Private Tales A Life to Live

[Chasmine]

Being earnest wasn't something most people would attribute to Edric. While she had always tried to give others the benefit of the doubt, even Chasmine found herself questioning his words. Yet it wasn't simply because it was Edric who was saying them - but the histories tied to similar proclamations from others being farce.

Still, the lingering feeling that this time was for real wouldn't fade. Chas found herself clinging to that small, withered hope. She curled her hands up around his forearm, cold tingling against warm.

"Okay..."

A few moments of silence.

"You can rest. I will keep watch."

 

[Edric]

"Well, I've never felt safer." Edric said with a smile on his face, one that would make it hard to tell if he were telling a joke or not. But either way, his posture seemed to relax slightly, his back shifting against the hard but smooth stone, his head laying back, and his eyes falling shut.

It would not be long after that Chasmine would 'feel' him fall asleep.


Dawn the next day came quickly from Edric. Goosebumps across his skin waking him up as the dawn brought on it's dew. He took in a deep breath, hand rubbing at his face as he stroked fingers through his hair. He saw no sign of Chasmine, meaning she had seen nothing dangerous in the night.

With a satisfied breath he stood, wishing for a brief moment he had something to make breakfast with.

For a brief moment he lingered, then quickly snatched up the small remaining camp supplies. Anything he could use was good enough for him, and before a few minutes passed Edric found himself moving on with a bundle he'd not had before.

During the day he followed the trail left behind by those whose encampment he'd stolen. An advantageous move, as at the end of noon Edric came to a realization. "It's a city."

He'd said in realization.

"Or something like it." It made sense with all the marks. He was no expert tracker or anything, but those among Gilram's crew had taught him a thing or two. The signs in the mud were more than clear. Carts, animals, and shoes. It was all over, and a few miles later Edric was proven right.

As he crested a small bare and craggy hill, he was presented with a gloriously engineered city of steel, sheet metal, and primitive industry. His own brain couldn't quite put it together, but as he stood there he saw skins and species of all sorts. Orcs, Gnolls, Humans, and even what he thought were Hogboglins. Though most of the firest. "Holy shit, Chas."

Edric breathed in shock.

 

[Chasmine]

"A city?" Chasmine had echoed curiously from the amulet. She couldn't say why, but that didn't seem quite right. Something about these lands weren't quite what she would picture for a city of all things. A small town, perhaps, or village. Roving bands or clans of orcs - that's how they lived, right?

Not in cities.

The closer Edric moved toward it, however, the more she could sense the energy the populace gave off. Some areas within the Steppes were abundant with leyline energies while others lacked them entirely. But here it was a veritable sea of life.

"What do you see?" she asked after him and his shock, "Is it orcs?"

 

[Edric]

"Yeah." Edric confirmed almost immediately as he peered down into the chasm below.

Though he would not describe what he was looking at as a 'city', the settlement was teeming with life. Many people had carved homes out of the natural cliffside, but sprawling everywhere were beams of iron, perching from cliff to cliff like branches. Upon those lay the foundations of the town.

It was like nothing Edric had ever seen. "A bit more too."

He explained to Chas as he slowly stood up from his crouched position.

"We're definitely going to find a lead here." Edric declared with a happy chirp. "There's bound to be someone who knows something."

The Rogue said, shifting on his heel and immediately heading towards where he thought the nearest road would be. The town below had to have at least a thousand or so people in it, though he'd estimate it was closer to four or five. Surely someone down there would know where Maui was.

Maybe if they were lucky they'd run into the warlord herself.

 

[Chasmine]

What a lucky break!

Chas had been worried he would be stuck wandering the Steppes for days... weeks. Maybe longer. Though she knew little of the world beyond Alliria and Vel Anir, she knew at the very least that the Steppes consisted of a very large landscape that was not nearly as populated as the more lush areas of the world.

"That is... very lucky news," she remarked to him as he set off, "perhaps it would be best not to be too direct, though. If what those other orcs said is true ... her name may not bring the help you are looking for."

 

[Edric]

Edric stopped himself mid-stride, eyes immediately peeling away from the hulking mass of an Orc whom he'd spotted through the crowd and immediately started heading for. "Uhh...yeah, obviously."

He said, turning on his heel and instead moving deeper into the crowd.

"Maybe I won't use her name." Edric suggested, eyes flicking back and forth through the crowd as he searched the cat-walks. Signs hung everywhere, denoting shops and different merchants, trouble was none of it seemed to be in common.

Edric had no idea what the tongue actually was, though he guessed Orcish of some sort. Eyes flicked back and forth for a moment as he wandered, threading through the oddly diverse crowd until he spotted the sign of what he guessed to be a tavern.

Inside he could hear a mixture of raucous cheers and loud music. The thrums of bass and some put together orcish guitar echoing out to drown out almost all other sound.

He stepped forward, pushing through the crowd and standing up high on his toes to peek over the crowd. It was only then that Edric saw it, the pit within the middle of the bar, and the two men inside of it. "Oh look at that."

The Rogue said with more than a little curiosity in his tone.

 

[Chasmine]

"What is it?" Chasmine echoed once again. She was going to be asking this a lot if he did not learn to simply say what he was looking at.

 

[Edric]

"Oh, right." Edric said, slowly beginning to realize that Chasmine could indeed not see through his eyes. Beginning to explain as he continued to gently shove his way through the crowd. "It looks like a fighting pit, like the one in Deliv."

More than once in his life he had been sent on a mission that required him to fight in something like this, once even with Chasmine. "But, way more intense."

The Rogue Dreadlord said as he finally managed to push himself near the front, managing to catch a glimpse of the actual fight.

Below, in a pit that had been built into the steel branches of the strange city dropping down below the tavern floor, were two figures. One was an Orc, though an absolute brute of one. He stood nearly two heads taller than Edric, and in his hands were vicious saber like blades that each held serrated cuts within their steel.

Opposite him towered a creature that Edric had never seen before, though could guess it's name; a gnoll.

The beast was even bigger than the orc, and around it's feet curled a long blade like whip. The vicious grin on the creatures face twisted as it let out a strange bark of a laugh and suddenly shot it's arm forward. A loud cheer rolled across the crowd as the blade-like whip sliced the orcs arm, blood splattering on the scattered sand beneath his feet. "There's an Orc and a Gnoll, I think, both bigger than Sable and hell of a lot meaner."

Edric commented, and one of the patrons next to him let out a laugh.

"HA! Mean is right. That's Zogir, bastards killed a dozen men in the pits!" The Rogue dipped his head in a nod at the man's voice, though had no idea if Zogir was the Gnoll or the Orc.

 

[Chasmine]

Bigger than Sable was quite impressive. Sable Pembroke had been one of the larger, if not largest, Initiates of their year. Despite that curious advantage, he'd also been one of the nicer ones, too.

"It is not difficult to be meaner than Sable," Chasmine observed, "he gave me sandwiches when I was stuck in walls."

"Raaah-" said a very large komodo to the other side of the male patron holding a massive hank of meat-on-bone in one clawed hand and waving dismissively with the other, "Rottek mek hem dog meat. Put on good show for Chief, haa?"

 

[Edric]

"Ha!" Edric couldn't help but bark the small laugh at Chasmine's comment, thought he had no idea. His head shaking as the Orc suddenly shifted and darted forward, moving with a speed that even the Rogue Dreadlord found impressive.

The Orc dodged beneath the strange chain like blade by dropping to his knees and sliding in the sand. The serrated blades in his hand swiping against the Gnoll's thigh. Blood scattering as the dog-like humanoid bounded to the side to avoid anything more than a deep gash.

"Rottek mek hem dog meat. Put on good show for Chief, haa?"​

A voice called, and Edric turned his head with interest.

Ah, so Rottek is the Orc. Edric cleverly thought to himself using the Komodo's shout as context clues.

The two warriors fought quickly back and forth, Rottek moving with speed, while the Gnoll kept him at bay with the strange weapon, the two bandying blows back and forth in a way Edric had never seen before. It wasn't like back home, it wasn't practiced and careful, it was like he fought. Simple, brutal, and utterly effective. There was something about it that he couldn't help but like. Something that made him feel vindicated.

A whistle escaped him, and he whispered to Chasmine under the din of the crowd. "This is really something Chas. They fight like me!"

Edric mused with no small amount of marvel in his voice, almost forgetting for a moment why he was here as Rottek suddenly shifted his footing. Moving between the Gnoll's whip-like sword and flinging one of his blades towards his opponents face. A moment of panic flickered over the other man's face, and in the split second of his concern the Orc was upon him.

The Rogue couldn't help but loose a scream of enthusiasm as the two opponents crashed together into a ball of violence. His voice almost as loud as the Komodo's. "He's putting on a show alright!"

He called to the creature just opposite the orc that had spoken to him.

 

[Chasmine]

While Chasmine could not witness what was happening around him, Edric's excitement was otherwise infectious. He gave off an emotional energy she did not often feel from him, which in turn engendered as lighthearted amusement in the spirit. She had only ever seen Edric fight at the Academy during drills and sparring sessions. Before the Revolution, Chasmine quite often made herself as small and unnoticeable as possible on those days so as to be (hopefully) overlooked by the Proctors.

Though she had never once been pitted directly against Ed, she had seen plenty of others that had been and it had not been a pretty sight to behold. Chas remembered this and found her amusement waning now that she understood just what exactly was going on. It was most likely bloody, brutal, and scary.

Suddenly she was rather content with not being able to see.

She'd let Ed enjoy his time - so seldom did the young man ever seem to truly enjoy anything - and fell silent until the next time he should need her for something.

 

[Melfa]

With a giant mouthful of meat, the komodo issued a rattling hiss of enthusiasm as Rottek made his first move. These pit fights were a dime a dozen usually - forgettable and merely background noise to the surrounding market. Melfa typically ignored it and went about her day, but THIS day she'd come to see Rottek face off against the undefeated pit champ. Just like everyone else in the crowd had. It jostled and squeezed as more and more people filed in behind them, shouting and roaring their excitement. It stank of sweat and blood and the aroma of the local food vendors.

Melfa waved her giant meat-stick around in the air, hissing words in a local orcish language to tell Rottek not to take him down too quickly.

She wanted to be entertained, damnit.

"He's putting on a show alright!"

"Raaahaha- Rottek is great fighter. He watch Zogir many fights - Rottek know all tricks now."

 

[Edric]

Rottek didn't listen.

Melfa might have wanted to be entertained, but he had come here to win. The Orc knew that if he dragged it out, Zogir might just get in one lucky shot. The strange sword like whip was a difficult weapon to fight, and a single cut in the wrong place would mean it would be his blood wetting the sands.

So despite the ferocious shouts of the crowd, Rottek let out a roar and charged.

He moved like a river flowing around rocks. Darting left, right, and shifting his stances within the sands as the gnolls desperately flicked his wrists and arms. Maneuvering the whip as he tried to slice the Orc to ribbons. Finding no purchase, his feet taking backwards steps as Rottek came closer and closer until eventually, he bounded forward.

In a blue the Orc launched himself, the whip cutting lashing out at his outstretched form. Hand coming up as in a splatter of blood he seized the chain+blade. Using it to drag Zogir against himself mid jump. His forehead crashing Into the gnolls nose with a solid crack.

The cheer from the crowd nearly dulling Edric's senses as every man and woman roared on Rottek’s follow up, his blade driving into Zogir’s chest as the two went crashing to the ground of the arena.

”HOLY SHIT YES! YESSSSSS!” Edric called, throwing up his hands and turning to the komodi besides him. ”That was fucking amazing!”

He explained. ”I need to get down there!”

The Rogue called, almost giddy with excitement.

 

[Melfa]

Well, even if she wasn’t going to get the show she’d been hoping for, Melfa cackled with all the enthusiasm of a deeply entertained dragon. The crowd erupted into absolute chaos at the upset of the long-reigning champ, but the orcs in attendance were roaring with pride of the victory.

The komodo shredded another massive bite of meat from bone, making very little effort to chew and instead swallowed it whole. Her great horned skulled turned to look down at the young human, affixing a broad and fang-filled grin in his direction, “You want fight, ha? Melfa can take you to Pit Masta.”

 

[Edric]

“Fuck, yes.” The words left his mouth before he even gave it a second thought.

There was absolutely no doubt in Edric’s mind that he wanted to get into that ring, and that he wanted to dominate within it. It was a strange, almost primal urge. A part of him that had, in all truth, been within him long before the Academy had used him as the proverbial stick for beating other Initiates.

Edric liked to fight, and he took pride in that fact. He’d never enjoyed punishing the others when the Proctors had used him as their tool. There had been no satisfaction in it, but this? This wasn’t picking on someone helpless, someone who could barely stop him. This was a true fight, at least from what he’d seen.

The thought in participating in it sent a thrill through his spine. “Names Ed-err-Edrin.”

He said, stumbling over his words as he remembered Chasmine’s brief advice about keeping a lower profile. Thinking it probably best to use some sort of nickname.

 

[Melfa]

Edrin.

Had Chasmine been of flesh and blood she would have given him a strange look. Alas, his spiritual companion said nothing and instead felt quiet approval at his attempts to lay low, as it were. It was, after all, an attempt - even if not a very good one. The fact that he remembered was progress!

“Eder…edrin. Is long name,” Mahet remarked as she chewed on the difficulty of saying it with a forked tongue and fangs, “Melfa call you Eder,” and clamped a clawed four-digit mitt around his shoulder with enough weight and oomph behind it she would have crumpled a lesser man.

Without further pause, the komodo yanked him her way and bodily pushed through the crowd with no effort at all. She stood among the tallest and broadest in attendance here, though that may have only been due in part to the limitations of the space, but her way was one of familiarity. Clearly she had spent plenty of time here.

Melfa took Ed through the mess surrounding the pit, her bare, clawed feet stamping through sloshed drink, spilled food, and more than likely far less savory things. Up a set of metal stairs that groaned under her weight and to a catwalk platform that circled above the pit. There at the far side built into the cliff wall was an alcove sitting area that anywhere reputable might’ve been designated as the VIP lounge.

Best seats and view of the house.

There were some rather sordid, dangerous, and decorated individuals there - among them the Pit Master.

“Melfa,” grumbled a female orc who might’ve passed for Maui if she were a shade darker and a hand taller, “what have you got there?”

“Have Eder,” she said with a pointy grin and clapped Ed hard on the back to step forward, “he want fight.”

The female orc that spoke first narrowed her gaze at him as she looked him over and stood to assess the young man. She moved with the assurance of one who often dominated the area she claimed and the confidence of one who saw very few losses. The many scars mottling her green skin stood as testament to having earned such things.

“Another outsider,” she remarked as she leaned forward to sniff at him, “getting a lot of them lately.”

 

[Edric]

If Edric minded being manhandled by the massive Komodi, he chose not to voice his complaints.

As Melfa’s clawed hands dug into his shoulder, the Dreadlord let a small grimace flicker over his features. His new ‘friends’ hand pressing into his flesh and nearly threatening to crush the bone beneath as she foisted him through the teeming crowd of the tavern. A smile blooming on his face as he realized the horned woman at his back was somewhat of a bulldozer in her own right.

Those ahead of them seemed to pull away as Melfa approached, parting the crowd as though she were some old man of legend. A fact which Edric found highly amusing as he found himself tromping of the metallic stairs, the weight of the being ahead of them bending the very steel.

His gaze swept over those gathered within the lounge. Tracing over Orcs, Gnolls, Abatti, Elves, and even a human or two.

All of them were practically teeming with weapons. Blades, bows, and everything in between. Some leaning against tables or chairs, while others still sat strapped to person. Inwardly Edric reminded himself he was not yet among friends, and though he kept back his magic, the leash was kept short.

As Melfa introduced him, his eyes flickered over the woman lounging upon the plush cushions of a massive chair. Lips pressing to a thin line as he noted an odd familiarity to her. Head cocking to the side as she leaned forward and sniffed him. “Well.”

The Former Dreadlord began, trying to keep some of the cockiness out of his tone.

“Put me in that ring, and I promise you.” A smile twitched at the edge of his lips. “I’ll be like no Outsider you’ve ever seen.”

 

[Melfa]

His words garnered him a variety of looks.

Disinterest. Offense. Boredom. Amusement. Curiosity.

The orcess fell somewhere in the middle of it all, bemused by his youth and surety. Orcs did tend to value bravado and he apparently had it in spades - but orcs raised and honed in the wilds were quite different from most humans, even the capable ones. Wild orcs knew when to pick their battles. When they failed that test, they died.

She snorted, but it was not in derision. “Do you have a sponsor?” she asked in perfectly clear trade tongue.

“Melfa,” answered Melfa proudly.

That got the orcess’ attention, brows raised as she turned her gaze up at the komodo whose grin never once faltered. After a moment of consideration she nodded and beat her fist once on the armrest of her seat. A rattling of bones strewn from her own armor jingled in tandem.

“Haaaaa-” hissed Melfa with delight and patted him once on the shoulder, “Eder fight. Come, you take what you need from Melfa things.”

 

[Edric]

Surprise flickered over Edric’s features, his mouth still open from the fact that he had been about to announce that he didn’t need a sponsor. Gaze flickering to the Komodi at his side as she vouched for him.

Tamping down the shock, the former Dreadlord grinned wide as he felt the pat on the shoulder. Eyes still lingering on the Orcess in front of him even as Melfa began to pull him away. There’s something…

His thoughts died as within just a minute of stepping into the VIP lounge he was once again pulled free of it. The eyes which had fallen upon him after his boisterous claim either falling away or following. He did not pay enough attention to say either way. Soon enough they would all be looking at him anyway.

As he and his newfound friend stepped back outside to the catwalks, Edric spoke up. “Thanks.”

He told the Komodi.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Edric might have been thick, unsocial, and a bit of a brute, but he could see what had been done for him as well as any other. “You just met me.”

The former Dreadlord said with a bit of a chuckle. “But I sure as shit won’t make you regret it.”

 

[Melfa]

“Melfa warrior,” the komodo proclaimed with a guttural sound just short of a growl, pounding a fist to her chest, “Melfa know fighters when meet.”

They would soon be free of the noise, smells, and crowds of the tavern and pit, moving back outside to the gangways and scaffolded stairways of the cliffside city. Melfa lead him through the market foot traffic to a curious set of contraptions near what appeared to be the heart of it all.

Massive iron cages that could fit a horse with cart, or perhaps a minotaur of which they’d passed by several on their way. They waited in line and as they did Ed would get to watch as these cages were filled with denizens, closed up by wooden gates, and then a team worked gargantuan cogs to raise or lower a platform. The one they stood in line for went up, up, up the cliff face, drawn along a metal track.

“Eder will fight at night with other new warriors,” she said to him, “no killing in night pit. Only fight to show skill and strength. Win by blackout or forfeit. Eder know this now, haa?”

 

[Edric]

“Melfa know fighters when meet.”

Edric couldn't help but grin at the words. He wasn't used to getting compliments, especially not from strangers. Most people tended to avoid him, but it seemed that this woman…dragon…lady had no qualms with what he was, and for some reason that sparked a flame of pride within his chest.

“I won't let you down.” The former Dreadlord said, a small grin pulling at his lips.

For a moment he found himself marveling at the odd cages they stepped inside. Reminding him of some of the contraptions he'd seen when he'd been sent to break into that laboratory in Vel Zaphris. His gaze slowly sweeping until they found themselves leaving the steel rooms and wandering down more of the steel cat-walks. Edric's eyes slowly darting back and forth as they waited within the line.

“Got it.” He said, nodding his head. “No killing.”

Edric was used to that. On the proving grounds he'd had to stop just short more than a hundred times over. This would be no different. “I'll still win anyway.”

He mused, unable to keep the grin from his face.

 

[Melfa]

“Edric,” Chasmine whispered from the amulet, “who is the Pit Master?”

Luckily her voice could not be heard beyond his own ears thanks to the din of the market levels and the people they shared the lift with.

“Mm,” Melfa grunted in reply, looking otherwise pleased with herself, “winners get dinner, ha!”

Some time later, they exited the lift at the top of the plateau cliff and stepped out across flat grounds that opened up to the plains beyond and a tent encampment sprawled throughout the open vista. In the distance the lands dipped and rose, growing into verdant forests and scant grasslands. Herds of local prey could be seen dotting the hillsides.

The komodo strode lazily through the crowds until she came to a very large communal tent made of patchwork hides and leathers. Constructed to accommodate the large orcs of the steppes, she did not even have to bend down to step through the tent flaps. Rottek was off to the side, his wounds being tended by an orc Healer.

Melfa eyed the orc and issued a guttural call, pounding her fist to her chest twice to which Rottek bowed his head in thanks.

“Eder come this way,” Melfa waved him after her to an area in a back corner stacked with crates and bundles, “make chose of weapon from Melfa stock.”

 

[Edric]

“I’m not really sure.” Edric whispered back to Chasmine, his low voice lost beneath the sound of their boots on the metal cat-walk. The rogue Dreadlord’s eyes flickering around as they explored more of the strange hanging city.

“There was something familiar about her though.” He mused, pressing his lips to a thin line as he followed along behind Melfa. His head dipping in a nod of respect towards Rottek as they stepped into the odd-patchwork tent and Melfa let out what he could only describe as a battlecry. “I don’t think I’ll have a chance to talk to her more until I win my fight.”

Edric whispered quietly just as Melfa called to him, clearing his throat as he answered the Komodi. “Right.”

He said, following along and moving through the tent. His gaze flickering to some of the other Competitors resting and recuperating around them. None of them paid him any attention, though a few offered nods of respect towards his companion. Briefly, he wondered how quickly he could get that to change.

As they stepped into the clutter of crates and bundles, Edric finally figured out why they had come down here. “Oh.”

He said in surprise.

“No, but thank you.” The former Dreadlord said, as politely as he had ever had been. “I don’t need a weapon.”

Edric said with all the confidence in the world.

 

[Melfa]

Melfa gave him a curious look.

“Edric…” Chasmine gently whispered, “when a host offers you tea, you should accept it whether you want it or not. It is only polite...”

 

[Edric]

“Oh.” Edric said, probably a bit too loud. “Uhh…I mean…”

Quickly his eyes darted around the crates and bundles, lips pursing as he tried his best to correct himself. “Do you have anything…like…”

Slowly he raised up his hands, forming a fist with one hand and using the other hand to wave over his knuckles. Trying to do his best to paint a picture of a gauntlet or something of the sort.

“Something that would go over my fist?” The Proctors had never much stressed swordwork with him, though he was no amateur. The Academy insisted on some weapons training no matter what, and his time with Ral in Wissburg had seen his bladework improve even more. Despite that though, he wanted to show his best in this ring, and his best would always come from his fists. “I think the Dwarves use them I read once…something…knuck- I don’t know…”

He trailed off, not remembering the name of the famed Dwarven Bloodknuckles. Gauntlets which turned even the softest hands into bloody weapons.