eric cruz's page

About eric cruz

All his life, all he has known was slavery. That with fleeting moments of a life more a dream from long, long ago.

His life is a memory of hard work, mostly being a pack mule as he walked in the desert a tool for the Nomads that killed his parents and took him as a prize. In addition to being a pack animal, he was made to fight for entertainment. Since his odd colored skin, he was put to fight older, larger children. It was the beatings in the fights, and the whippings that left him with scrs over his entire body.

It took 10 years till another Nomad tribe, the Black Raiders of the Desert that swooped down and attacked the caravan. Of the many dead, many were captured. It was when a raider came to him that the fear came to a head, flashbacks of his childhood when he witnessed his parents killed led him to fight with pure emotion. He broke the Raider's jaw, before being knocked out. He was still only 13 or so, the Raider a seasoned warrior. Luckily, the warrior knew talent when he saw it, and deemed the Little Iron Fist worth accepting into his clan, should he pass the tests.

For the next few years, it took him time to get used to being free, but having responsibilities. He slowly, though the mentoring of one of the Raiders. It was quickly shown he was more apt to hunt and with little guidance, he was taught to harness his inner anger and channel it in a more useful and productive way.

He soon was sent to test his manhood and become one of the Tribe. There was another caravan of slavers heading across the desert and he was to join in his first battle.

While his tribe-mates rode on camels and ponys, he ran, charging at the guards. Just like the guards that beat him, whipped him when he was too slow. The same guards that would beat him after he was beaten into unconsciousness in the fights when they lost their bets on him. He called on all the rage into this one moment and in the white light, his falcion swong with purpose.

(c0nt)