Slaver Slaughter (Solo)

by **Cade** on December 7th, 2011, 5:24 am

Timestamp: 1rst day of winter, 511av

Cade the Barbarian had some seven summers before he ventured out from Falyndar, his savage homeland rich with jungles, with his mother. The myrian half blood now has made home across the other side of the world in the scum city of possibilities known as Sunbirth, home to many outstanding citizens. He had lost his mother in the travel and now orphaned and alone looking for his own destiny and not one that was dictated by a god, a queen or lords. No this man was going to make his own path in Mizahar, carve it in blood if need be.

The majority of denizens of this world have been held up in fortress like cities after the valterian, making the rest of the world a savage feral environment, a hard place to survive. There are two types of people, those that live in such walled protection and those that don't. The ones that were not so lucky are the outcasts, criminals and such that have been exiled from the resurrected civilizations. A death sentence for most but some survive, grouping together and forming gangs of bandits with camps through out Mizahar or surviving in the wall less city of Sunbirth.

It was mid day with the sky being fed with black pluming smoke coming from a make shift housing in the slums of this city. A women, ill dressed for the elements with a baby bundled and grasped tightly was rushing for the forest line, running like her life depended on it. If only if she could make it to the forest. If only if she could make it to the forest, there would be hope for her and her babe. But no.... there was no hope. The men were gone, on their harvest hunt. They would see the smoke and return, but not in time. All that had remained were the old, the young, and the frail. No match for the slavers low on their quota preying upon the poor and unwanted of the slums.

"Ah, but you're a fine one, aren't you? Young, round and soft. Once we get rid of that shrieking brat you carry" The red bearded bandit, crazed for his spoils of the day taunted after the fleeing girl. He was gaining as hope for her was fading by the second " You 'll make rare sport indeed" He frothed at the mouth, lusting to taste her skin. If only she could make it to the forest.

"HAH" He roared as the beast of a man tackled the girl and babe to fall covered terrain. He flipped the girl over, mounting her as the babe shrieked in the distance .

"NO...." She pleaded, not just for her life but for the life of her child

"And now" The red bearded slaver mumbled as he unsheathed himself while exposing her at the same time.

"MAN!" A deep toned voiced echoed through the forrest.

"HANH? WH..." The slaver's surprise was shorten by the quick and accurate strike from a long blade. The attack decapitated the man's head clean off showering the girl below him in blood. The barbarian roared in victory as the sounds of screams echoed his ears from the distant blazing inferno. Screams and shadows, swords raising and falling. The flickering lights made them as dancing demons or wolves. He remembered other fires, other screams and the unholy joy they brought. Leaving the girl and babe he advanced towards the inferno, his mouth set in a grin line as he thirsted for more blood. He was not much different then these slavers the only difference was that they were invading his home.

He stood on the outskirts of the slum, body and sword gleaming of challenge to the reavers before him. He was not done with the slaying this day and more blood was in demand.

"TIR, A SWORDSMAN!" The bandit alarmed his leader while looking upon the warrior in the distance.

"What of it?" TIR, black haired and black bearded like most of his men finally made notice of the warrior in the distance. "Take Bar and Balda and slay him" He ordered.

by **Cade** on December 7th, 2011, 5:26 am

The three bandits advanced upon the warrior as ordered, weapons in hand ready for the slaying. " You picked a bad day to come calling, stranger!. this is just business" Bar explain as the three men continued towards him.

" And if you stand with them, you will die like them or be sold" Balda warned, giving the warrior a chance to back down.

But the stranger only grinned a wolfish unsettling grin while taking a more comfortable grip on the hilt of his longsword. " So you make war on women and children and call it business, do you?" The barbarian finally spoke as he bladed his body and lowered his sword into the fool's guard. " So come forward you slavers." He thrusted forward, a rage in his aura as his sword hungered for the kill. "I WILL GIVE YOU BUSINESS" He savagely roared as his sword tore through the first man's arm as the other two bandits struck out at him. With fluent instincts He parried the one blade to the side while knocking the other man's face in with a quick right hook to knock him off balance.

The reavers in the distance attentions fell upon the quarrel as Tir was visibly angered by the proceedings thus far. " By the gods, he is just one man. Should be no match ....Kill him.... 'KILL HIM!" The Chieftain ordered his men with rage licking from his lips.

Out of skill or luck , the warrior had chosen his place well. A heap of stone guarded his left, a brushed filled gully his back and before him and to his right his longsword wove a bloody web of death that none could breath through. But they were many, and he was one. And surely, for all his pantherish speed and power, he would of fallen swiftly. Surely.......but.......

"TIR! THE MEN HAVE RETURNED FORM THE HUNT" One of the reavers informed his captain of the incoming threats.

"BREAK OFF THE ATTACK , MEN! BACK TO THE DOCKS! They will have better things to do here then follow us." Tir ordered as his eyes fell upon the warrior once more " and I will see you again Darkhair." And with that the reavers retreated back through the urban jungles of sunberth towards the infamous docks leaving the blazed camp behind them.

The blond haired girl from the forest with her babe approached the stranger " Th...thanks...". But before she could utter anymore words her yellow haired clansmen thundered in, deafening all speech tell they calmed. Most of the slumsmen scattered, looking for their homes their loved ones. Most, but not all.

by **Cade** on December 7th, 2011, 5:27 am

" By the gods, what has happened here? Did this man---?" The visible leader of this ruined camp with in the slums pointed upon the stranger with a hand of fury. His guardsmen numbered in three stood by his side, hands on their ill maintained weapons of steel ready to slue the man.

" No, Diord--- It was the slavers and he..." The girl holding her babe tried to explain in defence of her saviour.

" PFAH. He's a myrian. Their kind don't wander out alone from their dark jungles--- and when they do come, they come for blood. He's one of em" The man to the chief's right denounced.

"Jarl, perhas we'd better--" Doird tried to mutter before being cut off by his stubborn soldier/

" Don't sully your hands, Doird. I will deal with him?" Jarl snorted as he moved forward braving to approach the stranger. " Well, boy? You are exposed, and captured. SPEAK. were you party with this raid? or are you myrian filth in the pay of the slavers now?" Jarl viciously snipped at the warrior. The barbarian's face cringed in annoyance as he was being accused of being a saboteur. The myrian spat at Jarls feet in defiance and challenge in which Jarl drew his sword to answer.

"MANGY CUR! I'LL TEACH YOU TO---" Jarl's threat was interrupted by the savage's fist crashing into his jaw, knocking him senseless and reeling to the ground.

"Grab him!"

"Halt! Or We'll"

The other clansmen restrained the barbarian offering him threats if violence ensued. The myrian would not be restrained and ripped through their grasps knocking the two other clansmen back then drawing his bloodied longsword for defence. " STAY BACK, OR........" The tip of the myrian's sword was found pointed at the grounded Jarl " OR THIS MAN GAINS A SECOND SMILE!" He threatened as the slumsmen began to surround him for the attack.

"you call me 'boy' yellowhair? I lead my own crew and I have scores of men's blood on my hands" The warrior's anger seething as the tip of his sword gained closer to Jarl's face. " Can you say the same? or is talking all you do well?"

" I am Cade of the crimson edge" He announced to Doird who he suspected to be leader " Are you Chief of this camp? Is this how you treat those who save lives of your women, your children? I had hoped a little better of the slumsmen".

Doird, with his long yellow braided beard and matching mane hesitated while he stewed on what he should do next. Another man showed up and approached his chief. " Four of them, My Chieftain, four of them dead where he stood. All with a longsword. And a fifth, nearer the forest." He informed the Chief of Cade's doings.

"My apologies good Cade. To see friends and merry wives dead or missing-- we are none of us in good temper. I thank you for your aid and I ask you to stay, to help us Quell the fires. I would speak to you more." Doird replied his answer to Cade.

" I accept. Where are you buckets, your spring?" The warrior replied back, all willing to aid this chief of outcasts in this time of despair for quelling the fires would save his very own Camp with in the slums.

A few hours later Cade had found himself in the employ of this camp to hunt down the very men that had attacked them, kidnapped and killed a few of their kinsmen. Cade would of left these men to their own works but to be paid to kill was an offer the barbarian was not going to pass up......... even if the pay was of slum standards. But mizas were mizas and to earn them for something the savage enjoyed doing was well earned mizas no matter the quantity.

by **Cade** on December 7th, 2011, 5:28 am

Few hours later in the seaside market........................

The clash of swords had died away, the shouting of the dead was hushed as silence lay on the red-stained seaside floor. the high sun glittered off the ocean and through the many boats docked in the harbour and the filth filled streets of the seaside market was stained of red and silver from battered armor and bloody blades, where the slain lay as they had fallen. The lifeless hands yet gripped the broken hilt, helmeted heads back-drawn in the last breaths, Tilted heads of the slavers and slumsmen alike looking to the skies as if in last invocation to their gods.

Across the bloody mounds of armour clad forms, two figures snarled exhaustedly at each other. In that utter urban jungle only they moved with little to no onlookers. The warm sky was over them, the dense infested market stalls around them, the dead men alike at their feet. Slowly walking over the dead they came, as survivors come through the chaos of the battle. In intense brooding silence they stood face to face, fangs lusting for one last bloodshed for the day.

Both were tall men, built like tigers, the other a large black mained black bearded man who had that morning threaten Cade that this business wasn't over. Their shields were gone, their armour battered and dented. Blood dried on their face and body, their swords were stained with their kills. Their helmets showed evidence of fierce blows. Cade was the last of the slumsmen party that came to exact revenge and in Cade's case earn a few mizahs for bloodletting.

"Darkhair," Said he, "tell me your name, so that my brothers may know who was the last man to fall before the sword of Tir."

"Frek you," Growled the black haired warrior, "in hell you will tell your brethren that you met Cade the Crimson Hand".

Tir roared as he leaped forward, his sword slashed out in a deadly arc. Cade staggered back, his vision was filled with coloured sparks as the slaver's blade clashed on his helmet, shivering his nerves. But as Cade reeled, he thrusted with all the power he could muster from his broad shoulders, hammering his longsword in a counter attack. The blade tore through mail and bones, the dark bearded warrior died at Cade's feet. The smell of the dead slaver releasing his bowels, the last act before one dies, stinted Cade's nose reminding him that all die pissing and shitting themselves. He knew even he would die in such a manner once he found a worthy opponent to give him such a warriors death.

The Myrian stood upright, trailing his sword with the exertion of battle finally weakening him. The sun glared through the market stalls like a dagger to his eyes as the sky seams small and strangely apart. The barbarian turned away from the blood felled street, where slummers were locked with the bodies of the slaver crew. A few steps he took and the glare of the sun breaking through the urban forest dimmed. A dizzy spell waved over him as his vision blinded while his body sank to the dirt lushed floor. Cade supported himslef on one muscled arm, shaking the blindness out of his vision as his black hair washed back and forth like a lion shaking his mane.

by **Cade** on December 7th, 2011, 5:29 am

Cade leaned himself against a market stall, abandon just as the blood shedding began. The barbarian was gaining his vision back as his heart and soul began to calm from the battle fatigue. He looked back towards the bodies strewn through out the market, bellowing a sadistic laugh as his eyes fell upon the slained Doird........ the very man that hired him on for this slaying. The humor was that Cade knew the only way he was getting paid for this was to collect as much loot as he can before the sunberthians come back and pluck the dead clean of all that was worth.

The barbarian's muscles ached for rest but the half blood myrian was not giving into such needs yet. He needed to collect what was owed and what ever the battleworn merc could handle. He grunted as he lifted himself off the ground and with the adreniline fading the warrior could feel all the nicks and bruises he earned. The sharp pain to his side was more prominent then the rest and with a quick glace he can see that he gained a deep gash to his hip, nothing a quick sew job can handle. For now he just stuffed it with a rag and lifted his pants a little higher so his belt can be notched tight enough to keep pressure on the wound so he can continue on with the business at hand.

The Slumsmen had failed to claim their lost but the Slaver crew had also failed to defend themselves and now laid lifeless amongst attackers. Cade was the last man standing and now was routing through the slaver's bodies looking for that was valuable and that he could carry, mainly just coin but small trinkets that could pawn off aswell. The main score was the key he lifted off the slaver captain that Cade knew will open the slaver's caged wagon that housed ten slaves ready for the market.

The barbarian staggered his way to the wagon, looking upon the women and children with in it knowing he had three options he could play out: he could free them, he could take them as his own or............

The barbarian walked past the cage door and pivoted himself into the wagon's driver seat. The slave market will be bussling soon for they would not let bloodletting to stall them for long. Death was common in sunberth, especially when there is a profit in it. Cade drove the wagon with its confussled cargo with in to the slaver market where he had all intentions of making a profit of their flesh.

OOC: Rewards and Skills

Hoping for mainly longsword. Possibly a boxing skill and intimidation.

The mula to be made will be what you decide the price of the ten slaves are worth and the amount of mizas he collected off the fallen.

by **Ink** on December 7th, 2011, 7:54 am

And in the Aftermath . . .

The Rewards are Revealed.

Cade :

Written in the ink :