The Catalyst

[Ender]

Welcome to Catalyst, a new epic fantasy roleplay brought to you by RP masterminds Vhaeraun and Ender.

Thousands of years ago, the world was united. One race inhabited a large continent and lived very simple, uneventful lives - the world was at peace.

Peace never lasts forever.

No one is entirely sure why – the passage of time has a tendency to destroy any sort of accurate records of such things. What is known is that a terrible war broke out among the people. It raged for many, many years until one side slowly began to destroy the other. What was once war became genocide, until one group was the undeniable power on the continent. They declared victory, enslaved their former brothers, and began to build a great empire. They called themselves the Taika and named their new slave force the Faridoon. They christened their new empire Hakan.

Hakan covered the entire continent, and was essentially a feudal system – large city-states controlled land areas, all ruled by the higher government of Hakan. One of the first of these great cities was built on the north-eastern corner of the continent, and it was named Dardanos.

In the period between the creation of Hakan and the present day, evolution continued. The Taika, never needing to exert almost any sort of physical labor, were able to devote themselves completely to the study. They evolved away from the Faridoon, become more intelligent. As they delved into study and experimentation, strange powers began to emerge among the Taika. They gradually, as the years passed, grew able to manipulate the world and energies around them. This ability was called magic, and the Taika became its masters. Every one of them was able to use it, and it became the keystone of their lives. They used it in every aspect of their lives, and the most powerful almost always became the power brokers in the Taika society. The Faridoon, by contrast, forced into physical labor and forbidden from reading, writing, or learning anything beyond their trades, became progressively more dominant physically. The strongest and most physically superior were often fed better and survived longer, and as such the slaves as a race became taller and bigger, stronger and faster, albeit less intelligent and completely unable to use magic.

Fast forward to present day, thousands of years later. Dardanos is one of the most important cities in Hakan. It serves a major trading center, with the largest port and merchant district in the Empire. It is perhaps the greatest economic center and has the largest population of Faridoon outside of the capital. Over ten million Faridoon service a city of one million Taika.The slaves serve in every industry – they are miners, the farmers, the sailors, the fisherman, the cooks, the construction workers, the blacksmiths. They are divided up into their division of labor, and kept out of sight of their “civilized” overlords, living and working almost exclusively underground in a massive network of natural and artificial caverns and tunnels beneath Dardanos. The Taikalive aboveground in a majestic city of wonderous architecture. They are merchants, architects, performers (though never will a Faridoon attend any play), intellectuals, and politicians. They rule Dardanos with an iron first, led by the Archmagus Themis, a woman of great political and magical power.

In recent years, the northern areas of Hakan, quite isolated from the capital and most of the other large cities (Dardanos is almost a sub-capital, leader of the northern city-states) has experienced an unusual drought. Food and water stocks are plunging, and both populations are reaching the point of starvation. As can be expected, the Taika will soon be taking action to preserve themselves, likely at the expense of the Faridoon.

You are a Faridoon, a member of the slave caste; here is your character sheet:
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Profession:

Bios and physical appearance are optional – you can either give it straight up or flesh it out in your posts, it’s up to you. Sorry if you wanted to be a Taika, but I’m handling those guys to make sure the RP runs steady and so no one ends up god-modding with their fun magic powers. Plus, it’ll give you guys a common enemy – me! Vhaeraun with you lamers, have fun with him. I’m pretty much in charge of the Taika, but my specific character is Themis, the leader of Dardanos. You’re mine – I’m the master. Feel free to use Taika as NPCs, but keep in mind they kind of own you. I also might jump into some action some of you are taking with a Taika, just to keep you guys on your toes. Think of Dardanos as looking like an ancient Roman or Greek city, architecture wise. Here's a rough map of Dardanos. It has the general areas, the details are all yours.http://i183.photobucket.com/albums/x253/La_Poltrona/map.jpg
I look forward to RPing with you - we’ll start when we get a decent amount of members.

[Starcraft78cwal]

Name: Rak
Age: 21
Gender: Male
Profession: Blacksmith

Tall, lean, and more intelligent than usual Faridoon. Has black hair which sticks up in various places, and he is well built. Long scar on one side of face from a conflict with a Taika a few years back. Has his own secret workshop inside his blacksmith shop, where he constructs various things.

(I'm not sure what they look like, so I guessed they were humanoid since you offered no other description of the races.)

[Nostradamus]

Name:Drek
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Profession: Construction Worker

There isn't much to say about Drek. His big and hairy, much bigger than a lot of Faridoons. He gives his utmost loyalty to his employer (currently the Taika overseeing the restoration of the castle wall). His loyalty, size and slow speech often lead people to take him for being stupid.

[Biohazard]

Name: Brawk
Age: 36
Gender: Male
Profession: Pit Fighter

[Ender]

Pit fighter... didn't think of that as a possible profession - nice.

[kongurous]

Name: Sarches
Age: 35
Gender: Female
Profession: Armorsmith

Sarches is primarily an armorsmith for the pits. Nearing her Midlife Crisis, she has begun to reignite old passions she once had and now dabbles in a little bit of everything that she cares to attempt to understand but takes great pride in the quality of her armor and can boast that most of her suits remain intact and always keep their shine, no matter how many fights or how much blood.

(Can't run away from me that easily, Bio!)

[Holjfie]

Name: Detrix
Age: 31
Gender: Male
Profession: Lumberjack

Can't wait to get started.

[Protosschick99]

Alrighty Ender you have your wish! :D

Name: Aurinn
Age: 23
Gender: Female
Profession: Weaponsmith

w00t! :D [Bio later :P]

[MatGeo]

Name: Terohk
Age: 40
Gender: Male
Profession: Fisherman/Sailor

Terohk is tall, with blue eyes, a beard, not too long though, he has black/gray hair, his age being noticeable. He is reasonably strong, well suited for his profession. When not at sea he spends his time in pubs, bars, inns drinking and telling various stories which he heard or of his travels and adventures on the sea. Generally a friendly lad, though he can get pissed, and when he does, it doesn't end well for the guy who annoyed him.

[Tech]

Name: Snuva
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Profession: Miner

From a very young age Snuva has been nothing more than a beast of burden. His shorter stature has suited him well for working in the mines, and since he was big enough to carry a pick he has done so. All of his years of hard labor have made him very strong and given him an almost statuesque appearance. His work ethic has helped him to gain some favor in the eyes of his masters over the years, and as of late he has been allowed to substitute some of his time in the mines with delivering the ore and stone throughout the city.

[West]

Name: Riddick
Age: 22
Gender: Male
Profession: Brewer

At the age of 22, Riddick was rather unusual for his age, he was shorter
than the typical Faridoon, and is fatter, though he is barely fed. He was born
in a brewery and has been around one most of his life. He enjoys brewing new drinks and is
rather pleased with his slave job, though he is rarely mistreated by his Taika master.

is this good? :)

[Ender]

Ooc: Let Catalyst begin! And the first words of this RP are…

Themis had a headache.

All was not well in the great city of Dardanos. The entire area of the northern provinces, nearly a nation in their own right, was experiencing a famine of such intensity the Taika couldn’t keep up with food production.

Creating food from thin air is difficult - it drains a substantial amount of energy. Making enough edible food - and that is using the term loosely - for a city of one million would take four times that number working almost around the clock. Even that wouldn’t be possible since that sort of spell expended an incredible amount of energy from a mage, making any kind of serious food production impossible.

In short, Themis, Grand Archmagus, leader of the High Council of Dardanos, and the effective monarch of the northern provinces had a serious problem.

“Are you paying attention, Archmagus?”

Themis snapped out of her reverie. She lifted a hand to her head and, brushing aside a lock of her sleek, lightly gray-streaked raven black hair, began to massage her temple.
Damn this headache.

“Of course, my lord. I was merely considering possible solutions to the situation.”

She looked into the viewportal, where the Supreme Emperor of Hakan’s stern visage examined her slumping form.

“You seem tired, Archmagus. Is there anything I can do to assist you?”

Themis nearly exploded.
The sheer arrogance…
Themis swallowed the scathing outburst she was dying to release and smiled her most dazzling smile at the Emperor. It had been some time since their last rendezvous, but if the Emperor was possessed of one vice - and he was possessed of many - it was lust.
“My lord, I beseech you” you tiresome old lump of wasted flesh “for another shipment of supplies. Our granaries are, quite simply, empty.”

The Emperor shook his head.
“My dear lady, the rest of the Empire relies on the northern states for food as well. Your famine severely damages our food supplies. We have our mages and the Faridoon working tirelessly to maximize output, but unfortunately we can’t match your needs. We can’t afford another shipment to replenish your stores - the last one we sent was the last of our surplus.”

“That shipment was manned by Faridoon and Faridoon alone. Of course the fleet went down in that blasted storm; you refused to send me even one mage! When was the last time a Faridoon was ever allowed to navigate a fleet without a Taika in charge? Never. It has never once happened in our history.”

The Emperor’s face hardened.
“What are you implying, Archmagus?”
Dammit…god damn him!
“Nothing, of course, Emperor. Nothing.”
He smiled. “Of course not.”

The viewing portal disappeared. Themis leaped to her feet and stormed out of the Council room.
“Someone get me Overlord Abdul, now!”
“I’m here, Archmagus.”
Themis whirled to face her favorite tool. Abdul was Chief Overlord of Dardanos, charging with keeping the peace and controlling the Faridoon population. Abdul was also obsessed with her - again Abdul’s roving eyes wandered over her tall and slender, but curved form wrapped in deep purple and black robes. Themis smiled.
“My dear Abdul, I’m afraid we’re getting no help from the rest of the Empire.”
“Does that mean…”
”Yes Abdul,” Themis smiled. “It’s time for our favorite hobby.”
Abdul laughed. “Faridoon hunting. I know just the one to start with.”

*******************

Abdul was in the merchant district, heading into the tunnels with a team of five Overlords - Taika, trained in combat and suppression of Faridoon. As his team moved through a series of tunnels painstakingly carved by the Faridoon, slaves hurried out of his way. More than recognizing the blood-red robes worn by Overlords, they recognized Abdul. He was the most feared figure in Dardanos, with the exception of Themis herself, and his reputation for cruelty was legendary. It didn’t take him long to reach the smithy - it wasn’t very deep down or very far from the castle.

The Overlords entered without announcing themselves. The Faridoon inside ceased forging the tools they were making to stare. The five Overlords immediately headed for the small room behind the forge - the residence of the blacksmith - and began grabbing for any scraps of food inside. Abdul simply walked straight to the blacksmith and touched the rigid slave’s cheek with the orb at the top of his staff, tracing the line of a scar on his face.
“Good morning, Rak. It’s been awhile.” Abdul grinned malevolently. “How’s your face?”

[tag Starcraft87cwal]

[MatGeo]

It was around 11:00 PM, a cold night. Terohk was walking on a dark, empty street...the kind of street you wouldn't want to be on at night, but he didn't care. He made his way through the alleys of the eastern region of the city to a local brewery. It was one of the places he regularly visited.

He knocked twice, a Faridoon opened, and greeted him.

Terohk went to the peg and left his large, gray coat and his black hat. After this, he proceeded to the counter, while looking around to see if anyone he knew was there... apparently not.

"Riddick, how are you today?"
"Fine Terohk, fine, nothing interesting happened today. You? I see you've had a pretty rough day so I guess you'll want the special."
"Aye, my day was horrible, a blasted storm caught me on the sea, bloody awful it was, I nearly lost my catch." During this time, Riddick was mixing different alcoholic beverages required for the "special". Terohk continued "This blasted famine requires us to work overtime, but I can't complain, today's catch was worth it, though it won't change much."

Riddick handed Terohk the brew.
"Hang on, my boss wants something."
"Aye...thanks mate! I'll leave the money on the counter."

Bloody day he thought, cold outside too, I hate this time of the year...

"You ok?" A voice came from a chair near him, a pretty tall man, medium weight, wearing a dark-blue sweater, black pants, and black shoes. "You look troubled... you're a sailor aren't you? Bad day at sea?"

Terohk smiled, "And what a day it was lad! HORRIBLE! Haven't seen one like it in many years, and believe me mate, I have sailed these seas for too long."
"Sounds interesting, what happened afterwards?"

Terohk looked at him, he was used to this type of people, they came in after a hard day at work, and started random conversations with people they didn't know. You rarely even got their name, but at least you had someone to talk to during your stay.

"Well, if you're in the mood for a story...fine, I'll tell you." he finished his brew and left the glass on the counter "So there I was, on my ship, sailing, waitin' to catch something, and then... a WAVE, and what a wave it was lad, you've never seen one that big, I tell ya, almost capsized my bloody ship...aye!... but it didn't happen, I managed to deal with it, but it was a sign mate, aye... a sign it was. A STORM was coming... and a big one. I had just captured something, me and my mates were trying to pull the catch in and then... BAM! another wave hit us...a bloody wave it was, too..."

And he continued his story for another hour or so, then he left the brewery and headed for home, and the next day, he was back on his ship...

[ooc: WestDC, hope you don't mind me using Riddick.]

[West]

"Hang on, my boss wants something."
Riddick hurried to the storage room in the back of the brewery.
Slowly opening the lid on a barrel, he moaned in desperation.

"No.. what will i do?", he thought sadly to himself.
Damn this famine! with the Faridoon Field Slaves concentrating on gathering food the brewery will run out hops and yeast to brew beer! Oh how mad master will be! It will be many more lashes this time than ever! How must i tell him? well, I don't have to tell him. Or... someone robbed us.. someone has snuck into the brewery and stole our last barrel of hops..

"That's fantastic!", Riddick whispered to himself.
Slowly dragging the barrel, he left the brewery through the back door.
When he reached the well near the brewery he dumped the remaining hops
into the well.

"Well done job Riddick!", he said.
"Oh wait 'till sunrise! Master will be angry when i tell him someone stole from us! No lashes for me! Guards will just get yelled at.", He said heartily.

[Tech]

The steady clank, clank, clank of steel striking rock echoed through the massive network of caverns and tunnels that were the mining district. There was a constant cloud of dust hanging in the air as the Faridoon hammered away at the rock face in their chambers. Some were recklessly chiseling away to get at precious ore, while others were much more deliberate with their strokes in their attempt to extract slabs of granite and marble for construction. Day in and day out Faridoon would chip away at their rock, load it onto carts, and then near the end of their shift would deliver it to their respective destinations. These were the sounds, sights, and smells that Snuva awoke to every morning; this was his life, this was who he was.

*Thud, thud, thud* "Get up old man, you don't want to be late for the first time in 60 years do ya?"

"Ah bugger off, I've been doing this way longer than you've been around kiddo. Just let me get my tools and I'll be ready."

"Yeah yeah old timer, just hurry it up. They'll roast your hide if you're late, you know they don't care how old you are."

With that the old man's door opened and his slouched body filled the frame. "Would you stop lecturing me already Snuva, I'm the one that should be yelling at you. I know better than anyone what the blasted Taika do to our kind, I've seen it with my own eyes thousands of times boy."

"Yeah, and you've told me about every one of those a million times. You're just stuck living in the past, they're not nearly as bad as you make em out to be; as long as you're a hard worker they treat you right and keep you fed. Now lets get going, and don't think I'm gonna carry you there just because you're older than the rock we're mining."

The two men turned and started their slow methodical walk to the ore pits. The shorter young man standing at the same height as the taller older man, his spine bent by years of hard labor. From the time he was old enough to walk Snuva had been following Fajor to the pits. The day he was big enough to carry his own tools and walk beside him was the proudest day of his life. That is until last year when he was allowed to start assisting his old friend with his ore deliveries. It was what he looked forward to everyday while he chiseled away at the rock face, he was one of the few Faridoon who had the privilege of moving around throughout the entire city. Today he was really excited, today him and Fajor got to take their shipment to the smithies. He had always been fascinated with the stories of how the ore he spent his whole life around was turned into the tools they used to mine it; when he had finally seen it for his own eyes it was more amazing than he had ever imagined, and now he was a mere 12 hours away from getting to see it yet again.

[Starcraft78cwal]

Rak set about his work in his blacksmith shop, the crowds outside jostling for position. Although he didn't enjoy working under the Taika, Rak did enjoy his job. Sparks flew as he smashed down on the sword he was constructing. He admired his work; as one of the best blacksmiths in the district, (Rak liked to think he was one of the best in the city) he took his work seriously and worked every sword to perfection. As the makeshift bells tinkled above the door, to alert him of a visitor, Rak spun around, wondering what someone was doing in his private room. Still wielding his blacksmith tools, he looked rather intimidating. Intimidating to a customer of course, which this visitor was not.

“Good morning, Rak. It’s been awhile.” Abdul grinned malevolently. “How’s your face?” Rak just stood there, white with rage. Trembling, he raised his tools menacingly.

"Leave...my...shop..." he growled, spitting at Abdul. The customers brave enough to peek through the door gasped in shock. No one dared to spit at an Overlord, especially one as feared as Abdul. Abdul just tutted, like Rak was a child caught doing a bad thing.

"Now, now, you know that's no way to treat your customers!" Abdul jeered. Rak tried swinging a punch his way, but his clenched fist was stopped by some unseen force. Abdul threw back his head and laughed. "Nice try, but you aren't a Taika!" Rak growled and turned around, pretending to ignore Abdul. He took the bait, overcome by confidence. "Well, Rak, it see--" he was stopped mid sentence as Rak spun around and landed a wicked punch on Abdul's jaw. Staggering backwards, stunned, Abdul glared at Rak.

"How do you like being hurt, Abdul? Not so nice, is it?" Rak said with malice. Then, acting as if nothing had happened, he turned back to his work.

[Holjfie]

Detrix
______________
"TIMMMMBBBBEEEERRRRRR!" Detrix shouted. The large tree fell, the whistling and thwacks as the branches hit some of the trees around it on its way down claiming more attention than his call. His arms felt like jelly. His axe had been dull for a while now, and trying to cut down a large oak with it only made it worse for the axe and him. Awww hell, he thought, I only have, what, six more trees for today?

Sarcasm didn't make him feel better, even though he hoped it would. He saw his next target, imagining his boss standing there, and hacked away.

[Nostradamus]

Drek
--------

“Drek!” The shout soared over all the noise and commotion of the construction. The Faridoon immediately recognised this brash voice as that of Thalma – the Taika currently overseeing the restoration of the castle wall.
Immediately the largest Faridoon stopped what he was doing and ran towards the source of the voice. He was like a torpedo, knocking many people aside as he ran to his master’s call, earning him many shouts of “Drek you idiot! Watch where you’re going!”. But Drek was unfazed and skidded to a halt in front of Thalma.
“Yessir?” He said with a large, vacant smile and an uncomfortable half-bow.
“Drek. Where is the shipment of timber? It was supposed to arrive here today. We need that oak if the walls are to be completed.”Drek looked confused. Reaching back and scratching his head his face contorted. “But sir, you said... you said... that I should begin work on the gate as soon as the timber arrived. But the timber didn’t arrive so I couldn’t and... and I thought I would help the boys finish the buttresses”
“I don’t care Drek.” The Taika glared at Drek with anger and an air of superiority. “Why didn’t you come and tell me?”
“Well sir...” Drek leaned in and whispered “You were with your friends in the... the... parlour where the Taika go to...”
“How do you know of this?” Thalma erupted
“Well sir, you brought me there sir, I was your... your bodyguard from all the riffy raff”
Thalma leaned in to Drek, until their faces were but an inch away. “Drek you listen to me, and you listen to me good. We never went there ok?”
“But sir, we went jus...”
“We never went there Drek. Now get that in to your thick head.”
“Yessir. Abserlutely sir”
“Now go and find out where that timber is”
“Yessir” And with that Drek ran off again, towards the north road and the docks.

[Biohazard]

Brawk swiftly dodged a huge swing from a claymore. He followed up by smashing his flanged mace into the armored ribs of his attacker, causing him to cough up some blood. The arena roared in approval as the attacking Faridoon elbowed Brawk in the face, nearly breaking his nose. Brawk stumbled backward and assessed his opponent who was doing the same to him.

His opponent stood a little taller than him, though he was not as muscular. He was young; he barely had a scar on his body. They just kept getting younger and stupider. His armor was weak around the shoulders, his head was completely exposed, and his legs barely had any protection at all. Brawk advanced slowly, his mace gripped tightly in his hand.

The opponent hefted his claymore and charged full speed at Brawk, stupid move. As the opponent brought the claymore down, Brawk sidestepped the wide swing and smashed his mace into the opponent’s legs, crushing the bones underneath the leather armor.

The screech of pain from the Faridoon fell on deaf ears as the crowd in the arena roared in excitement. Brawk didn’t turn around to see his former opponent writhing in agony on the ground as he walked towards his exit.

***

“I told you, you need to start killing them!” Jaron barked at Brawk. The Faridoon warrior didn’t reply as he dipped his hands in a basin of water and washed the blood off of his face, “I’m talking to you!”

“I don’t kill,” Brawk replied simply.

“I don’t care what you don’t do, you do what I say or I’ll see to it that you never fight again!”

Brawk raised an eyebrow at this last statement. Time and again Jaron threatened him with death and mutilation because he didn’t kill his opponents, but he never followed through with it because Brawk made him too much money. He didn’t really understand all of it, but he had heard Jaron say something to another Taika about how Brawk was an “investment”.

“Don’t you ignore me, boy!” Jaron pulled a whip from his belt. But before he could unwrap it the door behind him creaked open and Sarches poked her head in.

“Brawk, how’s your new armor feel?” she seemed a little timid with Jaron standing there with fury in his eyes.

“The left pauldron felt a little loose,” Brawked turned to her, wiping his hands dry with a piece of cloth.

“You're getting shorter then. I'll tighten it up later,” she winked at him and left the room. Brawk did not share the humor in the joke however; he simply stared into Jaron’s fiery eyes.

“This ‘no killing’ policy of yours is beginning to wear thin, boy. Now, take your armor off so Boritz can take it to the smith for repairs,” Jaron turned to leave but stopped abruptly and turned his head back to Brawk, “Your forbidden from using that mace anymore. From now on you get swords and axes maybe that will give you some incentive to kill.”

As Jaron closed the door behind him, Brawk looked around his cell. There were no windows, the only light coming from a small torch by the door. There was a straw cot on the floor in one corner where he slept and a bucket for him to do his business in the other corner. He rarely used it though for he was hardly in his cell. When he wasn’t fighting in the arena he spent most of his time training in Jaron’s private courtyard. The only time he was in his cell was at night for sleep, which he was grateful for.

Brawk quickly stripped down his armor and knocked on the door. The door squeaked open and a young boy, Boritz, came in to retrieve it.

“Hi, Brawk! I saw your fight earlier, great show!” Boritz had always wanted to be a fighter like Brawk was. Brawk merely nodded and shooed Boritz out of the room so he could get some sleep. He was exhausted, he always felt this way after a battle. He lay down on the cot and attempted to get a little sleep before the next morning.

[Vhaeraun]

TING!

The hammer slammed into the anvil with near deafening force.

TING!

The sparks flew in all directions from the near molten metal.

TING!

The blade was twisted by the deft hand of the blacksmith as he shaped the edge of it.

This was life. Day in and day out. Forging new blades for cutting wood, or for the rougher of the pit fighters, or for anyone for that matter. He cared not, for he enjoyed doing it. Granted, he was never as strong or as tall as many of the other Faridoon, he worked harder than them all to make up for it.

The door behind him opened. The blacksmith came in and spoke, “Viri, you’re done for the day.”

The boy nodded before speaking, his voice seeming a squeak to the deep voice of the blacksmith, “Yes master. I’m almost done with this blade.”

The blacksmith nodded before clasping the boy on the shoulder, “You have heart, my son, but I’ll finish this blade. Run home to your mother.”

Viriatus nodded as he handed the blade and hammer to his father. Walking out slowly, he head the steady tinging as his father got back to hammering away at the blade.

He walked through the streets, smelling the familiar mixture of cooking meat, burning wood, and melting metal. The surrounding murmur of voices were dimmed as he walked through the smithing district, his ears dominated by the pounding of hammers on metal.

He entered his home and his mother said, “Welcome home, son. Work hard today?”

Viriatus walked up and gave his mother a kiss before saying, “Aye. I nearly finished my first blade today.”

She smiled, “I’m glad to hear it my son. Now, go wash up. Dinner will be served as soon as your father gets home.”

He nodded as he walked out. As he rounded a corner, he caught a glimpse at his mother’s face; she seemed to be grieved about something. And then it was gone as he went to wash for dinner.

[MatGeo]

*knock* *knock* *knock*

Terohk got up from bed, it was night. The clock showed 1 PM. He got into his slippers and slowly walked towards the old wooden door of his apartment.

*knock* *knock* "Open this door at once!" a voice sounded from the other side of the door.

Terohk opened the door... in front of him were five tall Taika males, they were Overlords.

"Ha! I never thought I'd see you lads in this part of town again." Terohk had a grin on his face. "It seems your mighty magics can't help ye against nature and it's obstacles."

A Taika pointed his weapon at Terohk. "Stand aside slave, you know what we're here for, and if you don't want anything happening to you, you won't bother us."

Terohk looked furiously at the Taika, when the overlord tried to move Terohk spit him on the face.

"Ye know lad, I may not have yer knowledge, I don't read yer books, I don't know magics, but I ain't stupid... oh no... starving your workforce won't help ye get more food. The losses will be bigger than the gains, now on the other hand if yer willing to leave those books alone for a day I always have an extra fishing pole I could lend to ye. Who knows, maybe you're good at it. Heh heh heh..."

In the next second, filled with rage the Taika hit Terohk in the stomach with his weapon. Terohk fell on the ground paralyzed, he was still aware of what was going on around him, but he could not move.

"You're lucky this city needs sailors and fishermen and that you're one of the best, otherwise you'd be dead now. We'll solve our problems, and you'll do your job without getting in our way. Oh, and thanks for donating your food stockpiles to our cause, we'll visit you regularly to pick up other donations you will prepare."

The five Taika proceeded into the apartment and took all the food with them.

"The paralysis will go away in two hours, after that you'd better go to sleep. You have a full day tomorrow."

And with that the Overlords left, leaving Terohk in the middle of the room...

[kongurous]

Sarches had long since stopped caring about the heat of the furnaces or the weight of her woven asbestos smithing tools. She had long since stopped caring about the brightness of metal fresh from the fire, her eyes well adjusted to the bright spots of light in the necessary darkness.

She'd been doing this for two dozen years now. Standing in this exact same foundry for the exact same arena.

She hated it.

The tedium was torture. The lack of any real thought to put into this work was torture. She wanted to make creative, individual pieces of armor but with the turnover rate on pit fighters, such was a waste of her time. She hated coming day in, day out to do the same thing over and over and to see her creations bloodied, beaten, and broken to be melted down and reforged into new suits of armor.

Sarches perked up and turned towards the door as she saw it open across the room. A boy was carrying a suit of armor but the dimness of the foundry combined with the light outside the door made it difficult to see who the boy was and which suit he was carrying. The boy moved swiftly between the workers smelting the ores together in the furnaces and the other smiths making weaponry and armor and stood before Sarches and set the armor down.

"Neck and skirt from Brawk, pauldron seems loose." Boritz, who was now fully visible, said over the din of the room.

"He told me earlier. I'll see what I can do, Boritz, you may leave now."

"Yes'm," the boy nodded and made his way out of the foundry.

Sarches picked up the armor and laid it down on a nearby table laden with tools. She moved a few of the tools aside and unbuckled the central plates of the armor and spread them, grabbing one of the tools from the table and positioning the armor so that she could see into it.

Sarches set the mouth of the tool on one of the nuts on the inside of the pauldron and spun it in a clockwise fashion until she felt resistance and stopped. She performed the same action on the nut opposite the first and moved the pauldron up and down to check. Finding it satisfactory, she set the central plates back together and buckled them back.

This suit would stay in the foundry to be inspected later. For now, new suits needed to be forged. Moving to her favorite furnace, she grabbed a mold, a cart laden with bronze bars, and personal smithing hammer and went to work.

[Ender]

ooc: It's on, Starcraft. It's fucking ON.

Abdul snarled.
I should kill him for this!
Abdul quickly regained his balance and his staff flung outward. He screamed a quick incantation and a stream of fire leapt forth and struck Rak in the chest. The Faridoon flew back from the concussive force of the blast, screaming. Abdul relished the smell of sizzling flesh.

Rak collapsed, only half-conscious, moaning from the pain while small little fires still burned on his chest and the few tatters of clothing left. Abdul grinned at Rak's assistants.

"Anyone want to help him?"

Not one moved - they simply stood and stared at him, wide-eyed with fear.

This was what Abdul lived for. He bared his teeth as his Overlords finished removing the little food their was and teleported it back to the castle. He turned in their direction.

"Kill them all, and make sure Rak watches as they die for his error."

Rak stirred feebly, and the other Faridoon in the room tried to run. One of the Overlords immediately cast a spell, and roots rose from the ground, grabbing the fleeing slaves. Rak watched as his fellow Faridoon were incinerated, crushed, suffocated, and eaten alive by familiars, horror overpowering pain on his face. Abdul laughed at the sight of screaming, dying Faridoon, and at the plight of Rak.

When the deed was done, Abdul walked over to Rak and knelt in front of him. He could feel the heat from the slave's red, seared flesh, cracking as he breathed.
"Dear dear Rak," Abdul said, placing his hand against the fallen man's chest, causing him to squirm and moan in pain. Abdul grinned evilly as he dug his nails deep into the soft, burned flesh and dragged them down, tearing four lines the size of his fingers in Rak's chest. Rak screamed and his back arched. Abdul continued down, almost to the belly button, until Rak passed out. The Chief Overlord of Dardanos stood and walked away, glancing back at Rak. He chuckled as his left, led by his subordinates.

"Enjoy your nightmares, slave scum."

[Starcraft78cwal]

OOC: A little brutal, Ender :P

Rak's eyes flitted open. Groaning in pain, he lifted himself to his feet. The shock of what happened was almost too much to comprehend. All of his assistants, brutally destroyed by...Abdul. Rak grimaced in anger and sorrow, not to mention the excruciating pain. His life as a blacksmith was over, he knew that much. There was no way he was going to serve under the Taiku, especially Abdul, after this. Lurching towards his work area, he grabbed a sword off a rack that he kept especially for him in case he ever needed it. He definitely needed it now.

Rak took one last look at his blacksmith shop as he stood in the cold night air, his cloak billowing around him. He pulled up his hood, and sheathed the sword, hidden. Rak was but a shadow, unseen by all but those with the keenest eyes. Limping, he made his way to the docks, leaving the terror of the day behind him, eyes burning with fury.

[MatGeo]

The docks were in sight. The day had been pretty bad, they didn't catch much, and with the Overlords having taken away all of Terohk's food, it appears he'll have to refrain from eating for a day, as it is unlikely that any places to eat would be open this late into the night.

The ship entered the docks, they were empty, or so they seemed. Obviously who would think of wandering the town at such an hour. The anchor fell in the water, and after a couple of seconds, the ship stopped. Everybody got out of the ship, and went for home. Except for Terohk. Being the captain he still had some things to do.

He took the fishing nets, the harpoons and the ropes in a warehouse they had near. He closed it, and when he turned, far away, he thought he saw something. It looked like a human silhouette.

Now, who'd be crazy enough to wander these streets at this hour.

He slowly approached the silhouette, and when he got closer he figured out it was a man in a dark cloak.

"Hey lad, what're ya doing around here at this hour?"

The man moved, and approached Terohk, he pulled down his hood, and revealed his face. His eyes were burning with anger, and his face was marked by a long scar on one side.

"Good day, sailor..."

[ooc: Tag sc78cwal. By the way, nice, but brutal post Ender.]

[Ender]

ooc: Indeed, but tyrants and enforcers usually are.

[Starcraft78cwal]

"Good day, sailor," Rak said to the stunned captain, who was taking in the scars and burn marks he had on his face. Rak thought this man might have some bad experiences with the Taika, but he had to be sure before going ahead with his plan.

"Who...who are you?" The captain asked, eyes wide. He obviously wasn't used to seeing scarred strangers turn up at the docks seemingly out of nowhere. But then again, nobody was.

"I'm Rak. I was wondering..." he lowered his voice to a whisper, "how would you like to overthrow the Taika?" The captain; as Rak learned, was named Terohk. At first, Terohk's eyes widened in surprise, then happiness, then doubt.

"And just how do ya plan on going about all that? The Taika have ultimate magical powers and such, lad," Terohk said. Though Rak suspected
secretly Terohk wanted to be rid of the Taika as much as he did.

"I know, but we will find a way. We have to." Rak's eyes were blazing with fury again. "I can't let them get away with destroying all of my assistants, and my shop. We will stop them. We will find a way." Terohk nodded grimly.

"We'll have to think this through, lad. Come over to my place, and we'll sort all this out." Terohk lead the way through the city streets, Rak following close behind like the man's shadow. Then the night swallowed them up, and they were gone.

[Vhaeraun]

Viriatus sat in his room and waited for his father to arrive home so they could eat dinner. He kept thinking about what he saw earlier, but he couldn't figure out why it troubled him so.

Then he heard the door close, so he hopped up and went out. He heard his father's daily greeting to his wife, but she didn't respond. Viriatus crept to the doorway and listened.

His father pulled back and said, "What's wrong dearest?"

She wiped tears from her eyes, "We have to tell him. It's time for him to know."

The blacksmith said, "No. He wouldn't understand. He's too young. We must wait."

She shook her head, "I can't keep lying to him. He has to know the truth."

Viriatus stepped around the corner and asked, "Tell me what? What do I have to know?"

His father walked up and clasped him on the shoulder, "Nothing, my son. We weren't talking about you."

Hearing that, his mother cried twice as hard, and through a visible display of control, the blacksmith refrained from slapping her.

He turned around and walked to the window with his hands behind his back. He stood there for a moment before turning back to Viriatus, "Aye, we have something to tell you. We wanted to wait until you were old enough to accept it, but alas, the time has come."

He walked with heavy steps and downturned head back to squat in front of the boy, "We aren't your parents. We found you alone in the streets as a baby all those years ago. My wife, the kindhearted soul as she is, snatched you up until we could figure out who your parents were. Sadly, we never could, so you became ours."

Viriatus was dumbfounded, "YOu never told me after all these years? How could you lie to me like that?!"

"We didn't want to lie, but we also didn't believe you would stay if you knew that your real parents were out there somewhere. We needed you to hold us together, just like you needed us for guidance."

Viriatus was blinded by a sudden rage, "You never told me even AFTER my coming of age! 3 YEARS NOW! And STILL you said nothing until I caught you! What kind of example is that to set?!"

His sudden outburst made his adopted mother cry out as if stabbed, tears flowing even quicker than before. The blacksmith stood up and backhanded Viriatus, "YOU UNGRATEFUL BASTARD! YOU WATCH YOUR TONE WHILE IN MY HOUSE!"

Viriatus screamed back, "UP UNTIL RECENTLY, THIS WAS MY HOME AS WELL, YOU INCONSIDERATE PRICK!"

Viriatus took a breath before walking to his adopted mother, "I'm sorry. I love you dearly, but I can't stay here after this."

Viriatus bowed before his mother and went to his room to gather his things.

He barely glanced at the blacksmith as he strode out into the night.

[Mr.Bad]

OOC: Ender you bastard, Magic is the fun part. You just want to keep us from being Taika to piss us off. :) Anyways, I hope it isn't too late to join.

Name: Marin
Age: 26
Profession: Pitfighter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At the young age of 14, Marin's parents participated in a Slave revolt. They never came home. The house being taken by the Taika, as all Slaves only really rented property from the Taika, they could never truly own it, Marin was left on the street. She was unfortunately forced to resort to crime to make a living. In the hours of daylight, she would steal food from stores to feed herself. At later hours she would resort to certain other activities to make a small living.

One day, while raiding the docks for fish, the worst possible thing happened. She was caught. Not by the Taika, of course, they would have executed Marin and the group of teenage criminals she worked with on the spot. Still, let's not pretend that a fisherman would be pleased to see a percentage of his day's labor disappear. "What the f*** do you think you're doing?" He yelled. His compatriots rushed over, and they made to drag the band to the Taikan dock authorities.

As is only reasonable, Marin and the others struggled. After all, She and the others did nothing for society. They would be killed without hesitation. There was much muscle to be built while fishing, however, and they struggled to no avail.

Marin saw her chance in an unattended fishing knife. She yanked with all of her might in the opposite direction, her night black hair streaming out behind her. To keep her trapped, the fisherman braced and pulled in the other direction. Expecting this, Marin quickly threw her weight in the other direction. She managed to grab the knife before the fisherman was able to get her back under control. She swung backwards with her new tool, forcing the fisherman to let go of her to grab her arm and keep her from slashing at him. Taking advantage of this, she dropped the knife and pulled free.

She ran without looking back, knowing that the fisherman would be calling for someone to stop her. Sure enough, he did. "Stop that girl!" Damn him, the Taikans were sure to have noticed the commotion by now. She risked a look behind her, and as if reading her thoughts, saw a group of three Taikans chasing after her. Marin sped up. She dodged around a corner into an alley...Only to find another group of Taikans. Marin came to a stop, and turned to run away. But she never got the chance. The other group had caught up to her.

"Halt" the leader of her pursuers commanded. "You will be taken into custody for questioning. Any attempt at escape will be taken as an admission of guilt and will lead to your execution." Marin looked around. No way out. She looked up. Now way to climb the walls. Trapped.

"Wait!" What was that? Marin spun around. A man was running her way. She vaguely recalled seeing him during her flight. "Don't take her in, you will just kill her! She does no good for society when she's dead." The Taikan looked at the man with contempt.


"And how does a petty thief like her contribute while living either? She is only detrimental."

"I saw the way she fought, she could be trained as a fighter. Let me take her, I can find her a use." The Taikan considered, before nodding his head.

"Get her out of my sight." The group left. As soon as they were out of earshot. Marin started gushing.

"Thank you, thank you. You saved my life!" The man merely scowled.

"Don't thank me yet, the pits aren't exactly an Island paradise. The name's Brawk, by the way."

-------------------------
(Fast Forward to Present)
-------------------------

The man she was to battle was brought forward. He looked new, terribly scared. Marin doubted he even knew how to use the sword he was wielding. The Taikans didn't bother training their fighters. They brought in enough of them that a couple dead didn't mean a thing. You taught yourself how to kill in your first match, or you learned if there really was a God. It was as simple as that. Marin felt a twinge of pity, she was just as scared as he looked now when she fought her first battle, but she quickly suppressed to emotion. Better him than her.

With a grim look she eyed her opponent. He was tall, at least 6'2, but looked all the more clumsy for it. Good, her weapons of choice, clawed gloves, were obviously of very short range. She would have to get in close. Marin was also unfortunately especially vulnerable. She was a female after all. And her master said she brought in more money when dressed in 'appealing' accoutrement. She had on very little actual armor, just black leather pants and a shirt of the same material that displayed her midriff. Marin rolled her eyes at the thought of all the men who were undoubtedly looking at her in the crowds.

"Let the fight begin!" And with that she ran forward. The man she was fighting took a step back. A bad move. You don't want to put yourself on the defensive. He was definitely a first timer. And unfortunately he was soon to be a last timer. Marin leaped upwards to avoid his halfhearted swing with his sword. Sidestepped, and move in for the kill.she brought her clawed glove up to the gap between his helm and mail, and pushed. Marin heard the familiar gurgling sound as blood jetted out of his jugular vain. The man collapsed into her arms to the cheers of the crowd. She was a fan favorite.

Marin dropped him to the ground and turned in the dust. She felt bad for him, she really did. But what choice did she have? In this world, it was either kill or be killed. Well, that wasn't entirely true. The man who introduced her to the pits didn't kill. But she didn't have as large of a reputation. Marin would likely be thrown back onto the streets. As she walked out of the arena, her trainer, Jaron, the same one as Brawk's, complained. He was always complaining. "Why'd you end it so fast? The crowd prefers it when the fights are long and drawn out! You should have kept him alive for a while, I swear, I don't know why I keep you around, I should just have someone slit your throat and get myself another fighter in your place!"

Marin whirled around. "I will NOT play with my opponents! I don't want to make their misery worse than it already is! Now where's the water basin, I need to get all this blood off of me."

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Sorry for the megapost.