A day in the life of a slave

A slave totters in under a pile of parchment, clearly barely able to see as he stops beside Jurixe , his legs trembling.

Kaevan says to Nafireak in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "Your motivation to learn things on your own will make your novicehood less of a burden on yourself, overall. However, I can generally point you towards resources if for some reason you are not able to find what you need."

Jurixe glances briefly at the slave, delicately scooping up the first piece of parchment from the pile and glancing leisurely over it.

Nafireak gives Kaevan a nod of agreement as she listens.

Kaevan eyes the walking stack of paperwork next to you, glad that for once it is not his.

Jurixe folds the parchment up neatly and glances at Kaevan, a slight quirk to her lips.

Kaevan asks Nafireak in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "Very well. Do you have any questions before the contract is finalized?"

Comprehension flashes across Kaevan's face.

You say to Kaevan in Mhaldorian in a cool, silken voice, "Some of these are for you, I believe, Tyrannus."

Kaevan says to Nafireak in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "It goes without sayi..."

Kaevan frowns at you.

Kaevan exclaims to you in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "Naturally!"

Nafireak says to Kaevan in Mhaldorian in a harsh, icy voice, "None, sir...I rarely have questions left unanswered..."

Nafireak's eyes move over the stack of paperwork, a brief flickery of muted amusement in her gaze.

Amusement flickers quicksilver in Jurixe's grey eyes as she turns back to the struggling slave, lifting another from the towering, wobbling stack.

Kaevan says to Nafireak in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "It goes without saying that should you prove to be a liability or worse, a traitor, that I will either kill you personally or arrange for your demise."

Nafireak nods her head at Kaevan.

You say vaguely in Mhaldorian in a cool, silken voice, "If you drop any of that, slave, I will see you decapitated."

Kaevan says to Nafireak in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "... depending on how busy my schedule is."

Nafireak's lips twitch in the briefest of bemused grins.

Kaevan asks Nafireak in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "With that said, do you have any qualms, objections or concerns that you wish to voice?"

A slight whimper emanates from behind the stack of paperwork as Jurixe continues to read.

Nafireak says to Kaevan in Mhaldorian in a harsh, icy voice, "None."

Kaevan nods his head carefully at Nafireak.

Nafireak murmurs a soft thanks.

Kaevan scrawls a few lines to the bottom of a scroll of parchment before sealing it with wax. With a deft hand, he quickly wedges it among the stacks of parchment that the overburdened slave is beset with.

The towering pile of parchment sways alarmingly, nearly overbalancing as Jurixe takes yet another piece, ignoring the slave's predicament.

Nafireak lifts a hand before her lips, curling the fingers as she obscures a warped grin.

Jurixe frowns slightly at the parchment, turning it over.

You say to Kaevan in Mhaldorian in a cool, silken voice, "Yours, I think, Tyrannus."

Kaevan says to Nafireak in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "I would normally ask for my proteges to consult wi...."

Jurixe re-folds the parchment neatly, handing it over to Kaevan.

Kaevan says to you in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "Yes, yes. Assuming you do not end up killing the slave for dropping and soiling good parchment, he will be taking it back to the council building."

You say to Kaevan in Mhaldorian in a cool, silken voice, "I suppose you might send another to do so now, this one looks quite unstable."

Kaevan says to Nafireak in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "... to consult with me before seeking out an interview, but you seem like you know how to read and follow directions. If not, the proctor may extinguish your life for wasting their time. But if you feel you need me to look over your accomplishments before the examination, feel free to do so."

Nafireak nods her head at Kaevan.

Another slave scuttles hastily into the room and collides with the first slave, sending him sprawling to the floor at Jurixe's feet and parchment flying everywhere.

Kaevan sighs and nods in acceptance towards you. He whistles softly and delivers the scroll to a kneeling figure swathed in thick robes, who then vanishes into the milling crowd.

Kaevan says in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "Best to entrust such work to accomplished scribes, I suppose."

Lowering the parchment, Jurixe exhales in an aggravation-laced sigh.

You say to Kaevan in Mhaldorian in a cool, silken voice, "A self-fulfilling prophecy, it seems."

Nafireak's amusement drops near immediately as she watches the slave go sprawling.

Kaevan clucks his tongue in a reproving manner.

Kaevan says in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "Oh, well. I see I will need to visit someone's office soon."

The slave scrambles to his feet, dashing around gathering the parchment to his chest, glancing beseechingly at Jurixe.

Kaevan says to you in Mhaldorian in a resonant, baritone voice, "Excuse me, Minister."

Kaevan looks at you and the corners of his lips turn upwards in an enigmatic half smile.

You say coldly in Mhaldorian in a cool, silken voice, "Leave it, slave. I warned you of the consequences."

An unusual eagerness touches Nafireak's eyes.

Jurixe snaps her fingers, and two nearby guards step forward, grabbing the slave under each arm. Tears begin to stream down his face as he opens and shuts his mouth wordlessly.

You say to a knight of the Maldaathi in Mhaldorian in a cool, silken voice, "You know what to do. Take him from my sight."

The knights nod as one to Jurixe and haul the protesting, struggling slave off easily between them, vanishing into the red mist.

A muffled cry rings out from the slave market and is cut short as swiftly and suddenly as it came.

Nafireak's lips twitch in the briefest of bemused grins.

Jurixe doesn't look up at the muffled cry, instead glancing down disapprovingly at the parchment left fluttering on the ground. She turns her gaze to a pair of shivering slaves nearby, arching one eyebrow.

Hastily, the slaves scurry about gathering the fallen papers, retrieving them in record time and returning to Jurixe's side. With a slight nod of her head, she turns on one heel and melts into the mist, the slaves following close behind.