Noon_Shadow
Corrupting Influence
- Joined
- Feb 3, 2010
- Posts
- 7,748
1602, Northern Arabia
The Caravan continued southward in the desert heat, attempting to reach the water stand before nightfall in order to make camp-one of the locations where water was to be found in this region. The guide was a local man, who wore a dark shroud over his face and carried a large, curved sword. Very few of those in the caravan had ever been to the region before-they were from far off lands, hoping to buy silk at a discounted price from local traders. They'd been struggling onward for nearly a week in the barren sandy landscape, and the heat and thirst had taken effect-they were not nearly setting as ambitious a pace as they had upon starting out.
Something else had changed from the start of their journey-they were being watched. Though they didn't realize it, sharp-eyed Kurdish raiders had been shadowing their journey, carefully watching the approach of this Caravan, and hungering after the riches it seemed to be carrying right into the heart of their lands. And, with a suddenness that completely startled the desert travelers, they attacked.
The caravan guide was frozen in place for a moment, before he emitted a startled scream and turned about to flee, running as fast as he could, until he suddenly fell, with an arrow embedded in his back, fired from a horsebow. The members of the caravan-mostly merchants, with but a few guards and servants, were almost completely unprepared, and mustered almost no resistance to hinder experienced raiders, used to striking suddenly and without mercy. They did not kill unnecessarily-the men who did not resist were left alone. The found a great store of gold and plenty of other loot. Camels were quickly broad to bear the load, serving as beasts of burden for the spoils of war. The women, unfortunately-they were considered among the spoils.
One such, a particularly lovely creature with reddish-brown hair appeared to be the source of some argument. She found herself caught between two of the raiders, as they began shouting at each other in angry words she could not understand, while they each grabbed an arm. They were oblivious to her cries and complaints, her fear-stricken face, until a larger man with a scarred face, the experienced raid leader, strode in angrily shouted both down. After glancing at the woman in question, he issued orders to the two warriors, who obeyed, however reluctantly. There was one word distinguishable-it appeared to be a name, "Jemeil," though what it foreboded was beyond the young woman's ability to understand at this time. Before she could catch her breath, they were cutting strips from her dress to bind her hands, securing them behind her back. One of the men, tired of her loud protests, eventually gagged her mouth as well, silencing her cries.
And just like that, the defenders marched marched off. The women they'd taken were made to walk on their own two feet. Sure, the chests of gold and clothing, and the other various loot had been secured to camels, but the women were forced to trod on bare feet across the hot sand in the burning heat, wearing their tattered dresses. They were dragged along like willfully disobedient pets, thirsty, barely able to see for the heat haze rising from the ground. If they fell, the were simply pulled up, given a swat across the bottom, and made to continue. They were stopped once, after two hours, and given water, then prodded into motion again. Finally, they began to make out a city in the distance, and it appeared that it was their destination.
Most of the women appeared to be dragged off to tents outside of the city, which were clearly camps intended for the soldiers, but this red chestnut-haired beauty was taken by captors into the city gates. The city was noisy, the traffic was tight, and while she might have thought to escape in the added confusion, one of her captors gripped her tightly as the other drew a long knife-the implication was clear. She was taken to the highest part of town, to its largest structure...a 3 story palace. They escorted her around to a side doorway, where two very imposing men stood guard with long swords. The captor with the knife suddenly turned her and began cutting at her clothes, and though the captive attempted to scream, her screams were still muffled by her gag. Every stitch on her was quickly cut away, and she was tossed unceremoniously tossed, completely nude, through the door...into a dimly lit room occupied with women. They were all audaciously dressed in sheer tops and flowing skirts, and there was a large fountain at the back of the room, and a pool off to one side. One of them began speaking to her, in words she still could not understand, but she soon realized that she was being offered water.
It was at that moment that another door opened, revealing a darkly handsome man, bare from the waist up. He paused in the doorway for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the rooms lighting, before he spots the newcomer in the far corner. With a fetching smile for each of the ladies as he passes them-who each responded with a smile of their own-he made his way to her side not bothering to hide his open appraisal of her features, admiring her fair skin and fair hair. He paused directly in front of her before he made a chivalrous bow.
http://neon.hu/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/prince-of-persia1-720x1024.jpg
"Greetings. I am Prince Jemeil al-Wassar. My soldiers have offered you as a gift from their latest raid, and, having seen you, I graciously accept. You are to become part of my harem- he pauses to indicate the ladies gathered around him "-and you will be treated to the protection and luxuries of my house." He sensed her discomfort at being nude in front of her, as she attempted to cover up, and he continued. "No man but I may enter this room, and as you are to serve me, there is no need for modesty."
The Caravan continued southward in the desert heat, attempting to reach the water stand before nightfall in order to make camp-one of the locations where water was to be found in this region. The guide was a local man, who wore a dark shroud over his face and carried a large, curved sword. Very few of those in the caravan had ever been to the region before-they were from far off lands, hoping to buy silk at a discounted price from local traders. They'd been struggling onward for nearly a week in the barren sandy landscape, and the heat and thirst had taken effect-they were not nearly setting as ambitious a pace as they had upon starting out.
Something else had changed from the start of their journey-they were being watched. Though they didn't realize it, sharp-eyed Kurdish raiders had been shadowing their journey, carefully watching the approach of this Caravan, and hungering after the riches it seemed to be carrying right into the heart of their lands. And, with a suddenness that completely startled the desert travelers, they attacked.
The caravan guide was frozen in place for a moment, before he emitted a startled scream and turned about to flee, running as fast as he could, until he suddenly fell, with an arrow embedded in his back, fired from a horsebow. The members of the caravan-mostly merchants, with but a few guards and servants, were almost completely unprepared, and mustered almost no resistance to hinder experienced raiders, used to striking suddenly and without mercy. They did not kill unnecessarily-the men who did not resist were left alone. The found a great store of gold and plenty of other loot. Camels were quickly broad to bear the load, serving as beasts of burden for the spoils of war. The women, unfortunately-they were considered among the spoils.
One such, a particularly lovely creature with reddish-brown hair appeared to be the source of some argument. She found herself caught between two of the raiders, as they began shouting at each other in angry words she could not understand, while they each grabbed an arm. They were oblivious to her cries and complaints, her fear-stricken face, until a larger man with a scarred face, the experienced raid leader, strode in angrily shouted both down. After glancing at the woman in question, he issued orders to the two warriors, who obeyed, however reluctantly. There was one word distinguishable-it appeared to be a name, "Jemeil," though what it foreboded was beyond the young woman's ability to understand at this time. Before she could catch her breath, they were cutting strips from her dress to bind her hands, securing them behind her back. One of the men, tired of her loud protests, eventually gagged her mouth as well, silencing her cries.
And just like that, the defenders marched marched off. The women they'd taken were made to walk on their own two feet. Sure, the chests of gold and clothing, and the other various loot had been secured to camels, but the women were forced to trod on bare feet across the hot sand in the burning heat, wearing their tattered dresses. They were dragged along like willfully disobedient pets, thirsty, barely able to see for the heat haze rising from the ground. If they fell, the were simply pulled up, given a swat across the bottom, and made to continue. They were stopped once, after two hours, and given water, then prodded into motion again. Finally, they began to make out a city in the distance, and it appeared that it was their destination.
Most of the women appeared to be dragged off to tents outside of the city, which were clearly camps intended for the soldiers, but this red chestnut-haired beauty was taken by captors into the city gates. The city was noisy, the traffic was tight, and while she might have thought to escape in the added confusion, one of her captors gripped her tightly as the other drew a long knife-the implication was clear. She was taken to the highest part of town, to its largest structure...a 3 story palace. They escorted her around to a side doorway, where two very imposing men stood guard with long swords. The captor with the knife suddenly turned her and began cutting at her clothes, and though the captive attempted to scream, her screams were still muffled by her gag. Every stitch on her was quickly cut away, and she was tossed unceremoniously tossed, completely nude, through the door...into a dimly lit room occupied with women. They were all audaciously dressed in sheer tops and flowing skirts, and there was a large fountain at the back of the room, and a pool off to one side. One of them began speaking to her, in words she still could not understand, but she soon realized that she was being offered water.
It was at that moment that another door opened, revealing a darkly handsome man, bare from the waist up. He paused in the doorway for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the rooms lighting, before he spots the newcomer in the far corner. With a fetching smile for each of the ladies as he passes them-who each responded with a smile of their own-he made his way to her side not bothering to hide his open appraisal of her features, admiring her fair skin and fair hair. He paused directly in front of her before he made a chivalrous bow.
http://neon.hu/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/prince-of-persia1-720x1024.jpg
"Greetings. I am Prince Jemeil al-Wassar. My soldiers have offered you as a gift from their latest raid, and, having seen you, I graciously accept. You are to become part of my harem- he pauses to indicate the ladies gathered around him "-and you will be treated to the protection and luxuries of my house." He sensed her discomfort at being nude in front of her, as she attempted to cover up, and he continued. "No man but I may enter this room, and as you are to serve me, there is no need for modesty."
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