Private Tales Muscle

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Kaius had been quite literally the only person in the place to take a bet on Elena. The odds had been against her, and he'd put an entire silver coin on her to win. The halfling looked quite positively enraged about the smug smirk on Kai's face as he tapped on the bar, awaiting his pay out.

"Ten silver." the little man grumbled irritably and tossed a black velvet sack of coins up on the sticky bar. Kaius brow slowly rose at him.

"Fifteen." he stated bluntly, an edge of warning in his tone.

"T-"

"Fifteen." he interjected, and the halfling shared a glance with the barkeep who gave him a subtle nod before the man conceded and slammed another small pile of silver coins on the bar and stormed off. "Thank you!" the elf tipped an invisible hat and added the pile to the rest.

By the time he returned to the table, Arwyl wasn't there. His head whipped around and the bar wench caught his eye, nodding her head in gesture toward Toren and his entourage. He swore under her breath at the prince's impatience and rushed over to join him as he was being ushered into another room. The two armed men stood in front of him, hands on the pommels of their blades.

Kaius' jaw clenched and he postured.. "Come, lads, let's keep it friendly, hm?.." his brow arched.
 
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"Just looking out for ourselves," said Toren. He was all smiles. He was not, however, all teeth. There were at least three dark gaps there. "Come on, let's talk."

He stood up, walking towards a door on the far side from the bar. The crowd had settled into a gentle hubbub as they finished their betting before the next challenge was announced.

"You know, some of my colleague wouldn't even talk to your lot," Toren said. "Me, I'm an open minded man of business. So what's your business. Short term hire? Want to buy from my stock? They'll do anything. Raid an anirian train, set a village on fire..."

"We don't burn people," Arwyl said firmly. Toren sat himself behind a table. There were papers on the table. Arwyl assumed they were for show. A man like Toren wouldn't be able to read.

"Like I said, don't care, just laying things out for you."

"Elena caught my eye," Arwyl said, glancing at Kaius.

"Did she now? Well I'm afraid she doesn't go for that kind of meeting. Tried once, took good coin. She bit his ear off. Not again."

"For fighting..." Arwyl started to say.

"Not unless you've got some serious coin kid. You don't look the type to," Toren said. "I was lucky. She was working in some damned mine with a bunch of elves flogged off cheap by Anirian types a while back. Now she makes me the most coin in the ring. However if its fighting types you want I've got all manner I can part with."

The flesh trader opened his arms, offering another toothy grin.

"You don't sell your prize pieces. But I got plenty worth having."
 
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The larger of the two men kept his gaze locked with Kai's, a curling smirk on his lips daring the elf to challenge him. Kaius merely sneered and shoved his way through when Toren lead them to the back room. These weren't good people, and this wasn't a good idea.

Kaius also glanced over the papers on the desk with a degree of doubt, and his arms folded as he stood a step behind Arwyl, glancing warily to the two henchmen who guarded the door behind them. He let Arwyl speak, but there was a pause in his natural expression as Toren explained where the woman had come from. Those from home who had fought and had not died had been captured and sold into slavery, either on ships or in mines, and it was highly likely that she'd been one of their own survivors.

He wasn't leaving here without her, and he silently pondered these 'others' that he said he had.
"Elves?.." Kaius asked as he approached the table, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of it and leaned.

"What's your price for her then. And you can give us a look at the others as well." he frowned at the man. He wanted the lot of them. He could see the toothless weasel giving Kaius a look over as though contemplating the coin he could make him, and it was all he could do not to smash the rest of his teeth out on his desk.
 
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Arwyl had a simple plan. No weapons were allowed in the building, but he could summon them whenever he wanted. He hadn't come here to dispense justice to those who would hold elves as slaves. He didn't need to sense Kaius anger to be swept up in the same emotion.

He just touched the edge of his magic. Or at least, he tried to. It did not respond. Arwyl's attention was drawn downwards. He shifted the toe of his boot to one side, exposing an intricate symbol etched into the plank.

"Ten thousand anirian," Toren replied. An extortionate price. Technically they could afford it with a few of the gems they had stolen from the anirian caravan, but they had to be very careful flashing that money.

"I'll take you to go see. Afraid we don't have too many elves on the books. Only pick up those with a fighting spirit and..." Toren leaned around Kaius to see Arwyl looking at the floor.

"Ah yes. You spotted the warding. No weapons in here and no magic either. The winer had a wizard put those down after a right ruckus with magic."

"Just thought it looked nice," said Arwyl. "Your fighters?"

"Out back, but keep yer hands to yerself. Some of em bite you see," Toren laughed.
 
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Kaius pushed himself back from the desk with an incredulous laugh under his breath at Toren's price, his head shook. Slavery was a bit of a touchy subject to Kaius and he could feel his muscles tense. He shot Arwyl a glance and followed his gaze to the floor, and he had to force himself to ease.

The runes made him particularly uncomfortable. Being unable to carry a weapon was one thing, but being unable to defend them both when their company carried their own weapons was an unusual sort of vulnerability for him. He was confident in his abilities when it came to fist fights but how he'd fare against three armed men wasn't a question that he wanted answered.

"Well, you treat people like animals, they soon start behaving like them." Kaius answered the man bitterly and stood back.
 
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This had gone south with one small revelation. Arwyl knew that they could make vague promises of money and walk away, tails between legs. He was worried Kaius' temper wouldn't hold out that long.

Being murdered in the back room of a fighting ring didn't seem a good way to go. Especially when the fate was placed against the lofty expectations of his family, and thus the charge placed upon Kaius.

"Please," Toren said, smiling from ear to ear.

His eyes fell to the pouch at Arwyl's belt. It wasn't heavily laden, but they'd been watched gambling with silver.

It wasn't a circus beyond the door. Arwyl saw Elena with a clear bottle of spirits. One swig went down her throat. The next went over her bloodied knuckles.

Arwyl looked around. He didn't see many other elves.

"Barrog is always intimidating," Toren said. He pointed to a human wearing random pieces of plate armour. "I'm assuming you want someone skilled with arms rather than with fists?"
 
Arwyl's worry wasn't misplaced. Kaius silently seethed and his jaw clenched so tightly he feared his teeth might break. His eyes cast over the slave fighters as they stepped out back, and he made sure to check the ground for runes too. He could feel eyes on him and turned to scowl at Toren's men watching him, their hands still on their sheathed blades. One of them spit at the ground, and Kaius huffed and shook his head.

"We want Elena." Kaius answered whilst looking over the human. "But we both know that ten thousand is ridiculous." he quirked a brow. He lifted his coin purse, now a little heavier with the added fifteen silver he'd won. He tossed it to Toren.

"You're a gambling man. I'll fight your best man for it. Should get decent odds for that. If I win you keep the payout and we take Elena. If I lose, you can keep me. Fair?" he proposed as confidently as he could.
 
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Arwyl couldn't tell if the gambit was ingenious or the most stupid thing he'd seen Kaius do. Toren didn't immediately pass up on the idea.

Arwyl had seen this side of Kaius before. Without giving him a direct order and calling on his royal heritage in front of the slavers he wasn't going to change his mind.

Finding out they had an elven Prince here and not just the leader of a mercenary band might just prompt them to put Arwyl in chains. They must have already been thinking of the price Vel Anir would pay, but that would have involved dealing with authorities who would murder Toren's cohort and burn this place down without a second thought.

"Unarmed or weapons?" Toren mused. He passed the bag of coin onto one of his associates.

Shit
 
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Oh, it was stupid. No doubt about it. But he fought back a smile at the man's question. "Well, lets put on a show, shall we?.. Weapons then." he agreed and held out a hand to shake on it.

"Who will I be fighting?.." he asked a little apprehensively.
 
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"Weapons...weapons..." mused Toren. Clearly the answer to that question had hinged on which Kaius chose.

They walked past a hulking komodi. Arwyl guessed that might have been the choice for fists. Kaius might not even have survived that one. A maw full of razor sharp teeth beat fists every time.

"Calden," Toren announced, looking distinctly pleased with himself. "Used to be a Knight you know? Ended up turning to drink. Didn't go well for him."

Toren turned away from them both and leaned closer to his henchman. He tried to whisper quietly, but Arwyl could pick up the words easily enough.

"Is he sober?" Toren asked.

The henchman tilted his hand from side to side in an ish.

"Good enough, Calden!"

A man who outwardly looked around the same age as Kaius stepped forward. He was more bandage than man, tightly wrapped around his shoulder and left knee. He looked as if he could handle himself.
 
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Kaius eyed the Komodi too, resisting the urge to rub at the back of his neck as the tension built along side his apprehension. Toren had all sorts and Kaius desperately hoped not to regret his decision.

His gaze narrowed as Calden stepped forward and the pair both sized one another up. Kaius had been in fighting pits a lot. Not that Arwyl knew much of his mentor's younger days, such information was better kept to himself. This moment, she opponents met for the first time, was normally used to posture and intimidate, but Kaius offered a friendly smile and held out a hand to shake the human's hand should he be sportsmanly enough.

"And our weapons?.." Kaius asked, wondering if he'd be using his own or picking from some rusty selection.
 
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Arwyl glanced at the long daggers carried by Toren's henchmen. If he could get once first he could cause some trouble. If he didn't then he would just get murdered for no benefit. Fighting someone with a knife unarmed was difficult and also something he had never had to do.

Calden canted his head to one side, looking down at the offered hand. Arwyl thought the expression that followed was watching the man remember who he used to be. Calden took it and gave it a firm shake.

"Weapon of choice?" Toren asked.

"We'll go with blunts, if the sword is your choice," Calden offered. He hadn't even heard of Toren's goal of keeping Kaius so the offer was generous.

Though it sounded to Arwyl that his opinion would change quickly if the sword was not Kaius' weapon of choice.
 
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Kaius’ narrowed his eyes in a smile and a respectful nod to the man as he shook his hand. He stepped back to consider his weapon of choice and his brow quirked at the knight’s offer, but Kaius’ head shook.

“Don’t do me any favours. We’ll do this properly.” Kaius insisted. “My choice would be an axe and shortsword.” His arms folded and he looked to Toren expectantly.

“Shall we?..” he asked, avoiding Arwyl’s gaze entirely.
 
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The reality of the situation was hitting home. As clear as the expression on Calden's face showed what he thought of the axe as a weapon.

Even if he drew a dagger, Arwyl realised now that Toren had a veritable army of pit fighters back here. Not all of them would be entirely loyal, but more than a few would take up arms to defend their master.

You must know that if you end up losing this I'll bring everyone back to get you, he thought to himself.

Toren would know it too. That was a problem. Given enough time to think it through he would take measures to protect his interests.

Kaius was brought good weapons and led to a different entrance back into the pit itself. There was a lane through the crowd down which the fighters walked. Arwyl was taken back the same way. One of Toren's men on each shoulder. Toren took the seat in front of him, showing his confidence.

"He a good fighter, your man?" he asked Arwyl.

"Yours?"

"Let's see."
 
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Kaius knew. But he maintained hope that it wouldn’t come to that. He had no intention of being enslaved.

He used the walk to the pit to get a feel for the weapons in his hands, roll out his muscles and breathe to calm his racing heart. He tried not to think too much about what he was doing and how much of a risk it was. He knew. And he thought of Riley and hoped to the gods he made it out of here or there would be no mercy from her.

The fight was announced and there were calls for bets. Kai’s odds were against him, but that was the point, apparently.

Kaius stood in the centre of the pit and cast his gaze around the spectators, settling for a moment on Arwyl before he turned to Calden. He’d been a knight. They were both men of honour, at least at some point.

He flourished his weapons and paced as he sized the man up, and as the turbulent babble of the tavern reached its peak he stepped close to his opponent to pat him on the shoulder.

“Fight for me now, and you’ll have your freedom. Don’t, and this day will be your last, friend.”
 
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Calden took several slow steps forward, the tip of his sword pointing down at his side. He brought up his longsword as if to touch blades as a gesture before they started.

"Fight for you?" he asked, his breath was heavy with alcohol.

The manoeuvre made sense now. Calden had simply moved close enough to speak in a softer tone.

"Get on with it Calden!" Toren cried out. "Sometimes he truly puts on a show for the crowd and other times he doesn't know when to start hacking people to pieces. No offence."
 
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"For me." Kaius confirmed in a low rumble. "And you have my word." he nodded and tapped the face of his axe against his chest and stood back to circle around him, so that Calden stood facing away from Toren and his men. He glanced toward the heavens with a few silent words and drew in a deep breath..

"What'll it be then, Brother?.." Kaius called a little louder with a flourish of his blade and he set his centre of gravity a little lower to the ground as though preparing to fight. Either way, he was.
 
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Arwyl had seen Kaius start many fights. He'd never seen him begin so passively. He didn't waste much time in finding out what people were made of. He was stalling for some reason.

Calden threw out a fairly toothless thrust down the centre before taking a step back. The clash of steel rang out.

"Why?" the man asked plainly.
 
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Kaius blocked the strike easily. There wasn't much in it. He frowned at the question and stepped in with his counter attack, though he made it plain, at least by a trained fighter's standards, of exactly what his moves would be, allowing the man to block and parry.

Steel rang out once, twice, three times.."Because.. nobody was born.. to be a slave." Kaius grunted between each effort before circling again, lifting his blade to point it at him, his voice low enough below the rabble to avoid any other human ears at least. "Help me and I'll free every last one of them." he told him and stepped in again with another downward slash.

"Decide."
 
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Calden took a step back. He lifted his blade high, ready to wing down to defend himself or to go on the attack.

He had never been a very noble Knight. It had been a birth right rather than something he had earned. Even now, he didn't even feel a spark at the notion of freeing slaves.

Not a noble bone in my own body, he thought to himself. He didn't have the energy for a revolution. He was tired of it all.

Calden turned towards the crowd. One sudden movement sent the sword through the air, tumbling end over end.

Arwyl jumped as it struck Toren, skewing him to the chair in front of him. The man screamed and then went very, very quiet.

Calden close his eyes and knelt down in the sand.
 
Kai’s body seemed to pause as he watched Calden’s blade hit home. The shrill cry of a dying man rang out across the sudden hush that fell around the tavern and then everyone lapsed into a shocked silence to stare, wide-mouthed at the scene. Kaius tore his eyes from Toren and looked to Arwyl with a single nod before throwing his blade to him in the dear hopes that he’d be ready to catch it.

A sudden uproar resumed, and people were quickly rushing out of the tavern to avoid the bloodshed, and Kiaus heard the drawing of steel. One of Toren’s men was already hopping the barrier and striding toward the kneeling Calden. Kaius hadn’t expected him to leave himself unarmed, and Kaius had specifically requested two weapons to ensure that Arwyl had at least something to fight with. Now though, he wasn’t about to leave the old knight to die.

Toren’s man, blind with rage, lifted his blade into the air with both arms, intent on slicing Calden in two. Kaius rushed him, and before the blade could fall he buried his axe so deeply into the man’s ribs that he had to use two hands to wrench it back out. The slaver stared up at him from his back, wide-eyed in shock as he sputtered and choked on his own blood. Kai kicked the fallen man’s blade toward Calden and turned to him.

“Get up.” Kaius barked at the man and held a hand out toward him. “You’re not dying here.”
 
Arwyl would have been ready to catch the weapon but one of Toren's guards was quicker than the other. He already had a blade in his hand. Arwyl dipped into his magic. With the wards beneath them it was like dipping an unprotected hands into a roaring fire.

He cried out in pain and barely summoned a blade from the tip of one finger. Using it like a claw, he raked his hand across the guard's face. It left a light of bright, bubbling blood. The guard stumbled away.

Arwyl caught the shortsword. It was bigger than the knife the second guard finally drew.


"I don't care," replied Calden. He waved a hand at the air in front of his face. "I helped. I want to rest now."

He smiled faintly, eyes staring into the middle distance. The lines that formed on his brow were a script that told of a life of twists and turns. He had little left to live for now.
 
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The cry in pain he recognised as Arwyl's stopped his heart for a moment and his attention snapped toward the elf in a brief moment of panic to see Toren's man stumble away from him clutching at his face and Arwyl armed with the blade. It was enough to remind him to breathe and he turned his attention back to the kneeling man and reached to grip him by the shoulder in attempt to yank him to his feet.

"You can rest later.. We still have work to do now move. Please." Kaius growled at him, trying to keep an eye and Arwyl and watch for any others who might be coming to fight for Toren. He didn't know how many would, nor whether his slaves would be loyal to him even in death. Calden had been a lucky choice. "We have to get out of here now."
 
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Arwyl was already on the move. The agile Prince using seats and shoulders - that had not been volunteered - as steps down to the fighting pit.

"Lock them in!" came a cry.

Arwyl was moving so quickly he was already passed Kaius, just as Calden finally groaned and drew himself to his feet.

"Fine," the old Knight sighed.

Two musclebound men moved to block the main exit from the pit to the back rooms. Arwyl stooped as he ran, gathered up some of the sweat and blood soaked pit sand and launched it ahead of himself at their eyes.
 
The first man's face contorted in a grimace, his eyes closed and he staggered backward a few paces, frantically rubbing at his eyes. The second man had managed to shield his face however and rushed at Arwyl with a downward slash at the young prince, putting their weight difference to his advantage.

The first man was already striding back toward them again, and Kaius violently launched his axe which cleaved into the man's skull with a sickening crack and he was thrown off of his feet to land flat on his back, wide eyed and still.
 
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