Fable - Ask The Only Thing They Fear Is You

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
The doll couldn't speak back. None of them could but his ones back at the academy could at least motion their intents. Do things to keep the conversation going. But not this doll. All it could do was limply rest in his hands. No motions. No reactions. No life.

Just like before. Same with what they had done. Just like before....

He couldn't give it life. Life it deserved. Not like the others. They took that away from him. They took it. They beat him. They forced him to do things. Things he was beat for not doing faster or better or at all. Silent intents. Always silent intents. How could he know? He just should. Always should. Never speak. Always listen. Never be seen. Always out of the way....

Nothing his peers did or said registered with him. Tinker just sat there growing more nervous. His comfort not working with his lose of ability.

In this moment the little guard doll rose and marched forth. Through the bars it slipped. It picked up the food left by Evie on the floor and moved it next to Tinker. Then it sat itself back down.

Tinker idly set the scrap doll off to the side and began to eat the food.

Zael Castomir Everleigh Ebersol
 
"Damn. What a shame. I like them beatin my face," Zael said, casually speaking the words as he chewed through some of the hard bread. He kept his expression straight and neutral for a few seconds before cracking a smile and winking.

Ever did have a point though. It sucked that there was only so much they could do. Whatever that guy Tonio did screwed them. Zael didn't mind losing, but losing when he basically had his hands tied behind his back, not able to give his all because of some dirty trick? Well hats off to Tonio for pulling the dirty trick on them, but that didn't make it alright for him and Everleigh and Tinker.

The pirates hadn't killed them yet, so that was their fatal mistake. All they needed to do was just wait for their turn to pull an even dirtier trick right back on them. That's what this came down to, really. Just like exercise trained your physicality, something like this trained your cunning.

Maybe Zael'd thank Tonio for the opportunity, right before he incinerated him.

Zael got some water himself and took a drink while Everleigh tried to convince Tinker to eat. And all Zael could do was shake his head. He truly didn't like nor want to see Tinker as he was right now, but neither did he have sympathy for him. Tinker was in a ditch he'd dug for himself--mired in a swamp of his own making. And Zael knew damn well that he, Tinker, was the only one who could pull himself out. He could choose Ever's encouragement or his own despair. Up to him.

I’ll make sure they’ll regret hurting my men.

"That's the spirit," Zael said. "But I'm pretty sure your stomach just said you can eat and think at the same time."

He was on track to polish off the lion's share of the food if Ever really didn't want any. Which would be odd. Even Tinker had finally started to nibble on something after one of his creepy dolls basically handed it to him. Yeah, whatever the captain had him doing, Zael and Ever weren't going to find out this century--not at this rate.

Zael popped another olive into his mouth and chewed and swallowed. To Everleigh he said in an offhanded manner, "If you get the chance, maybe you oughta talk with Tonio before this is all over. Make him show you that trick that nulled our magic." He reached over and poked her cheek with a finger. "Boop. See? Then you can turn off the font of poison at your convenience."

Really, that juxtaposition between Tinker and Ever was something else, wasn't it? Tinker acted like getting touched would kill him, and if somebody touched Ever normally it would kill them. Maybe there was a degree of exaggeration there on his part, but it still made Zael smile as if he'd heard a good punchline.

Everleigh Ebersol Tinker Smithe
 
Everleigh could never really explain why it bothered her when Tinker ignored her for some doll, but it took a lot of restraint to not pick up that doll and crush it beneath her spiked boot. Huh, perhaps she was getting a little hangry. Still, she made sure to glower at the doll before looking back at Zael as he spoke. She could eat. Or she could hold out.

It made more sense for someone else Zael to eat more than her. Why? He was stronger, plain and simple. Everleigh wasn’t weak, compared to the average female, and even the average male, she could blow them away with one explosive kick. But her shoulders were petite, her arms slim. Zael on the other hand was broad shouldered and well-muscled. She knew his appetite was greater than hers, and after the beating he got, she just felt it was better for him to eat.

Besides, sometimes she was too hungry to even eat. She’d rather feast when the captain’s blood was on her hands.

Zael,” she blinked slowly as he poked her, it didn’t even last a second and she could already feel that heat come to her cheeks. “Yeah, yeah, take advantage of touching me while you can.” She playfully rolled her eyes, before smirking at him. “But you’re mistaken.” Might as well share, even if it would cost her reputation considering Zael’s loud mouth. “I choose when to be poisonous, and most of the time, I’m harmless. Anyone could touch—“ Everleigh stopped speaking mid sentence, thoughts forming.

Tonio had touched her. She had found it strange, the fact that he had still had somehow initiated holding onto her shoulder despite her not needing to be balanced when climbed onto the deck. And he had done the same to Tinker, hadn’t he? She could remember that because Tinker had shrank away. What about Zael? Henk? More importantly, was there a mark? Everleigh sat up, and removed her tunic once more, looking at her shoulder.

Fuck it, of course not.” She growled, feeling over where Tonio had touched her originally. She then inspected her tunic, hoping to see some sort of rune or mark, but nothing came up. She then glanced at Zael. “Did Tonio touch you anywhere when you first came on board?” She asked, but she was already sliding over to him and tugging at his shirt around the collar and shoulder area, even looking at his back. No mark, or at least not anything distinguishable enough or out of the ordinary.

Tonio’s touch, his magic, could penetrate through clothes. Or rather, clothes weren’t an obstacle for the magic to work. Perhaps there wasn’t a physical obstacle? Everleigh’s dark brows narrowed in thought. Tonio was the reason why they couldn’t use magic. How he had managed it was a mystery, but touch seemed to be the key. But he had patted Tinker, not held onto him. Could only one hand block magic or was it both?

Tonio can’t be a null. He doesn’t seem to wear any null armor. Maybe he’s like Meredith? Only he can’t use our powers, just makes us unable to use them?” She suggested, looking up at the ceiling. “Maybe we need to get him to touch us again?” She shook her head. No he had removed her weapons from her while the captain held her still. “Or we wait until his magic runs out. He has to have a limit.

Tinker Smithe Zael Castomir
 
Energy returned to limbs. To core. To mind. Lessons long past faded. Sunk deep into memory's abyss where they belonged.

Tinker felt lighter. Calmer. More stable. Less a man. More a doll.

Yes. Yes. Yes....

Tinker kept his eyes on the little anirian soldier doll guarding him, them, from unknown danger. A tireless guardian. Sentry was good at that. Good at watching. Good at waiting. Good at doing when the time came. He was safe. Unharmed. Bruises were nothing but discoloration of flesh. Pointless reminders of his imperfections....

The pirates had said something when he was being treated like a disrespected doll. What was it? His peers would wish to know it. Knowledge was vital. Key. The most important factor for survival. Evie would understand. That guy might not.

"Beasts." It had come to him in a flash.

"Taking us to fight beasts. Like scorpion friend."

Tinker rested a hand near his clothing and the little scorpion from before emerged. How it had not been triggered and taken him and the ship with him during his beatings was a mystery. Perhaps it held a stronger sense of survival than its kind's suicidal anatomy suggested? Perhaps all of them did and what had happened on their first boat was no mere accident.... He did not know enough to say, so it was still an accident for now.

The dreadlord in training picked back up his scrap doll from before. This time he began to critique his own work. Improvements to the design. Fixes to obvious failings. Sloppy work from a fragile mind. Too human. Not enough doll....

Zael Castomir Everleigh Ebersol
 
Zael filled in the gap when Everleigh interrupted herself.

"Huh. Wouldn't be the first time I got bad info from rumors. Either that or I got you mixed up with Trix. Now that's a bitch who's so ripe she can't turn it off."

That was the clique Zael never rolled with. Liliana's gang, of whom Trix was a part. Other than getting stuck on a mission with them, or just so happening to be in the same class as one or two of them, he stayed away. See, when Zael ripped on somebody, it was all in good fun: they came at it with rotten intentions, poisonous intentions, you might even say, if you were a cheeky bastard. Anyway, when Zael beat the shit outta somebody, it was to make them better; he drew a line, helped his fellow Initiates out. They didn't.

It certainly made him glad for the company he did have, here and on other missions, knowing it could've been worse.

Everleigh was taking her tunic off, looking at her shoulder.

"Damn, Ever, you can't decide whether you want to keep that on or off." Zael smirked and stretched. "I'll just have to go shirtless in solidarity."

Mirth aside, she seemed to be onto something.

"Touch me anywhere? Yeah, he put a hand on my back to--" His tone abruptly changed with stark realization, flat and with a simmering of anger, "--that son of a bitch."

Despite Everleigh having looked herself, Zael reached one arm and then the other around to pat and paw at his back, certain that he would feel something there but coming up short. Everleigh theorized in the meantime, and Zael added his commentary at the end.

Or would have, if Tinker hadn't spoken first.

"Hey, there he is. Now if we can just get you to upgrade to complete sentences, hell, I'll graduate you myself."

Zael was grinning in the wake of his jest, but, in the background, he was considering what Tinker had said. The man, after all, had the direct line to the captain for a good hour or two there. Beasts, taking us to fight beasts.

Zael clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He let out a rueful scoff, and spoke in general to both Everleigh and Tinker. "'Beasts.' Well, tell you what, they sure don't need us for monster huntin. All the trouble they're goin through? It's gotta be for somethin else."

Tinker Smithe Everleigh Ebersol
 
Everleigh’s face openly soured at the mention of Trix. She openly showed her disdain to that classmate consistently. Why? Because she was constantly being compared to her. If she ever messed up the slightest bit on everything, the proctors would immediately compare her to Trix, and Everleigh still couldn’t figure out why.

Things were clicking in place, though, especially when Tinker spoke up. Even though Everleigh frowned when that freaking scorpion appeared. Where that thing had been hiding, Everleigh did not want to know. But could it be useful? Probably not, because in reality, Everleigh couldn’t control it. Didn’t matter if Tinker or Zael could handle it, but one wrong move could be the end of everything for them. She took a deep breath. No, they were a team right now, she didn’t need to do everything.

We’re not hunting monsters,” Everleigh said in regard to Zael’s comment. She glanced at Tinker. “They mentioned a lanista. They own slaves, but their slaves aren’t used for housekeeping or manual labor. They find powerful people and force them to fight in a arena. Usually, it’s one on one, but maybe…” Everleigh was quiet for a second, processing for a moment more. She dipped her head low to hide her wolfish grin. “I think they plan to sell us off for coin, surely those who can use magic are in high demand, and we’re supposed to fight whatever they throw at us.”

A frisson coursed through her. Her imagination went wild. The original mission was just to make sure precious cargo didn’t get stolen. But this was a grand turn of events. She glanced at Tinker, then at Zael, and then at the unconscious initiate.

We should stay.” Everleigh said softly, looking at her tunic in her hands, her lips twitching up. “I want to know what beasts they have that they think are so dangerous that dreadlords can’t handle it.” A dragon? A kraken? Some giant griffin? It had to be something big, something far more magnificent than a measly scorpion. Everleigh could feel it, it was her intuition speaking, and her gut was never wrong.

It might be a fun little vacation for us.” A vacation filled with danger and excitement, just how Everleigh liked it.

Zael Castomir Tinker Smithe
 
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"A fun little vacation... I take it we're not home then?"

The voice was low, weak and throaty, but undoubtedly that of their elder classmate. Henk hadn't moved from his supine position on the floor of the cell, but his piercingly cerulean eyes had now opened, staring glassily at the ceiling over his head. He'd no idea how long he'd been out, or what had transpired in the time since their escape from the vessel, but if Everleigh's words and his surroundings were anything to go by...

Things hadn't improved much, and he'd slept through the hardship of his fellow initiates.

Damn him.

It was almost a sad sight, to see the pain in the eyes of the usual tall and stalwart light-bender as he sat himself up. Said pain was not physical, but an injury to his pride. He'd been dispatched so easily, forcing his companions to carry him as dead weight to wherever the hell they were now. That they were all still alive was the only solace he could take in his own weakness. "Tinker, Zael..." He sized both of them up. Tinker was looking a bit worse for wear, but Zael seemed relatively unharmed, if not a bit more subdued than he had been last Henk saw him. "I'm glad you're both alive. I don't know what I would have done if you'd been lost to us and I could have prevented such a thing..."

Henk would turn his attention to the woman of their group, nodding his head to her. "Everleigh. The same goes for you. I'm sorry, I should have been beside you through... this." He had heard enough from her before making his return to waking known to realize that she had been the glue that had held things together as he recovered, not that either of the others were incapable. It made him feel some odd sense of pride. He'd always pegged her as the type who would be exceptional when the circumstances called for it, and it seemed he was correct.

"I beg your forgiveness... but what exactly is 'this'? What happened? I remember the scorpions, and the ship approaching us. Then nothing." He pushed aside the question of why she'd had her top removed, but he was noticably looking somewhat off to the side as he addressed her. He didn't need to be ogling his fellow initiates. Whatever they had gotten up to was far from his own business. "Are we being confined?" He couldn't be sure. Henk did not often utilize weapons in combat, preferring hand to hand techniques, so nothing had been confiscated from his person.

Oddly enough, his body felt completely devoid of fatigue. Shifting his shoulders a bit as he looked down at himself, he found that perhaps being under the darkness of sleep had offered him some chance to repay their strength with his own; his power was at its peak after the rest he'd gotten. "Water... Do we have any water?"

Tinker Smithe
Zael Castomir
Everleigh Ebersol
 
Beasts. Fighting beasts complicated things. People were simple. Pathetic. Beasts were cunning. Dangerous. They did not underestimate or be cruel. They were practical and efficient. Much, much closer to being dolls. Just not as hardy or lasting as one.

What tools did they have to fight beasts?

Eyes glanced over those in the cage with him. Evie's lips were moving, moving, moving. Normal. Common. Every day. That guy was lazily sitting about after having consumed most of the food. Worthless. The dumb one was still on the floor unaware. Useless.

None of them had their magic. That reduced half of them to just their muscles, which also made up those same ones' brain matter. Only he and Evie could think and have their physical prowess as well.

He had his guard and his new friend.... Perhaps an advantage?

Evie knew toxins. Perhaps his new friend could provide her with some to use.

Tinker moved over by Evie while keeping his distance from the morons least he be infested with their head rot. He held up the scorpion before her.

"Venom. Harvest?"

They had all the tools needed to milk the scorpion's venom on hand. A cheese cloth and empty liquids container. He theorized whatever was done to them likely was only blocking their output of magic outside their forms. If this was true then those who's magic also effected their personal conditions with beneficial side effects would still retain them. In Evie's case that would mean immunity to toxins like his new friend.

It also would mean he couldn't set that guy on fire no matter how deeply he desired to do so....

Oh, the dumb one was awake and talking again.

Zael Castomir Everleigh Ebersol Henk
 
Everleigh seconded his thought, and, more to the point, she brought up the pirates mentioning a lanista. Yeah...that's right, they were talking about that, weren't they? Zael's academics could be pretty hit or miss, and learning about this profession called "gladiators" elsewhere in the world was as much of a hit as could be. Ever put what was undoubtedly the pirates' plan into the spoken word, and, well fuck, Zael had to say that this was turning out to be WAY better than his original idea of a vacation.

"Stay? Hell, Ever, you'd have to argue me into escapin now." Zael wore the cutting grin of a brawler who just took pure ecstasy from the sport, and he cracked his knuckles in much the same manner.

And just when he thought things couldn't get any better.

"Henk! There you are, buddy!" Zael scooted across the floor of the cage as soon as their formerly comatose companion woke, and he threw a brotherly arm about his shoulders and roughly rocked him around in a fashion most excited. He let him go.

Ah, Henk, being a bit morose with that talk of losing people. They'd be fine, they'd always be fine. Why not? They were fucking Dreadlords. Fear was for others to suffer. And at the end of all this, Tonio, the captain with the girthy thighs, every last pirate, so eclipsed would they be by how badly they fucked up that all other terrors would shrink to nothing, and the only thing they would fear is us, hotshot, US.

"Yeah man, water's right here," Zael said. He got the small wooden bowl and filled it from the cask and then handed it over to Henk. Meanwhile, Tinker was having a chat with Ever. Alright, no, chat was too strong a word. This motherfucker's vocabulary was regressing to nothingness. He had just been joking about graduating Tinker if he upgraded to complete sentences, but damn, at this rate Zael wouldn't be surprised if Proctor Pallatrix actually made that a requirement in Tinker's case.

Anyway. Henk. "We are bein confined, but in the best possible way. We're about to be sold off to fight in a gladiatorial arena, hotshot, how's that make you feel?"

The enduring grin left no doubt for how Zael himself felt about it.

Henk Tinker Smithe Everleigh Ebersol
 
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At least Zael was on her side. Perfect. Majority vote, two against one— Everleigh looked over at Henk and smiled at him. It didn’t meet her eyes, after all, what the hell was Henk even apologizing for? For passing out? He was awake now when they needed him.

You’re fine, Henk, all you missed was Zael’s grand epic telling of his brothel adventures. I’m sure if you say please he’ll tell them to you, too.” She would’ve said more but there was no need. Luckily for her, Zael was taking care of Henk. He was being rougher than she would’ve but Henk was a big guy, the poison eater was sure he could handle it. Besides, she had Tinker to look after.

She looked at the scorpion and frowned, understanding what Tinker meant. But there were two things: the first was that if the scorpion had any sort of venom, she would just know. Couldn’t explain how she knew when something was toxic, but her gut always did. She had no such feeling about the scorpion, even before her powers were sealed off. Secondly, even if the scorpion did have some sort of venom, she wasn’t sure her immunity was still granted to her.

Tinker, it isn’t toxic.” Everleigh said quietly. And then realized something dire in that moment. Swiftly she grabbed Tinker’s wrist and held it up high as if he was raising his hand. Her other hand was also raised. “EVERYONE WHO WANTS TO GO TO CERAK AND PARTICIPATE IN THE GLADIATOR ARENA PLACE RAISE YOUR HAND.” There. Majority vote. Three against one. Everleigh didn’t even bother to hide her impish grin.

And then in an act of karma, the scorpion stabbed the back of Everleigh’s hand.

Tinker Smithe Henk Zael Castomir
 
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She was taking forever to respond. She never took long to respond. It was annoying that she never did but was also one of her better traits. She didn't waste his time in that way at least.... But she was taking forever to respond....

Not toxic. The scorpion was not toxic.

Tinker frowned.

This was unexpected. A scorpion without venom yet with wings and could explode. What a mysterious creature. Was there a reason for it or was this one just born deformed? He held no other friend to compare it to so that line of study was not possible. Not right now. Perhaps in the future he coul-

SHE TOUCHED HIM!

Evie held his arm and had raised it up when he was in thought. And she was yelling right into his ear as well. If he had his magic right now there would have been a particularly violent explosion of energy out of him. Instead he had to settle for scrambling away from her as his friend defended him from her before returning to him on its angelic wings.

Tinker caught the scorpion with care and then began to look it over anew. Instead of venom it had done something akin to a spark. One like he was use to seeing when striking metal on his anvil. So no venom but this spark. Curious. He would need to adjust his thinking and how his new friend could aid them later on.

Studying he was doing as far away from everyone in the cage as possible. Yes even her.

Everleigh Ebersol Zael Castomir Henk
 
There was a transient moment after witnessing the display put on by his three counterparts in response to his waking that threatened to make him wish he'd stayed in the dark. While Zael shook him about as though they'd simply been friends split apart for a few months, Tinker was scrambling away from Everleigh as though her touch was the flames of the Underworld itself, cradling one of those damned scorpions that had gotten them into this situation itself.

So not only were they imprisoned, he observed as he quietly sipped some of the water into his absolutely parched mouth, but they still had some of the damned scorpions crawling around, and his fellow Dreadlords were in no hurry to escape given the opportunity to fight in slave battles. Maybe Everleigh wasn't as responsible as he'd given her credit for... Normally he'd be a slight bit angry at such a choice being made without his opinion, but given he was lucky just to be alive, all he could do was try and reiterate what he'd just been told between sips.

"You want to go to the Black Bay..." Henk began, setting his bowl beside him with a soft sigh and rubbing the back of his aching neck with his hand. Gods, he needed a bath, at least a warm shower. "And submit to slavery..." This made his temples ache just to think about. "So we can fight in some glorified slaughter pit? That might be one of the most hair-brained ideas I've ever heard." The slightly elder initiate looked between Everleigh and Zael, disregarding Tinker for the sole fact he doubted he had any part in this. "You know if the Academy learns of this, of our accepting servitude to mere slavers, we'll be dogmeat. It goes against everything we've been taught."

Oh, they knew damned well, but they also weren't thinking that far ahead, he'd wager. "How far out are we? Do you have any idea how long we've been deployed?"

Everleigh Ebersol Zael Castomir Tinker Smithe
 
Zael's hand immediately shot up.

"Right here! We're gonna fight and we're gonna kick some ass!"

Honestly, wasn't this what the Academy had been preparing them all for? To fight? Some gladiator arena ought to be a breeze. Ought to be, or else all their years of training their magic and honing their bodies would be for nothing. Hey, never you mind that they'd gotten caught in the first place. It was on them to fight their way out now--through that arena in spectacular fashion.

Ever got stung, Tinker retreated to the Tinker corner, and Henk had to intrude with the voice of reason.

You want to go to the Black Bay...and submit to slavery...so we can fight in some glorified slaughter pit?

"Yeah."

That might be one of the most hair-brained ideas I've ever heard.

Zael just displayed a grin so impish an actual demon somewhere probably had to turn in its horns. And when Henk spoke of the Academy? Heh, there wasn't a more perfect way to fuel Zael's recalcitrant nature. Rash? You fuckin bet. It was going to piss off the Proctors sure as hell, but what were they really gonna do? Especially since, if they were in front of Proctors anyway, they will have made it back home all of their own accord?

How far out are we? Do you have any idea how long we've been deployed?

"Look man, doesn't matter. Listen. Henk. We're gonna do exactly what these dumbfuck want because they have no idea who they're really messin with. We're gonna beat their little game, and then beat them. Hey, think of it this way: we can take them prisoner. Walk their sorry asses all the way to Vel Anir for a humiliating trial. How's that, huh?"

Everleigh Ebersol Tinker Smithe Henk
 
Fuck, that hurts,Everleigh hissed, waving her hand out of reflex as the scorpion then went back to fly towards Tinker. What was it with bugs liking Tinker? Did they share some sort of hive mind? She frowned, inspecting the back of her hand and seeing that where the scorpion had stabbed her, her skin had peeled off, the blister already popping to revealing moist pink flesh. She glared over at Tinker.

Don’t you run away from me.Evie seethed, standing up and storming over to him. “I’m gonna take that scorpion and smash int underneath my fucking foot or so—“ she looked over, hearing Henk’s last few sentences. She raised a brow quizzically at the large initiate and shook her head. And then Zael’s answer was… well, it was an answer. She looked down at Tinker.

It’s not a stupid idea,” she said, as she was peering over at Tinker, trying to figure out where that scorpion was hiding. She was going to kill it and she would relish the moment it’s tiny little body was squished underneath her boot. “One of the pirates, Tonio, he can suppress our powers. The academy would be kissing our asses for bringing such a man like him to them.” Everleigh paused her search for a moment and then glanced at Henk and Zael, a wolfish grin marring her fair features.

You guys realize my marks are the highest here, right? Let me tell you why, because every mission I do, I do more than what they ask of me. We’re fucked, not because we’re here, but because Pasiphae is at the bottom of the ocean and precious cargo is lost. Not our fault, right? But why on Kress’ cursed name would we go back empty handed? I’d never go back empty handed, I don’t have that luxury.” Everleigh shook her head vehemently, thinking back to her mission with Liliana Lorel. She may not have saved the noble the mission originally wanted her to but she had brought back those strange collars that minimized magic and controlled whoever wore them. And disbanded a fanatic cult. So instead of being punished, she had been praised— if only because the noble lost was a very, very minor noble, thank goodness. “I’m about to teach you all how to be a A plus-plus student at Vel Anir’s Academy for Human Weapons.

A deep breath.

I already have a plan. But we need to be at Cerak At’thul for it to happen so—“ Everleigh stopped speaking as she heard footsteps coming down towards them once again. She was still, and as the door opened, she kept her face collected from what she really felt.

It was a orc who opened the door, massive in width and height, his green skin deeply scarred, at least from what the poison eater could make of it. He locked eyes with Everleigh and came over, a lascivious smirk on his dark green lips.

“The boys want to have some fun before we reach the port in the morning. Ever heard of strip poker?” He said as he began unlocking the cage.

Strip poker?” Everleigh tilted her head the way birds did, her voice taking on an innocent lilt as she gave the orc her best doe eyes. “I’ve never even played poker.” She lied. “We’re talking about a card game, yes?

“Out.” He ordered and Everleigh obliged, still keeping that air of innocence. Only her fellow initiates would know what havoc she could actually wreck when it came to card games. “You ain’t really our type, well, we got a few other elves with us.” He locked the cage back up so the boys stayed put. “Or you a half-elf? Didn’t know you could get purple hair, thought it could only be white or black, harharharhar.”

I’m one hundred percent human.” Everleigh answered as she was led out of the room, and then under her breath, “and a hundred and ten percent your worse nightmare.” She couldn’t believe her good luck. This was fantastic. Completely and totally fantastic. Tonio was going to be hers. High marks here she came!

Henk Zael Castomir Tinker Smithe
 
Evie had threatened Tinker's new best friend. The scorpion had hidden itself inside of his clothing once more to sleep. All those threats would be met with a glare and a frown from the Anirian to his overly emotional perhaps a peer if one used the loosed of terms. Her claim of having the highest marks was, of course, as exaggerated as her lies on her dating experience. She wished her test scores were as high as his.

Then the pirates came back as Tinker was trying to ignore Evie as well as the newly awake and already complaining one and that guy clinging to him. They mentioned something about stripping and poker, so of course she would be interested. She was always jabbering on about her games when he was trying to work. No doubt this would prove to be another story she was going to tell him 20 times in a single sitting.

After she left he turned his attention to the other two. The complaining one had brought up some question, which Tinker decided to answer. Very. Accurately. He hadn't stopped keeping track of all these things after all. They might prove vital later on.

Once all the logistics were handled, Tinker decided to say something to them voluntarily.

"Boat sank. Not sailors. Can't sail selves home. Fighting way out. Likely remove block for fights."

He looked over at that guy then added, "Escape then not after showing off."

There. He had set the lesser minds straight. Evie was doing a horrible job of such despite her grand bragging of having such high marks. His scrap doll had more marks than her and he had just made it. Now they just needed to wait for her to return or their docking at the port. Whichever came first.

Everleigh Ebersol Zael Castomir Henk
 
Henk let them speak, sipping his water with eyes shut as Zael and Everleigh attempted to convince him of the merit of their desires. Ultimately the elder Initiate knew that his opinions on the matter didn't matter very much; they were already in captivity, set to be delivered to Cerak with bells on. Nothing to be done about that. Even if Henk wanted to escape in his own way, he would not be able to do so without the support of the others.

And, if he was being completely honest with himself, their reasonings did have some logic behind them. Either way they were likely to be reprimanded for the failing of their task. It was not the worst idea to attempt some recompense before returning home. Henk still didn't think they realized what they'd be getting into; the Black Bay was a place Henk had been sent on a mission once before, and the sheer hostility that seemed to ooze from every shoddy crack in every dilapidated building in the damned city of Cerak At'thul was overwhelming even to somebody who'd experienced the horrors of pre-revolution Vel Anir.

They were Dreadlords though. That much was true. As long as they stuck together and coordinated as a team, they formed a formidable foe to any man or beast. It was settled then, Henk opened his eyes once more and his blue gaze settled on Everleigh, who seemed deathly serious about all this. "I maintain my dislike of the situation, but your point is also valid. Everleigh, I am putting my life and well-being in your hands here, the life of all of us." The chance of something going horribly wrong was always high in their line of work, but this was beyond even that. It was her plan, so this was her responsibility.

Still, he offered a smile.

"I have faith you won't get us all killed."

Henk wasn't entirely sure why he believed that, but he did.

Before Everleigh would be able to say anything in return, the guards came to lead her out of the cell for some particularly unsavory activities. Were it anybody else he'd have piped up or stepped in, but he didn't think the slobbering crewmen had any idea what they were playing with. Henk merely smiled knowingly to himself as she was led out of view, before nudging Zael.

"Three questions. One: Why was she half dressed when I woke up? Two: Why would you tell me something so blatantly fantastically false as that? and Three, and most importantly... Do they know who we are? Who we work for?"

Zael Castomir Everleigh Ebersol Tinker Smithe
 
Of course they fucking would. Sleazy, jagoff pirates trying to get off at Ever's expense. They weren't even manly enough to try and withstand all of Zael's naked magnificence, those pricks. Well, joke was on them. They wouldn't get the chance to have their masts erect at the sight of Zael's sculpted perfection, but neither would they get the chance for the blood to rush to their loins over Ever either. Zael hoped those seadogs liked the sight of their own pantsless, shirtless bodies, because Ever was primed to take them for all they were worth.

Which, granted, wasn't much.

Anyway, Henk.

Tinker had given his summary, which was both brief (objectively speaking) and exceeding verbose for him. Zael added his commentary, the one little bit Tinker casually left out, and Henk had some questions. Three, in fact. Ah, chasing after my own heart, are ya, Henk?

"Don't worry, Tinker," Zael said, grinning. "I'll handle this. You know I got Henk's back."

And to Henk.

"One: Ever was tryin to beat me at my own game."

"Two: Because it's hilarious."

"Three: Yeah, they know we're Dreadlords. Or they think pretty mightily that we are. Heh, and if some of them're too dense to know it by now, they're gonna find out reeeeeal quick like."


Everleigh Ebersol Tinker Smithe Henk
 
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[art cred]

Time passed and faded, and when Everleigh was returned to her cell (fully clothed) in the morning, it wasn’t much longer until the initiates and the pirate crew that had captured them were at Starless Reef— aptly named due to the haze of clouds that never seemed to vanish, making every night sky without twinkling light to guide sailor’s way.

During the day, it was much less intimidating.

The half-orc pirate captain, Lazgar, who’s name Everleigh had divulged to the others when she had been returned back to the cell, stepped into the holding room with Tonio and a few others behind her. One man was carrying a few shackles for the wrists and ankles, another had a hefty chain in it’s hand.

“Alright, small fry, line up. Ladies first.” The door of their cell was opened and in a low tone meant to be heard by everyone, “Try not to do anything funny like earlier, your lanista won’t take to a overconfident welp.”

Hopefully she doesn’t cheat.”

“He.” The captain corrected, the door opening and the shackles were placed on her wrists and ankles. Even if Everleigh was unable to use her magic now, she could still feel that the material in these shackles were similar to what the black guard used in imitating Null’s effects when it came to magic. Everleigh was certain that even at Cerak At’thul, their magic was going to be heavily stifled. The same action was repeated on Tinker, Zael, and Henk, and the four of them were finally led out of the room and up on deck.

The hustle and bustle of a port was like no other, truly. Seabirds flew over head as men shouted orders to one another, whether in common tongue or in a native language. Heavy cargo was either moved to or from large boats, and as they headed down the plank onto one of the larger main platforms, Everleigh caught sight of others who were being sold into slavery.

Shame they wouldn’t be able to escape their fate, she thought to herself, keeping her purple gaze steadily in front of her. Captain Lazgar and Tonio were in front and there was a pirate on either side of the initiates and two in the back. Even now with them unable to use magic the pirates weren’t taking any chances with their precious cargo.

Led down from the docks into the depths of Starless Reef’s first marketplace, a large structure could be seen up ahead: a grand white arena with towers and flags built on top of a hill behind the port. No matter where one was or how cloudy the sky could be everyone would know where the coliseum would be. Everleigh figured that they were being led over there but she was wrong: a sharp right and then a quick left and they were at a wide square.

The only good that was being sold were slaves, the poor sorry bastards that had managed to get captured. The captain strode up to a large and imposing man next to a teenage boy with a sour look on his face. Tonio and the others stayed back, minutes passing as the captain spoke to the duo. Finally, she gestured for Tonio to bring the initiates forward.

The imposing man was built like a warrior, broad shoulders and impressive height, clothing that strained against the bulge of his impeccable biceps. He also had a face of a warrior, scars crisscrossing on his skin that had seen little relief from the sun. He carried a behemoth of a great sword on his back.

Get them in the collars and then in the wagon,” the teenager said with a sniff and lifted his chin so he could look down at Everleigh as if she were nothing more than some rat that had managed to scuttle on board his pristine ship. He then turned away with a disgruntled ‘hmph’ and handed the pirate captain her coin. A rather large sack that was filled to the prim with gold.

Remember our deal,” Everleigh called to the pirate captain as she took the first step to walk away, “you’ll watch me fight.” The captain paused, and turned around, only to grin.

Gladiatorii don’t speak,” the large man corrected as he gave a backhanded slap to Everleigh’s face. Through sheer will the poison eater was still standing, and a collar was placed around her neck and then the others. Tonio tapped each of their shoulders and the other pirate goons took away their shackles.

They were led into a cart and before they could say For the Glory of Vel Anir, the horses were moving through the streets, heading away from the busy port and to a more residential area. If one could say that the large, sprawling homes with acres of land to each one was considered to be residential. The initiates remained quiet, even as the wagon was pulled into one of the grander homes, and they passed by livestock and fruit orchards and vegetable gardens. Further in the back was a cluster of small buildings, but was more impressive than those buildings in the back was the incredibly large sparring ring. Two men were inside fighting against some giant humanoid with four arms.

The wagon was pulled to a stop and the initiates were ordered to get out. A shout could be heard, and the sparring in the ring ceased. The three came to quickly get down on one knee, their head bent. Two others soon followed, a tall and willowy female elf and Letai man with a large pair of vertical horns on his head. The followed the first three and bent down onto one knee as well, the back of their necks fully exposed.

You four shall refer to me as Acevedo, or,” the teenager said. My golden lanista. The choice is yours. I require you four to fight any of my current gladiatorii. We use real steel, I’d try not to get hurt. Go ahead, choose. Hurry up now before I get bored. Unless you’d like to spar Pollhammer.” The large man grunted in response and somehow Everleigh felt that if she were to go against the man named Pollhammer then she wouldn’t be alive much longer.

Tinker Smithe Zael Castomir Henk
 
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It was all a blur. The rest of their time on the ship. Tinker paid no mind to his fellow initiates nor the pirates. He had better things to focus on. Mainly on trying to teach his sentient doll how to process commands without the magical link between them. It was like a puppet with its strings cut yet was still moving upon the stage. A test of his magic. One he had theorized was possible yet never had attempted to prove. More pressing priorities of projects to produce.

Soon enough they were being touched and cuffed and handled off the ship. The city they were forced upon was dingy and ugly and crude. No order. No planning. No purpose. It was a far cry from being able to be compared to Vel Anir. He almost felt sad for these people. Too bad this was a mess of their own doing. If they wished to sleep in their own filth then he wasn't about to stop them.

Too much talking was taking place. It was making it hard for Tinker to focus on his task. He needed to know what they were doing to suppress their magic next. But instead of quiet actions everyone just wanted to talk and talk and talk.

Then Evie was slapped. Tinker's eyes instantly snapped onto the one who had done it. Every feature taken in. Memorized. Evie could do with talking less. But touching. Hitting. That was bad. The line that should never be crossed. That man had crossed it. He would find his punishment sooner than he might expect.

Collars. They were using collars to suppress their magic. Rather simple, but effective. Like a blade through the throat to silence a man. The objects would be studied as they were forced yet again into the wagon. Too much touching. Far, far too much touching. Pointless touching. No need for it. They would obey. They had no reason to resist. Fools. Fools and their foolish touching....

Fighting. Oh yes. The young one that seemed to be in charge of the big, dead one demanded they fight. This one was studied and memorized as well. He was as responsible for all of this and Evie's slap as the other. But he wanted to see them fight. Prove his coin was worth it.

Tinker silently stepped forth. The big, dead one would need to wait. Not yet their time. If this fool wished to see what an Anirian soldier could do then he would get to see it. Any spare hammer or mace laying around would be picked up. Didn't matter if it was meant for war or for craft. He was familiar with both. In his hands they would be used to break something apart. This time it would be one of the fool's prized fighters.

Everleigh Ebersol Zael Castomir Henk
 
Off the ship and into Starless Reef. Talk about depressing, no wonder these Cerak pirate-types were all so pissed off—you just needed a little sun in your life, man.

During the whole process of getting to the sparring ring, Zael had a balance of anticipation and disgust swirling within him. Anticipation obviously for the fighting that was going to be had, hell yeah, his muscles were simmering with potential energy, hands ready to hold weapons or make fists. But there was the disgust too. How fuckin dare these dirty assholes—that kind of feeling. It was as if all the years of training and preparing at the Academy, all the blood, sweat, and tears, all of it had amounted to nothing in that moment when Tonio got the better of them. Twelve fuckin years man. Gone up in smoke.

But where Tonio and these Cerak fucks made their mistake was in not killing them. They still had their chance to turn all this around. To get their sweet, sweet revenge.

And that hoity-toity teenager and his goliath bodyguard were just added to the list. Who had the best handwriting? Definitely not Zael, and probably not Tinker. He'd bet on Henk—sorry Ever. Henk was all put-together and formal and shit. Yeah, he could write down everyone on the list if there was writin to be done and make it all look good.

My golden lanista.

Pfft.

Suck a dick.

Zael had to keep his rebellious streak in check for this. Besides, sometimes you had to string 'em along, right? Make the chumps in charge think you were playing along. It made the eventual payoff better.

And then the indirect threat was said. But to Zael, it was more a challenge, and he just couldn't turn it down. "I'll spar you. Pollhammer," Zael said, saying his name as if it were some made-up, self-aggrandizing nickname to be blatantly disrespected. "You'll be limpin out of here as Halfhammer when we're done."

Everleigh Ebersol Tinker Smithe Henk
 
Everleigh rubbed her jaw for a moment, looking at the five warriors before them. She raised a dark brow. What a small… group of warriors. A crew that hardly made sense. One young man, one older man, at this point, Everleigh believed them to be human. The humanoid man was seven feet or taller, four strong arms and a bulky frame. The tall and slender elf woman with pointed features may had seem less intimidating but throughout her entire frame was muscle. If it weren’t for her clothing, Everleigh may have assumed the elf to be a man, not a single ounce of fat on her but was missing a package between her lean thighs. And the half-animal man with a somber look.

Each person was well built. There was no doubt each and every one was a warrior in their own way. Each one would prove to be a challenge.

Cool, so, four-arms, you and me.” Everleigh said, picking up a rather traditional sword and a dagger as well. The weapon racks were well stocked but the weapons were worn. Specks of dried blood that stained wooden handles, edges that were sharp but the rest of the blade seemed dull. Everleigh looked over her items. The teenager had warriors, sure, but not well trained weapons. Her gaze went to Pollhammer as Zael issued his challenge.

Well. At least their golden lanista had one capable weapon. Possibly the only one. She looked him over and then looked back Four-Arms who had picked up four curved blades. Everleigh grinned as she followed him off to a part of the ring further away from everyone else.


Fighter: Thiago, young cortosi man.​
Tinker hadn’t chosen his opponent. That was fine. The young human man, not a month over twenty, stepped forward, clearly wanting to prove himself. Whatever weapon Tinker chose, it was evident that the young man felt more comfortable with a small round shield and shortsword. He wore nothing but a pair of sandals and red subligaculum. He was the least decorated of all the fighters here and was the one who had something to prove more than anyone else.

Follow me.” He told Tinker, confident in his stride. After all, to him, Tinker looked the weakest. And his Lanista had no use for weaklings.

Tinker Smithe

Fighter: Pollhammer, The Provocator, twice-champion of Munus.​
Pollhammer looked down at Zael, disinterest evident in his dark eyes. He looked at the teenager.

Go ahead.” The lanista said with a wave of his hand. “Just try not to kill him.” He added as he walked away. There was a large wooden chair on top a small wooden stage, and the very young man strode up to it with his head held high as if he were some sort of king. He took his seat and the moment he did a small, middle-aged woman quickly came out to fan him from the harsh sun.

Pollhammer removed his great sword off of him, letting it drop to the floor, a strong THUNK! Could be heard all around as dust raised up. The sword was heavy. Very heavy. He then pulled out from behind him a pair of wooden knucklebusters, slipping his large fingers through them.

Pick a weapon and follow me, shrimp.” He growled out over to Zael, stalking off to their own corner, creating a perfect triangle that allowed the lanista to view each fight with ease at his leisure.

Zael Castomir
 
The hammer he had picked up felt off. While his opponent was decided for him he took a moment to study it over. A few taps and swings with it told him everything he needed to know. The person in charge of equipment here needed to be hung. It was in a very shoddy state. Rust on the metal. The wood wasn't cured well. It was unreliable. Thing would likely break after a couple of fights or even a single one if the shaft took a hit.

A frown crossed his face as he recognized this fact. Then another when a voice told him to follow. His very core screamed to just stand in place out of spite. Who was this inexperienced stain to think itself better? The confidence in its walk told him that his opponent was as faulty as the hammer was.

Tinker waited long enough before following to get his point across. His point being he was not beneath anyone here. Especially not the runt of this mangy litter.

Once they were in position, he waited for this farce to begin. As soon as it was, he would charge straight in. Not like a blunt weapon was much of a defensive tool. Better to be aggressive and set the tempo. He swung forward not caring if his opponent raised their shield or not. He could just beat the feeling out of his arm till he couldn't handle any more blows.

...And the damned hammer snapped. The core of the wooden shaft was rotted. Not dry. Not split. Rotted. The rust from the head had gotten inside of it (because the wood wasn't properly cured) and rotted away the core.

This was worse than he imagined.

Tinker frowned once more.

So he was unarmed for this farce. Typical. Things always went this way when Evie was involved.

But he had no reason to change his plans. Best to stay aggressive just with a new approach.

The handle was throw straight at his opponent to get them to raise their shield up again. Tinker did so to make his next move easier. He went to grab the edges of the shield so he could twist it to throw his opponent off balance. That was if it was the strapped to the arm kind. If it was just the handle kind them he might be able to steal it from his opponent.

Depending on the outcome his next move he would either throw his opponent to the ground or knock them down with their own shield to mount and beat the ever living shit out of them.

Everleigh Ebersol Zael Castomir
 
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