Beirand, the smith in Solitude. I have until tomorrow sunset to return, which actually is reasonable. Perhaps the first time was just a test?
I passed by an ending skirmish between about twenty Imperial soldiers and a dozen Stormcloaks. The imperials easily overpowered the Stormcloaks, it looked really bad. These days they just leave all the corpses and blood to rot, but not before the wolves and other animals chew on them.
---Last Seed, 22nd, 4E 201---
As I arrived in Solitude, a gate guard was executed for high treason. They said he let Ulfric Stormcloak escape after killing High King Torryg (something I only overheard... Aerius obviously didn't buy any paper let alone let me read them, but sometimes you just overhear people talking of rumors...).
Beirand wanted De'Zras opinion on something, but since she wasn't sent there, he "retrieved" it from me instead. He put some chains and restraints on me (... in public, right at the feet of Castle Dour). Then, while I was gagged, he asked questions: "are they holding? do they pinch?". Figuring that I'd rather not upset him, I answered them by shaking and nodding. After that ordeal he removed them again and I was "free" to return to the mine.
The belt has something attached to it, it is inside me, I could feel it from the beginning but wasn't sure. During the journey it started to move... it felt good. I wanted to touch myself, but the belt prevents that. It is the ultimate sign of ownership. Putting a belt on someone, so that they can't even touch themselves, pleasure themselves, procreate, or spend any living second without feeling the belt, knowing exactly what it means. That they are owned.
---Last Seed, 22nd, 4E 201---
Today Raccan (a guard of some sort, but he's also wearing a collar?) moved me to the Smithy. I now sleep in the Barracks; still in a cage (albeit a bigger one shared with many slaves), but I have my own cot now. I don't need to sleep on the cage floor any more.
In the smithy I have to smith rough shapes meant for further refinement. I'm not a smith by any stretch of the imagination, but I've worked with a smith before. De'zras expectations are high to say the least. Today I was supposed to make 40 belts and 120 plugs, which in itself is a lot. But due to her high standards, I had to retouch about two thirds of them, and some another time after that.
I am completely exhausted now and almost falling asleep writing these lines.
PS: I have my own chest now... of course I still don't have real property, I "belong" to them, and so does everything I might consider belonging to me.
---Last Seed, 24th, 4E 201---
De'zra was overall pleased with my hard work.
I am being sent out again. I am looking for someone called Rayani, which works for Master in some Dwemer Ruin, but De'zra does not actually know where. Rayani apparently sent a letter requesting someone to pick stuff up, but a part went missing and the courier is a drunkard who doesn't remember even in which city he picked the letter up.
All I know is: she is probably in or near some dwemer ruin, and I'd wager it is one close to a city, or at least an inn (due to the courier).
I have two days to find her. Two.