OOC Note- Cade allowed me to take one of his canine teeth
The satisfying feeling of connection, the followthrough, catharsis in a single moment as all of Aberdon's rage followed the Myrian to the cage. He was up for a moment, suspended by the impact and the surprise of the blow before collapsing, rolling against the ground in mute agony. The crowd howled, hungry for more blood. The fight had been uneventful and finished in a moment. Certainly the Isur had a flogging to look forward to, the heavy handed blows of his master for not drawing the battle out longer.
He was here to make money.
Nothing more.
But there was something he would take as well...just this time. In the before, only the slaves and misfortunate lay broken at his feet. To them he gave the comfort of silence, not pressing the attack when the masses yelled for carnage. But Cade?
The barbarian was a monster, a brute living off the weakness of others. Sunberthian, filth. Aberdon crossed the cage in a few instants, aiming a vicious kick to the Myrian's chest to send him rolling against the bars. By this time the guards were stepping in to intervene. Whips and blades came to the ready as the cage door opened.
But Aberdon would not be stopped.
He leaned down , grabbing Cade's jaw in his right hand and forcing the big man to turn his pain filled eyes to Aberdon's own calm ferocity. Over the roars of the crowd, the jeers and the chants, Aberdon aserted his own voice...a gravelly grit to cut apart the din of the spectators.
"My name is Aberdon Fullswing Pitirus. You, Cade, called me dog and perhaps that is what I am now...but as you lie here defeated and pathetic, I promise you that I will shred the chains that bind me and find you again." Reaching into Cade's jaw with his yellow fingers, Aberdon squeezed against Cade's right canine tooth, tearing it from his mouth with sudden vicious ferocity.
Hands fell upon his back, the beating of whips contouring his flesh, tearing it again as men strained to pull him from the Myrian.
"My memento, worm," Aberdon snarled, spinning just long enough to deliver an uppercut to the nearest man, sending him staggering "I'm taking your fang, your pride, with me. Crawl home and nurse your wounds, wretch...PRAY WE NEVER MEET AGAIN!"
Three men on him now, one with a sword. Aberdon held the canine in his fist, spinning and turning on those that sought to bind him. One stood near the back, holding the manacles grimly.
"I WILL NOT BE BOUND!" The Isur roared, crashing into one of the larger men and baring them both to the ground. "I FIGHT FOR MY FREEDOM CADE! WHAT DO YOU FIGHT FOR?" A scarred fellow with thick arms brought his club down on Aberdon's head, the Isur roaring his ferocity as he beat into the man beneath him. Hands and flesh only did so much to defend against his solid yellow arm.
Sent sprawling to the ground, spitting blood, seeing the ring shift and warp in dramatic contortions, Aberdon swung his legs a scissor across the knees of his assailant. The move did little to stop the big man's momentum, and unable to take his feet Aberdon was assailed by the lashing bit of a whip across his back and face.
Again the club came down, and again, once across his shoulders and again on his head.
The world spun, inky shadows pooling in his vision. He felt his arms roughly tugged together, the cold feeling of manacles across his wrists.
He tried to crawl from them, to seep through the ground or out of the cage, to find some solace in the shadows coming to take him. But even they had chains, long black ropes that held him down and stole his strength.
"I will...be-"
But he never finished.
Quietly the Isur bled onto the dirt, dragged away from the roaring crowds....no one stopped to help the barbarian, his role was fulfilled.
But even as Aberdon exited the ring, his master looking on with a mixture of surprise and sardonic glee, the Isur never loosened that stone hand...the canine clutched within.
His trophy, his defiance.
His win.
It remained intact.
For all the good it would do him.