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The living conditions were deplorable. The smell of human waste mingled with the unclean body odors and a couple of those who died in the tight quarters was sickening beyond words. How humans could be made to endure the long journey of a slave ship was incomprehensible to the blond sailor.

The packed slaves sobbed as chained collars bit wrist, ankle, and throat. How the slavers would untangle the entwined bodied to unload them was a mystery to him. He tugged at his own chains trying to acquire a more tolerable position but the people here were packed too tightly.
The cargo bay of this freighter must have been nearly full before he and his shipmates were taken prisoner and shoved in this filth hole as well.

It had been four days as best he could tell from occasional sunlight peaking through the cracks and seams in the wooden hull.

He and most of his original crew were asleep when the freighters
Fast Cutter escort had crept along side in their own cargo galleon in the night. The second watch were most likely arrowed down before they even saw the privateers approach.
Well trained those pirates must have been, as the crew were weaponless and many already chained before they ever awoke.

A few of his mates were put to sword in an attempt to defend the galleon, but the battle was short. They were all taken aboard the slave ship and tossed into the cargo hold with the other slaves. Both the living and the dead. He had heard two of the pirates laughing about how they would be paid for both the living slaves and the corpses. What foul things were planned for the dead, He didn't know. But king Benagal had all but done away with slavery in the realms of Dathan. That knowledge and keeping the dead for trade, as well as the slaves, meant their destination was bound to be an evil kingdom or sorcerery and necromancy.

He dozed in and out of sleep. Being roused from dreams of more pleasant places by occasional dry heaves and the moans of the hopeless.

It was early morning, as far as He could tell, when the activity levels of the slavers above became faster paced. The shouts of men giving orders and shouting warnings could be heard above the booted feet running to and fro on the decks above. The ship and turned hard to the port, and his sailors instincts told him they ship was picking up speed. Time flowed slowly as his mates and the slaves around him eyed the timbers above. Something was happening. Another few minutes or an hour perhaps, He couldn't tell. But a loud bash against the freighters hull sent them tumbling over each other to the starboard side of the cargo bay. Wood splintered and groaned from the impact.

"GODS save us!" Shouted one of his mates."They done run up on a reef! Weez drowned get sure!"
Panic flooded through all in the hold. The cries of men above became loud and the clash of steel rang through the air.

"Mutiny? " asked one of the sods chained to me. I remained quiet, listening. The decks above grew quiet as well. Then more scurrying of boots. Someone threw open the hatch above and sunlight blinded all of us below. Cries for help, food, and water were sounded by those around me in many languages but the door closed again, leaving us in our misery.

Another hour or more found the hatch opening again and buckets of water and porage were lowered on roper and passed around. The first drink and meal I had known since being enslaved.
Whatever had occurred above before was ended and the ship sailed still leaving more questions unanswered. At the least we would not starve.

The excitement turned, once again, to misery as day turned to night and to day and to night.
I awoke to the sounds of grinding against the hull. I could feel the vessel was no longer plowing through the waters.

"We are docked." Said one of my mates. "We are arrived."

"But what hell do we leave this one for?" Asked another.

The hatch was again opened. This time to light of a full moon.
We were told to get up as a ramp was lowered to our feet. A slow procession of chained men and women worked their to and up the ramp. We walked in line across the ships topside to another small ramp leading to a dock. Across the dock and onto sandy dry land I finally looked up to see the familiar buildings of Port New Dathan. A banner marked the largest of the buildings with the crest of Western Winds Shipping.

My confusion was immeasurable. Slavery was outlawed in these lands. All I knew was upside down.
A cheer went up among those captive as soldiers of Dathan began removing shackle and collar.
As the weight of my own chains fell from my body I joined them on the sand. Too weak to stand any longer.
The soldier helped me to my feet and looked me in the face.

"Hey, I know you." He said. "You are summoned by Lord Benagal."

He barked at two other soldiers to clean me up, find me clothes, and send me to the keep.

"You have you an appointment with the king, Flynn Ryder."

The blond sailor dips his quill in the ink and begins a letter:
Lord Benagal, high king of Dathan. The last few months have been of great leisure. I and my companion Amberlynn thank you for the hospitality you have shown us after our great endeavors. I haven't spoken to those under your command, nor much to my companions Whitsell the demon slayer, Deceidon the valiant, Elethil the brave, nor to the loyal Captain Hal. I pray they and you are in good health. I feel remiss that I did not offer condolences over the treachery and loss of Fenrin. I will ask the gods to lessen the burden on your heart of that matter. I know not of the efforts to establish a constable over the uses of magic or even if such is still in discussion. Much has changed in our world since that wretched artifact was disabled. But you need no history lesson over our last adventures. I am writing to say that Amberlynn and my own heart is recovered and happy since those dark times and we are able. Ready to be of service to you again, should the need arise.
Long Live the King!
Sincerely,
Flynn Ryder