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The estate was even more intimidating up close, its far-reaching towers seeming to glare down at Chiaria with cold gazes. She shrank back from the castle-like manse, instinctively slinking behind Toryc, who noticed and straightened up a small bit, glancing about.

"It's... It's like a fortress..." Des'kava breathed in awe, looking at the vast structure towering over them. She had never, of course, seen any such thing, but from what she had read of them, this quite obviously was one.

"Like a fortress, yes, but it is not one." Kyarn offered in return.

"Oh? And how do you know? Have you seen one?"

"Several. From both sides of a siege, actually. I spent quite some time as a mercenary in the far southeast. I was in the Republic during the war with Galtrikar a few years ago and was conscripted." He stated this matter-of-factly, in his normal emotionless voice. He did not seem the slightest bit concerned about it.

"So... you're a veteran, then. But how isn't this a fortress? I mean, it's huge!"

"Ah, but to have those last few words taken out of context..." Makaz sighed dramatically.

"Something that would never happen for you, my poor brother." Zakam commented lightly.

"It's got the towers, walls, and... well. It looks like a fortress." Des'kava seemed as though she hadn't heard - or perhaps hadn't understood - the brothers' words.

"It's not. Look at the construction. The towers are too tall, too thin. There are few with crenellations. Good for a sharp-eyed watchman, but hit it with a catapult, and it'll come right over. Can't have something like that on a castle. Few arrow slits. I do not see any emplacements. No ballistae, no cannons. Unless it is well hidden, this is not a fortress. An aesthetic replica, and little more. Or am I mistaken?" Kyarn looked askance at Chenin as he finished, waiting for an answer.

The merchant was simply staring at the much taller Kyarn, obviously quite amazed by the short, flat terms which he had used to demolish Des'kava's idea. "Great fathers, Traynor, your slave is a veritable siege engineer. Where in all of the hells did you get him?"

Traynor looked aghast, horrified at having unintentionally bought a soldier of this type. "I... I got him at an auction in Cilven; I thought he would make an interesting addition to the staff at my estate... They mentioned he had some magical talents, but nothing of this."

"Magical talents as well? Such as what?" Gardin looked suspiciously at Kyarn, who stood impassively nearby.

"I do not know... They simply said magical talents." Traynor trailed off, hesitant.

"Most of my 'talents', as you and the slavers put it, are related to the more aggressive areas of magic. Such as a fireball." Kyarn motioned lightly in the air, a red-orange orb of flame surrounding the gesturing hand.

"Wonderful... a siege engineer and a battle mage. Just who the hell are you? With all of these damned abilities, I would think I would've heard of you." Chenin crossed his arms across his chest, frowning deeply.

Kyarn, meanwhile, simply fixed Chenin with his disturbing, violet-eyed stare. "I am Kyarn, naturally. I do not quite see how any other information about myself is necessary."

"I am your master!"

"I am greatly sorry to disappoint you, but I have no masters but the gods above. I am simply serving you for some amount of time before I continue along the path I have chosen."

"Which is?"

"That of the wanderer, naturally. The vagabond. The traveler."

"I see. Well. I'm afraid I can't let a valuable slave like you go. So! Let's get to the estate proper, shall we? There are so many wonders to show you all!" The merchant, already seeming to have forgotten about the incident, sounded particularly like a gleeful child.

They entered through the great double-doors at the manse's front, and came into a massive room, no less than forty feet by twenty feet, wider than it was long, with a massive double staircase dominating the back of the room. There was very little furniture, but numerous doors. Two were set in the left wall, one in the right, and one at the very top of the stairs, along with several along the wraparound balcony overlooking the room.

"This is the Great Hall! It is not a very exciting room, and so I will keep it to that for now, but it is from here that you can access most of the mansion." He cleared his throat briefly. "You may all wander about and explore, but I assure you that you will be watched, so do not try to escape or steal anything."

With that, he promptly left, exiting out through one of the doors along the balcony.

"Hm.. I'm going to go try and find our rooms." Des'kava announced brightly.

"We'll go with you." Cesava nodded firmly, and Shaga repeated the gesture.

"I'll go find the kitchens, I suppose..." Neyin sighed.

"Yeah, good idea, I'll stick with you." Makaz chuckled.

"I am going to find a secluded place to rest..." This toneless remark came from Kyarn.

"Mind if I come with?" Zakam asked.

"If you so wish, and do not bother me."

"Right..."

"I'm going to go find a window to look at the gardens." Chiaria announced. "Do you want to come, Toryc?"

"Uhm... sure." He shrugged nervously.

Traynor looked around as his slaves - and the panther's arse - spread out to wander the mansion, and shook his head slightly. "Des, wait up! I'm coming with you."

Chiaria bounded up the stairs, settling next to a window looking out the front of the mansion, Toryc in tow, content to sit and watch the sunset.

* * *

"Oh! Hello! Greetings! Uh, I didn't known Master Chenin had guests over... is there, uhm, anything I can do to assist you?" Des'kava, Cesava, Shaga, and Traynor stared at the servant, though Shaga's "companion" obviously did not react. It was a female Mogram, a rare sight in the warm climates of Nisadeen province, who resembled the dogs that the northeastern hunters of Chitren bred, the so-called Huskies. She was tall and relatively well-muscled, with a mixture of black and white fur, ice blue eyes, and a slightly curled tail. She wore a short black dress trimmed in white lace, which revealed the top of her rather large breasts.

"We're... uh, we're not guests." Des'kava smiled at the servant. "We're the new slaves from Lord Traynor."

"Just Traynor now, Des." Her old master corrected her.

"Oh, you're the new servants! Master Chenin mentioned you. I apologise! I completely forgot." She blushed. "Come, I'll show you to the servant's quarters." With that, she hurried off down the hallway.

They reached the servant's quarters quickly enough. There were three separate rooms - two of them appeared to be something similar to bunkhouses, with rows of beds stretching the length of the rooms, with surprisingly soft-looking rugs covering the floors. The third room appeared to be more like Traynor's room at the other manor, which was, no doubt, for Traynor himself - the new overseer. No human would lower him or herself to staying in the same room as their slaves - not unless they were interested in them that way. It wasn't unheard of, but it was rare.

"I'm going to get some rest!" Des'kava declared. "So should the rest of you."

"Yeah, good idea, I guess..." Cesava led Shaga into one of the rooms and Des'kava headed the opposite way with the Mogram, while Traynor ducked into what was apparently his room.

* * *

"These are some nice kitchens..." Neyin looked around the impressive rooms with respect. Stoves, ovens, cabinets, and anything she could ever need to cook something crowded the kitchens; including things she'd never heard of - new technological marvels, she was sure.

"Not as nice as you, I've got to say." Makaz forwarded breezily.

"...Are you... complimenting me?" Neyin stared at him in surprise.

"So it would seem." Her companion agreed calmly. "And for once, I'm telling the truth. You should appreciate it." He sent her a little grin. "Miracles don't happen often."

"Well... thanks, I suppose... now what do you want?" She knew she sounded suspicious, but she couldn't help it.

"What do I want?" He sounded surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Pfah. You males always want something when you compliment someone. Now out with it, what do you want?" She glared at him.

"Nothing, to be completely honest." He smiled. "I just think you look, uh, pretty."

Beneath her orange fur, Neyin's cheeks turned red. "I... uh, I'm glad you think so..." As she said that, she began to wonder about the possibilities between her and this male.

* * *

Kyarn lowered himself to the ground with a soft grunt. He and Zakam had found a quiet, unused tower after a bit of time spent wandering. As he sat down, Zakam watched him intently.

"Do you ever take that mask off?" He asked casually.

"Sometimes I do, yes." The answer was suspicious.

"When?" Zakam spoke a little more forcefully.

"When I need to." His companion was not fazed by his manner of speech.

"Can I see you without it?" Zakam kept pressing the point.

"Why do you want to?" Kyarn seemed irritated now.

"Because I generally don't trust people when I can't see their faces." He shot back.

"You don't want to see my face."

"I do! No matter how scarred it is, I'm sure it's not that bad."

"You know nothing!" The obviously angry words sounded curiously flat and toneless, though the tone had been raised.

"I know that I want to see your face." Zakam said firmly.

"You won't see me the same afterwards." Seeing that the first tactic had not worked, Kyarn tried a different approach.

"Too bad. Take off the mask."

"You know what? Fine. But don't tell anyone what you see, or I'll gut you." Kyarn growled.

He removed the mask.