Much Ado About Muck

[Moonitic]

Ashla the Trapper stomped along the river bank with her son Omar, a beastly youth who took after his mother not only in looks but in personality. "We've come so far, Mother, and found nothing. That stag is gone."

"As are our gold pieces, you fool. I told you where to shoot," that which would have been called a woman many years earlier spat. "It has been three days since Master Zarcon has gone. There is rumor he died. He probably left so's he did not have to pay us." She jerked her head to the side. "Come now. We will look over there by the river before we end the hunt for the night." Cursing under her breath, she picked her way through the bramble with Omar close behind. "I see something over here." The reluctant boy joined Ashla as their boots sunk into the soft ground.


"Look here. What be this?" A small figure lay on the ground near the water's edge, covered in muck.

"What is it?" Omar scrunched up his nose. "It does not look like an animal."

A sharp smack came to the back of his head. "Fool! That is no animal. Tis human." Ashla poked at the body with her walking stick, then used it to turn the person over. The unconscious figure groaned. "Ahh...tis a girl!"

"A girl?"

"Yes. A thing you will never know." Ashla peered closer still. "A pretty one. Why would someone throw her away? She looks a good worker. Small, but see? She has some meat on her bones. Not baby fat like you."

"What is that around her neck?"

Ashla stooped down and fingered the medallion. "A gold piece. With the seal of Arconia." She spat at the word. "Bah! Worthless place! Look at the airs they put on. The funny decorations on the back."

"Tis gold? We will get our gold after all!"

"Arconian gold is worthless here. But...an Arconian slave is not. Some would pay a fair price for one like her," Ashla said. She yanked the necklace from the girl, and pitched it into the river. "Come. Let us get her back. She looks like she needs a good patch job before she is sold."

[DamedEscrime]

Yay, Moon! I want more MUCK!!!

[Moonitic]

Days later, the girl awoke with a start. Her wild eyes darted to & fro as she tried to take in the strange surroundings. She attempted to sit up, but a hand on her chest forced her back onto the rags that served as her pillow. "Lay down, girl. Ye aren't well yet."

The girl's gaze rested on an old, haggard woman. "Where am I?" she asked.

Ashla clicked her tongue. "A better question to answer would be...who are you?"

"I am..." The girl paused, searching her mind, but it would not yield an answer. "I do not know." She smiled up at the woman with hope in her eyes. "Do you, kind lady?"

Ashla's cracked lips turned into a slow grin. A giggle next to her caught the girl's attention. A homely boy sat next to what might have been his mother. "She doesn't..." he attempted. "OW!" The girl did not see the woman kick the boy in the leg, or the angry glare.

Ashla's face grew harsh once more. "You are a slave by the name of Muck."

"Muck?" the girl repeated.

"Do you doubt me, child?"

"N-no, Mistress. I just..." the girl seemed more confused than ever. Muck? Who would name someone "Muck?"

"Your name is Muck, for that is where we found you. That is all for now. Go to sleep. You have chores waiting for you," Ashla stated. She stood, and walked to another part of the dingy hovel that was called "home."

So, the girl named Muck nodded, and fell back into a fitful slumber.

[Willow]

Whew. Lady Moon is back, so Willow will eventually be able to wake up! She's sawing lumber right now, if you all remember.

[Moonitic]

Time passes quickly when you're having fun.

Unless you're a girl named "Muck."

It had been weeks since the young slave girl joined the house of Ashla the Trapper and her son Omar. Once recovered from her time in the river, she had been removed to the "servant's quarters"...a shed next to the pig pen. Every morning Muck would rise before dawn and cook the meal. Whatever Ashla and Omar left, she received as scrapes of food. Then, off to chores. They worked her into the ground from morning meal to evening, with never more than a few morsels of food. When she attempted to take more, Ashla lashed out with her walking stick, bruising once solid muscles into a pulpy purple and black. They dressed her in rags, nothing like the attire they found her in. An occasional dip in the river provided the only cleanliness that she knew.

As the workload grew, and time passed, Muck grew more and more tired. Her sleep was that of death, and she found it hard to rouse herself in the morning. Even when Ashla's stick met her shin. Then Muck would limp off to her duties. Then, one day, her body gave in. She hauled apples from a small grove nearby, and collapsed under their weight.

When she was late returning, Ashla barked, "Omar, go find that wench."

He did so, and returned, shouting, "There is something wrong! She sleeps!"

Ashla followed him to the place Muck lay, apples scattered around her. Ashla yelled, "Get up, you lazy thing!" But the girl did not move. After several minutes of yelling & shaking, Ashla received a small movement.

The girl, Muck, opened her eyes, rolled over...and threw up.

[arcon]

and the Arconian crowd chanted:

MORE MUCK!
MORE MUCK!

and it was a good thing.

arcon

[Moonitic]

Ashla sent Omar for the village doctor once they carried Muck home. Mednt, who had more experience servicing livestock than people, looked over the sickly girl while Ashla & her son waited outside. to Ashla, it seemed as though the doctor was in there far too long. She paced back & forth.

"Something be wrong. No doctor takes that long to look at a sick slave." The old hag growled. "If I have to get less for that child, I will be eternally angry!" The door finally opened. Mednt appeared, scratching his balding head. "What say you, doctor? What is wrong with my slave?"

"Your slave..." he said with a long pause. "...I believe...is with child."

"No! How can this be? Omar, you dirty lout! How could you?" Ashla began to beat Omar over the head, first with her walking stick (but that broke) then her bare fists. The doctor called Mednt grabbed the furious woman to restrain her.

"I did not touch her, Mother!" Omar yelled, covering his head with his arms. "I have been no where near her!"

At first, she did not believe, but she came to the realization that Omar was, indeed, truthful. "She must have come to us that way. No matter, though. We shall charge the buyers extra for that one, since the child will be able to work also." Ashla smiled at her plan. "Yes. We shall do that. Omar, we leave tomorrow."

"Where are we going?" he asked as he rubbed the sore spots. The doctor simply shook his head & walked away.

"To sell our little Muck."

[Moonitic]

As the early morning fog weighed heavily on the air, Ashla woke Omar. He grunted like a pig and rolled over, swatting away the gnarled hand that shook him. The woman let out a huff, then lifted her walking stick to poke him in the stomach. "Wake up, you lazy thing. We have work to do!"

Omar grumbled, but his eyes opened. He looked about the still dark hut. "The sun hasn't come up yet. Make Muck do it." Then he shut his eyes once more, and immediately dozed off.

This time Ashla poked him harder, then brought the end of the stick down on his head. "Omar," she hissed, "awaken, I say! Today we join the League. There are preparations to be made."

The half man, half boy awoke with a start. His eyes went wild. "Not the League! What do we have to do with them for?" His mouth hung open like that of a dead beast.

"They are the best in slave trade. They will help us get a pretty penny for our little Arconian slave girl." Ashla sneered at the thought, then added, "And her little brat."

"Does she know?"

Ashla glared at Omar. "About what?"

"The child."

"No. What do I care to tell her for? So that she can think she's special? HA! Nay, let her find out the way I did. Howling alone on me own with you poking out." Ashla laughed. "Now get up and get the supplies. I needs to make sure Muck is ready for the trip."

[Moonitic]

They found Muck sleeping in the same position that they had left her in, pale and unmoving. Ashla gave the girl a rough shake,which made her jolt awake. "I am sorry! I am late. I will go serve your meal at once." She attempted to rise, but the old hag stopped her.

"You will not do that today. We travel to the port," Ashla returned.

"The port?"

"Aye. We travel to your new home."

"My new home?"

"Must you repeat everything, you sorry girl?" Ashla sighed. "You are being sold. We have wealthy buyers that wait for you across the sea. When we are on the ship you will be a serving wench for the crew until we reach our port o' call. Do ye understand me?"

Muck nodded. A tiny glimmer of hope filled her mind. Perhaps her new mistress, or master, would treat her better. Maybe she would enjoy being a serving...wench, as Ashla called it...and want to stay on the ship. For some reason, the thought of adventure intrigued her. She dreamed of such things. Daring swordfights, handsome rescues...

But surely nothing like that would ever happen to a Muck.

[Moonitic]

It was her wedding day. She sat alone on a bed, next to a white gown, in a strangely familiar chamber. She did not want to be there. And she did not want to marry this...prince? that she would soon join with. As she stared at the white gown, she made a choice: to run away. To renounce all that was dear to her for a sweeter prize.

Freedom.

Muck awoke, wrapped in a ratty cloak. She lay on the damp ground with night as her blanket. Not far away, the sounds of snoring came from two different bundles. One, Ashla. The other, Omar. It had all been a dream. But it did not seem like a dream. It seemed so...real. As though it had happened to her in a former life.

She laughed, & settled back to sleep. Surely she was just imagining things. As Ashla had said, Muck was born a slave.