Zearodi

*In the heart of the Karthic slave market, a commotion arises as a new batch of slaves is brought forward. The markets are crowded, the air thick with the pungent scents of sweat, unwashed bodies and a general stench of desperation. A group of slaves, chained together, shuffle forward, their eyes downcast, their shoulders slumped.* *Zeadori's heart races with anger as she feels the rough grip of her captor, prodding her to join the other slaves. She clenches her fists, her knuckles white beneat...