Bernoth was left for Seafierce after two short nights, and as they approached the modest town, they could see where the railroad was being built. Workers lined the area of flattened land, building in the heat of the sun. They watched their caravan with jealous eyes. From his comfortable seat, Alister could spot slaves among them, notable from their collars. As if it weren’t bad enough, of course, almost none of the slaves were human.

He huffed, folding his arms as he looked to his father, “Our nation allows for slavery?”

Blas seemed surprised by this sudden line of questioning, and looked out the window, “Ah… I see. Yes. Slavery is legal in the nation. In the Severin Duchy, it is better than most, however. Here, all slaves are debtors or criminals. They chose this over prison time. The only other slaves are, unfortunately, those that are bought in other duchies, such as Arfranz’s territory. I cannot free them, per the royal decree. This limits ducal fighting. I don’t allow slaves over my portion of the border with other nations, however. That much is in my power.”

Alister grumbled under his breath, displeased by the answer, but it was clear he couldn’t do anything about it, “How are the laws concerning their living conditions?”

“Good question, dear,” Alliana joined in, “It’s important to care about such things. They are the lowest caste of our people, but one must always remember that they are people.”

“Their conditions are admittedly difficult,” Blas answered, “I changed a number of laws from my father’s time, but change must be done more slowly, lest there is great unrest. Disallowing the sale of other kinds of slaves was a large change for most people, and it was difficult for some to accept. That said, I have demanded that all slaves, regardless of race, background, or charge, must have a roof over their head, access to fresh water at all times, and food no less than twice per day. Bare minimum, I know, but it is more than some of the poorest among us have in winter.”

He huffed another sound of displeasure, watching the men and women work as they slowed to a halt thanks to a busy road, “You make them sound like animals.”

“They are not, but they are owned peoples all the same. More strict laws are coming in time, I assure you. I have a handful of laws planned, and one for regulations concerning housing and food which should be put into practice sometime next year. Laws require thought and consideration, even if you think they should be common sense. Many people barely see beastkin or naga as people, to begin with, and that makes things all the more difficult. Let alone the terrible racism that gnomes deal with in many places. Laws have to be impartial, and unbiased, and they have to try their best to be ahead of their time. What we think is right or wrong now may be different three hundred years from now, and, gods willing, our laws and our nation will still be strong that far in the future,” Blas argued, offering an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry, son. I’d love to paint a cheerful picture of the world for you, but it’s part of our duty as dukes to make it reality… as best we can.”

The intensity of the work going on made it difficult to stop without being noticed by far more people than usual. This area of the railway couldn’t be used yet, else they would be getting on there instead of at Fornafoss, but it was seeing great progress.

Blas took the opportunity to take a look at the work while they were stopped for the night, and Alister tagged along, not wanting to miss the opportunity, but he also desired a closer look for curiosity’s sake.

The foremen ushered workers away as they approached, work coming to a pause for a moment. Most took this as an opportunity to take a break. They watched the Duke and his son from afar, unable to get close without risking getting in trouble with the boss. Some didn’t even show interest, depressing when those without interest were mostly slaves.

Blas started talking to the boss, the head of construction for the area. He was a thick man, older, hands callused and worked over years of hard labor. He was eager to get on the Duke’s good side, explaining all sorts of unnecessary things, and Blas just went along, eyeing the rails, the lengths of metal they were moving, the gravel, and whatnot.

Alister immediately lost interest in that, however, and wandered away.

He walked past the foremen that were making a nervous wall between themselves and the workers, past the boss and his father, to the now-on-break workers. The slaves were all so obvious, a thin band of metal serving as a collar with enchantments inscribed on them.

“Are you lot okay?” he asked plainly, getting confused looks from them as they eyed his guarding knight that had followed behind, “Do you have shade to rest under during breaks? Are they working you too hard? Have they fed you enough?”

In their defense, it was very strange to hear such pointed questioning from a literal child, a petite eight-year-old - almost nine - noble kid. He was eloquent with his words and pronunciation and was worried about their wellbeing. No one answered for a long moment as they processed the situation before them.

“Aye sir,” a gnome finally answered, his uncertainty clear in his tone. Even to Alister, it was clear they were wondering if this was some kind of test.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice growing more concerned. Were they treated so poorly they feared to talk about their circumstances?

Another one of them answered, this time a beastkin. They appeared to be an older pantherkin, though unusually small for their kind as Alister knew them. “We are treated as well as can be expected of slaves,” she said, voice guarded, “but our break is up.” As she said this, the lot of them began to turn to leave. Alister let out a little exclamation of surprise, shocked that they were so protective.

“Wait! I uh…” he began, suddenly unsure of how to continue. He knew what he wanted to do, but he was uncertain about where to put the limit. His father would only allow so much… “Bring… bring forward the youngest of you, and any elderly. Please,” he said, trying to sound confident through a breaking heart. The pantherkin and company paused, glancing between each other. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, and a communal sigh came from the group.

The gnome spoke up again, “Young sir, with all due respect… we are not for sale. You’re not the first to make such a request, but the company is simply too short staffed for such a project as this to begin with,” he explained, a sad smile on his face. Grateful for the goodwill, but having to deny it.

Alister shook his head firmly. “Just… trust me. I can manage it,” he said evasively, not wanting to to overly spook them. The group of slaves gave a collective shrug, unable to say no, and sent three people forward; one was the panther-kin from before, young and slim but clearly muscular and strong.

She had two brass ear piercings, both in the same ear, simple rings. Another was a naga with blue and pink scales, and a beautiful jade green underbelly and skin tone for the humanoid part of his torso, as well as a hood that laid flat. The last was a young orc, obviously no more than fourteen or fifteen. His tusks hadn’t even fully formed yet, and their skin was still bright green, yet unfaded to the green-grey characteristic of adulthood.

This one surprised Alister; he seemed to recall a debate he’d heard before on the validity of orcs being considered people. They still lived under a tribal structure, so it was still under scrutiny how they should be counted in terms of laws. They were generally considered dumb brutes.

“Thank you. Please, come with me,” he said, leading them back to his father. They clearly became gradually more tense as they approached, obviously confused and somewhat scared by the time he spoke up to Blas. “I would like to free them,” he said confidently.