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[Lore Master]

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The ink does its dance once more...

Once more the whip fell across the back of the gaunt young man, landing upon old scars, and opening the skin once more. He grimaced, but did not cry out. Years of beatings had broken him of making noise, it satisfied his Master and brought on more lashes. An off placed sneeze brought on this round of hits. His Master liked him unseen, unheard, and efficient, and noise when company was over was about the worst he could do.

Later, sitting in the small closet he had been alloted in the stable, he gingerly applied a damp rag to his back. Looking at the straw-strewn floor, he fingered the metal collar that had almost become a part of his neck. All this time, he had come to loathe his Master, little by little. Tonight it would all end, he had been getting ready for weeks. This night was the last straw.

Pulling on his shirt and shoes, he walked to the back door of the barn and slipped out quietly into the woods, setting off towards town and his new freedom...