The Roleplaying Diaries of Bryan Stephens
Towering large Garundi man.
Names can be an iffy thing in Geb. A person can be born in the Meat Market from a slave brood mare bred with competent pit fighters for fine food stock. A person from there doesn’t have a name, just a tattooed series of inventory numbers, to be warehoused until expiration, use or purchase. Weaker stock got stuffed into smaller cages to be fattened into delicacies, the sturdier ones get placed in general pens for those that prefer their meals more fit. Sometimes one of these dregs get lucky and gets noticed by someone other than the hungry or the degenerate.
The dwarf was impressed how well “this one” was able to fight over scraps to survive and decided to take him to his training stable. There he learned how to hurt and heal in equal measure. Here he also earned new names. One to keep to himself, another bestowed by his trainer. His old name, he burned off, destroying all arcane links to that past. Time crept ever forward, even in ossified Geb. A life in the arenas can be good for the living, as long as you keep winning. Many don’t last that long. Getting farmed out for security jobs for the various Factions usually improved your chances in reaching middle age.
Tsekani appeared human enough and his prowess impressive enough for a caravan leader of the Export Guild and again his future was changed. Travel outside of Geb required other skills, like being at least pleasant around others. Of course, there were fights on the road but usually only the desperate or animals would attack them. Most knew the grain caravans came from Geb and kept a wide berth from the merchants and their entourage. Often the small towns and other merchant trains would treat them with cool hospitality. That was at least understandable. Stopping at the big towns might as well have been visits to another plane.
Tsekani hated those visits the most. Many in the caravan would go wild with the carousing once the work was done, indulging in all the pleasures life had to offer. What the former resident of the meat market saw of the outside world was how little outsiders appreciated all they had. Their freedom of movement, of speech, of association, of equality. They will never know what living in fear that your next door neighbor will decide to eat you today or come and take your essence in the night. They can wait patiently for the person above them to step down or just pass away instead of having no choice but plotting their Final Deaths. Yes, fending off outsider attacks was more pleasure than business. This enthusiasm allowed Tsekani to stay on with the Guild for a few routes and make a good name for himself. Now he’s back in Greydirge in between trips, just in time to get a summons to Lady Haldoli’s Estate.
|Dwarf||Buyer||Indifferent||Person who bought him from Meat Market|