The King's Command
You awaken to the splash of cold water hitting your face.
“Fuck!” you shout.
“Rise and shine, scum,” Darius answers with a cruel grin.
Several armed guards pull you from your cell and march you and the other prisoners from the dungeon. They lead you into an open, sandy area surrounded by a massive wall. Guards with spears and bows patrol the top of the wall limiting any sort of escape. You notice a balcony overhanging part of the area filled with well-dressed and fair skinned people.
“On your knees. Lady Myrr, your newest recruits,” Darius addresses towards the balcony while ‘helping’ the prisoners that are slow to kneel.
“Any potential?” A clear, articulate voice rings out from above. You instantly recognize Lady Myrr. Her raven colored dress hugs tightly against her, leaving no wonder to the curve of her body. Her pure black hair would be lost in the silky shadow of her dress if not for the exposed back.
“Just the usual shit,” Darius replies. “Perhaps we should give them the opportunity to show their value. Does the Lady desire a demonstration?”
“Let them prove their worth.”
“You heard the Lady. Swords!” Darius shouts.
While slaves rushed to follow Darius’ orders, guards carefully unchained the prisoners and warned against any revolt upon penalty of death. Expecting wooden training swords, you were surprised when real steel was placed in your hand. At random you were separated into two lines facing one another. Luckily, you are on the same side as Caitlyn. One line was given red ribbons to wear signifying which "team" they’re on.
“I can imagine you dumb goat fuckers need instructions, even though it should be fairly obvious!” Darius yells. “Last team standing wins. By any means necessary.”
“What do we win?” you can’t help but ask.
Angry that he’s interrupted, Darius gives you a look and continues, “Prove your worth to Lady Myrr! Oh and the winner will receive a full wine skin courtesy of the generous Lady Myrr.”
Darius cracks his whip signaling to start. The two groups of slaves rush towards each other clashing with the ring of steel and barbaric screams. Men cry out in anguish as blades find their way into unprotected flesh. The white sand is dyed red as each man falls. You almost feel bad about cutting down the ill-trained slaves, but you remind yourself that they’d kill you if they could. Each swing of your blade causes destruction. The strength and quickness of your strikes easily passes through the feeble defenses you encounter. Only a few manage a single parry before you rip them apart. Your group wins easily, only losing a couple of lives in the process.
“Give them their wine. Bring that one up to me,” Lady Myrr commands from the balcony motioning towards you.
After giving Darius a wink, you follow the guards into the manor.
“Fuck!” you shout.
“Rise and shine, scum,” Darius answers with a cruel grin.
Several armed guards pull you from your cell and march you and the other prisoners from the dungeon. They lead you into an open, sandy area surrounded by a massive wall. Guards with spears and bows patrol the top of the wall limiting any sort of escape. You notice a balcony overhanging part of the area filled with well-dressed and fair skinned people.
“On your knees. Lady Myrr, your newest recruits,” Darius addresses towards the balcony while ‘helping’ the prisoners that are slow to kneel.
“Any potential?” A clear, articulate voice rings out from above. You instantly recognize Lady Myrr. Her raven colored dress hugs tightly against her, leaving no wonder to the curve of her body. Her pure black hair would be lost in the silky shadow of her dress if not for the exposed back.
“Just the usual shit,” Darius replies. “Perhaps we should give them the opportunity to show their value. Does the Lady desire a demonstration?”
“Let them prove their worth.”
“You heard the Lady. Swords!” Darius shouts.
While slaves rushed to follow Darius’ orders, guards carefully unchained the prisoners and warned against any revolt upon penalty of death. Expecting wooden training swords, you were surprised when real steel was placed in your hand. At random you were separated into two lines facing one another. Luckily, you are on the same side as Caitlyn. One line was given red ribbons to wear signifying which "team" they’re on.
“I can imagine you dumb goat fuckers need instructions, even though it should be fairly obvious!” Darius yells. “Last team standing wins. By any means necessary.”
“What do we win?” you can’t help but ask.
Angry that he’s interrupted, Darius gives you a look and continues, “Prove your worth to Lady Myrr! Oh and the winner will receive a full wine skin courtesy of the generous Lady Myrr.”
Darius cracks his whip signaling to start. The two groups of slaves rush towards each other clashing with the ring of steel and barbaric screams. Men cry out in anguish as blades find their way into unprotected flesh. The white sand is dyed red as each man falls. You almost feel bad about cutting down the ill-trained slaves, but you remind yourself that they’d kill you if they could. Each swing of your blade causes destruction. The strength and quickness of your strikes easily passes through the feeble defenses you encounter. Only a few manage a single parry before you rip them apart. Your group wins easily, only losing a couple of lives in the process.
“Give them their wine. Bring that one up to me,” Lady Myrr commands from the balcony motioning towards you.
After giving Darius a wink, you follow the guards into the manor.