Haha, pretty lucky then! I think from Bradon's point of view, he'd just forgiven Tobor for messing up at the auction and now Tobor did what he did at the food hall immediately after. So Bradon will find it very difficult to forgive him this time. We will see if their friendship continues.
Reznar is not a man you want to be on the wrong side of. He's cold and calculating, an intelligent man, but like everyone he has his weaknesses. Reznar is smart enough to know he won't hurt Tobor, but Tobor is smart enough to know that he can't do what he wants, Reznar will hurt his friends if that happens.
Just as I feared I might have missed a voting after being very busy yesterday, thankfully there is none here. There couldn't have been a bet… moreter time for a part without a vote But oh, poor Bradon. I feel like he might end up blaming Tobor for this, even if it isn't really his fault. Fucking Reznar though, that is one hell to make a bad first impression. It really makes me nervous that Tobor is a prisoner of this man. Even if he himself is looked after, I think this will only remain as long as he is useful in combat. The moment he loses, his live will be in serious danger and not just because, well, he loses a fight.
I really don't know what it is... I want to like Tazhyn, but there is something about her that is really striking me in the wrong way. Maybe it's me and I am just paranoid, I would never put that past me, but fact is, I am not buying what she says. I mean, neither do I think she purposely screws him over, making his situation worse than it already is. It would take a complete asshole to play with someone like that and I really don't think she is that bad, but neither do I feel like she is genuine in the beliefs she just stated. Like, she's probably not thinking this through all that thoroughly. So, my current opinion on her is that she's too good to be true. She very likely is better than her father, I give her that, but I think it sounds likely that she is just trying to pass some time, the rich daughter of an even richer man, trying out something new out of mere curiosity, by interacting with the slaves for the thrill of it. We'll see where her loyalties lie when Tobor is not the novelty he is right now anymore, when helping him out might even start to become dangerous to her. That's where we'll see if these are her true colours or if there's something darker, or at least more apathetic behind her seemingly caring facade. Or maybe I am wrong and she really is that good, but for the time being, I remain cautious.
[Tire out opponent]
If Tobor would be a fully grown man and trained warrior, brute force would be the way to go. We don't know whom he is sent to fight against, but it might be some guy who is weaker than Tobor, sure. But if it is a stronger, more seasoned fighter, I believe we should be careful here.
[Bastard Sword]
I feel like Tobor is overestimating himself if he is going to pick a weapon he has no experience with. That sword staff and arakh are both fundamentally different from the weapons Tobor knows from home, so if this is his first time with them, he'd be at a disadvantage.
Hot Sand and Warm Blood
Part 1
The weeks after the sailor's maiming passed slowly for Tobor. He was the cup bearer for the zo Merreq fa… moremily, Reznar and his two daughters; Tazhyn and Mezzara. The second daughter was plump, with a head of straight black hair. Every mealtime Tobor was taken to the dining area of the zo Merreq pyramid and forced to stand still and silent as he watched the family eat meals that would make a king jealous. Soups of mushroom, pastries, pork ribs and stews that would make Tobor's mouth water. When they required wine or water Tobor would pour.
Tobor knew that Tazhyn would know what was happening with Bradon, so in the first week he tried to make eye contact with Tazhyn to let her know he wanted to talk but the girl ignored him. He gave up soon after. It appeared that Tazhyn had kept her end of the bargain to keep Tobor's language a secret. Reznar conversed openly with his daughters in Low Valyrian talking of bu… [view original content]
Hmm, that is very paranoid! But I suppose we'll see if the paranoia was worthy in the future. I'm not going to say anything that would give parts of the story away so all I can say is we'll wait and see!
Both good choices, I guess with the arakh or staff, if Tobor knew his opponent then very well, he would be at a better place to choose his weapon or fighting style. But the thing is, they don't tell you who your fighting. Or what. Tobor still doesn't know whether he's fighting man or beast remember. This could be meal time for Reznar's favourite lion.
I really don't know what it is... I want to like Tazhyn, but there is something about her that is really striking me in the wrong way. Maybe… more it's me and I am just paranoid, I would never put that past me, but fact is, I am not buying what she says. I mean, neither do I think she purposely screws him over, making his situation worse than it already is. It would take a complete asshole to play with someone like that and I really don't think she is that bad, but neither do I feel like she is genuine in the beliefs she just stated. Like, she's probably not thinking this through all that thoroughly. So, my current opinion on her is that she's too good to be true. She very likely is better than her father, I give her that, but I think it sounds likely that she is just trying to pass some time, the rich daughter of an even richer man, trying out something new out of mere curiosity, by interacting with the slaves for the thrill of it. We'll see where… [view original content]
It might put your mind at ease if you consider the fact that Tazhyn defended her father when talking with Tobor. If her intention was to manipulate Tobor I feel like she'd say agree with everything Tobor says to get him to trust her. Like instead of defending her father she could've said "Yeah, he's a piece of shit" I don't know, maybe I'm too trusting but I want to give her the benefit of the doubt.
I really don't know what it is... I want to like Tazhyn, but there is something about her that is really striking me in the wrong way. Maybe… more it's me and I am just paranoid, I would never put that past me, but fact is, I am not buying what she says. I mean, neither do I think she purposely screws him over, making his situation worse than it already is. It would take a complete asshole to play with someone like that and I really don't think she is that bad, but neither do I feel like she is genuine in the beliefs she just stated. Like, she's probably not thinking this through all that thoroughly. So, my current opinion on her is that she's too good to be true. She very likely is better than her father, I give her that, but I think it sounds likely that she is just trying to pass some time, the rich daughter of an even richer man, trying out something new out of mere curiosity, by interacting with the slaves for the thrill of it. We'll see where… [view original content]
Hm, I must say, I don't even think she is manipulating him, I want to give her the benefit of the doubt for that. It's just, that caring attitude, I really don't think that is entirely genuine. She's a Master after all and while it's possible there's a white sheep among them and while I don't say they are all bad, they were raised in a certain way. Ah, I really don't want to paint her worse than I believe she is, but her care for Tobor gives me a bit of a bad taste. Allow me to explain my concerns in a little metaphora. I must be careful here, because this metaphora might be harsher than I intend it to be, but at the moment, I feel like her relationship with Tobor is like that between a visitor and an exotic animal at the zoo. The visitor might like the animal, consider it interesting, given the choice he would feed and pet it as long as things remain easy and without cost, but the moment things become uncomfortable, the moment some investment has to be made, like donations for the zoo, the visitor withdraws, because his care doesn't go further than a superficial level. At the least, he does not care for how the animal truly feels. As said, that sounds way too harsh, but it is the best way I can describe what kind of a feeling she leaves me with. She is probably not a bad person, really, what we have seen so far is pretty damn decent no matter the intention, but like I said, I don't buy that sweet and caring attitude. Maybe I'm just playing devil's advocate here, but the thought that she might ultimately be more shallow and only out for her own amusement (even if it is a more benign form of amusement than the typical cruelty shown by slave masters) when she spends time with Tobor, that makes me wary of her.
Ah, it sounds like I'm disliking her, which I must say, is absolutely not the case I like her, even if she is exactly the way I fear she is, that won't make her any less entertaining as a character. It's just, I am a bit wary about how seemingly caring she is towards Tobor, because I have a hard time believing this to be as genuine as she makes it seem to be. It is a natural sort of distrust I have towards a character that seems to help seemingly out of the kindness of her heart. It's Meereen after all, so my trust is not coming all by itself. We'll see if she wins me over.
It might put your mind at ease if you consider the fact that Tazhyn defended her father when talking with Tobor. If her intention was to man… moreipulate Tobor I feel like she'd say agree with everything Tobor says to get him to trust her. Like instead of defending her father she could've said "Yeah, he's a piece of shit" I don't know, maybe I'm too trusting but I want to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Hm, I must say, I don't even think she is manipulating him, I want to give her the benefit of the doubt for that. It's just, that caring att… moreitude, I really don't think that is entirely genuine. She's a Master after all and while it's possible there's a white sheep among them and while I don't say they are all bad, they were raised in a certain way. Ah, I really don't want to paint her worse than I believe she is, but her care for Tobor gives me a bit of a bad taste. Allow me to explain my concerns in a little metaphora. I must be careful here, because this metaphora might be harsher than I intend it to be, but at the moment, I feel like her relationship with Tobor is like that between a visitor and an exotic animal at the zoo. The visitor might like the animal, consider it interesting, given the choice he would feed and pet it as long as things remain easy and without cost, but the moment things become uncomfortable, the moment some investmen… [view original content]
I know, it is a bit too harsh, but the basic idea is what matters here. I really don't dislike her in either way though As for giving me a more positive opinion, being nice is a good way to win my trust, yeah, but I think I just need time. If she continues to have Tobor's back even when helping him might come at a risk for her (for example, if her father outright forbids it, if being caught helping him might have seriously undesirable consequences for her), but she still keeps up with it out of the kindness of her heart, that might be a way I could actually accept that she's exactly as she seems to be. But as said, we'll see. I guess sooner or later she will do something that will either convince me of her being genuine, or confirm my fears. I hope for the former, but I don't think Tobor is in a position where blind trust is appropriate.
That does seem a very harsh way to put it! But I see what you mean.
Since being nice makes you wary I have to wonder what it'd take for her to gain a more positive opinion
Well, there's a situation coming up in my plan where it may convince you she's genuine or confirm your fears. One thing to say about Reznar is, however evil he is to his slaves, He loves his daughters, he wouldn't raise them to be evil. He raises them with love and kindness but he also raises them to support and respect him. I won't say any more now but I hope you enjoy reading it!
I know, it is a bit too harsh, but the basic idea is what matters here. I really don't dislike her in either way though As for giving me a … moremore positive opinion, being nice is a good way to win my trust, yeah, but I think I just need time. If she continues to have Tobor's back even when helping him might come at a risk for her (for example, if her father outright forbids it, if being caught helping him might have seriously undesirable consequences for her), but she still keeps up with it out of the kindness of her heart, that might be a way I could actually accept that she's exactly as she seems to be. But as said, we'll see. I guess sooner or later she will do something that will either convince me of her being genuine, or confirm my fears. I hope for the former, but I don't think Tobor is in a position where blind trust is appropriate.
Ah, fair enough, I'll wait patiently Yeah, I don't think Tazhyn is evil by any means, nor do I think Reznar sees himself as evil. It's a cultural thing though, masters treating slaves like dirt, and he clearly does, so I am wary about the daughter of such a man, who might not be traditionally evil, but still callous and ruthless to his slaves. I really have a hard time believing that she, growing up with him as a father, constantly influenced by his values, is fundamentally different, even if her approach to dealing with the slaves is obviously a different one still. But at core, what I fear is that she's a different side of the same coin. Treating the slaves with kindness instead of cruelty, but still treating them as slaves. If Tobor tries to win back his freedom, or tries to escape, would she aid him, or would she stand in his way? What if he becomes a threat to her father, would she drop him in an instant, or try to mediate between the sides? Are her apparent signs of affection genuine, or simply a way to deal with the boredom that obviously must come for a rich girl that has it all? Those are the questions that are currently still open, which will ultimately decide on how I see her.
Well, there's a situation coming up in my plan where it may convince you she's genuine or confirm your fears. One thing to say about Reznar … moreis, however evil he is to his slaves, He loves his daughters, he wouldn't raise them to be evil. He raises them with love and kindness but he also raises them to support and respect him. I won't say any more now but I hope you enjoy reading it!
Not all children follow their parents. Look at tommen and Myrcella, terrible parents but good children. I suppose that she can't be blamed for treating people as slaves, she is only fourteen and has known that her whole life.
Those are all questions you'll have to wait and find out!
Ah, fair enough, I'll wait patiently Yeah, I don't think Tazhyn is evil by any means, nor do I think Reznar sees himself as evil. It's a cu… moreltural thing though, masters treating slaves like dirt, and he clearly does, so I am wary about the daughter of such a man, who might not be traditionally evil, but still callous and ruthless to his slaves. I really have a hard time believing that she, growing up with him as a father, constantly influenced by his values, is fundamentally different, even if her approach to dealing with the slaves is obviously a different one still. But at core, what I fear is that she's a different side of the same coin. Treating the slaves with kindness instead of cruelty, but still treating them as slaves. If Tobor tries to win back his freedom, or tries to escape, would she aid him, or would she stand in his way? What if he becomes a threat to her father, would she drop him in an instant, or try to mediate between the s… [view original content]
Ah, fair enough, I'll wait patiently Yeah, I don't think Tazhyn is evil by any means, nor do I think Reznar sees himself as evil. It's a cu… moreltural thing though, masters treating slaves like dirt, and he clearly does, so I am wary about the daughter of such a man, who might not be traditionally evil, but still callous and ruthless to his slaves. I really have a hard time believing that she, growing up with him as a father, constantly influenced by his values, is fundamentally different, even if her approach to dealing with the slaves is obviously a different one still. But at core, what I fear is that she's a different side of the same coin. Treating the slaves with kindness instead of cruelty, but still treating them as slaves. If Tobor tries to win back his freedom, or tries to escape, would she aid him, or would she stand in his way? What if he becomes a threat to her father, would she drop him in an instant, or try to mediate between the s… [view original content]
Tobor will [Tire out opponent] with a [Bastard Sword]
Safe choices here, ones I would have gone for too. I would have liked to see Tobor use an arakh though! Next part will be predominantly Tobor's fight, leading on to the aftermath. Currently writing it now although it may take a few days as I am still away for a week and a bit. Looking forward to posting it!
Now that we're in the third chapter I wanted to ask if anyone has any criticism, either of my writing or of my story, dialogue etc. Or if anyone has any parts in the story that they really like and would like me to keep doing in future. Any feedback would be great! Thanks guys.
I can't think of any criticisms right this second but there are two parts of this story I really like. First would be Tazhyn. I love the playful and teasing relationship she has with Tobor. She's really likeable and she's definitely my favorite character so far, so I'd love for her to show up more. Secondly something that really stood out to me was that tease of Tobor enjoying the power of killing. I love stories that have 'good guys gone bad' not that I expect Tobor to outright become a bad guy but I enjoy characters with a dark side and I'd love to see some more of that.
Voting closed!
Tobor will [Tire out opponent] with a [Bastard Sword]
Safe choices here, ones I would have gone for too. I would have l… moreiked to see Tobor use an arakh though! Next part will be predominantly Tobor's fight, leading on to the aftermath. Currently writing it now although it may take a few days as I am still away for a week and a bit. Looking forward to posting it!
Now that we're in the third chapter I wanted to ask if anyone has any criticism, either of my writing or of my story, dialogue etc. Or if anyone has any parts in the story that they really like and would like me to keep doing in future. Any feedback would be great! Thanks guys.
Voting closed!
Tobor will [Tire out opponent] with a [Bastard Sword]
Safe choices here, ones I would have gone for too. I would have l… moreiked to see Tobor use an arakh though! Next part will be predominantly Tobor's fight, leading on to the aftermath. Currently writing it now although it may take a few days as I am still away for a week and a bit. Looking forward to posting it!
Now that we're in the third chapter I wanted to ask if anyone has any criticism, either of my writing or of my story, dialogue etc. Or if anyone has any parts in the story that they really like and would like me to keep doing in future. Any feedback would be great! Thanks guys.
If you have any criticism don't hesitate to let me know. Either here or in PM would be amazing.
Yeah I really enjoy writing Tobor and Tazhyn scenes, she will be around in the future don't worry! Ah yes, Tobor slightly enjoying killing the guard. It wasn't outright that he just enjoyed killing the guard, it was more the fact that he finally felt in power, something he'd been missing at home. I will definitely explore that later on!
I can't think of any criticisms right this second but there are two parts of this story I really like. First would be Tazhyn. I love the pla… moreyful and teasing relationship she has with Tobor. She's really likeable and she's definitely my favorite character so far, so I'd love for her to show up more. Secondly something that really stood out to me was that tease of Tobor enjoying the power of killing. I love stories that have 'good guys gone bad' not that I expect Tobor to outright become a bad guy but I enjoy characters with a dark side and I'd love to see some more of that.
Well I'm not planning on having an entire host of POV like Forum of Thrones has, but I will now and again drop a different POV character in to tell part of the story I can't tell through Tobor. I have a couple planned but it's not a lot. The main reason for this is that it's Tobor's Path of Honour, and his story so I don't need many different point of views. Hope you understand!
I understand, but having multiple POVs would make it more game of thrones-y, as not only there would be multiple stories going on, but also the safety of the POVs wouldn't be guaranteed, because if you only have one POV you know he's not gonna die, because then the story would end, but if you have more, it raises the stakes in a way. But it's your choice, not mine, just stating my opinion here.
Well I'm not planning on having an entire host of POV like Forum of Thrones has, but I will now and again drop a different POV character in … moreto tell part of the story I can't tell through Tobor. I have a couple planned but it's not a lot. The main reason for this is that it's Tobor's Path of Honour, and his story so I don't need many different point of views. Hope you understand!
Tobors snarky remarks are legendary and should be done more, but I have the feeling after the incident in the canteen Tobor is gonna cut back on those but they where very funny.
Voting closed!
Tobor will [Tire out opponent] with a [Bastard Sword]
Safe choices here, ones I would have gone for too. I would have l… moreiked to see Tobor use an arakh though! Next part will be predominantly Tobor's fight, leading on to the aftermath. Currently writing it now although it may take a few days as I am still away for a week and a bit. Looking forward to posting it!
Now that we're in the third chapter I wanted to ask if anyone has any criticism, either of my writing or of my story, dialogue etc. Or if anyone has any parts in the story that they really like and would like me to keep doing in future. Any feedback would be great! Thanks guys.
Voting closed!
Tobor will [Tire out opponent] with a [Bastard Sword]
Safe choices here, ones I would have gone for too. I would have l… moreiked to see Tobor use an arakh though! Next part will be predominantly Tobor's fight, leading on to the aftermath. Currently writing it now although it may take a few days as I am still away for a week and a bit. Looking forward to posting it!
Now that we're in the third chapter I wanted to ask if anyone has any criticism, either of my writing or of my story, dialogue etc. Or if anyone has any parts in the story that they really like and would like me to keep doing in future. Any feedback would be great! Thanks guys.
Tobor ran his fingers across the flat blade of the Bastard sword, the steel was cold beneath his fingertips. This would do. When Tobor walked back out of the pit, he knew the silver steel would be stained red. Eyeing up the door that would take him through into the arena, he picked up the sword and tested out the weight. It was a well made sword, castle forged steel. Some Westerosi had been killed for this. The crossguard was straight, the hilt rapped with black leather and the pommel was a steel circle. The blade was long, and sharp.
As Tobor pushed on the door and it swung open a wave of cheers and screams hit him. The cool damp air of the tunnel was swamped with a warm arid blast. Tobor walked out into the arena and the sand parted beneath his boot. He looked around. The cheers in the pit died out as Tobor walked. The arena was a large dome, with seats arranged in rings, each new level higher. It was filled with people, each and every one of them out to see blood. And they had seen blood, the remains of the previous fight had been removed, but they couldn't get rid of the blood. The harsh sun beat down on Tobor's bare skin. Tobor looked up into the sky, there was the golden sun but next to it was a comet, tearing the sky as if it had been ripped open, leaving blood to ooze through. The comet’s tail spread across the sky like a wound. It was a terrible colour, the colour of blood and fire. Could it be an omen? Tobor thought. He shook the notion from his mind. Focus on the task Tobor, he told himself.
The silence washed over Tobor and he squinted around the sandy pit for his opponent. There was nobody there. He held his sword up in front of him in a defensive stance. In the far end of the arena there was a box, that's where Reznar was. The master was seated in the shade with slaves attending his needs. Reznar stood and clapped. One loud, ringing clap. The cheering continued. Tobor breathed heavily, he turned around, scanning the arena. Who am I going to fight? He thought. Or what?
Suddenly, hoofbeats thundered from Tobor's left. The boy twirled gracefully in time to see a great black horse racing towards him. Tobor leapt out of the way and landed heavily in the sand. The horse galloped by and stopped, turning towards Tobor. On top of the horse sat a bronze skinned man with a long braid with bells entwined reaching down his back. In his hand was a long curved sword. An arakh. Tobor was to fight a dothraki horselord.
Tobor stood and faced his foe. He knew he would have to fight conservatively and tire out the horselord. He could never beat down a dothraki, but how could he tire out a horse? The dothraki spurred on his horse towards Tobor, sand flying from the hooves. Tobor side stepped to his right as the dothraki passed him and the silver arakh sliced through the air towards Tobor's face. Just in time Tobor pulled his sword in front of his eyes, deflecting the blade harmlessly over his head.
This wasn't like a tourney. The dothraki was riding Tobor down instead of aiming to pass on the side as a knight would in a tourney. If Tobor was in the way he would be crushed by the flying hooves of the horse. Tobor needed the dothraki on the ground. After all, what is a horselord when he is dismounted? The dothraki walked his horse in a large circle around Tobor, eyeing him up as he paced by the boy. Tobor stared defiantly back. The horselord clearly hadn't expected this green young child to survive this long. The crowd hadn't either and the previous cheers were less frequent.
The dothraki shouted some words in his harsh language. Tobor ignored them. The dothraki wheeled his horse around to face Tobor and kicked the sides of the beast aggressively. Tobor braced himself. Remembering the words of his father. “Stop worrying Tobor, in the moment you must strike, battle fever will take over your mind, you'll feel drunk. Time will slow for you, even stop. Everything will vanish, everything but the instant. Fear will go, you won't think. You'll simply act.” The horselord galloped towards Tobor, and the hoofbeats slowed, Tobor's breath slowed and the seconds passing blurred into one another. Tobor's past and Tobor's future vanished. There was only the present. Only that moment, that instant. Tobor's fear and thoughts fled and the sweat running down his face and chest was nothing to him. Tobor laughed, and swung his sword.
A cloud of sand burst up from the ground behind Tobor, a shriek of pain came from the horse. The beast writhed on the ground screaming. One of its forelegs was a stump, spraying blood. Tobor's blow had cut through the leading leg of the horse, sending it to the ground and it’s rider flying. The dothraki stood up, shouting unintelligible words of his language. His eyes were blazing pits of black rage. The cheers of the crowd turned to hisses and outrage at the foreign boy. The dothraki strode up to his horse, cutting its throat in a motion, the gift of mercy. He pointed the bloody sword at Tobor. The boy smiled, and beckoned with his left hand. Come on, Tobor thought.
The dothraki leapt over the carcass of his mount, screaming and bells ringing. Tobor parried his blade and the sword and arakh sang together the song of steel. Tobor was giving ground, he couldn't match the strength of the fully grown man, but he could try to make the horselord tired. The dothraki tried a slash, but Tobor melted out of the way, leaving the blade to cut air. The dothraki came hard towards Tobor, covering the distance between them. Tobor scrambled back, checking the blow. Tobor dodged under a strike and leapt away. The dothraki panted after him, breathing heavily. He aimed the blade at Tobor's chest but Tobor ducked under. The dothraki swept his blade in a savage upward arc, Tobor stepped lithely to the side and countered, cutting down onto an unprotected shoulder. The dothraki turned just in time, but the blade still cut deep into the upper arm of the horselord.
The dothraki hissed in pain and clutched his wounded left arm, still holding his arakh. His blood dripped between his fingers and onto the grip of the weapon. Tobor circled him, never taking his eyes off the dothraki. The horselord took his hand away from his arm sending a fresh wave of blood to his wrist, he leapt at Tobor. The boy dodged too late and the two of them collided. Tobor hit the floor, trapping the arakh below him. The dothraki fell on top of Tobor crushing the air from him. Tobor's sword landed out of arms reach.
The dothraki freed his right arm, leaving his arakh below Tobor, and punched Tobor across the face. A hard blow that set his cheek burning. Tobor couldn't feel it much, but he was aware of the swelling immediately. Tobor grabbed the dothraki by the shoulders and slammed his fist into the wound in his arm. A yell of pain burst out of the dothraki and he rolled away from Tobor, leaving the boy to run to his sword and pick up the blade. Tobor turned and saw the dothraki holding his arakh with murder in his eyes.
He took a few shaky steps towards Tobor and swung wildly. Tobor lazily parried the blade away and with the pommel of his sword, struck the dothraki across the temple causing him to stagger back. Disorientated, the dothraki struggled to focus on his opponent, he spat a mouthful of blood to the sand. The red mixed with the gold. The dothraki stumbled towards Tobor, a clumsy slash followed. Tobor leaned out of the way, answering with a rapid two handed cut at the wrist of the dothraki. The hand still held the arakh as it hit the sand. Tobor plunged his sword into the chest of the dothraki, burying it hilt deep.
Hot sticky breath poured over Tobor's face. The breath of a dying man. Tobor ripped the sword from his chest, sending a splutter of blood to the sandy floor and over himself. The dying man fell to the floor, shuddered and lay still. Tobor looked around, unsure as to what happened now. The crowd were cheering, but they celebrated the blood leaking into the sand: not him.
Tobor looked over to the box where Reznar sat. The master was holding a cup of wine, swirling the liquid lazily. He tipped the cup back and swallowed the dregs then stood. The arena went quiet. “The victor is the Westerosi! For the next battle we will have Belaquo Bonebreaker to fight Lemano.” He announced. The door that Tobor came through swung open, a boy beckoned through the door for Tobor to come to him.
When Tobor reached the door he saw that the boy was flanked by two guards. The boy smiled, “you put your sword to me now. You can't get weapon to your bed. Just here.” He motioned to the table, which had been cleared of the selection of weapons prior to the fight. Tobor nodded his thanks and placed his sword on the table. The blood on the blade dripped onto the surface. The boy opened the second door which led down the passageway back to the cells. Tobor followed and the guards trailed behind them.
The boy was slender and taller than Tobor, he had dark skin, dark short hair and a flat, round face. The most striking feature he had were his eyes. They smouldered like molten gold. He wore simple clothes of a white tunic and light blue linen breeches. He looked at Tobor curiously, opened his mouth to speak then decided better of it and looked forwards again. Tobor noticed but continued walking. The battle fever was wearing out and Tobor's heart was beating hard in his chest. He didn't want to have a conversation. All he could think about was the sound of the sword finding it’s way into the gut of the dothraki, the feel of the blood as it sprayed over him, the surprised look in the horselord’s face as the light of the living faded away and his eyes glazed over. Suddenly Tobor felt cold, the blood of the dothraki covering him was drying and it stuck to him.
The boy interrupted Tobor's thoughts. “You are Westerosi?” He asked timidly. Tobor raised an eyebrow. “Yes, and where are you from?” He responded. The boy smiled, “I come from isle of Naath. My word is Miro.” He said proudly. Tobor shook his head, “do you mean your name is Miro?” He asked. The boy looked confused. He pointed to his face, “I. Miro.” Tobor sighed, he was in no mind to teach the common tongue. Despite his irritation, Tobor smiled at Miro. He knew the boy was only trying to be friendly but Tobor also knew that in a place like this; having friends only puts you and themselves in greater danger. Thankfully Miro appeared to understand Tobor's silence, they continued to walk without speaking.
Miro led Tobor to a cold room with stone walls and asked him to remove his clothes, in his hand he held a bucket of water and a cloth. “It is for wash, you must not have blood. The Great Master does not please that.” Miro explained. Tobor swore under his breath, Reznar did everything in his power to humiliate and belittle his slaves, until they thought of themselves as little more than animals. Very well, Tobor would play by his rules, but he wouldn't let Reznar win. Tobor dropped his boots, small clothes and breeches in a pile. “Your boots go to room, the others is clean and you have new pair now.” Miro informed him. Tobor nodded and Miro began scrubbing at his back, chest, arms and legs with the cloth.
Red water pooled at his feet. The floor was slanted so the water ran to the far wall where it flowed through a hole, presumably directly into the Skahazadan river. When the blood was cleaned from Tobor's body, Miro passed him the new pair of small clothes and breeches and Tobor pulled them on then followed Miro out of the room.
“How in Westeros do you come from?” Miro asked. “Near the Wall?” Tobor shook his head. “I'm from the south. A place called Oldtown.” Miro looked blankly at him. “I don't know it.” Tobor shrugged, “it doesn't matter. You said you were from Naath, what's it like there?” Miro’s golden eyes lit up. “The butterfly isle, it is a beautiful place. I love it much. My people make music much, singing, dancing. When I am young, I live in hills but I go to sea and play. The water is warm.” Miro looked happy talking about his home island. Continuing walking along the passageway lined with metal torches, Miro told Tobor more of his island, about the butterflies, silk and spiced wine
“I tell my friend one day, I go to sea. And when I am there I go with friend and we play. But a boat swims to us and we take by men. They bring to here and I am traded. My friend somewhere other.” Miro’s eyes filled with pain. “Tazhyn help me, and she kind with me. She tell me to not disobey the Great Master or I will not live. So I do not disobey the Great Master. She teach me Low Valyrian as well, I do not speak common tongue as well.”
Tobor began to reply but was cut short by a great hulking figure stepping from a cell in front of them. Tobor tried to move out of its way but collided with Miro who fell, sprawling onto the cold ground. The figure and Tobor hit each other and Tobor stumbled back, regaining his footing. The figure was angry, “little man! You are in my way. You don't go back to where you came from by the time I count to three I'll be eating you and I'll wash it down with a cup of your blood.” The figure was a gargantuan, towering fat man, dressed in a loincloth that went down to his knees and nothing else. Tattoos covered his powerful shoulders and shaven head. A bushy beard covered his chin.
Miro got back to his feet and stepped forward to talk to the huge man. Before getting a word out, the man grabbed the boy by his waist and threw him across the passageway leaving him on the floor. He turned to Tobor and roared, “I need my food! I won my fight so I eat now! The Master says, when I win my fight I eat!” He swung a great meaty paw at Tobor's head but the boy evaded it by ducking under. Miro protested weakly, “Don't fight, we don't fight.” The noise from the conflict was echoing through the passageway and out of another cell walked a tall, slender man.
He had pale skin and a crest of dark red hair running from his brow to the nape of his neck. Dead grey eyes stared out from his scarred face. “What's going on here?” He hissed. The man turned to the noise, “Khrazz! This little man is going to die, then I eat him!” He growled. Khrazz looked to Tobor, “very well, kill him.” He leant against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. The huge man lumbered towards Tobor, arms outstretched. Tobor ducked under his arms, darting behind him and punching his back. It was unlikely that the man even felt it. He whirled around, quick for a man of his size and swung at Tobor again. The strike caught Tobor on the arm, a spike of pain shooting up his shoulder.
Tobor needed to end this, or he'd be feeding this Goliath. He looked around for a weapon, his fists wouldn't do. All he could see that could work was the metal torches hanging on the wall. Tobor jumped towards it, dragging it from it’s holder. The flame hissed and spat. The huge man grinned, “I like cooked meat!” Tobor held the torch towards the advancing man, it was heavy but Tobor could handle it. The man reached out and Tobor jabbed with the torch, the flames licking at the fingers of the man. He howled and clasped his burnt fingers. “There's some cooked meat for you, why don't you eat them?” Tobor mocked.
The man scrunched up his face in fury, he grabbed at the torch again but Tobor pulled the torch back out of reach, leaving the man off balance. Tobor drew the torch back high over his shoulder and with a sweeping, flaming arc, brought it down on the skull of the man. A dull thud sounded in the passage, flames spat and embers flew. The man fell to his knees, more confused than hurt. Khrazz watched unamused. The man put a hand to his head and looked up at Tobor. “Little man has some fight, make it better when I eat you!” He started to get to his feet to grab Tobor but the boy brought the torch down on the man's head once more. He fell backwards with a bemused expression.
He tried to sit up but failed, holding a hand to his tattooed skull he brought it away showing blood. Tobor held the torch prone to strike should the man attack again. To Tobor's surprise he began to laugh, a deep loud booming sound that reverberated in the passage. “I like you, you've got balls. Most little men like you cry and weep to me not to eat them. I won't eat you today little man.” The man struggled to his feet, Tobor held the torch ready to strike again.
“Don't worry little man, I won't eat you. Put the torch down.” The man said. Tobor didn't know what to make of it, the sudden change of heart made no sense. Should he hold on to the torch for defence or trust this attacker? Tobor looked at the man, his eyes were locked onto his own. Tobor supposed he could just hit him again to be sure. The man reached out a hand.
[Hand him the Torch][Hold onto the Torch][Hit him again]
[Hold onto the torch]
I must admit this part was great of all.Tobor is more talented that I thought.
And yes that monster isnt believable to me so without hitting him(That might anger him)just hold the torch on hand✊ any cunning approach may come
Hot Sand and Warm Blood
Part 2
Tobor ran his fingers across the flat blade of the Bastard sword, the steel was cold beneath his fingert… moreips. This would do. When Tobor walked back out of the pit, he knew the silver steel would be stained red. Eyeing up the door that would take him through into the arena, he picked up the sword and tested out the weight. It was a well made sword, castle forged steel. Some Westerosi had been killed for this. The crossguard was straight, the hilt rapped with black leather and the pommel was a steel circle. The blade was long, and sharp.
As Tobor pushed on the door and it swung open a wave of cheers and screams hit him. The cool damp air of the tunnel was swamped with a warm arid blast. Tobor walked out into the arena and the sand parted beneath his boot. He looked around. The cheers in the pit died out as Tobor walked. The arena was a large dome, with seats arranged in rings, each new level higher. It was … [view original content]
[Hand him the Torch] I think tobor earned his respect and I believe the guy. If not there is propebly another torch. Depending on how long he wil be there ( I kind of expect a timeskip) he is going to become a beast of a fighter.
Hot Sand and Warm Blood
Part 2
Tobor ran his fingers across the flat blade of the Bastard sword, the steel was cold beneath his fingert… moreips. This would do. When Tobor walked back out of the pit, he knew the silver steel would be stained red. Eyeing up the door that would take him through into the arena, he picked up the sword and tested out the weight. It was a well made sword, castle forged steel. Some Westerosi had been killed for this. The crossguard was straight, the hilt rapped with black leather and the pommel was a steel circle. The blade was long, and sharp.
As Tobor pushed on the door and it swung open a wave of cheers and screams hit him. The cool damp air of the tunnel was swamped with a warm arid blast. Tobor walked out into the arena and the sand parted beneath his boot. He looked around. The cheers in the pit died out as Tobor walked. The arena was a large dome, with seats arranged in rings, each new level higher. It was … [view original content]
Tobor is a skilled fighter, he practiced fighting from a young age thanks to his brother Mace. The only thing is he is just young so obviously not as strong as he could be. That being said, he is actually around the same age as Jon and Robb in the book!
Yes hitting him might anger him, but also holding onto the torch could anger him too! He's quite an unpredictable guy, just walking into him made him angry!
[Hold onto the torch]
I must admit this part was great of all.Tobor is more talented that I thought.
And yes that monster isnt believable to me so without hitting him(That might anger him)just hold the torch on hand✊ any cunning approach may come
[Hand him the Torch] I think tobor earned his respect and I believe the guy. If not there is propebly another torch. Depending on how long he wil be there ( I kind of expect a timeskip) he is going to become a beast of a fighter.
Yeah but fighting a Dotharki horselord is bit too hard
And Hitting that guy with torch is a option a dont like.His intention may be good so without hitting that guy just hold the torch for defence and the rest is upto that guy
Tobor is a skilled fighter, he practiced fighting from a young age thanks to his brother Mace. The only thing is he is just young so obvious… morely not as strong as he could be. That being said, he is actually around the same age as Jon and Robb in the book!
Yes hitting him might anger him, but also holding onto the torch could anger him too! He's quite an unpredictable guy, just walking into him made him angry!
Yeah but fighting a Dotharki horselord is bit too hard
And Hitting that guy with torch is a option a dont like.His intention may be good so without hitting that guy just hold the torch for defence and the rest is upto that guy
[Hold onto the Torch] I can't say I trust the sudden change of heart but let's not attack. If he's being genuine than he won't attack. If he's lying Tobor has the means to defend himself.
Hot Sand and Warm Blood
Part 2
Tobor ran his fingers across the flat blade of the Bastard sword, the steel was cold beneath his fingert… moreips. This would do. When Tobor walked back out of the pit, he knew the silver steel would be stained red. Eyeing up the door that would take him through into the arena, he picked up the sword and tested out the weight. It was a well made sword, castle forged steel. Some Westerosi had been killed for this. The crossguard was straight, the hilt rapped with black leather and the pommel was a steel circle. The blade was long, and sharp.
As Tobor pushed on the door and it swung open a wave of cheers and screams hit him. The cool damp air of the tunnel was swamped with a warm arid blast. Tobor walked out into the arena and the sand parted beneath his boot. He looked around. The cheers in the pit died out as Tobor walked. The arena was a large dome, with seats arranged in rings, each new level higher. It was … [view original content]
Hot Sand and Warm Blood
Part 2
Tobor ran his fingers across the flat blade of the Bastard sword, the steel was cold beneath his fingert… moreips. This would do. When Tobor walked back out of the pit, he knew the silver steel would be stained red. Eyeing up the door that would take him through into the arena, he picked up the sword and tested out the weight. It was a well made sword, castle forged steel. Some Westerosi had been killed for this. The crossguard was straight, the hilt rapped with black leather and the pommel was a steel circle. The blade was long, and sharp.
As Tobor pushed on the door and it swung open a wave of cheers and screams hit him. The cool damp air of the tunnel was swamped with a warm arid blast. Tobor walked out into the arena and the sand parted beneath his boot. He looked around. The cheers in the pit died out as Tobor walked. The arena was a large dome, with seats arranged in rings, each new level higher. It was … [view original content]
Hot Sand and Warm Blood
Part 2
Tobor ran his fingers across the flat blade of the Bastard sword, the steel was cold beneath his fingert… moreips. This would do. When Tobor walked back out of the pit, he knew the silver steel would be stained red. Eyeing up the door that would take him through into the arena, he picked up the sword and tested out the weight. It was a well made sword, castle forged steel. Some Westerosi had been killed for this. The crossguard was straight, the hilt rapped with black leather and the pommel was a steel circle. The blade was long, and sharp.
As Tobor pushed on the door and it swung open a wave of cheers and screams hit him. The cool damp air of the tunnel was swamped with a warm arid blast. Tobor walked out into the arena and the sand parted beneath his boot. He looked around. The cheers in the pit died out as Tobor walked. The arena was a large dome, with seats arranged in rings, each new level higher. It was … [view original content]
So... Tazhyn kept her word, is that correct? I just don't know, but I'd say that counts She promised Tobor to try and not have him fighting against some beast and technically, that's what happened and I would really like to believe she had a hand in this. I mean, sure, there was a horse involved, but I don't count that as a beast and I guess neither does Tobor. Or maybe he does? Anyways, it might have been a coincidence, so that is not enough to win my trust, but it is definitely not a step in the wrong direction. Though if she truly helped him out here, that makes me only further curious what her intentions are, what she actually seeks to accomplish by helping her father's slave. Intriguing, I'd say and a source of much speculation. All signs point towards her being genuine in her intentions, but that really makes me wonder why she is so nice to him, same goes for her mentioned interaction with Miro.
[Hold onto the Torch]
I do not believe that guy. Trust issues can't always be a bad thing, one day I will distrust the right person and instinctively choose the better choice as a result. And let's be honest here, some freaking cannibal brute is by far the least trustworthy person Tobor has met so far and this includes every slaver, pirate and anything inbetween. Might be that this guy is genuine. But well, even if, I think holding onto the torch is a smart move, because it is a brave move. He voiced respect for Tobor because of his bravery, so I guess he won't be too impressed if he submits now.
Hot Sand and Warm Blood
Part 2
Tobor ran his fingers across the flat blade of the Bastard sword, the steel was cold beneath his fingert… moreips. This would do. When Tobor walked back out of the pit, he knew the silver steel would be stained red. Eyeing up the door that would take him through into the arena, he picked up the sword and tested out the weight. It was a well made sword, castle forged steel. Some Westerosi had been killed for this. The crossguard was straight, the hilt rapped with black leather and the pommel was a steel circle. The blade was long, and sharp.
As Tobor pushed on the door and it swung open a wave of cheers and screams hit him. The cool damp air of the tunnel was swamped with a warm arid blast. Tobor walked out into the arena and the sand parted beneath his boot. He looked around. The cheers in the pit died out as Tobor walked. The arena was a large dome, with seats arranged in rings, each new level higher. It was … [view original content]
We don't know what Tazhyn did or didn't say to her father yet, I suppose we'll have to find out Tobor doesn't know what to think about whether Tazhyn helped him in the end or not, he wants to believe she's doing the right thing but it's so difficult to trust people.
I would trust this guy way before I would trust Reznar! But yes I see your point, it's not a bad choice at all. I like your reasoning behind it, I hadnt thought of it that way
So... Tazhyn kept her word, is that correct? I just don't know, but I'd say that counts She promised Tobor to try and not have him fighting… more against some beast and technically, that's what happened and I would really like to believe she had a hand in this. I mean, sure, there was a horse involved, but I don't count that as a beast and I guess neither does Tobor. Or maybe he does? Anyways, it might have been a coincidence, so that is not enough to win my trust, but it is definitely not a step in the wrong direction. Though if she truly helped him out here, that makes me only further curious what her intentions are, what she actually seeks to accomplish by helping her father's slave. Intriguing, I'd say and a source of much speculation. All signs point towards her being genuine in her intentions, but that really makes me wonder why she is so nice to him, same goes for her mentioned interaction with Miro.
[Hold onto the Torch]
I do not bel… [view original content]
Hot Sand and Warm Blood
Part 2
Tobor ran his fingers across the flat blade of the Bastard sword, the steel was cold beneath his fingert… moreips. This would do. When Tobor walked back out of the pit, he knew the silver steel would be stained red. Eyeing up the door that would take him through into the arena, he picked up the sword and tested out the weight. It was a well made sword, castle forged steel. Some Westerosi had been killed for this. The crossguard was straight, the hilt rapped with black leather and the pommel was a steel circle. The blade was long, and sharp.
As Tobor pushed on the door and it swung open a wave of cheers and screams hit him. The cool damp air of the tunnel was swamped with a warm arid blast. Tobor walked out into the arena and the sand parted beneath his boot. He looked around. The cheers in the pit died out as Tobor walked. The arena was a large dome, with seats arranged in rings, each new level higher. It was … [view original content]
This was quite a tough choice really, it all rests on what sort of man that huge beast is! As I said before, I'm away at the moment so my writing speed has slowed down. I'm back in a few days though! The next part will come out in the next week I hope. Looking forward to it!
Tobor took a step back, his hands remaining firmly locked around the torch. Something glinted in the man's eyes. Was it fury, or admiration? Tobor wasn't sure. Blindingly fast, the man grabbed hold of the torch and pulled hard. Tobor's arms felt like they would rip from his shoulders. He stumbled forward and let go. The man held the torch between his huge arms and with a grunt, smashed the torch against the stone wall. The flaming end of the torch sparked and the metal crumpled. The torch hit the floor with a clatter as the man dropped it. “I said put it down little man.” He growled.
“What is going on?” Came an angry voice from a cell down the passage. Khrazz snapped his head round to look at the noise, a look of fear entering his dead eyes. Miro whimpered and ran. From the cell door walked a woman. She was slim, but powerful. Her dark eyes glistened with anger and her dark-skinned face was twisted in a snarl. Her face was scarred several times, most notably one through her right eyebrow, another on her forehead and one terrifying scar across her throat. It was a wonder it hadn't killed her.
“It wasn't me, I swear it.” Khrazz protested. The women gave him a look that would freeze fire. “Fuck off Khrazz or I'll cut off your cock.” She hissed. “Tell me, what did you do to piss him off? Why shouldn't I let him eat you?” She said to Tobor. The boy looked into the women's dark eyes, there was pain there. And anger. “I did nothing, he walked out of his cell into me, then blamed it on me. Maybe he's been hit on the head one too many times but I did nothing.” She looked at the huge man. He shook his head, “It doesn't matter now little man, you have strength of ten of your size. I won't eat you because you have proved a match for me.”
Khrazz snorted, “all he did was hit you with…” The women sprang like a cat at a mouse. She darted towards Khrazz and using her fists, beat him to the ground with a savage ferocity. “I said fuck off Khrazz, or didn't you hear me?” She kicked him in the gut, Khrazz gasped for air. Tobor was on edge; what sort of people were these? He asked himself. The answer came instantly. Pit fighters. Blood is all they know. Will I become like this?
Khrazz pushed himself to his knees, he spat out several teeth, they rattled on the floor. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The women put her foot on his chest and pushed back gently, so Khrazz was leant against the wall. “Now do you want to shut the fuck up or do I have to show you how much of a bitch you are again? I should have your cock, I'm more of a man than you'll ever be.” Khrazz looked up defiantly and with hatred. He opened his mouth to speak but then the defiance fled from his eyes and he looked at the ground. The women pushed hard against the wall with her foot and Khrazz moaned in pain. “Now fuck off and leave before I decide against it.” She said. Khrazz got to his feet with difficulty, then trudged away to his cell.
The women turned to Tobor, “Who are you? One who has made this beast respect you?” Tobor drew himself up with all the pride he could muster. “Tobor of the House Hightower, from Westeros.” The women scoffed, “Westerosi prick, I don't care what house you are.” Tobor narrowed his eyes, “Then who are you?” He challenged. The women scowled at him, “I am someone that you should respect unless you want your life in here to be shorter than it would be otherwise.” She spoke with a strong accent that Tobor couldn’t place. Perhaps the summer isles?
“In here, you must follow the chain of command or you die. Yet even if you follow the chain of command you will probably still die. You have the Masters then guards, and then me. I am a slave, a pit fighter. I am low, but look at you, a little highborn prick in a pit fighter world you're even lower than me. You wouldn’t last one fight.” She said scornfully. Tobor laughed, “well I think that’s where you’re wrong. I’ve just got out of the pit, leaving behind a dothraki with my sword in his chest. I took on this big cunt and look at the one who’s bleeding, I’ll give you a hint it’s not me. I can handle myself” He said. The giant looked at Tobor, “We don’t know who you are until we see you bleed, little man.”
The woman stared at Tobor, “Is it true you have won a victory?” Tobor nodded. “Then you have started on the path of survival. It is a difficult path and one you must tread lightly. No man is your friend, no woman. In here there are no sides, only those who try to kill you and those who don’t. In here you meet people and you must either love or destroy them. For if you leave them with some minor damage, they’ll return stronger and hunting for revenge. But if you finish them, leave them cold and lifeless, what can they do? You must destroy them so you don’t fear their vengeance.” She said bitterly.
Tobor looked at her bemused. This woman had seen real pain and betrayal to think this way. He wondered what had happened. The woman looked at Tobor, “You might have won a fight, but don’t think it means anything. The only thing you find here is death and blood. I do not think you will last long here and I do not respect you, even if he does.” She pointed to the big man. “While you try to show me that you are worth my time, stay out my fucking way or you’ll think what I did to Khrazz was a blessing.”
“And if you aren’t impressed by me?” Tobor asked. The woman shrugged, “Then Se Dyni gets his food.” Tobor raised an eyebrow. “Se Dyni? Is that High Valyrian?” The woman laughed, “Fucking Westerosi.” She turned to walk away, “Come.” She said to Se Dyni. The big man followed. Tobor stood and watched them walk. Once they had entered their cells Tobor continued towards his own, it wasn’t far.
He still wasn’t quite sure what was happening, the woman was clearly in charge, or held some amount of power. Why were Khrazz and Miro so scared of her? He’d only fought the Dothraki that morning but it felt like weeks ago.
He was nearing his cell when he heard voices around the corner. He was surprised to hear Tazhyn talking with her father, “Of course my dear, you may continue healing the slaves, we will want you to be a skilled healer. You do still wish to have the honour of the Blue Graces?” he asked her. Tazhyn replied that she did. “I only have one issue with this, my sweet.” He continued. “The Westerosi slave boy and Belaquo. You must stay away from them. They are both savages and they are a danger to you.” He said sharply. Tazhyn protested, “But father, Tobor has been forced into this, he isn’t savage!” Tobor couldn’t see anything but he heard a small slap, Reznar had hit her. “Enough, you are my daughter and you will respect my commands.” He took a breath. “My apologies child, that was ill-done. You must understand, it is only my wish that you be safe. You and Mezzara are the two most precious things I own in this world, my sun and moon. Come, it is the time for eating and happiness, not these dull arguments. We must celebrate the victory in the pit today.” Tobor heard footsteps, he peeked around the corner. There was nobody there. Tobor found his way to his cell, he lay down and slept.
Over the passing weeks, Tobor found that pit fighters didn’t do much while they weren’t fighting. His day consisted of being woken by guards, then being told to clean something in the cell area, then perhaps some menial task that seemed designed to just keep him busy. Tobor assumed it was to keep firstly pit fighters in general away from Reznar and his family but also to keep Tobor away from Tazhyn.
Miro visited fairly often, he came to talk to Tobor and question him about Westeros: What is the Wall like? Are you a knight? Have you ever seen a dragon? Tobor humored him because he had nothing else to do and Miro seemed nice. Tobor admitted to himself it was interesting to have someone to talk to.
Tazhyn didn’t visit again in those weeks, Tobor felt mildly annoyed. Did she think he was some animal to be visited when she felt inclined to? He remembered what she had said about her father, she must respect him. But even so, if she cared then she would be there wouldn’t she? Tobor hated feeling so confused about it, was she genuine or not.
Tobor fought again twice, he had a fight against a Meereenese boy no older than himself armed with a spear. The boy was shaking so much that the spear was useless in his hands. Tobor killed the boy in minutes. Guilt weighed heavy that night. Dodging the clumsy lunges of the boy, then slashing across his throat, opening his neck in a red smile. Tobor tried to make it as quick as possible.
The other fight was a different matter, he had to face a Braavosi water dancer. Tobor’s good fortune meant the Braavosi was armed with a heavier sword than he was used to but was still a formidable enemy with it. His blinding speed and agility meant Tobor never knew where the attack was coming from. Tobor was cut time and time again by the razor edge of the sword, on his arms, legs and one strike across the chest. By some stroke of luck or intervention from gods, Tobor found the strength to cut across, laying his blade into the hilt of the Braavosi’s sword. Tobor’s sword sheared through the water dancer’s fingers and the Braavosi yelled in pain. Tobor reacted quickly, ending the pain with a blow to his neck. Half beheading him, leaving his body to fall beside his fingers.
When he wasn’t fighting, Tobor kept to himself as much as possible. The memory of what happened with Bradon was still fresh in his mind. Somedays when he wasn’t fighting and no guards commanded him to do anything he would just stand and talk to the guard outside his cell. The guard was usually incredibly bored as a result of his dull, dutiful task, so he would relish talking to Tobor. He spoke the common tongue well, and would tell Tobor of his parents and family, his life. Occasionally he would ask Tobor about his and Tobor would respond.
Sometimes when the guard talked he would talk about what was happening in Westeros. When Tobor had left Westeros, Ned Stark had been executed and the continent was in turmoil, according to the guard; Robb Stark was marching south and declared King in the North, while the late King Robert’s two brothers had both claimed the throne. The guard remarked that Westerosis were far too worried about who sat on that sword-chair.
Tobor was interested by this, the King in the North. There hadn’t been a northern king since Torrhen Stark knelt to Aegon the Conqueror. The Young Wolf, they were calling him. Tobor wondered if the history books would remember this King in the North better than the King that Knelt. Tobor had met Renly Baratheon several times at court when he squired for Ser Barristan. Tobor had heard rumours and jokes that Ser Loras Tyrell had been stabbing Renly with a sword many times. Tobor hadn’t ever understood the joke since how could Loras be stabbing Renly without him getting wounded.
Renly seemed like a pleasant man, although not fit to be a king in Tobor’s opinion. Tobor didn’t know what you needed to be a good king but he just had an instinct that Renly wouldn’t be suitable. On one occasion; Renly had asked Tobor and two of his other squires to help squire for him in a tourney. Tobor, Corlys and Osford hadn’t talked much before but had all reveled in the opportunity because with so many squires, Ser Barristan hadn’t often been able to let each boy squire.
Tobor smiled while remembering that day, Corlys had been asked to help Renly train for the melee and with blunted practice swords they began hacking at each other with a flurry of blows. Tobor and Osford watched. Somehow, Corlys always knew where Renly would strike and would block it or dodge with ease. Corlys stepped aside to evade a strike and Renly tripped and fell into the mud, his fantastic green and gold cloak was covered in dirt so he couldn’t wear it. Tobor said that the Baratheon should wear his grey Hightower cloak just inside out so the sigil wasn’t visible. Renly laughed and thanked him but denied, he fought and jousted cloakless that day, all thanks to Corlys’ skill.
It was the same in the practice yard when Tobor and Corlys fought, he would sense exactly where Tobor would swing and would beat him with ease. Corlys would never let Tobor forget it when he would knock the Hightower boy into the dust. Tobor got his own back when the two of them along with Osford stole a flagon of wine from the kitchens and drank until dawn when their heads were spinning and Cor was vomiting. As Corlys was unconscious Tobor and Osford dragged him into the stables where the stable girl he had admitted to liking worked. They covered him in horse dung and waited for morning when the stable girl came in and found a drunken squire covered in shit professing his undying love for her.
Unsurprisingly the girl didn’t take it too well and hit him with a broom until Corlys stumbled away. With a pounding head ache Cor tried to hit Tobor but the Hightower boy dodged and Corlys fell over laughing. The friendship between Os, Tobor and Cor grew fast and strong ever since that day.
The guard shook Tobor out of his reverie, “Did you hear me? I said dragons!” he said exasperatedly. Tobor looked confused, “What about dragons?” he asked. The guard rolled his eyes, “I heard tell from my friend that he heard a sailor come from Qarth talk about dragons! Some blonde woman had some.” He said excitedly. Tobor sniggered, “There aren’t any dragons, they all died out hundreds of years ago. Did you hear about any Grumpkins or Snarks?” he joked. The guard looked annoyed, “Fuck off, they’ll be dragons flying the skies one day and you’ll wish you believed me!”
“I’m sorry that wasn’t good of me, I apologise.” Tobor said. The guard grunted, “Yes, well, I need to leave, I have other duties.” He sidled away. Tobor sat on his bed. As the guard walked around the corner, Miro came into view and waved to Tobor who returned the gesture. Miro walked to the bars and greeted Tobor. Miro’s grasp of the common tongue was improving every day, the constant talking to Tobor was helping. “Miro, it’s good to see you, what questions about Westeros can I answer today?” Miro laughed, “Don’t worry Tobor, I do not want to know more at the moment. I wanted to tell you something.” He said.
“Of course, go ahead.” Tobor said amicably. Miro glanced around as if scared of someone, “Well I was serving the Great Master his meal and this friend of yours comes in and they talk in common tongue, which they do not understand that I know it as well.” Tobor interrupted, “When you say my friend, do you mean Bradon?” Miro nodded. “Bradon and the Great Master were talking and I do not hear much because I am in different room, but I hear the Master say ‘do not fail me and you will have your freedom.’ I do not understand it, so I come to you to say you.” Miro seemed anxious. Tobor thought about this, what could Bradon be doing for the Master that would secure his freedom? Perhaps Reznar was lying, or maybe he wasn’t and Bradon could go free. Tobor had to talk to Bradon, but if he let slip that Miro had overheard them then Miro would be punished for eavesdropping. Could he risk it and just ask Bradon outright what he was doing? And in any case, Bradon and Tobor weren’t exactly on speaking terms.
Tobor looked at Miro, “Where is Bradon now?” he asked. Miro looked thoughtful, “He should be preparing weapons for the next fight in the arena. I think it’s Se Dyni and a Myrish man. I can take you if you want, I will say we have been told to wash the weapons after the fight.”
Tobor smiled, “Thank you Miro that would be perfect, you’ve done well.” He praised. Miro grinned, “Like a Westerosi knight!” Tobor laughed, “Yes, like a knight.”
Miro left, explaining he would find a guard and explain they needed the keys to carry out their duties. He returned quickly and Tobor was released from the cell. The two of them walked down the passageway towards the pit.
As they walked Miro asked more questions about Westeros, mainly about Knights. Why did someone get knighted? Because of an act of bravery or skill. Have you ever met a knight? Tobor replied he squired to the greatest knight who ever lived. Who is it? What’s a squire? The questions went on and on, but Tobor didn’t mind. Talking about home was all he had at this time.
They reached the door to the weapons room and it was slightly ajar, Bradon would be inside there. Tobor would have maybe ten minutes before Se Dyni or the Myrish man turned up for their weapons and fight. First, he had to decide how to talk to him, Tobor wasn’t sure whether he should make it clear he was only here to talk about what he had heard, or if he should be cunning and apologise about his hand then mention what he had heard.
[Be Cunning][Be Truthful]
Not to mention, whether he should keep Miro’s involvement secret. Tobor could lie about how he heard it but that would be difficult to handle and Bradon wouldn’t tell Tobor anything if he knew Tobor was lying, on the other hand, admitting how he heard about it could make Miro’s life difficult and Tobor felt like he owed the boy a certain amount of loyalty. What is the honourable thing to do when one is lying and the other is disloyal?
Comments
Haha, pretty lucky then! I think from Bradon's point of view, he'd just forgiven Tobor for messing up at the auction and now Tobor did what he did at the food hall immediately after. So Bradon will find it very difficult to forgive him this time. We will see if their friendship continues.
Reznar is not a man you want to be on the wrong side of. He's cold and calculating, an intelligent man, but like everyone he has his weaknesses. Reznar is smart enough to know he won't hurt Tobor, but Tobor is smart enough to know that he can't do what he wants, Reznar will hurt his friends if that happens.
I really don't know what it is... I want to like Tazhyn, but there is something about her that is really striking me in the wrong way. Maybe it's me and I am just paranoid, I would never put that past me, but fact is, I am not buying what she says. I mean, neither do I think she purposely screws him over, making his situation worse than it already is. It would take a complete asshole to play with someone like that and I really don't think she is that bad, but neither do I feel like she is genuine in the beliefs she just stated. Like, she's probably not thinking this through all that thoroughly. So, my current opinion on her is that she's too good to be true. She very likely is better than her father, I give her that, but I think it sounds likely that she is just trying to pass some time, the rich daughter of an even richer man, trying out something new out of mere curiosity, by interacting with the slaves for the thrill of it. We'll see where her loyalties lie when Tobor is not the novelty he is right now anymore, when helping him out might even start to become dangerous to her. That's where we'll see if these are her true colours or if there's something darker, or at least more apathetic behind her seemingly caring facade. Or maybe I am wrong and she really is that good, but for the time being, I remain cautious.
[Tire out opponent]
If Tobor would be a fully grown man and trained warrior, brute force would be the way to go. We don't know whom he is sent to fight against, but it might be some guy who is weaker than Tobor, sure. But if it is a stronger, more seasoned fighter, I believe we should be careful here.
[Bastard Sword]
I feel like Tobor is overestimating himself if he is going to pick a weapon he has no experience with. That sword staff and arakh are both fundamentally different from the weapons Tobor knows from home, so if this is his first time with them, he'd be at a disadvantage.
Hmm, that is very paranoid! But I suppose we'll see if the paranoia was worthy in the future. I'm not going to say anything that would give parts of the story away so all I can say is we'll wait and see!
Both good choices, I guess with the arakh or staff, if Tobor knew his opponent then very well, he would be at a better place to choose his weapon or fighting style. But the thing is, they don't tell you who your fighting. Or what. Tobor still doesn't know whether he's fighting man or beast remember. This could be meal time for Reznar's favourite lion.
It might put your mind at ease if you consider the fact that Tazhyn defended her father when talking with Tobor. If her intention was to manipulate Tobor I feel like she'd say agree with everything Tobor says to get him to trust her. Like instead of defending her father she could've said "Yeah, he's a piece of shit" I don't know, maybe I'm too trusting but I want to give her the benefit of the doubt.
Hm, I must say, I don't even think she is manipulating him, I want to give her the benefit of the doubt for that. It's just, that caring attitude, I really don't think that is entirely genuine. She's a Master after all and while it's possible there's a white sheep among them and while I don't say they are all bad, they were raised in a certain way. Ah, I really don't want to paint her worse than I believe she is, but her care for Tobor gives me a bit of a bad taste. Allow me to explain my concerns in a little metaphora. I must be careful here, because this metaphora might be harsher than I intend it to be, but at the moment, I feel like her relationship with Tobor is like that between a visitor and an exotic animal at the zoo. The visitor might like the animal, consider it interesting, given the choice he would feed and pet it as long as things remain easy and without cost, but the moment things become uncomfortable, the moment some investment has to be made, like donations for the zoo, the visitor withdraws, because his care doesn't go further than a superficial level. At the least, he does not care for how the animal truly feels. As said, that sounds way too harsh, but it is the best way I can describe what kind of a feeling she leaves me with. She is probably not a bad person, really, what we have seen so far is pretty damn decent no matter the intention, but like I said, I don't buy that sweet and caring attitude. Maybe I'm just playing devil's advocate here, but the thought that she might ultimately be more shallow and only out for her own amusement (even if it is a more benign form of amusement than the typical cruelty shown by slave masters) when she spends time with Tobor, that makes me wary of her.
Ah, it sounds like I'm disliking her, which I must say, is absolutely not the case
I like her, even if she is exactly the way I fear she is, that won't make her any less entertaining as a character. It's just, I am a bit wary about how seemingly caring she is towards Tobor, because I have a hard time believing this to be as genuine as she makes it seem to be. It is a natural sort of distrust I have towards a character that seems to help seemingly out of the kindness of her heart. It's Meereen after all, so my trust is not coming all by itself. We'll see if she wins me over.
That does seem a very harsh way to put it!
But I see what you mean.
Since being nice makes you wary I have to wonder what it'd take for her to gain a more positive opinion
I know, it is a bit too harsh, but the basic idea is what matters here. I really don't dislike her in either way though
As for giving me a more positive opinion, being nice is a good way to win my trust, yeah, but I think I just need time. If she continues to have Tobor's back even when helping him might come at a risk for her (for example, if her father outright forbids it, if being caught helping him might have seriously undesirable consequences for her), but she still keeps up with it out of the kindness of her heart, that might be a way I could actually accept that she's exactly as she seems to be. But as said, we'll see. I guess sooner or later she will do something that will either convince me of her being genuine, or confirm my fears. I hope for the former, but I don't think Tobor is in a position where blind trust is appropriate.
Well, there's a situation coming up in my plan where it may convince you she's genuine or confirm your fears. One thing to say about Reznar is, however evil he is to his slaves, He loves his daughters, he wouldn't raise them to be evil. He raises them with love and kindness but he also raises them to support and respect him. I won't say any more now but I hope you enjoy reading it!
Ah, fair enough, I'll wait patiently
Yeah, I don't think Tazhyn is evil by any means, nor do I think Reznar sees himself as evil. It's a cultural thing though, masters treating slaves like dirt, and he clearly does, so I am wary about the daughter of such a man, who might not be traditionally evil, but still callous and ruthless to his slaves. I really have a hard time believing that she, growing up with him as a father, constantly influenced by his values, is fundamentally different, even if her approach to dealing with the slaves is obviously a different one still. But at core, what I fear is that she's a different side of the same coin. Treating the slaves with kindness instead of cruelty, but still treating them as slaves. If Tobor tries to win back his freedom, or tries to escape, would she aid him, or would she stand in his way? What if he becomes a threat to her father, would she drop him in an instant, or try to mediate between the sides? Are her apparent signs of affection genuine, or simply a way to deal with the boredom that obviously must come for a rich girl that has it all? Those are the questions that are currently still open, which will ultimately decide on how I see her.
Not all children follow their parents. Look at tommen and Myrcella, terrible parents but good children. I suppose that she can't be blamed for treating people as slaves, she is only fourteen and has known that her whole life.
Those are all questions you'll have to wait and find out!
Edit: double post
Voting closed!
Tobor will [Tire out opponent] with a [Bastard Sword]
Safe choices here, ones I would have gone for too. I would have liked to see Tobor use an arakh though! Next part will be predominantly Tobor's fight, leading on to the aftermath. Currently writing it now although it may take a few days as I am still away for a week and a bit. Looking forward to posting it!
Now that we're in the third chapter I wanted to ask if anyone has any criticism, either of my writing or of my story, dialogue etc. Or if anyone has any parts in the story that they really like and would like me to keep doing in future. Any feedback would be great! Thanks guys.
I can't think of any criticisms right this second but there are two parts of this story I really like. First would be Tazhyn. I love the playful and teasing relationship she has with Tobor. She's really likeable and she's definitely my favorite character so far, so I'd love for her to show up more. Secondly something that really stood out to me was that tease of Tobor enjoying the power of killing. I love stories that have 'good guys gone bad' not that I expect Tobor to outright become a bad guy but I enjoy characters with a dark side and I'd love to see some more of that.
The only criticism I can think of is having only one PoV. But it's a great fic, keep it up!
If you have any criticism don't hesitate to let me know. Either here or in PM would be amazing.
Yeah I really enjoy writing Tobor and Tazhyn scenes, she will be around in the future don't worry! Ah yes, Tobor slightly enjoying killing the guard. It wasn't outright that he just enjoyed killing the guard, it was more the fact that he finally felt in power, something he'd been missing at home. I will definitely explore that later on!
Well I'm not planning on having an entire host of POV like Forum of Thrones has, but I will now and again drop a different POV character in to tell part of the story I can't tell through Tobor. I have a couple planned but it's not a lot. The main reason for this is that it's Tobor's Path of Honour, and his story so I don't need many different point of views. Hope you understand!
I understand, but having multiple POVs would make it more game of thrones-y, as not only there would be multiple stories going on, but also the safety of the POVs wouldn't be guaranteed, because if you only have one POV you know he's not gonna die, because then the story would end, but if you have more, it raises the stakes in a way. But it's your choice, not mine, just stating my opinion here.
Tobors snarky remarks are legendary and should be done more, but I have the feeling after the incident in the canteen Tobor is gonna cut back on those but they where very funny.
Hello, I'm new to this story, but it looks very good. I might submit a character to you soon.
Hi thanks for your interest and kind words. I look forward to seeing your Character!
Hey, I sent you a pm.
Hi, yeah just about to look at your submission!
Hot Sand and Warm Blood
Part 2
Tobor ran his fingers across the flat blade of the Bastard sword, the steel was cold beneath his fingertips. This would do. When Tobor walked back out of the pit, he knew the silver steel would be stained red. Eyeing up the door that would take him through into the arena, he picked up the sword and tested out the weight. It was a well made sword, castle forged steel. Some Westerosi had been killed for this. The crossguard was straight, the hilt rapped with black leather and the pommel was a steel circle. The blade was long, and sharp.
As Tobor pushed on the door and it swung open a wave of cheers and screams hit him. The cool damp air of the tunnel was swamped with a warm arid blast. Tobor walked out into the arena and the sand parted beneath his boot. He looked around. The cheers in the pit died out as Tobor walked. The arena was a large dome, with seats arranged in rings, each new level higher. It was filled with people, each and every one of them out to see blood. And they had seen blood, the remains of the previous fight had been removed, but they couldn't get rid of the blood. The harsh sun beat down on Tobor's bare skin. Tobor looked up into the sky, there was the golden sun but next to it was a comet, tearing the sky as if it had been ripped open, leaving blood to ooze through. The comet’s tail spread across the sky like a wound. It was a terrible colour, the colour of blood and fire. Could it be an omen? Tobor thought. He shook the notion from his mind. Focus on the task Tobor, he told himself.
The silence washed over Tobor and he squinted around the sandy pit for his opponent. There was nobody there. He held his sword up in front of him in a defensive stance. In the far end of the arena there was a box, that's where Reznar was. The master was seated in the shade with slaves attending his needs. Reznar stood and clapped. One loud, ringing clap. The cheering continued. Tobor breathed heavily, he turned around, scanning the arena. Who am I going to fight? He thought. Or what?
Suddenly, hoofbeats thundered from Tobor's left. The boy twirled gracefully in time to see a great black horse racing towards him. Tobor leapt out of the way and landed heavily in the sand. The horse galloped by and stopped, turning towards Tobor. On top of the horse sat a bronze skinned man with a long braid with bells entwined reaching down his back. In his hand was a long curved sword. An arakh. Tobor was to fight a dothraki horselord.
Tobor stood and faced his foe. He knew he would have to fight conservatively and tire out the horselord. He could never beat down a dothraki, but how could he tire out a horse? The dothraki spurred on his horse towards Tobor, sand flying from the hooves. Tobor side stepped to his right as the dothraki passed him and the silver arakh sliced through the air towards Tobor's face. Just in time Tobor pulled his sword in front of his eyes, deflecting the blade harmlessly over his head.
This wasn't like a tourney. The dothraki was riding Tobor down instead of aiming to pass on the side as a knight would in a tourney. If Tobor was in the way he would be crushed by the flying hooves of the horse. Tobor needed the dothraki on the ground. After all, what is a horselord when he is dismounted? The dothraki walked his horse in a large circle around Tobor, eyeing him up as he paced by the boy. Tobor stared defiantly back. The horselord clearly hadn't expected this green young child to survive this long. The crowd hadn't either and the previous cheers were less frequent.
The dothraki shouted some words in his harsh language. Tobor ignored them. The dothraki wheeled his horse around to face Tobor and kicked the sides of the beast aggressively. Tobor braced himself. Remembering the words of his father. “Stop worrying Tobor, in the moment you must strike, battle fever will take over your mind, you'll feel drunk. Time will slow for you, even stop. Everything will vanish, everything but the instant. Fear will go, you won't think. You'll simply act.” The horselord galloped towards Tobor, and the hoofbeats slowed, Tobor's breath slowed and the seconds passing blurred into one another. Tobor's past and Tobor's future vanished. There was only the present. Only that moment, that instant. Tobor's fear and thoughts fled and the sweat running down his face and chest was nothing to him. Tobor laughed, and swung his sword.
A cloud of sand burst up from the ground behind Tobor, a shriek of pain came from the horse. The beast writhed on the ground screaming. One of its forelegs was a stump, spraying blood. Tobor's blow had cut through the leading leg of the horse, sending it to the ground and it’s rider flying. The dothraki stood up, shouting unintelligible words of his language. His eyes were blazing pits of black rage. The cheers of the crowd turned to hisses and outrage at the foreign boy. The dothraki strode up to his horse, cutting its throat in a motion, the gift of mercy. He pointed the bloody sword at Tobor. The boy smiled, and beckoned with his left hand. Come on, Tobor thought.
The dothraki leapt over the carcass of his mount, screaming and bells ringing. Tobor parried his blade and the sword and arakh sang together the song of steel. Tobor was giving ground, he couldn't match the strength of the fully grown man, but he could try to make the horselord tired. The dothraki tried a slash, but Tobor melted out of the way, leaving the blade to cut air. The dothraki came hard towards Tobor, covering the distance between them. Tobor scrambled back, checking the blow. Tobor dodged under a strike and leapt away. The dothraki panted after him, breathing heavily. He aimed the blade at Tobor's chest but Tobor ducked under. The dothraki swept his blade in a savage upward arc, Tobor stepped lithely to the side and countered, cutting down onto an unprotected shoulder. The dothraki turned just in time, but the blade still cut deep into the upper arm of the horselord.
The dothraki hissed in pain and clutched his wounded left arm, still holding his arakh. His blood dripped between his fingers and onto the grip of the weapon. Tobor circled him, never taking his eyes off the dothraki. The horselord took his hand away from his arm sending a fresh wave of blood to his wrist, he leapt at Tobor. The boy dodged too late and the two of them collided. Tobor hit the floor, trapping the arakh below him. The dothraki fell on top of Tobor crushing the air from him. Tobor's sword landed out of arms reach.
The dothraki freed his right arm, leaving his arakh below Tobor, and punched Tobor across the face. A hard blow that set his cheek burning. Tobor couldn't feel it much, but he was aware of the swelling immediately. Tobor grabbed the dothraki by the shoulders and slammed his fist into the wound in his arm. A yell of pain burst out of the dothraki and he rolled away from Tobor, leaving the boy to run to his sword and pick up the blade. Tobor turned and saw the dothraki holding his arakh with murder in his eyes.
He took a few shaky steps towards Tobor and swung wildly. Tobor lazily parried the blade away and with the pommel of his sword, struck the dothraki across the temple causing him to stagger back. Disorientated, the dothraki struggled to focus on his opponent, he spat a mouthful of blood to the sand. The red mixed with the gold. The dothraki stumbled towards Tobor, a clumsy slash followed. Tobor leaned out of the way, answering with a rapid two handed cut at the wrist of the dothraki. The hand still held the arakh as it hit the sand. Tobor plunged his sword into the chest of the dothraki, burying it hilt deep.
Hot sticky breath poured over Tobor's face. The breath of a dying man. Tobor ripped the sword from his chest, sending a splutter of blood to the sandy floor and over himself. The dying man fell to the floor, shuddered and lay still. Tobor looked around, unsure as to what happened now. The crowd were cheering, but they celebrated the blood leaking into the sand: not him.
Tobor looked over to the box where Reznar sat. The master was holding a cup of wine, swirling the liquid lazily. He tipped the cup back and swallowed the dregs then stood. The arena went quiet. “The victor is the Westerosi! For the next battle we will have Belaquo Bonebreaker to fight Lemano.” He announced. The door that Tobor came through swung open, a boy beckoned through the door for Tobor to come to him.
When Tobor reached the door he saw that the boy was flanked by two guards. The boy smiled, “you put your sword to me now. You can't get weapon to your bed. Just here.” He motioned to the table, which had been cleared of the selection of weapons prior to the fight. Tobor nodded his thanks and placed his sword on the table. The blood on the blade dripped onto the surface. The boy opened the second door which led down the passageway back to the cells. Tobor followed and the guards trailed behind them.
The boy was slender and taller than Tobor, he had dark skin, dark short hair and a flat, round face. The most striking feature he had were his eyes. They smouldered like molten gold. He wore simple clothes of a white tunic and light blue linen breeches. He looked at Tobor curiously, opened his mouth to speak then decided better of it and looked forwards again. Tobor noticed but continued walking. The battle fever was wearing out and Tobor's heart was beating hard in his chest. He didn't want to have a conversation. All he could think about was the sound of the sword finding it’s way into the gut of the dothraki, the feel of the blood as it sprayed over him, the surprised look in the horselord’s face as the light of the living faded away and his eyes glazed over. Suddenly Tobor felt cold, the blood of the dothraki covering him was drying and it stuck to him.
The boy interrupted Tobor's thoughts. “You are Westerosi?” He asked timidly. Tobor raised an eyebrow. “Yes, and where are you from?” He responded. The boy smiled, “I come from isle of Naath. My word is Miro.” He said proudly. Tobor shook his head, “do you mean your name is Miro?” He asked. The boy looked confused. He pointed to his face, “I. Miro.” Tobor sighed, he was in no mind to teach the common tongue. Despite his irritation, Tobor smiled at Miro. He knew the boy was only trying to be friendly but Tobor also knew that in a place like this; having friends only puts you and themselves in greater danger. Thankfully Miro appeared to understand Tobor's silence, they continued to walk without speaking.
Miro led Tobor to a cold room with stone walls and asked him to remove his clothes, in his hand he held a bucket of water and a cloth. “It is for wash, you must not have blood. The Great Master does not please that.” Miro explained. Tobor swore under his breath, Reznar did everything in his power to humiliate and belittle his slaves, until they thought of themselves as little more than animals. Very well, Tobor would play by his rules, but he wouldn't let Reznar win. Tobor dropped his boots, small clothes and breeches in a pile. “Your boots go to room, the others is clean and you have new pair now.” Miro informed him. Tobor nodded and Miro began scrubbing at his back, chest, arms and legs with the cloth.
Red water pooled at his feet. The floor was slanted so the water ran to the far wall where it flowed through a hole, presumably directly into the Skahazadan river. When the blood was cleaned from Tobor's body, Miro passed him the new pair of small clothes and breeches and Tobor pulled them on then followed Miro out of the room.
“How in Westeros do you come from?” Miro asked. “Near the Wall?” Tobor shook his head. “I'm from the south. A place called Oldtown.” Miro looked blankly at him. “I don't know it.” Tobor shrugged, “it doesn't matter. You said you were from Naath, what's it like there?” Miro’s golden eyes lit up. “The butterfly isle, it is a beautiful place. I love it much. My people make music much, singing, dancing. When I am young, I live in hills but I go to sea and play. The water is warm.” Miro looked happy talking about his home island. Continuing walking along the passageway lined with metal torches, Miro told Tobor more of his island, about the butterflies, silk and spiced wine
“I tell my friend one day, I go to sea. And when I am there I go with friend and we play. But a boat swims to us and we take by men. They bring to here and I am traded. My friend somewhere other.” Miro’s eyes filled with pain. “Tazhyn help me, and she kind with me. She tell me to not disobey the Great Master or I will not live. So I do not disobey the Great Master. She teach me Low Valyrian as well, I do not speak common tongue as well.”
Tobor began to reply but was cut short by a great hulking figure stepping from a cell in front of them. Tobor tried to move out of its way but collided with Miro who fell, sprawling onto the cold ground. The figure and Tobor hit each other and Tobor stumbled back, regaining his footing. The figure was angry, “little man! You are in my way. You don't go back to where you came from by the time I count to three I'll be eating you and I'll wash it down with a cup of your blood.” The figure was a gargantuan, towering fat man, dressed in a loincloth that went down to his knees and nothing else. Tattoos covered his powerful shoulders and shaven head. A bushy beard covered his chin.
Miro got back to his feet and stepped forward to talk to the huge man. Before getting a word out, the man grabbed the boy by his waist and threw him across the passageway leaving him on the floor. He turned to Tobor and roared, “I need my food! I won my fight so I eat now! The Master says, when I win my fight I eat!” He swung a great meaty paw at Tobor's head but the boy evaded it by ducking under. Miro protested weakly, “Don't fight, we don't fight.” The noise from the conflict was echoing through the passageway and out of another cell walked a tall, slender man.
He had pale skin and a crest of dark red hair running from his brow to the nape of his neck. Dead grey eyes stared out from his scarred face. “What's going on here?” He hissed. The man turned to the noise, “Khrazz! This little man is going to die, then I eat him!” He growled. Khrazz looked to Tobor, “very well, kill him.” He leant against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. The huge man lumbered towards Tobor, arms outstretched. Tobor ducked under his arms, darting behind him and punching his back. It was unlikely that the man even felt it. He whirled around, quick for a man of his size and swung at Tobor again. The strike caught Tobor on the arm, a spike of pain shooting up his shoulder.
Tobor needed to end this, or he'd be feeding this Goliath. He looked around for a weapon, his fists wouldn't do. All he could see that could work was the metal torches hanging on the wall. Tobor jumped towards it, dragging it from it’s holder. The flame hissed and spat. The huge man grinned, “I like cooked meat!” Tobor held the torch towards the advancing man, it was heavy but Tobor could handle it. The man reached out and Tobor jabbed with the torch, the flames licking at the fingers of the man. He howled and clasped his burnt fingers. “There's some cooked meat for you, why don't you eat them?” Tobor mocked.
The man scrunched up his face in fury, he grabbed at the torch again but Tobor pulled the torch back out of reach, leaving the man off balance. Tobor drew the torch back high over his shoulder and with a sweeping, flaming arc, brought it down on the skull of the man. A dull thud sounded in the passage, flames spat and embers flew. The man fell to his knees, more confused than hurt. Khrazz watched unamused. The man put a hand to his head and looked up at Tobor. “Little man has some fight, make it better when I eat you!” He started to get to his feet to grab Tobor but the boy brought the torch down on the man's head once more. He fell backwards with a bemused expression.
He tried to sit up but failed, holding a hand to his tattooed skull he brought it away showing blood. Tobor held the torch prone to strike should the man attack again. To Tobor's surprise he began to laugh, a deep loud booming sound that reverberated in the passage. “I like you, you've got balls. Most little men like you cry and weep to me not to eat them. I won't eat you today little man.” The man struggled to his feet, Tobor held the torch ready to strike again.
“Don't worry little man, I won't eat you. Put the torch down.” The man said. Tobor didn't know what to make of it, the sudden change of heart made no sense. Should he hold on to the torch for defence or trust this attacker? Tobor looked at the man, his eyes were locked onto his own. Tobor supposed he could just hit him again to be sure. The man reached out a hand.
[Hand him the Torch] [Hold onto the Torch] [Hit him again]
[Hold onto the torch]
I must admit this part was great of all.Tobor is more talented that I thought.
And yes that monster isnt believable to me so without hitting him(That might anger him)just hold the torch on hand✊ any cunning approach may come
[Hand him the Torch] I think tobor earned his respect and I believe the guy. If not there is propebly another torch. Depending on how long he wil be there ( I kind of expect a timeskip) he is going to become a beast of a fighter.
Tobor is a skilled fighter, he practiced fighting from a young age thanks to his brother Mace. The only thing is he is just young so obviously not as strong as he could be. That being said, he is actually around the same age as Jon and Robb in the book!
Yes hitting him might anger him, but also holding onto the torch could anger him too! He's quite an unpredictable guy, just walking into him made him angry!
Well it is true that there are other torches, but if Tobor hands over the torch he wouldn't have time to grab another one so it's a big risk!
Yeah but fighting a Dotharki horselord is bit too hard
And Hitting that guy with torch is a option a dont like.His intention may be good so without hitting that guy just hold the torch for defence and the rest is upto that guy
Fair enough! Dothraki are brilliant fighters
tobor is gonna manage
[Hold onto the Torch] I can't say I trust the sudden change of heart but let's not attack. If he's being genuine than he won't attack. If he's lying Tobor has the means to defend himself.
Indeed
[Hand him the Torch]
[Hold onto the Torch]
So... Tazhyn kept her word, is that correct? I just don't know, but I'd say that counts
She promised Tobor to try and not have him fighting against some beast and technically, that's what happened and I would really like to believe she had a hand in this. I mean, sure, there was a horse involved, but I don't count that as a beast and I guess neither does Tobor. Or maybe he does? Anyways, it might have been a coincidence, so that is not enough to win my trust, but it is definitely not a step in the wrong direction. Though if she truly helped him out here, that makes me only further curious what her intentions are, what she actually seeks to accomplish by helping her father's slave. Intriguing, I'd say and a source of much speculation. All signs point towards her being genuine in her intentions, but that really makes me wonder why she is so nice to him, same goes for her mentioned interaction with Miro.
[Hold onto the Torch]
I do not believe that guy. Trust issues can't always be a bad thing, one day I will distrust the right person and instinctively choose the better choice as a result. And let's be honest here, some freaking cannibal brute is by far the least trustworthy person Tobor has met so far and this includes every slaver, pirate and anything inbetween. Might be that this guy is genuine. But well, even if, I think holding onto the torch is a smart move, because it is a brave move. He voiced respect for Tobor because of his bravery, so I guess he won't be too impressed if he submits now.
We don't know what Tazhyn did or didn't say to her father yet, I suppose we'll have to find out
Tobor doesn't know what to think about whether Tazhyn helped him in the end or not, he wants to believe she's doing the right thing but it's so difficult to trust people.
I would trust this guy way before I would trust Reznar! But yes I see your point, it's not a bad choice at all. I like your reasoning behind it, I hadnt thought of it that way
Hey, I just wanted to let you know that I sent you another pm.
Sorry an unnecessary post
accidently
Voting is Closed!
Tobor will [Hold onto the Torch]
This was quite a tough choice really, it all rests on what sort of man that huge beast is! As I said before, I'm away at the moment so my writing speed has slowed down. I'm back in a few days though! The next part will come out in the next week I hope. Looking forward to it!
Hot Sand and Warm Blood
Part 3
Tobor took a step back, his hands remaining firmly locked around the torch. Something glinted in the man's eyes. Was it fury, or admiration? Tobor wasn't sure. Blindingly fast, the man grabbed hold of the torch and pulled hard. Tobor's arms felt like they would rip from his shoulders. He stumbled forward and let go. The man held the torch between his huge arms and with a grunt, smashed the torch against the stone wall. The flaming end of the torch sparked and the metal crumpled. The torch hit the floor with a clatter as the man dropped it. “I said put it down little man.” He growled.
“What is going on?” Came an angry voice from a cell down the passage. Khrazz snapped his head round to look at the noise, a look of fear entering his dead eyes. Miro whimpered and ran. From the cell door walked a woman. She was slim, but powerful. Her dark eyes glistened with anger and her dark-skinned face was twisted in a snarl. Her face was scarred several times, most notably one through her right eyebrow, another on her forehead and one terrifying scar across her throat. It was a wonder it hadn't killed her.
“It wasn't me, I swear it.” Khrazz protested. The women gave him a look that would freeze fire. “Fuck off Khrazz or I'll cut off your cock.” She hissed. “Tell me, what did you do to piss him off? Why shouldn't I let him eat you?” She said to Tobor. The boy looked into the women's dark eyes, there was pain there. And anger. “I did nothing, he walked out of his cell into me, then blamed it on me. Maybe he's been hit on the head one too many times but I did nothing.” She looked at the huge man. He shook his head, “It doesn't matter now little man, you have strength of ten of your size. I won't eat you because you have proved a match for me.”
Khrazz snorted, “all he did was hit you with…” The women sprang like a cat at a mouse. She darted towards Khrazz and using her fists, beat him to the ground with a savage ferocity. “I said fuck off Khrazz, or didn't you hear me?” She kicked him in the gut, Khrazz gasped for air. Tobor was on edge; what sort of people were these? He asked himself. The answer came instantly. Pit fighters. Blood is all they know. Will I become like this?
Khrazz pushed himself to his knees, he spat out several teeth, they rattled on the floor. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The women put her foot on his chest and pushed back gently, so Khrazz was leant against the wall. “Now do you want to shut the fuck up or do I have to show you how much of a bitch you are again? I should have your cock, I'm more of a man than you'll ever be.” Khrazz looked up defiantly and with hatred. He opened his mouth to speak but then the defiance fled from his eyes and he looked at the ground. The women pushed hard against the wall with her foot and Khrazz moaned in pain. “Now fuck off and leave before I decide against it.” She said. Khrazz got to his feet with difficulty, then trudged away to his cell.
The women turned to Tobor, “Who are you? One who has made this beast respect you?” Tobor drew himself up with all the pride he could muster. “Tobor of the House Hightower, from Westeros.” The women scoffed, “Westerosi prick, I don't care what house you are.” Tobor narrowed his eyes, “Then who are you?” He challenged. The women scowled at him, “I am someone that you should respect unless you want your life in here to be shorter than it would be otherwise.” She spoke with a strong accent that Tobor couldn’t place. Perhaps the summer isles?
“In here, you must follow the chain of command or you die. Yet even if you follow the chain of command you will probably still die. You have the Masters then guards, and then me. I am a slave, a pit fighter. I am low, but look at you, a little highborn prick in a pit fighter world you're even lower than me. You wouldn’t last one fight.” She said scornfully. Tobor laughed, “well I think that’s where you’re wrong. I’ve just got out of the pit, leaving behind a dothraki with my sword in his chest. I took on this big cunt and look at the one who’s bleeding, I’ll give you a hint it’s not me. I can handle myself” He said. The giant looked at Tobor, “We don’t know who you are until we see you bleed, little man.”
The woman stared at Tobor, “Is it true you have won a victory?” Tobor nodded. “Then you have started on the path of survival. It is a difficult path and one you must tread lightly. No man is your friend, no woman. In here there are no sides, only those who try to kill you and those who don’t. In here you meet people and you must either love or destroy them. For if you leave them with some minor damage, they’ll return stronger and hunting for revenge. But if you finish them, leave them cold and lifeless, what can they do? You must destroy them so you don’t fear their vengeance.” She said bitterly.
Tobor looked at her bemused. This woman had seen real pain and betrayal to think this way. He wondered what had happened. The woman looked at Tobor, “You might have won a fight, but don’t think it means anything. The only thing you find here is death and blood. I do not think you will last long here and I do not respect you, even if he does.” She pointed to the big man. “While you try to show me that you are worth my time, stay out my fucking way or you’ll think what I did to Khrazz was a blessing.”
“And if you aren’t impressed by me?” Tobor asked. The woman shrugged, “Then Se Dyni gets his food.” Tobor raised an eyebrow. “Se Dyni? Is that High Valyrian?” The woman laughed, “Fucking Westerosi.” She turned to walk away, “Come.” She said to Se Dyni. The big man followed. Tobor stood and watched them walk. Once they had entered their cells Tobor continued towards his own, it wasn’t far.
He still wasn’t quite sure what was happening, the woman was clearly in charge, or held some amount of power. Why were Khrazz and Miro so scared of her? He’d only fought the Dothraki that morning but it felt like weeks ago.
He was nearing his cell when he heard voices around the corner. He was surprised to hear Tazhyn talking with her father, “Of course my dear, you may continue healing the slaves, we will want you to be a skilled healer. You do still wish to have the honour of the Blue Graces?” he asked her. Tazhyn replied that she did. “I only have one issue with this, my sweet.” He continued. “The Westerosi slave boy and Belaquo. You must stay away from them. They are both savages and they are a danger to you.” He said sharply. Tazhyn protested, “But father, Tobor has been forced into this, he isn’t savage!” Tobor couldn’t see anything but he heard a small slap, Reznar had hit her. “Enough, you are my daughter and you will respect my commands.” He took a breath. “My apologies child, that was ill-done. You must understand, it is only my wish that you be safe. You and Mezzara are the two most precious things I own in this world, my sun and moon. Come, it is the time for eating and happiness, not these dull arguments. We must celebrate the victory in the pit today.” Tobor heard footsteps, he peeked around the corner. There was nobody there. Tobor found his way to his cell, he lay down and slept.
Over the passing weeks, Tobor found that pit fighters didn’t do much while they weren’t fighting. His day consisted of being woken by guards, then being told to clean something in the cell area, then perhaps some menial task that seemed designed to just keep him busy. Tobor assumed it was to keep firstly pit fighters in general away from Reznar and his family but also to keep Tobor away from Tazhyn.
Miro visited fairly often, he came to talk to Tobor and question him about Westeros: What is the Wall like? Are you a knight? Have you ever seen a dragon? Tobor humored him because he had nothing else to do and Miro seemed nice. Tobor admitted to himself it was interesting to have someone to talk to.
Tazhyn didn’t visit again in those weeks, Tobor felt mildly annoyed. Did she think he was some animal to be visited when she felt inclined to? He remembered what she had said about her father, she must respect him. But even so, if she cared then she would be there wouldn’t she? Tobor hated feeling so confused about it, was she genuine or not.
Tobor fought again twice, he had a fight against a Meereenese boy no older than himself armed with a spear. The boy was shaking so much that the spear was useless in his hands. Tobor killed the boy in minutes. Guilt weighed heavy that night. Dodging the clumsy lunges of the boy, then slashing across his throat, opening his neck in a red smile. Tobor tried to make it as quick as possible.
The other fight was a different matter, he had to face a Braavosi water dancer. Tobor’s good fortune meant the Braavosi was armed with a heavier sword than he was used to but was still a formidable enemy with it. His blinding speed and agility meant Tobor never knew where the attack was coming from. Tobor was cut time and time again by the razor edge of the sword, on his arms, legs and one strike across the chest. By some stroke of luck or intervention from gods, Tobor found the strength to cut across, laying his blade into the hilt of the Braavosi’s sword. Tobor’s sword sheared through the water dancer’s fingers and the Braavosi yelled in pain. Tobor reacted quickly, ending the pain with a blow to his neck. Half beheading him, leaving his body to fall beside his fingers.
When he wasn’t fighting, Tobor kept to himself as much as possible. The memory of what happened with Bradon was still fresh in his mind. Somedays when he wasn’t fighting and no guards commanded him to do anything he would just stand and talk to the guard outside his cell. The guard was usually incredibly bored as a result of his dull, dutiful task, so he would relish talking to Tobor. He spoke the common tongue well, and would tell Tobor of his parents and family, his life. Occasionally he would ask Tobor about his and Tobor would respond.
Sometimes when the guard talked he would talk about what was happening in Westeros. When Tobor had left Westeros, Ned Stark had been executed and the continent was in turmoil, according to the guard; Robb Stark was marching south and declared King in the North, while the late King Robert’s two brothers had both claimed the throne. The guard remarked that Westerosis were far too worried about who sat on that sword-chair.
Tobor was interested by this, the King in the North. There hadn’t been a northern king since Torrhen Stark knelt to Aegon the Conqueror. The Young Wolf, they were calling him. Tobor wondered if the history books would remember this King in the North better than the King that Knelt. Tobor had met Renly Baratheon several times at court when he squired for Ser Barristan. Tobor had heard rumours and jokes that Ser Loras Tyrell had been stabbing Renly with a sword many times. Tobor hadn’t ever understood the joke since how could Loras be stabbing Renly without him getting wounded.
Renly seemed like a pleasant man, although not fit to be a king in Tobor’s opinion. Tobor didn’t know what you needed to be a good king but he just had an instinct that Renly wouldn’t be suitable. On one occasion; Renly had asked Tobor and two of his other squires to help squire for him in a tourney. Tobor, Corlys and Osford hadn’t talked much before but had all reveled in the opportunity because with so many squires, Ser Barristan hadn’t often been able to let each boy squire.
Tobor smiled while remembering that day, Corlys had been asked to help Renly train for the melee and with blunted practice swords they began hacking at each other with a flurry of blows. Tobor and Osford watched. Somehow, Corlys always knew where Renly would strike and would block it or dodge with ease. Corlys stepped aside to evade a strike and Renly tripped and fell into the mud, his fantastic green and gold cloak was covered in dirt so he couldn’t wear it. Tobor said that the Baratheon should wear his grey Hightower cloak just inside out so the sigil wasn’t visible. Renly laughed and thanked him but denied, he fought and jousted cloakless that day, all thanks to Corlys’ skill.
It was the same in the practice yard when Tobor and Corlys fought, he would sense exactly where Tobor would swing and would beat him with ease. Corlys would never let Tobor forget it when he would knock the Hightower boy into the dust. Tobor got his own back when the two of them along with Osford stole a flagon of wine from the kitchens and drank until dawn when their heads were spinning and Cor was vomiting. As Corlys was unconscious Tobor and Osford dragged him into the stables where the stable girl he had admitted to liking worked. They covered him in horse dung and waited for morning when the stable girl came in and found a drunken squire covered in shit professing his undying love for her.
Unsurprisingly the girl didn’t take it too well and hit him with a broom until Corlys stumbled away. With a pounding head ache Cor tried to hit Tobor but the Hightower boy dodged and Corlys fell over laughing. The friendship between Os, Tobor and Cor grew fast and strong ever since that day.
The guard shook Tobor out of his reverie, “Did you hear me? I said dragons!” he said exasperatedly. Tobor looked confused, “What about dragons?” he asked. The guard rolled his eyes, “I heard tell from my friend that he heard a sailor come from Qarth talk about dragons! Some blonde woman had some.” He said excitedly. Tobor sniggered, “There aren’t any dragons, they all died out hundreds of years ago. Did you hear about any Grumpkins or Snarks?” he joked. The guard looked annoyed, “Fuck off, they’ll be dragons flying the skies one day and you’ll wish you believed me!”
“I’m sorry that wasn’t good of me, I apologise.” Tobor said. The guard grunted, “Yes, well, I need to leave, I have other duties.” He sidled away. Tobor sat on his bed. As the guard walked around the corner, Miro came into view and waved to Tobor who returned the gesture. Miro walked to the bars and greeted Tobor. Miro’s grasp of the common tongue was improving every day, the constant talking to Tobor was helping. “Miro, it’s good to see you, what questions about Westeros can I answer today?” Miro laughed, “Don’t worry Tobor, I do not want to know more at the moment. I wanted to tell you something.” He said.
“Of course, go ahead.” Tobor said amicably. Miro glanced around as if scared of someone, “Well I was serving the Great Master his meal and this friend of yours comes in and they talk in common tongue, which they do not understand that I know it as well.” Tobor interrupted, “When you say my friend, do you mean Bradon?” Miro nodded. “Bradon and the Great Master were talking and I do not hear much because I am in different room, but I hear the Master say ‘do not fail me and you will have your freedom.’ I do not understand it, so I come to you to say you.” Miro seemed anxious. Tobor thought about this, what could Bradon be doing for the Master that would secure his freedom? Perhaps Reznar was lying, or maybe he wasn’t and Bradon could go free. Tobor had to talk to Bradon, but if he let slip that Miro had overheard them then Miro would be punished for eavesdropping. Could he risk it and just ask Bradon outright what he was doing? And in any case, Bradon and Tobor weren’t exactly on speaking terms.
Tobor looked at Miro, “Where is Bradon now?” he asked. Miro looked thoughtful, “He should be preparing weapons for the next fight in the arena. I think it’s Se Dyni and a Myrish man. I can take you if you want, I will say we have been told to wash the weapons after the fight.”
Tobor smiled, “Thank you Miro that would be perfect, you’ve done well.” He praised. Miro grinned, “Like a Westerosi knight!” Tobor laughed, “Yes, like a knight.”
Miro left, explaining he would find a guard and explain they needed the keys to carry out their duties. He returned quickly and Tobor was released from the cell. The two of them walked down the passageway towards the pit.
As they walked Miro asked more questions about Westeros, mainly about Knights. Why did someone get knighted? Because of an act of bravery or skill. Have you ever met a knight? Tobor replied he squired to the greatest knight who ever lived. Who is it? What’s a squire? The questions went on and on, but Tobor didn’t mind. Talking about home was all he had at this time.
They reached the door to the weapons room and it was slightly ajar, Bradon would be inside there. Tobor would have maybe ten minutes before Se Dyni or the Myrish man turned up for their weapons and fight. First, he had to decide how to talk to him, Tobor wasn’t sure whether he should make it clear he was only here to talk about what he had heard, or if he should be cunning and apologise about his hand then mention what he had heard.
[Be Cunning] [Be Truthful]
Not to mention, whether he should keep Miro’s involvement secret. Tobor could lie about how he heard it but that would be difficult to handle and Bradon wouldn’t tell Tobor anything if he knew Tobor was lying, on the other hand, admitting how he heard about it could make Miro’s life difficult and Tobor felt like he owed the boy a certain amount of loyalty. What is the honourable thing to do when one is lying and the other is disloyal?
[Lie about Miro] [Admit it was Miro]