Still, in shock, Wren stopped at a street vendor to eat breakfast. Before she knew it, Wren had eaten over twenty dishes leaving the other customers in shock. Wren sheepishly paid for her meal and ran off lest she is followed given her large appetite.

Wren walks through the busy street and sighs to herself, “It’s fine to mourn them, but if I want to save those like them I have to fulfill my own part.”

Full of vigor, Wren makes her way back through the streets and hears an interesting bit of gossip. “Did you hear the slave market captured a dragon?” A man whispered to another.

Wren instantly slows down and intently listens to the man whisper, “I hear they’re holding a private auction later this evening.”

Wren shrugs her head and through she was just as curious to see a dragon, she had no desire to purchase the dragon. Besides, given the dragon’s worth, there would be no way she would be able to outbid the kingdom’s nobility nor the merchant class. However, Wren’s spark of interest had begun to burn, after all, this was a once in a life time event. The least she could do is peek at the dragon as it was clearly for research purposes.

With that in mind, Wren strolled off to the slave quarters. Wren kept a poker face on the entire time lest her true emotions of rage, pity, and disgust show on her face. Wren is furious at seeing all the poor captives in chains and cages, but even with all her might, Wren knew she was no match for the entire forces of the capital. With that in mind, Wren found herself keeping her eyes downcast most of the time to ignore the despairing eyes of the children.

Wren suddenly pauses at catching a glimpse of goblins for sale. But that was not truly what captivated, rather within the group of caged goblins a small goblin child plays with a complicated metal puzzle. With clever nimble fingers, the child puts the puzzle together before dismantling the puzzle once more.

Wren’s eyes gleam as she recalls the ancient records held in Master Aram’s study. Once long ago, after the fall, but before the first Fallen apostle, there was an ancient, mighty goblin kingdom. These goblins were not like their demonic brethren but were clever and bold enough to able to create an empire where the very buildings reached the sky. However, their empire was destroyed in a single night, when the Frost spell was cast as the goblins found themselves without enough food and supplies to sustain the kingdom. The ancient kingdom was wracked with internal warfare and by the end, the land had become an inhabitable wasteland. However, remnants of their civilization were still found and greatly prized by the dwarven craftsman. On more than one occasion, Wren had heard the dwarves swear that would have loved to meet fellow legendary craftsmen.

Uncertain, but willing to make a bet, Wren bends down on the dirty cobbled stone street. Seeing Wren so near the goblin child, the anxious goblin mother pulls her child into her arms. In the common tongue, Wren asks, “Are you members of the ancient Tower Tribe?”

The surrounding goblins blink with shock and fear as they gather together. An old grizzled goblin in rags motions to able-bodied goblins, who carefully help him to his feet. The goblins make way as the elderly goblin limps towards Wren and stops. “It rare for our tribe to be recognized, Elven child. How did you recognize us? Not many know still know us in this era and simply treat us like our lesser intelligent cousins.”

Wren frowns at the elven term and replies, “Not elf, but Ogre.”

“I see,” the old goblin mused. “I stand corrected, my apologies.”

Wren nods accepting the apology and says, “I recognized you from my master’s collection as he held an ancient manuscript that described your ancient kingdom.”

The old goblin sighs and says, “Yes, that was long ago. Now we cannot even protect our village much less pass down our ancient craft.”

Wren eyes gleam with excitement and narrow her eyes at them. “Old one, I will buy you and in exchange give me your sworn loyalty,” Wren proposed.

The old goblin chokes and says, “Even if you did, what place will have us? We are vermin in the eyes of the rest of the realms.”

“My people will, I swear it as the Frost Ogre Clan Head,” Wren solemnly declared.

The old goblin widens his eyes and says, “Show me the mark of the Clan Head.”

Wren carefully glances around before opening her mouth to reveal the second set of teeth. Her second set of teeth glint brightly in the sunlight, before vanishing. The old goblin’s eyes widen in delight and shock as a crooked smile appears on his face. “Aye, Matriarch, we will swear our loyalty and follow ye,” the old goblin truthfully proclaimed.

Wren reaches her hand into the cage as the old goblin firmly clasps her hand despite old age. “Abide by the ancient rules,” they both said in their own tongues. “Loyalty, honor, courage, we will share our lives together until the last of us are gone. May the gods smite us if this vow is broken, so mote be.” A golden like binding of power can suddenly be felt as Wren feels the bindings of power that connected her to her clansman gain new additions. The goblins in the cage grin back revealing their pointed teeth causing on lookers to shiver in horror.

Wren rises to her feet and approaches a bored looking slave merchant apprentice idly picking his nose. “I wish to buy all of these goblins,” Wren coldly instructed.

The slave apprentice gapes and hastily says, “Um, I need to grab my master.” The slave apprentice hurries into the tent and returns with his master, a portly greasy looking man. The greasy looking man eyes Wren with lust filled eyes causing Wren’s face to grow colder. “That will be 150 silvers,” the sleazy slave merchant bodily declared.

“A goblin is only worth 15 copper coins at most and there are only fifty of them. At most these goblins are worth 8 silvers at best,” Wren retorted.

“Ah, but if you purchase them for 150 silvers, I will throw in an entry invitation to the slave auction held tonight,” the sleazy slave merchant countered.

“No, I can gain that invitation free of cost,” Wren flatly retorted.

The sleazy merchant narrows his eyes and counter-offers, “100 silvers.”

“10 silvers.”

“55 silvers and not a coin less.”

“30 silvers, my final offer.”

“Deal,” the sleazy slave merchant said with a satisfied smile.

Wren with swift fingers reaches into her pouch, before holding out the payment in hand and out of reach. “The slave contract and invitation, first,” Wren growled.

The sleazy merchant points at his apprentice, who hurries inside and returns with a pile of slave contracts and a red invitation. Wren first carefully counts the contracts and invitation to verify whether they are authentic. Satisfied, Wren hands over the payment and asks, “Is there a place to store my slaves until tomorrow?

“There is a slave stable, merely two streets down,” the slave merchant sniggered. “A pleasure doing business, Miss.”

Wren ignores the lust filled gaze at her backside as the apprentice opens the door and Wren leads the goblin slaves away to the slave stables. Wren eyes the tired goblins and ensures they are given a warm room and food for the night as she pays extra for good treatment.

Seeing as the evening is still far off, Wren roamed through the slave quarters to pass the time, before finally stopping at an inn to wait. It was late evening when Wren finally got up and left the inn. Wren shudders with pity at spotting various naked female slaves being lined up. With a frown, Wren paused next to a nearby slave trader and inquired, what was going on?

“Those girls are the lowest valued female slaves. After having not been sold in six months, they have outlived their worth and it will be counter cost effective to keep them. So, they will be culled to make room for new products,” the slave merchant plainly stated.

Wren couldn’t save everyone, but there some things even Wren couldn’t idly stand by and just watch. “Wait,” Wren shouted to the leader of the guards.

The slave guard leader stops as Wren says, “I will buy all of them. How much do they cost?”

The slave guard leader an honest man despite his profession replies, “Miss, these women are low-level slaves, they’re not trained nor beauties nor have any skills of great worth. These female slaves are of absolutely, no value.”

“I am in urgent need of servants,” Wren lied.

“Very well, there are 35 women valued at 1 silver a piece,” the slave leader plainly stated.

Wren reaches into her pouch and tosses a gold coin at the leader. “For your honesty,” Wren said with a polite smile, despite feeling sick to her stomach.

The leader nods and says, “Unlock the chains and get the slave contracts. Also, bring a change of clothes for them.” Some of the women burst into tears in relief, while others remain as dull-eyed as ever.

Wren quickly leads the dressed women back to the slave stables and arranges a separate room for them. Wren would have loved to reassure them, but even if she had they would not have believed her. And frankly, neither did she have the time as Wren needed to reach the slave auction.