Snippet #2376501

The wheels of the wagon that Maxine was riding in squeaked atop the cobblestone road. Her carriage was more of a cage. Amongst her fellow travelers were 3 other female witches. The necromancer the three had been enslaved to had died three weeks passed, and his successor saw the women as more of a profit to be made, than an inheritance of labor. His name had been Lancelot, but in no way did he uphold the legends that were made by that name. None the less, he had been Maxine's Master for as long back as she could remember. The fact that his nephew had sold her, and the younger witches, had been more insulting then being enslaved period. Maxine had overseen the entire care of Lancelot's estate, apparently she had fooled herself the entire time thinking she would receive credit for her time and duty.

Now, here she was, riding in a magically protected cage to an FWP camp. The three young girls riding beside her had looked to her for leadership and guidance for many years now, and for the first time, Maxine felt as if she truly had nothing to give them. Within Lancelot's home, they were at least given enough freedom to practice without being noticed or punished for it. Maxine herself had never been or seen an FWP camp, but had heard many things about them. The first rumor that proceeded them was the fact that not a single prisoner could exercise their powers, ever. This in itself was torture enough for any witch, let alone one like Maxine who seemed to cling to her own gift as much as she did the air passing through her lungs.

The guards driving the carriage were lower ranking necromancers themselves. Maxine had full confidence, that if there wasn't a binding spell put upon her enclosure, she could take both of them out at the same time. However, the moon was high above the trees, shining brightly over the entire forest; the spell resting above their heads was strong enough that it nearly had a glow about it. Maxine hung her head low, and covered her face with hard edged hands. 'Survival would be much more easier in this wretched world without a bunch of different blood thirsty necros barging in and out of my life every day.' There was not a single ounce of hope to be found in any of the girls' eyes. Maxine was exhausted; so much so, she almost entertained the thought of sleeping for the rest of the journey. Almost.