[Shak-Fu]

Tyrseus watched as the girl walked away after they finished bathing him and cleaning off all the blood and sand from his fur. The dimly lit chamber was not small, but it felt stifling for one his size. He paced around in thought as he kept thinking about what she had said - "I don't really have any friends, and you're the only one that doesn't beat me an inch from my life and tells the guards to leave me alone" – and he furrowed his brows in anger. To beat such a delicate being in such a manner, with no regard for her life just merely because she is your property… He slammed a calloused fist into the stone wall and cursed the Gods for allowing such acts. Even back in his homeworld, there were slaves but he had worked to free those like him, rally them to his cause to overthrow the Gods that created them, and would also see them destroyed for their petty conflicts and power struggles.

He closed his eyes for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. The men and women of the Ludus were also objects of the Lanista’s whims and many looked up to him as a leader of sorts. He had pulled them all out of tough situations many times against opposing fighters, and some owed their lives to him. He would not see the men and women he fought so hard to protect die for sport and the rich’s entertainment. How though… He looked at his surroundings and mapped the structure in his mind. There were three levels to this place. The dungeons where the political prisoners were housed were at the very bottom level in the darkest bowels of the structure. The mid-level housed criminals and those that got on the wrong side of some drunken guard high on power and with the authority to back it up. Nobles, bards, the tavern wench that slit the throat in defense from the drunken man that tried to take her by force, and a slew of other beings ranging from human to every other race that might have crossed the wrong path. The top-level was reserved for the fighters of the House, as well as visiting Ludus combatants. Some chambers even housed nonfighters or slaves such as those that held functions in the house like servants, attendants, librarians, and some guards.

He heard a soft rasping on the bars of the door, and he turned from his thoughts to look at the woman standing there with a sly grin on her face. “So, they haven’t brought you down yet? What is it going to take to bring you down to your knees and accept the fact that you cannot keep this up forever?” He looked to her for a moment as a chord struck deep within him and without so much as a second thought he snapped “Nobody is meant to be enslaved, kept in cages, and left to die for the pleasure of others. The day will come where those in chains will free themselves from their masters, and the lands will no longer weep for sons and daughters lost for wars that are not theirs, and nobles that don’t give a shit about them.” She leaned on the door looking in through the bars at him almost as if assessing his resolve and decided to find out if he was posturing or truly felt that way. “So, what are you going to do about it then my large horned friend? You are in a cell, locked up, and nowhere to run. What hopes do you have of succeeding in such an act?” He looked at her for a moment as he paced, the heavy hooves making a solid thumping sound with every step muffled by the dirt under them. He knew how he would do this but why would he tell this woman that could merely be some spy for the Lanista’s or worse the merchants that traded their slaves fighting skills for crowd cheers and favor. “What is it to you girl. You are not one of us nor do you fight with us. What is your angle?” She laughed lightly yet he could detect a certain tone in her words that did not sound like one that was kidding. “What if I told you -she paused briefly as she looked around her to make sure there was nobody in earshot that could pick up on their conversation and checked both ends of the corridor- that I could help you make that a reality and all I ask is that you free all the wrongfully imprisoned whether they choose to fight for your cause or not. For years I have been doing this alone and it feels like the more that no matter how many I set free there are still so many more in need of help. I want this to end once and for all.” She turned away for a moment looking into the dancing flames on the torch on a near post. “You and I are not so different. I managed to escape the grasp of my owners and have been trying to free as many as I can but…” she exhaled heavily as she looked back to him and held out a book. The bindings were worn but it was firmly wrapped with a leather cord and she slid it through the bars on the door.
“It takes but the will of one to rally the souls of those willing to fight for the freedom of others, and the resolve to see it through the end no matter the cost. Will you go down in history as just a fighter? Or are you cut from the same fabric that gallant kings and warriors from the history books were molded from that liberated nations from a rule that did not serve the people?” she recited. He looked at her in silence weighing her words as he took the book from her hand and tossed it on the bed behind him. The crimson eyes stared at her as she turned and began to roll the wooden cart. “You’ll like that book Tyrseus. It is the story of a man that rose from nothing to one day rule a nation. I have no idea if you’re any such man, but we can all dream, right?” She laughed light-heartedly as she walked off with her empty cart.

What the fuck did she know about him? Words are nothing without action… He looked at the book on his bed and sat down looking it over. The leather cord seemed quite out of place and way too long to just merely wrap a book for the sake of keeping it together. He eased himself into the large wooden chair in one corner nearest to the sky light and unwrapped the book. He thumbed through the pages that had a bunch of gibberish that had nothing to do with the story. Then he came across the page with the phrase she just quoted. There was something carved out of the rest of the pages like a hole and something wrapped in a piece of paper. He took the bundled item and unwrapped it revealing a metal key, and on the note, there was something scribbled on “What will you do?”. He quickly tucked the key away and pressed against the door looking left and right to see if there was anyone watching his door and if this was a setup. He couldn’t see or hear anyone so he pulled out the key and very carefully as to not make any noise, he inserted the key inch by inch until he reached the end of the cylinder and turned it very slowly until he felt some pressure and then a click. The door cracked open ever so slightly from being unlocked. Quickly he locked it and shoved the key into the sash at his waist. The time was at hand. Would he free the ones locked up with him and champion them, or would he die of old age or from a mortal wound in the pits…? The sorrowful howl of a wolf could be heard in the distance and feeling a surge of determination let out a roar that echoed in the halls as he moved toward the other corner of the room and stood near his armor running his giant clawed hand over it. “There time is coming to fight for what is right.”