Vhalar 123, Arc 716
She was gone, and he didn’t know what to do anymore. The house felt so empty without her. He wasn’t interested in spending the evening and the night alone, and he didn’t feel like visiting the House of Roses at the moment either (none of the girls there were Faith), so he had decided to pick up an old pastime of his again. Before she had come into his life, he had visited the Fighting Pits quite frequently. He had even sponsored a fighter himself once. Unfortunately the man had been beheaded by one of his opponents and subsequently been unable to continue to work for him, as a head was necessary to fight as well as live.
After Veljorn Burhan’s failed rebellion the slave markets had seen a sudden influx of new wares, and slaves were cheaper than ever before as a consequence which was something that he decided to take advantage of. Maybe he would finally get a new man or woman to fight for him (and hopefully not die for him) in the pits and the arena. A bodyguard, he decided, would also be a nice thing to have after that terrible woman had threatened him and robbed him in his own home, although he wasn’t sure how reliable a gladiator would be. Still, it might be a good distraction from his former slave.
It had been so long since he had last visited the pits that he had forgotten how cruel and violent the place truly was. For a moment the young noble just stood there, feeling somewhat out of place in his nice clothes and with his sword cane that was little more than a glorified fashion accessory, but then he smiled and strode over to where he hoped he would find Finn Craig, the Master of Slaves, the most hated man in all of Rynmere. Violence was just what he needed right now. As long as he kept paying money and supporting the place it was unlikely that Finn would allow anybody to hurt him.
---
A couple of bits Finn and Tristan were sitting opposite each other in the man’s private quarters, sharing a bottle of fine Venora Red that Tristan had brought to improve the man’s mood that usually varied between “bad” and “worse” and make him more inclined to do business with him. “So what do you have besides rebels, spouses of rebels and children of rebels?” he wanted to know because he wasn’t sure if his cousin would appreciate it if he bought one of her former allies. He didn’t want to anger her too much. Besides, owning rebels might be dangerous. They might just try to slit his throat if they found out that he had supported King Cassander and even loaned Faith to Veljorn’s killer.
“A Lothar”, Finn replied at which Tristan’s eyes widened. “All-male race. He’s a good fighter.” Tristan’s eyes widened more and more until the Master of Slaves started to wonder whether the noble was about to have an epileptic fit. Finally Tristan blurted out,
“Seven, did you never wonder how exactly races that only have one sex procreate? Do they do it with each other or do they take human women? If they do it with each other, who’s the mother and who’s the father? And if they take human women, how can there be any full-blooded Lothar? Shouldn’t it be a race of mixed breeds?”
Finn stared at Tristan for a moment, and then he snapped at him, unwilling to admit his lack of knowledge regarding such topics, “What do I look like? Some sort of biologist? Ask that cousin of yours. He’s a doctor, isn’t he? The Lothar is yours for 160 nels. Do you want him or not?”
“Sure”, Tristan replied, deciding that he couldn’t pass up on such a bargain. His horse had cost almost as much! “Does he come with any weapons or armor?” he wanted to know.
Finn laughed as if he had just heard a joke. “What do I look like? Some sort of Good Samaritan or a pampered little noble lord that doesn’t know what to do with his nels? You’ll have to buy him equipment if you want him to last longer than a handful of trills in the pits. Do you want to meet him now?”
“Of course”, the noble replied and drained his glass before he started getting second thoughts about his newest investment. What if there was a reason for why Finn wanted to get rid of the Lothar? Maybe he was ugly or disfigured, didn’t speak Common – or couldn’t fight at all!
---
Another couple of bits later Finn and Tristan found themselves in the slave quarters. The Master of Slaves walked over to where Morthalas was, doing whatever it was that the fighters did when they weren’t fighting and yelled, “ Morthalas! Come here and meet your new master! Lord Venora decided that he wants somebody to fight for him in the pits and bought you!”
She was gone, and he didn’t know what to do anymore. The house felt so empty without her. He wasn’t interested in spending the evening and the night alone, and he didn’t feel like visiting the House of Roses at the moment either (none of the girls there were Faith), so he had decided to pick up an old pastime of his again. Before she had come into his life, he had visited the Fighting Pits quite frequently. He had even sponsored a fighter himself once. Unfortunately the man had been beheaded by one of his opponents and subsequently been unable to continue to work for him, as a head was necessary to fight as well as live.
After Veljorn Burhan’s failed rebellion the slave markets had seen a sudden influx of new wares, and slaves were cheaper than ever before as a consequence which was something that he decided to take advantage of. Maybe he would finally get a new man or woman to fight for him (and hopefully not die for him) in the pits and the arena. A bodyguard, he decided, would also be a nice thing to have after that terrible woman had threatened him and robbed him in his own home, although he wasn’t sure how reliable a gladiator would be. Still, it might be a good distraction from his former slave.
It had been so long since he had last visited the pits that he had forgotten how cruel and violent the place truly was. For a moment the young noble just stood there, feeling somewhat out of place in his nice clothes and with his sword cane that was little more than a glorified fashion accessory, but then he smiled and strode over to where he hoped he would find Finn Craig, the Master of Slaves, the most hated man in all of Rynmere. Violence was just what he needed right now. As long as he kept paying money and supporting the place it was unlikely that Finn would allow anybody to hurt him.
---
A couple of bits Finn and Tristan were sitting opposite each other in the man’s private quarters, sharing a bottle of fine Venora Red that Tristan had brought to improve the man’s mood that usually varied between “bad” and “worse” and make him more inclined to do business with him. “So what do you have besides rebels, spouses of rebels and children of rebels?” he wanted to know because he wasn’t sure if his cousin would appreciate it if he bought one of her former allies. He didn’t want to anger her too much. Besides, owning rebels might be dangerous. They might just try to slit his throat if they found out that he had supported King Cassander and even loaned Faith to Veljorn’s killer.
“A Lothar”, Finn replied at which Tristan’s eyes widened. “All-male race. He’s a good fighter.” Tristan’s eyes widened more and more until the Master of Slaves started to wonder whether the noble was about to have an epileptic fit. Finally Tristan blurted out,
“Seven, did you never wonder how exactly races that only have one sex procreate? Do they do it with each other or do they take human women? If they do it with each other, who’s the mother and who’s the father? And if they take human women, how can there be any full-blooded Lothar? Shouldn’t it be a race of mixed breeds?”
Finn stared at Tristan for a moment, and then he snapped at him, unwilling to admit his lack of knowledge regarding such topics, “What do I look like? Some sort of biologist? Ask that cousin of yours. He’s a doctor, isn’t he? The Lothar is yours for 160 nels. Do you want him or not?”
“Sure”, Tristan replied, deciding that he couldn’t pass up on such a bargain. His horse had cost almost as much! “Does he come with any weapons or armor?” he wanted to know.
Finn laughed as if he had just heard a joke. “What do I look like? Some sort of Good Samaritan or a pampered little noble lord that doesn’t know what to do with his nels? You’ll have to buy him equipment if you want him to last longer than a handful of trills in the pits. Do you want to meet him now?”
“Of course”, the noble replied and drained his glass before he started getting second thoughts about his newest investment. What if there was a reason for why Finn wanted to get rid of the Lothar? Maybe he was ugly or disfigured, didn’t speak Common – or couldn’t fight at all!
---
Another couple of bits later Finn and Tristan found themselves in the slave quarters. The Master of Slaves walked over to where Morthalas was, doing whatever it was that the fighters did when they weren’t fighting and yelled, “ Morthalas! Come here and meet your new master! Lord Venora decided that he wants somebody to fight for him in the pits and bought you!”
