Skol was walking in the woods like all elves he enjoyed nature, he bent down and picked up a fallen limb from one of the great pine trees of his mountain home. He was a highland elf but he was not born in the country of his kin, his families along with others were exiled for trying to kill the queen.
Sitting under one of the largest pine trees, Skol used his knife to cut the wood he made a spear. He was interrupted from his peace and quite by the sound of hooves and mailed feet marching down the road. Skol crept to the side of the road and hid himself behind some of the underbrush.
They wore no emblem of any of the three kingdoms. “They are mercenaries” he said to himself. Skol ran for his village to warn them of the oncoming soldiers.
Even before he walked in to the tavern where his mother worked he heard “Skol where have you been?”
“Just out for a walk.” He said as he walked threw the doors, “I saw some soldier there coming right for the village.” His mothers face went dark. She called for Arye, she gave him a message and told him to go and find her husband, the leader of he militia.
By the time the all of the militia was rounded up the soldiers were on the out skirts of the town. “What do you want?” asked Retrs (the leader of the militia, and Skol’s father) as he crossed his arms over his chest.
The leader of the mercenaries was a short man with a long face set with one dark brown almost black eye, “Well me and dis sojers wants to be taken yall with us” he said with a accent that was so thick Retrs could barley understand.
They are salvers thought Retrs, and then gave a small nod. The hidden archers let loose there arrows and killed some of the soldiers.
Before Ratrs could uncross his arms he had a blade in his stomach, other elves were down leaving only a few of them left they still fought a hard as they could. Skol was hiding in the woods. “You have to fight” he said to him self, he griped his wooden spear so hard his knuckles turned white.
Skol climbed a tree, when a horseman rode under him he dropped down and killed the man. Riding strait for the enemies. A soldier was coming hard at Skol, and he ducked under his lance and spitted the man the throat, above his gorget. Another rider cut at him and missed, Skol slashed also going wide.
Then the first wave was over, he saw another wave coming at him. The riders thundered toward him he growled ready for another fight.
Skol pulled at his horse’s reins, as the animal screamed and reared. Skol slide of his back as his mount fell thrashing the ground, a crossbow bolt in its throat, then another between its ribs
A crossbow man coming at him, long double bladed dagger held low, Skol parried, and ran him threw, as he felt another bolt fly by his face.
A dismounted man was coming at him, Two-handed sword up. Skol went to his knees, drove what was left of his spear into the man guts under his breastplate.
Some thing smashed into the back of his head, he went flat, the world spinning.

With the battle over the soldiers that were still alive went from house to house, finding and enslaving the people.
One of the soldiers looked to his leader “What do we do with this one?” he asked nudging Skols unconscious body with his foot.
“Throw him into he wagon, he will fetch a high price on the blocks.” The leader said as the big man tossed Skols body into the wagon.

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Skol woke to the sound of hooves beating, and labored breathing. He looked up to see an elf standing over him “Don’t die on us or they will feed you to the lions” the elf said “There worth more then we are”, Skol blacked out again.

Four days after the devastation of his village, Skol was walking with his people, the slavers felt no need to use chains any more because the elves were half starved and had no energy.
Skol saw three guards yelling and cheering standing in a circle, and then he heard a scream. At that he jumped up from the fire he was sitting by and stood between the girl and her abusers, “Back off, and you won’t get hurt” Skol said with anger in his voice. The slavers laughed all of them had clubs.
Skol ducked a swing, and kicked the man in the kneecap, he fell to the ground with a howl.
One of the slavers a small man, fell to the ground with out a sound as Skol hit him in the head with the fallen mans club.
The girl kicked the man in the back of the knees; the man stumbled and dropped his club. Skol hit the man on his head.
“Are you ok Erais” Skol asked as he walked her to his fire, “I’m fine” she said in a small voice, looking into the fire. “How is your mother and brother?” he asked knowing that her father was killed with his back at the village. “There ok” she said.
That night four more died from the cold and fatigue. One being Skol’s mother. At dawn the slavers moved through the camp making sure that everybody was up and ready.
As they walked the others said that they were honored to have known his mother. Erias came up behind him and grabbed his hand “I’m sorry” she said they walked on silently.
The slavers stopped the line of prisoners, “This is where you will be sold,” he said looking over a ridge at the city of Konjai.



Chapter Two
The Green Dragon

A bird soared over the city.
Its eyes sought out a figure in the throng of people in the market, one man amidst the teeming surge of humanity occupying the market during the busiest part of the day. The market of Konjai, was one of the most crowded in all the kingdoms. Thrade goods and passengers form all the kingdoms came and went daily.
The man under scrutiny wore the travel clothes of a noble, all sturdy weave and easily cleaned, the fastenings that allowed him to remain comfortable in all weathers. The sported a Jacket designed wore off the left shoulder, leaving his sword arm unencumbered. Upon his head was a black beret adorned with an ivory pin and a single gray feather, and upon his feet he wore sturdy leather boots. The noble’s valet was offloading his luggage.
He paused to drink in the sights. Around him people scurried: Porters, vendors, stevedores, and teamsters. Wagons piled so high there wheels were on the verge of buckling rolled by him, the cargo heading was on the way to the city or out to the other kingdoms. Konjai had a busy market by any standard; not only were there traders arriving, but some were leaving for the other kingdoms, Konjai was the trading capital of the world.
Everywhere the young man looked, he saw commerce. Men bargaining over the cost of goods to be sold in distant markets, others negotiated the price of offloading a cargo, or insuring one against bandits. The young noble continued his walk barley avoiding a gang of urchins dashing past him with a boyish purpose. He forced him self-not to pat his purse, but there was always the chance that the boys where sent to scout by some pickpockets on the lookout for a fat purse to rob. The young man kept his eyes moving looking for any potential threat.
“Sir” the valet said “this is the Green Dragon”, the noble looked at the sign it had a dragon carved from wood, that was once painted green, “Ah so it is” he said as he opened the door and entered.
The young noble was fair-skinned but sun-browned, and his light green-gray eyes searched the room to find the man he was supposed to met. “There you are Rolan, I have been waiting” a man said he was short and had an eye patch over one eye. Rolan sat at the table as his valet pulled out his chair. “So where are the goods?” Rolan asked with a smile, the man with the eye patch smiled back “out side of town about a days ride.” He said.
Rolan sipped his drink as he listened to the descriptions of the goods, “So when do we go see these goods?” Asked Rolan. “When ever you want to sir.” The other man said. “We shall leave tomorrow.” He said to his valet, who nodded and went to securer a room for his master.




Chapter three
The Escape

Skol and Erias were sitting by their fire, when Skol felt a hand on his shoulder; “We are going to escape” said the voice from behind. They snuck away from camp while the guards were cooking their meal.
“Man, im going to go mad smelling that” said Huke the elf that had the idea of trying to escape. A slight breeze carried the smell of the food towards them.
“Keep your voice down” whispered Skol.
They lay on their stomachs along a ridge the moon was just raising, over looking the road to Kanjai. Camped below them was the slave caravan, for the first time Skol was able to see just how many of his people were still alive. He counted about twenty men and woman all chained in a coffle and strung out along the side of the road. Their chains were secured at either end to a wagon. Six guards were posted, along with the drive that tended the horses.
“What do we do?” asked Erias
Skol looked at his two companions. They were on the verge of collapse. Skol doubted that he or the others down in the caravan could live anther day with out food. “We will wait until the they start eating, then slip down and kill the guards” Skol said.
“Wonderful” Huke said as he went into the woods and found three good size braches that could be used as clubs.
“Ill take out the sentry, if they have a second Huke will take him out, if we don’t alarm our people then we should be able to take them out before they can do a thing” Skol said.
He started moving down the incline, motioning for the others to follow. At the bottom of the rise, he led them into a stand of trees. “we hide here just in case one of the guards id the fastidious type and comes to take a piss”
They settled and waited for the night to settle.
Skol crept down the hillside. The sentry was sitting with his back to the wagon, his head nodding as his chin touched his chest. The other guards were sleeping near the fire. The slavers were all asleep on the ground, and at the other end of the coffle another guard sat by the other wagon.
Huke moved parallel to Skol, his task being to kill the sentry furthest from where they had come over the rise. The other three men would come out of the trees at the first hint of trouble.
Skol reached a point near his man, who had suddenly started awake, perhaps sensing someone’s approach. Skol crushed the man’s skull before he could cry for help.
Skol then quickly killed the two sleeping men.
Huke’s guard died silently, but one of the sleeping men awoke, crying alarm. Suddenly the slaves were awake crying, and screaming imagining that whatever horror was about in the night would mean suffering for them.
Erais suddenly burst out of the copes and together they overpowered the reaming guards. Now only Skol, Huke, Erias, and the slaves were alive. The was no hesitation, there was food by the fire still and the companions fell on it ravenously.
Skol stood with a half eaten chicken in his hand and saw some of the slaves, pulling on their chains as if to rip it from the metal rings that connected them to the wagons. “Stop it” he yelled in the highland elf tongue “Stop it if you want to live.”
All the slaves stopped, Skol chewed and swallowed. “Get the keys, and let them go” Skol said to Huke. The slaves were talking excitedly “Shut up” Skol yelled every thing was quit. “I am Starting a mercenary company, you can join or try to make you way back home” Skol announced as Huke went through the rows of slaves shackling there feet.
After his announcement Skol went to find Erias and something else to eat. He found Erias eating cheese and drinking out of a wine skin. “Were you hurt?” he asked worriedly “no, but what are you going to do with an army?” she asked as she passed him the wineskin.

Chapter four
Fate

Skol had awaked just before dawn the next day Instinctively he reached behind him, seeking the comforting, warm feel of his lover's body, but she was not there; he got up and stretched, all the foods from the wagons were now in makeshift packs.
Skol passed around the armor and weapons from the six dead guards among the twenty slaves. Some wore a helm or a breastplate with just a dagger at their belt, while others wore a sword but had no armor.
He looked west and saw a group of horseman riding hard for the wagons, “Get the woman and children into the woods, hurry” Skol yelled, that left only Skol, Huke, and five others. Two of the elves had bows, Skol had a large axe, and the others had swords.
When the rides got within bow rang, Skol heard the twanging sound of bowstrings, then screaming. The riders thundered towered them, Skol threw his axe, he took of the lead riders head, the man fell to the ground in a fountain of blood. The elves fought with renewed fury when they saw that, a man on a tall black horse thrust his spear at Skol, who grabbed it with a tug and unseated the man. The fallen rider got up quickly and drew his sword, Skol picked up the spear, they faced off, Skol heard the screams of the dieing riders he also heard screams of his men. Skol fainted left and struck right, but was blocked, he caught the man by surprise as he came fast and high, he hit the rider’s throat. Skol looked up from his latest kill to see he was surrounded by the enemy, his men’s bodies were laying hacked to bits on the bloody ground. “Take him back to the city” said a man the eye patch; Skol felt a pain in the back of his head then all he saw was darkness.
Skol dreamed he was walking back in the forest of his home, he hear shouts, and ran toward the sounds. He tripped and fell into a swirling vortex of darkness.
He woke and tried to get up but he felt an unnerving weight on his arms and legs as he levered him self into a sitting position. Skol was in a room made of wood and metal bars, two other men were in the room, one was a giant of a man, but on closer inspection Skol realized that he was an orc. The other there was no doubt about he was a Halfling.
The Halfling walked over to Skol and held out his hand “The names Konta” he said as Skol shook his hand, the orc just nodded and grunted at him. “Im hear for stealing, and he is here because he killed his last master” Konta said “Why are you here?” he asked. Skol was about to answer when the jailer walked in with four guards, two on each flank. “Get moven you dogs” he said in a gruff voice as they marched there prisoners out into the street and up to a stand where he chained them to a large poll.
The orc was the first to be brought to stand on the Stage in the middle of the street. “This orc is a great specimen of the Highland orcs from the tribe Broken Skull, very strong but not overly smart it can do hours of physical labor” The announcer said taking bids until he was sold to a tall man with a giant red hat for two hundred crowns.
Next was Konta he was sold to a old lady in a bright yellow dress, Skol was the last one to be hosted onto the stage. “This elf is strong, and smart. He would make a fine gladiator or a field laborer.” The man said, “Two hundred” a young woman in a red skirt said. The biding went on for half and hour, until a man in a black cloak with brown paints said “one thousand crown for the elf.”
The man went to clam his prize he had Skol unchained and walked him to a large open courtyard where there were others of all different races.

Chapter five
I live to fight, and fight to live

Skol and the man walked down one side of the courtyard there were many different races from giants wielding clubs the size of small trees, to Halflings with only a dagger, all were training to fight and die in the arena.
The man looked at Skol “my name is Gourdes, I will be your new trainer.” He said, as he opened a door to a small room, and walked in. “Pick the one that best fits your hand” Gourdes said as he walked to the back of the armory. Skol walked in and looked around it was one of he most magnificent sights he had ever seen. There were daggers of all sizes and shapes on one rack, he turned left and picked up a long dirk, he flipped into the air and caught it before it did three whole flips. He said “I like this one” as he held up the dirk and walked around the small room again, he found a hand-and-half sword he hefted it up and took a few swings then shook his head and put it back. Skol reached out and took a sword that had a slightly curved blade, Gourdes looked at him and said “Ahh The backsword was a very versatile weapon, dangerous both from a mounted position as well as dismounted, a fine choice.”
Next Skol was to go out into the field and be tested “Blue means you will be fighting soon, Red means you need improvement before you can fight, and yellow means you will not fight only train the others.” Gourdes said as he took two wooden swords out of a cabinet and found a clear spot on the training field.
Skol and Gourdes spared for half an hour then took a blue necklace from the wall and threw it to Skol. “You will fight next week,” he said as walked away, leaving Skol to the other trainers.
His days went by in a new routine; Skol got up with dawn and ate his breakfast, then had to run around the complex. After that he went to combat training, then at noon he got lunch. After lunch he did condition training to build up the gladiators endurance.
At the end of the week Skol and ten others were rounded up and chained in a wagon, pulled by five horses. They were headed to the arena.
Once they were at the arena, Gourdes walked in and handed them their choice weapons, with a wink he handed Skol his Backsword and dirk. Once that was done he said in a loud voice “Who are you?” “Gladiators” they yelled “We live to fight, and fight to live” they chanted as they ran out into the arena.

Chapter six
The Crowd
Skol was the first one out running into the arena sword, and dagger in hand, He dogged the first swing of a giant maul, and the back swing killed the seconded man taking off his head, the crowd cheered at the first site of bloodshed. Skol swung and scored a hit as he ran by the large orc wielding the maul.
When all the gladiators were out in the arena, some men bared the door from the inside. Leaving nine new gladiators with five nasty looking orcs, one of the men through a spear, but he orc caught it and threw it back, holding the spear shaft sticking out of his stomach the man fell, and the crowed rose to there feet and cheered louder.
Skol went to his bloody work he killed one orc with a well-practiced move, while he threw his dirk into another’s throat. That encouraged the men on Skol’s side; they fought together to overpower the other orcs.
Skol looked up to see the crowd cheering.
Gourdes came up behind Skol “You fought well, the governor wants you to fight a bear that was cough in the royal hunting grounds.” He said, Skol looked at him “I live to fight, and Fight to live” he said looking down at the floor.
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Skol was given not only his sword and dirk, but also a long spear and a horse. Sitting in the middle of the arena, the horse pawed the ground. Skol brought the gelding’s head around slightly forcing him to pay attention to some thing else besides his boredom.
The horse took a step forward, then came a roar to shake the sets in the arena, Skol swore nothing living could make that sound.
He turned for a seconded as a massive brown shape exploded from the gate, less than ten yards from Skol’s gelding, one of the handlers threw him self to the left. The bears swatted at him with his left paw, propelling him in the direction he was already heading. Had it gone the other Skol knew the man would be dead with a broken spine. And, for all he knew, he was already dead.
The man had taken a punishing blow, and he wasn’t moving, either unconscious of playing dead. The bear’s momentum took it on for a few yards farther, then it wheeled and turned, ready to charge. Skol threw his Dirk and scored a hit, the bear turned and howled, giving Skol the time he needed to reach the man. Skol came to stand above him.
Seeing an opponent that wouldn’t flee, the bear slowed its charge and continued forward at a quick walk. Skol raised his spear high above his head with both hands and shouted as loud as he could, inarticulate approximations of an animals howl.
The bear pulled up just a few feet away and reared on its hind legs. It roared a challenge and Skol ducked low, thrusting the spear under the animal’s breastbone. The bear howled, stepping back. Once more Skol ducked under and thrust. The broad headed blade cut deep into the muscle, and blood flowed, streaking the beast’s brown fur. Howling in pain, the bear retreated once again, but Skol followed, continuing to duck and thrust into the same spot below the breastbone.
Soon blood gushed like a river down the animal’s torso, pooling in the ground at his feet. The huge creature waved its paws, again Skol thrust home with the broad-headed spear.
Skol lost count but after close to a dozen cuts, the animal staggered backward, and fell on his left side. The crowd cheered. Skol gripped the man’s upper arm and dragged him to the other side of the arena.
Skol helped the man up “I am in your dept.” he said in a whizzing voice, Skol was sure he had at least some broken ribs. Gourdes came out into the arena “How did you do that?” he asked, “When you live in the mountains you need to learn how to kill a bear.” Skol said as he walked by Gourdes and the man.



Chapter seven
Dark Rider

Gourdes walked up behind Skol, “Before we leave the city, we are to have dinner with the governor.” He said “Come to my room we will make you look presentable.”
Skol followed Gourdes to his room; he was given red silk shirt, brown leather pants, and brown leather boots. Gourdes stepped back and looked at his handy work, “Good” he said; “Now we have to get you a horse.”
Gourdes lead him to the barn walking down the rows of stalls, he stopped at one in the middle and waved Skol over, the great horse nickered and stomped at sight of the men, and that image of the stallion would have given most men pause. He was tall, but not the least bit lanky, with a powerful, muscled chest, a coat so black and smooth over those rippling muscles that it glistened in the slightest light, and eyes that projected profound intelligence. A white diamond-shaped patch showed on the horse's head, above the intelligent eyes, but other than that and a bit of white on the forelegs, nothing marred his perfect black coat.
“I think he will do, what do you think Skol?” Gourdes asked him as he looked up at the stallion’s powerful body.
Skol put his hand on the stallions jaw, “I think he will do just fine” Skol said in aw, Gourdes picked him self a horse, a young gelding the color of harvested wheat, then paid the stable keep.
Skol and Gourdes walked out of the barn both leading their horses. The night air was filled with the scent of spring; the renewal of life, and a gentle rain brushed the budding leaves and flowers and tickled the thickening grass. It gathered in puddles on the paved roadway, creating a spiraling dance of countless rings, waves intersecting waves, bouncing about in rhythmic patterns. Gourdes, and Skol rode on in silence, “He needs a name,” Gourdes said “The horse is yours now.”
The stallion held his head high as they walked towards the governor’s house, as they neared Skol said, “That is a big house.”
The large five story building dwarfed every thing in sight, as they neared the gate the guards crossed there pikes, “What is your business?” asked the guard on the right side of the gate, he had brown eyes and dull brown hair.
“We are to have dinner with governor Aglon” Gourdes said, the guards uncrossed their pikes and let them through. They trudged up the winding path towards the iron-banded doors of the house.
“Eanor,” Skol said as he looked down at his horse “That’s your name my friend.”
Skol and Gourdes came to the door there horses were taken to the barn, and the butler lead them to the dinning room, “Hello friends” he called as he walked across the hall, Aglon was not a tall man standing only a few inches above five feet. His hair was yellow, but paling toward white, and longer than the cuts worn by most of the other gentlemen, Aglon was closer to fifty than to forty, and his face showed the weathering of those years. But his smile and his eyes certainly did not
He shook both of there hands, “I knew you would come,” He said to Gourdes, “My nephew is here for a visit.” Aglon added.
His scraggy cut hair certainly stood out in a room where most of the men wore their hair shortly and neatly cropped, but it was more the intensity of Skol's gaze, his darting, alert eyes, and the sheer grace of his stride, the natural perfection of his posture, his muscles moving in perfect fluidity, that set him apart.
As Groudes, Skol, and the governor walked towered the large group of nobles standing by the head of the table, He walked by one group of ladies who stared openly, even turning their heads to regard him from every possible angle as he passed.
“This is my nephew” Aglon said gesturing to a young man in traveling clothes, with a black beret with a long grey feather, sitting on his head. “My name is Rolan the young noble said with a bow to the governor and Groudes, “Is this the gladiator?” he asked looking at Skol.
For the first time that night Skol realized that he was not a guest but the entertainment.
“Yes this is the gladiator I have been telling you about” Aglon said looking at Rolan, “Would you like to see him fight?” the governor asked his nephew, Rolan nodded his head.

how yall like it so far.

I like it alot. It is creative.

thanks