dregon45

“Shut up and leave the man be.” Another voice boomed out from the cell across from Kathos. It belonged to Ka’taarka, the Orc Beserker. The other slaved booed the guard and threw their waste buckets at him as he stormed off in embarrassment “Kathos.” The Orc called out. “What troubles a champion these days?” he asked with a chuckle, the other slaves laughed softly. Kathos, let out a small laugh, “Nothing. I got blood in my eye and need a good fucking.” The prisoners laughed and howled in response. “So long as the Mighty Kathos is ok.” Ka’taarka stated. “I’m fine. I’m…” everyone leaned in waiting for what he had to say, but another guard came in and interrupted the talk, “Kathos. Get yourself cleaned up. You will be escorted to your wet-prize shortly.” The prisoners howled again in praise of their hero. Kathos was handed a large bucked of hot water and the guard walked off. Kathos slowly poured the water over himself. “Kathos.” The Orc called out once more, “If you get a thick one, make sure you slap her ass for me.” Everyone laughed and shook their cages. Several guards came back to escort him to his wet-prize. The moon was half-full, the stars bright, and the people were merrily drunk in the streets. Some people recognized him as he was being escorted, “Ares favors the Mighty Kathos! Cheers to our bloody titan!” People cheered out and toasted. He smiled lightly in response. He arrived at the doors of a two story building, where the chatter of the upper class could be hear. The doors opened and Kathos was greeted by a woman servant, “Thank you guards, you won’t be need from here. Lord Arkus will send for you when necessary.” She courtly stated. The guards bowed in response then left. The kind lady daintily weaved her arm around his, then led him through the doors. Inside was a lavish party, decorations made of gold and fine materials as always. Lord Arkus was always one to throw the liveliest of parties. People danced and told stories, some engaged in small talk, several groups of people were having sex in front of everyone. Lord Arkus, the rich man who owned the colleseum and blessed his fight, stumbled and frolliced over to Kathos. The smell of wine was intense on this aristocrat, “Kathos, you mad ox. Come to enjoy the celebration I see.” Arkus leaned against the muscled titan, and ran his hand against Kathos’ stomach to his chest,” have you finally decided to enjoy the pleasures of a man. I could show you a thing or two.” Kathos wiped Arkus’ hand from his body “No Thank You.” The rich man’s face reddened, but before he cold say anything, “Lord Arkus, it is a well-known fact that our beast champion loves to indulge in the flesh of women.” It was Ab-dallah, and he led both Kathos and the woman servant away before anything else could be said. “Some day Kathos, I will enjoy those muscles against me!” Arkus said before gulping the last of his wine. “Apologies, Kathos. Seems that Lord Arkus refuses to give up on mounting your flesh. Don’t let that spoil your appetite though, I’ve brought your favorite this time.” Kathos’ chest enlarged to that last statement Ab-dallah had made. Before arriving at another door, Ab-dallah shooed the woman servant away. “Kathos, I sense a certain trouble about you. Something looms over you. Speak boy.” Ab-dalla demanded. Kathos looked down the hallway towards the balcony where the moon and stars could be seen. “Nothing. I just needed to get out of my cell.” The giant quietly stated. “Ah. Well lucky for you, I’ve managed to work out a deal of getting you a full nights rest. Enjoy your wet-prize sir.” Ab-dallah smiled as he shoved the door open. Inside was the servant woman who was now topless and 12 other women, some slender and delicate and a few voluptuous; There on the far right was his favorite, Caramilla. A very curvaceous woman, tan skinned, and chest nut hair. The door was closed behind him, then the women set upon him and undressed his massive body. This isn’t the first time Caramilla has been his wet-prize. Kathos has had enough encounters with her to where there was this unspoken ritual between the two. Caramilla would help kathos fuck the other women until they went crazy, then they would make love and enjoy the rest of his time alone. With the other women sated and Caramilla pleased, Kathos lay there with his favorite, her head on his chest, tracing her fingers along his skin, “I heard you won again. Another victory for an amazing man. All hail Ka-,” before she could finish, Kathos grabbed her hand. She could feel his unease. “My love, what troubles you?” There was a long silence, “Cara…have you ever thought about leaving?” She rose from his chest quickly, checking to see if anyone was around or if the other women were awake, “Kathos, they would kill you for talking of such things.” He gave a light chuckle, brought her back and kissed her head, “They couldn’t even if they wanted to.” He calmly stated. “I’ve never once thought of freedom until today. I have been happy-, I have…I.” He was lying. Kathos was never happy, save for the brief moments with Caramilla. “I was called mongrel. I had nothing to say against that fact. I lost my will to live a long time ago.” Kathos just stared up into the ceiling. “I want more than this life. For me, for you. I want to live Cara. I want to feel the wind of my face again. I don’t want you to have to bed anyone else anymore.” Cara’s heart was racing against his body, “What will you do then?” she asked her giant, holding her breath. “I don’t know.” He blankly stated after a hard pause. “I have no skills aside from fighting. I don’t remember the life I had before I became a slave. All I have are scars and nightmares.” Kathos said, broken and sad. She curled up to her love to comfort him, “Kathos, freedom is a wonderful dream, but if you have no ground to build upon, your dream will never rise.” He lay there pondering her words. “I would leave with you, but your strength alone would only get us so far.” She was right. Both wise and beautiful, a rare flower indeed. The night drifted on into morning. When Kathos awoke, he was alone in bed. The words Caramilla spoke were heavy to him. Guards came to retrive him after he had breakfast, he was returned to his cell, his kenne. “A night like yours, with the scent of women still on you, yet your shoulders still hang with sandess. Kathos, please speak to me my friend.” Ka’taarka’s voice sounded as if he was in physical pain. Kathos plopped onto his bedding, instinctually wanting to look back hoping his woman was there. “Freedom,” he finally spoke, but in was in Orcish. “When I fought the Executioner yesterday, he called me a coward and a trained mongrel. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him he was wrong, because I knew he spoke the truth.” Kathos sat rubbing his knuckles. --The word count limit makes this a bit difficult.

“So who will win, ladies and gentlemen? Our Might Kathos?” The whole crowd yelled, “Or will the ‘Executioner’ be the one to put an end to our champions reign?” Only a few people in favor of Deser-Kest shouted, while they were over powered by negative responses by the rest of the colleseum. A large man with a section to himself, stood from his seat and raised a chalice, “May the gods of war bless this fight, and let righteous victory go to the strongest.” He made an obvious gesture towards his favorite, Kathos. The Executioner twirled and readied his weapon. There stood calmly the giant warrior, with no armor and two blades. “Executioner! Are you ready?” Deser-Kest slammed his Khopesh against his chest plate. “Mighty Kathos! Are you ready?” A simple nod. “Shed Blood!” Deser-Kest charged furiously toward Kathos, Khopesh aimed to pierce his heart. Kathos walked forward, Blades crossed and pointed to the ground. Deser-Kest twirled his Khopesh and brought the balde downward to Kathos’ shoulder, the champion threw one sword upward and knocked the long-arm away, and went for a strike towards Deser-Kests’ midsection. Executioner was fast to respond, spun his Khopesh as he back up and hit Kathos’ sword to the side. The fight continued in this back-and-forth dance for a few minutes, until Deser-Kest made for a feint and attacked Kathos’ shoulder once more. An audible thud sounded from where the blade struck, the crowd went crazy. “Still! Still no blade can piece our champions body!” the announcer gleefully yelled. Kathos’ blade sliced through the air as Executioner narrowly dodged the attack. The contender only became angry and attacked faster. Despite the increase in the cadence of his opponents attacks, Kathos was unfazes, and met the mans’ attacks every time with ease. (He’s holding back, I knew it! This fight was one sided from the beginning.) Though Deser-Kest. The rumors turned out to be true. The ‘Mighty Kathos’ was the impervious warrior. No blade nor beast had been able to damage him. Those scars that decorated his body were real, so why couldn’t Deser-Kest cut or stab him? “I am a shaman from the north. I sense no magic protecting you. This isn’t some trick of the arena, and I know that my blade is real. Why can’t I hurt you giant?” Deser-Kest readied his weapon and ran after Kathos. The champion had no response. Kathos continued to perry, dodge, and attack Deser-Kest until out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the Caravan Leader who sold him to the arena. A simple nod and a gesture with his beard was a signal to the champion to bring an end to the fight. Deser-Kest didn’t see the man in the audience, but he coud tell that Kathos’ attention had redirected mid fight, yet the man never lost his rhythm. Kathos’ tempo increased, his swings heavier, faster, and more accurate. The Executioner was being thrown from the force of Kathos’ swings. Like a cornered animal, Deser-Kest howled angrily and put everything into his attack. The blade broke off of the shaft and flew upward. Kathos’ skin was still free from damage. The contender lost his flame, and back away both infuriated and afraid. A manic chuckle left Deser-Kests’ mouth, “ I know you. I see you for what you are coward!” Kathos’ eyes widened in anger, he stepped forward and caught the blade that flew to the sky and shoved it into the Executioner’s abdomen. The crowd roared once again. Kathos lifted the man using the Khopesh that was imbedded into the Executioners belly until the two were eye level. In his last moments, the shaman from the north laughed once again,” Even with death in my face I laugh. All that power. You could have finished me easily from the beginning. You are no warrior. You are a trained mongrel.” He spat blood onto Kathos’ face, “To think I gave it my all to someone who lost their will to live. Akarat frowns upon you, giant, and me. Finish me, and go back to your masters, DOG!” Kathos dropped the weapon in his his other hand, then crushed Deser-Kests’ skull in his massive palm. The crowd went wild, mend punched and head-butted on another in celebration, some women fainted. Kathos raised his bloody paw, then painted his face, and the arena lost it, “Kathos! Kathos!” Several guards came out and escorted him back to his cell. His weapons were removed, then he stepped into his home. The home of a slave, a mongrel. The other prisoners, were cheering in his honor, congratulating him. “Another resounding victory for our champion, Kathos!” All the prisoners clanked on their cell doors in celebration, but were abruptly cut off by the roar of a titan and the sound of stone breaking. Kathos had punched a small crater in the wall of his home, his kennel. The words ‘mongrel’ and ‘will to live’ taunted him endlessly before he fell to his knees roaring like a mad beast again. The prison was silent. One guard sheepishly walked over to quell the raging giant, “That’s enough out of you, slave. You’ll get a flogging if you continue.” The fear was obvious in his voice. An empty threat to a man like Kathos.