Post by gabe on Aug 28, 2010 18:17:10 GMT -8
Baern woke up in the middle of the desert. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know who his attackers were, or why they attacked his caravan. He DID know that they had taken his weapons and armor. That three of his captors were holding him and the surviving members of his caravan prisoner. That there was a raging sandstorm in front of him. And worst of all, that his captors were throwing prisoners into the sandstorm.
Things were looking grim indeed.
But Baern was not a stranger to life threatening situations…
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In a past life, he was known as Harbek. He was a Urikian military slave. While being a military slave was certainly not an easy life, in Harbek’s eyes, it was not the worse life one could get. That was until an old acquaintance of his decided to cause some uproar.
News of Borthomar’s escape was heard by everyone throughout Urik. Harbek had heard several versions escape, in one, Bortho defeated 20 templars to get through the Obsidian gate, in another, Bortho punched a huge hole in the gate, and of course, the most comical, was that a thi-kreen on the back of a giant toad helped Bortho escape.
Whatever happened, the undeniable fact is that he did manage to escape. This made the slave drivers of Urik crack down. They became more oppressive, gave fewer meals, and demanded more work, anything to reinforce the idea that they were the masters. Harbek was now sure he wanted to get out of Urik. Somewhere where there were no slaves. He wanted to go to Tyr.
He got his opportunity when his squad was sent as an expeditionary force into the Dragon’s Bowl. Rumor among the squad was that they were actually supposed to be looking for any signs of Lost Samarthia, but none of them could ever really be sure of that, the official orders were to explore the Dragon’s Bowl and report back with the findings.
The squad never got that far. They were attacked when they were barely into the Dragon’s Bowl. Harbek was knocked out by something instantly, and when he woke up, himself heavily injured, and the rest of his squad dead. Oddly enough, the crodlu’s that his squad rode were untouched. He wasn’t sure if he was just lucky, or if whatever attacked his squad decided to leave him alive, but either way, Harbek didn’t want to stick around and find out. He grabbed what rations he could, did a whatever meager job he could of trying to patch himself up, grabbed a crodlu, and rode to Tyr.
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But that was all in the past. His name was Baern now. The Urikite brand on his left shoulder was now covered by a piece of white cloth tied around it. And he had a new challenge before him.
He considered his options. Maybe, even unarmed, he could defeat his three captors with the help of the remaining prisoners. But he looked around. There were only three left now. One of them, the one known as Cadoc, looked capable of handling himself in a fight, but the other two…Baern could tell that they were just part of the caravan that he was supposed to protect. Unfortunately, he had no other choice…he had to try, or it was certain doom for him.
At that moment a thi-kreen, seemingly out of nowhere, landed behind the captors, and easily dispatched the three of them. Unguarded, Baern made his way to where they had kept his equipment. Hammer in hand; he got his revenge on those who had sought to throw him in the sandstorm.
Looking around at those who had saved him and those still alive, he thought about what to do next…
Things were looking grim indeed.
But Baern was not a stranger to life threatening situations…
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In a past life, he was known as Harbek. He was a Urikian military slave. While being a military slave was certainly not an easy life, in Harbek’s eyes, it was not the worse life one could get. That was until an old acquaintance of his decided to cause some uproar.
News of Borthomar’s escape was heard by everyone throughout Urik. Harbek had heard several versions escape, in one, Bortho defeated 20 templars to get through the Obsidian gate, in another, Bortho punched a huge hole in the gate, and of course, the most comical, was that a thi-kreen on the back of a giant toad helped Bortho escape.
Whatever happened, the undeniable fact is that he did manage to escape. This made the slave drivers of Urik crack down. They became more oppressive, gave fewer meals, and demanded more work, anything to reinforce the idea that they were the masters. Harbek was now sure he wanted to get out of Urik. Somewhere where there were no slaves. He wanted to go to Tyr.
He got his opportunity when his squad was sent as an expeditionary force into the Dragon’s Bowl. Rumor among the squad was that they were actually supposed to be looking for any signs of Lost Samarthia, but none of them could ever really be sure of that, the official orders were to explore the Dragon’s Bowl and report back with the findings.
The squad never got that far. They were attacked when they were barely into the Dragon’s Bowl. Harbek was knocked out by something instantly, and when he woke up, himself heavily injured, and the rest of his squad dead. Oddly enough, the crodlu’s that his squad rode were untouched. He wasn’t sure if he was just lucky, or if whatever attacked his squad decided to leave him alive, but either way, Harbek didn’t want to stick around and find out. He grabbed what rations he could, did a whatever meager job he could of trying to patch himself up, grabbed a crodlu, and rode to Tyr.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
But that was all in the past. His name was Baern now. The Urikite brand on his left shoulder was now covered by a piece of white cloth tied around it. And he had a new challenge before him.
He considered his options. Maybe, even unarmed, he could defeat his three captors with the help of the remaining prisoners. But he looked around. There were only three left now. One of them, the one known as Cadoc, looked capable of handling himself in a fight, but the other two…Baern could tell that they were just part of the caravan that he was supposed to protect. Unfortunately, he had no other choice…he had to try, or it was certain doom for him.
At that moment a thi-kreen, seemingly out of nowhere, landed behind the captors, and easily dispatched the three of them. Unguarded, Baern made his way to where they had kept his equipment. Hammer in hand; he got his revenge on those who had sought to throw him in the sandstorm.
Looking around at those who had saved him and those still alive, he thought about what to do next…