Ottokath's Journal #8

When I awoke, I found myself in chains. My companions were bound likewise. The tragedy was not lost on me. One of the last free woodelves, bound and dragged through the dirt. I could escape, of course, but I doubt freedom awaited a squirrel's mad dash into the woods. Besides, I wished not for the death of those around me. If I were to flee, it would be to escape a terrible fate awaiting all, or with all of those I found myself bound with.   It was a while before we found ourselves back at the camp we once scouted. I made sure to voice my displeasure with Art, but cannot say I despise her for her actions. I have no right to judge other for the mistakes they make. Especially if I lack the knowledge of how they ended up making them.   We were brought into the tent. To our surprise it was bigger within than without. A tall human of eerily pale skin greeted us within. Malik, we came to know, was a warlock. He was congratulating us on a job well done. Telling us how ideal we were positioned to deliver his will onto the Magister Coast. He realised our will ran counter. Thus he did what I know the Tellureans to have done before. He cast a spell, starting with Mavis. Hamood soon followed. I reckonized this spell. The insertion of an electrum crystal into the forehead. The enslavement spell.   I refuse.   Mutt struggled, lunging his huge form at Malik. A distraction. Quicker than anyone could react, my form shifted out of my chains, into the form of a weasel. I made for the gap at the tent. I failed to be fast enough.   Caught, my fate was to receive the curse.   It is a simple enchantment. You link the output of an electrum crystal to the will of a person. If the caster wills it so, magic is transferred onto the mind. This hurts to the point of causing physical damage to a creature. Do the will of the master or die, that's the idea, at least. To my surprise, Malik then performed a different ritual on Art. The ownership ritual. She was to be our slave driver. Hate comes poorly to me. I am a forgiving person. But I hate Malik for what he did to me. And I was perfectly capable of hating Art for what she might have done next.