"We have to get out of here!" you whisper to your new friend. "I don't want to die here."
"None of us do," the centaur responds, "But we have no real say in the matter. The humans of Galtreya treat our kind as their livestock, using us until we die."
"Galtreya?"
"Yes, that is the name of this region. It's ruled by merchant guilds. In their greed they decided to enslave the non-human peoples as labor."
Another voice cuts your conversation short, "Hey! Shut up over there!" A brutish man runs over, brandishing a whip. He stands in front of you, his head only coming up to your stomach, "I'll cut out your tongues if the lot of you keep talking."
The man walks away but stays on guard nearby, keeping an eye on you. Minutes pass in this awkward silence until you hear him greet someone. "Hoy, Master Modont! What brings you here today?"
A hulking man draws near to where you're bound. At least eight feet tall and missing an ear, he looks like a veteran warrior. In a raspy voice, he answers the slaver, "I'm lookin' for new meat for the ring. Something big and scary to give the gladiators a challenge."
You break out into a cold sweat, this guy's looking for a monster for his gladiators to kill. You try to act as inconspicuously as a nine-foot tall minotaur can.
It appears the man has noticed you. "What do you want for that one?" he gestures at you, "He looks like he'll put up a good fight."
"Oh, him. Just got him in today. From what Ulther said, he's not much of a fighter, couldn't even resist a little music."
The warrior responds, "Skill doesn't matter, I just need him to look frightening, then we can gut him."