Sacrifice
Sufficiently broken, everything is a blur for weeks. You are always kept in chains and put to work doing back breaking labor. You see other slaves drop dead in front of you from exhaustion. It no longer phases you. You drudge on, silent and dead eyed.
One day their is a stirring within the tribe. People seem frightened and begin to gather their personal effects, draft animals and supplies in what seems to you in an attempt to leave town. Eventually your handlers bring you and the other slaves to the outskirts of the Red Blades town. They cut your chains from your fellow slaves so you can maneuver more freely, but movement is still limited.
Chief Lurkol approaches dragging a wheelbarrow full of short, rusted swords and spears. He begins handing them out to all the slaves.
"A noble task for you all on this day. The vile centaurs of the Eqwar plains have declared war upon us yet again. This time they have raised an army certain to wipe us all out. For the Red Blades to survive, we must retreat to the woods and counter attack. What I need from each of you is to stave them off for as long as possible so we can escape." Many slaves look at each other nervously as Lurkol speaks these words.
You have always thought of centaurs as mythical, fairy tale creatures. From your memory, in every story you came across they were noble warriors not monsters. To you the only true monsters are the Red Blades.
" Your sacrifice today, means our survival. This is an honorable death and you should all be thankful for this great task I have presented to you." Lurkol hands you a dull, rusted blade that you think would better serve you to weild as a club. Lurkol and the other Red Blades begin to head back to the town to escape.
"Don't let the beasts take you alive! Surely that is a fate worse than death. Go to the great beyond knowing you have served your masters well!"
The only person you really desire to kill is Lurkol and all the Red Blades.
The other slaves are incredibly terrified. They most know something you do not. Some speak of running away, but the others assure them that the centaurs will run them down.
It is extremely subtle and far in the distance, but you believe you hear rumbling. Like a stampede.
One day their is a stirring within the tribe. People seem frightened and begin to gather their personal effects, draft animals and supplies in what seems to you in an attempt to leave town. Eventually your handlers bring you and the other slaves to the outskirts of the Red Blades town. They cut your chains from your fellow slaves so you can maneuver more freely, but movement is still limited.
Chief Lurkol approaches dragging a wheelbarrow full of short, rusted swords and spears. He begins handing them out to all the slaves.
"A noble task for you all on this day. The vile centaurs of the Eqwar plains have declared war upon us yet again. This time they have raised an army certain to wipe us all out. For the Red Blades to survive, we must retreat to the woods and counter attack. What I need from each of you is to stave them off for as long as possible so we can escape." Many slaves look at each other nervously as Lurkol speaks these words.
You have always thought of centaurs as mythical, fairy tale creatures. From your memory, in every story you came across they were noble warriors not monsters. To you the only true monsters are the Red Blades.
" Your sacrifice today, means our survival. This is an honorable death and you should all be thankful for this great task I have presented to you." Lurkol hands you a dull, rusted blade that you think would better serve you to weild as a club. Lurkol and the other Red Blades begin to head back to the town to escape.
"Don't let the beasts take you alive! Surely that is a fate worse than death. Go to the great beyond knowing you have served your masters well!"
The only person you really desire to kill is Lurkol and all the Red Blades.
The other slaves are incredibly terrified. They most know something you do not. Some speak of running away, but the others assure them that the centaurs will run them down.
It is extremely subtle and far in the distance, but you believe you hear rumbling. Like a stampede.