A dark skinned Bedouin gladiator swears allegiance to Emir Zagathoth as soon as he is freed...
In Arabic: I am forever in your debt, mighty Lord Zagathoth! Allah be praised!
He celebrates his liberty with a martial dance, brandishing scimitar and kukri...
A French Templar Knight (the order having gone underground after its persecution) is among the prisoners freed that day. He falls on his knees in prayer, longsword drawn point down, and gives praise and thanks to Jesus for his salvation and liberation...
And lo, the prisoner leaps to lose his chains!
Another freed gladiator swears allegiance to Lord Zagathoth!
Allah is great! I am FREE!! FREE AT LAST!! THANK THE GOD OF THE HEAVENS, I AM FREE!! HAIL TO LORD ZAGATHOTH! LONG MAY HE LIVE, AND LONG MAY HIS LINE BE!!
In one of the cells is another visitor from the First World, an errant eldritch knight of Elfhill Silverelm, Alanandir the Outlander...
In English: I am most grateful for your service in freeing me from this rakshasa tyrant, My Lords and Ladies! Many fey blessings upon thee for thine aid!
The last gladiator freed is a Spaniard named Troy of Aragon. He kneels before his liberators and kisses their hands...
In English: I owe my life to you, brave heroes of valor!
In the deeper dungeon cells, a two-headed giant, an ettin named Flotsom 'n Jetsom, declares that it will wander the Desert if freed, eating anyone stupid enough to cross its path...
In Giant: FREE FLOTSOM 'N JETSOM, SO WE CAN RAMPAGE AND KILL IN THE DESERT AGAIN, AND MAKE MEN QUAKE WITH FEAR AGAIN!!
Hmm, Maybe the Ettin can stay here...
"Agreed, those caught harming others are prisoners. There for he should stay and suffer trail by combat. Probably as many victories for as many lives he has taken?" she days a bit unsure as to the proper number. However if he is meant to live he will live if not then he would meet death on the battlefield of honor.
Upon learning that harem girls were, or could be, slaves Zagathoth immediately returns to their balcony. Standing in the doorway, wearing only a bed sheet for a kilt and still holding a half eaten lamb shank, he announces, ”I do not keep slaves. If you want to live here and make sex with me when I’m here you can and we will take care of you. If you do not want to live here and make sex with with me when I’m here then you are free to leave. You can take your clothes with you and food for your trip.”
After spending some more time with those who wish to stay, the orc takes a break to tour the arena with his companions. He smiles his wide toothy grin at the sturdy orcish gladiatrix’s offer. ”You can try,” he answers with a smirk, ”when we are done here. For now walk with us.”
|
Lucius moves, first to pray with Sir Landry, and then to speak with Troy of Aragon, both of whom he addresses in their own native languages.
"Welcome friends. May I ask how you come to be here."
If Landry reveals his Templar affiliation Lucius does not react badly. "The suppression of your order was a perversion of the Church, Seigneur. I rejoice in your freedom. We return to Rome in order to battle the forces of the Anti-Christ, will you join us in this quest?"
Troy receives a similar offer.
Replying to Cardinal Lucius' query, Sir Landry speaks in French-accented English: After our order was outlawed by King Philip the Fair, and our master, Jaques DeMolay, was burnt at the stake, the few Poor Brothers of the Temple who survived went into hiding. The order has persisted in secrecy to this day, Your Grace. Our purpose remains the same as ever--to protect the faithful against the enemies of Christ, and to find and preserve the lost relics of our faith. Myself and three other Poor Brothers came to Africa in search of the fabled mines of King Solomon... Alas, we failed to discover the lost mines... Worse, we fell into the hands of a band of Arab slavers who took us prisoner and sold us to the Emir of Marrakech, Some three days before last Easter... All three of my brothers have died in the Arena of Death, slain by fearsome monsters! I am the last...
Sir Landry fights back tears as he shamefully recounts the harrowing tragedy. Regaining composure, he kisses Cardinal D'Borja s ring and vows: My sword and my life are yours to command, Father!
Likewise, Troy of Aragon expresses his gratitude for being freed, and replies to Cardinal D'Borja's inquiry in Spanish: I was a merchant trading Spanish wine for gold and gaveh, when my ship was boarded by Arab pirates, who took me captive and sold me to the Emir of Marrakech just after Christmas Day... God bless you for rescuing me!
"Mines of Solomon?" She tapped her chin."Could you give us a map or some of the clues you have so we may look for them?" Mwikali says looking over the two still unsure what the kneeling often did. It wasn't like they were naked and vulnerable to there god? It was odd but it was their way.
Ihrin still in her fine attire looks over those freed sipping on some of the wine she had. Ever stoic the dark colors with her dusky olive skin looking out from the Balcony that Zag stood on.
"So are you taking them as wives then?" she says giggling.
"You do know you can only have one wife and to sleep around on her means infidelity which is a sin. but then again so is 'making sex' before marriage"she giggles again before turning to look at all the women and smiling.
"Also if you want a more decadent show, These women learned not only to please the Emir but each other. How else do you think they are trained. Quite the sight"With that she slinks out knowing she is damned either way.
"What?!?" the orc answers with real confusion. "No, the rule is just no making sex with married womans..."
"Interesting" She says taking a sip from her flask as she looks on the capable warrior. She shakes her head and smiles.
"Have you never read the Bible Oh Slayer of Emirs? Or any other works? If not I am glad to teach you. Expand your mind on things that transcend beyond your blade and the arm that welds it" She says limping over using her cane, until right next to him and runs a finger across his cheek and then stops at his chin before letting it run underneath and down his throat.
"I might even let you 'make sex' with me. Just pray to God that you live through it" she says with a wink before she turns and limps away.
Algoral chuckles at all of the weird Mortal courtship rituals. Where he is from it would be a much longer process and involve a lot of poetry and other artistic efforts...
Perpireen McGibel, it is good to see another First Worlder out here. If you have the time this evening, I would love to work with you on chronicling your adventures with these folks. I feel there is an opera or at least epic poem that could be created from their story.
"That's Lord Perpireen McGibel to you my lad, as you well know. Our king himself gave me that title when he made me an Emissary. So then Algoral I was told you where out and about in the mortal land. And no I will not be giving my hard won stories away just like that, go get your own."
He says with a chuckle.
Ah well, your stories are of course your own, but I thought you would appreciate a professionals touch. No matter, I am sure I will find plenty to amuse and entertain as I travel with these folks. I can already see the beginning of a base comedy surrounding the orc and his "passionate naivete."
Now enjoying ribbing his fellow Fey, she chuckles again.
"Is that a bit of hurt pride I see Algoral, haha, I meant no offence."
He says while he zips around,
"A comedy sounds like a grand idea, why don't you do that. The court always likes a good laugh at the odd things mortals get up to. But let me whisper then and Idea or two that may help you."
Only being a 3ed his brethren's size he flies up close to an ear to whisper.
"Two of the people here at this time is not chance Algoral, so tell me who in the court sent?"
"I never readed anything," the orc answers with a shrug, "but it is not my mind that needs to exercise right now."
Dropping his bedsheet-kilt to 'unsheathe his greatsword' the hulking Emir adds, "I lived through it all so far," as he returns to his celebrating.
"You would be surprised Emir about what you can find in a book"She says as she watches him undress and blushes.
After he strides back into the room she shakes her head and whispers."Its what you die form that is more disconcerting" She takes another swig and walks through the Harem back to the dining room.
"Have your fun Emir, please see me when you are done. I am gonna teach you to read whether you like it or not"
Night falls on the 18th of January, and the adventurers spend the night in the palace.
The morning of Friday, 19th January, dawns... Saint Valentine's Day is only 26 days away now...
The morning sky on Friday the 19th of January is gray and cloudy, and distant rumbling of thunder can be heard, growing nearer by late morning, when a rare winter rain begins to fall on the streets and rooftops of Marrakech, and on the Moroccan Desert...
The rains fall until about 3:00 in the afternoon, when the sun emerges from the clouds and dries up the rain...
In gratitude for her liberation, and in order to speed the heroes on their way to their next quest, the Marid uses her powerful wish magic to warp time and space itself on behalf of the mortals who freed her from ancient bondage...
Their three-day sojourn in the Moroccan Desert is accomplished in but a single day's time, so swift are their camels and horses!
Habiba bides her time once the strangers arrive and slay the Emir. Habiba has been here for nearly a fortnight, having used her mental abilities to pawn herself off as a simple serving maid, and avoiding direct contact with the Emir at all costs. This was not the original plan: she had meant to infiltrate the Emir's estate and raid whatever stores of knowledge (magical and otherwise) he had amassed, in an effort to learn her true identity.
A chance glimpse of the Emir's true form as a Rakshasa required a swift change of plans, and a longer game to play. The risks were higher, but the rewards also likely greater, with such a powerful magical being in charge of the estate...
The arrival of the strangers was at first an annoyance; she had nearly finished mapping out the palace's every nook and cranny, and had subtly manipulated herself to be on duty in areas where secrets might be overheard and guards avoided much of the time. That the work was now potentially wasted (or at least set back) was discouraging.
In the time since, however, the Emir's killers had proved to be an honorable bunch, and their talk of the dangers facing the world was intriguing. If nothing else, traveling in a group might afford better protection, and a greater chance at stumbling across the knowledge she needed.
And so, she reveals herself. The next morning at breakfast, Habiba dons the clothes and gear she arrived in (carefully hidden somewhere they would not be found) and stands before the Desert Jackals in her normal form, without the appearance masking magic that made her seem as a normal human. Some may recognize her, if they'd bothered to pay attention to the servant slaves.
"After taking some time to observe, I am finally assured you are no abusers, like the former Emir. I wish to introduce myself, I am Habiba Al-Sahim, a mentalist of some talent. I have been in disguise here for two weeks, in the hopes of cracking the Emir's vault of hidden knowledge and treasure." she says, and shakes her head ruefully.
"Your arrival threw off my plans, to say the least. Nevertheless, you seem to have a nobler goal than i, as vanquishers of injustice. If you would forgive my deception, and allow me to join you in your adventures, I would be both honored and grateful. Otherwise, I shall move on my own."
Habiba bides her time once the strangers arrive and slay the Emir. Habiba has been here for nearly a fortnight, having used her mental abilities to pawn herself off as a simple serving maid, and avoiding direct contact with the Emir at all costs. This was not the original plan: she had meant to infiltrate the Emir's estate and raid whatever stores of knowledge (magical and otherwise) he had amassed, in an effort to learn her true identity.
A chance glimpse of the Emir's true form as a Rakshasa required a swift change of plans, and a longer game to play. The risks were higher, but the rewards also likely greater, with such a powerful magical being in charge of the estate...
The arrival of the strangers was at first an annoyance; she had nearly finished mapping out the palace's every nook and cranny, and had subtly manipulated herself to be on duty in areas where secrets might be overheard and guards avoided much of the time. That the work was now potentially wasted (or at least set back) was discouraging.
In the time since, however, the Emir's killers had proved to be an honorable bunch, and their talk of the dangers facing the world was intriguing. If nothing else, traveling in a group might afford better protection, and a greater chance at stumbling across the knowledge she needed.
And so, she reveals herself. The next morning at breakfast, Habiba dons the clothes and gear she arrived in (carefully hidden somewhere they would not be found) and stands before the Desert Jackals in her normal form, without the apperance masking magic that made her seem as a normal human. Some may recognize her, if they'd bothered to pay attention to the servant slaves.
"after taking some time to observe, I am finally assured you are no abusers, like the former Emir. I wish to introduce myself, I am Habiba Al-Sahim, a mentalist of some talent. I have been in disguise here for two weeks, in the hopes of cracking the Emir's vault of hidden knowledge and treasure." she says, and shakes her head ruefully....
Panting from the pleasurable exertions of making the sex with her new overlord Zagathoth, Daagnazzta reassures him: I will keep your women and offspring safe, My Lord!... No harm will come to them!... I swear it, My Mighty Conqueror!
"Hmmm you look blessed by one of the great elements Habiba? And you seek to foil injustice and seek knowledge. Well I like you already. However it seems we must depart My beloved Africa to aid in the Christian Church with some sort of great peril. I have yet to get the full details but I do know it seems adamant with something called an Angelshowing up as well as them teleporting in?"She says still a bit fuzzy on the details, but not the menace that the threat held when their divine quest was brought up.
Zagathoth gives his most recent conquest an appreciative smack on her well-muscled backside. "It is good to be the Emir," he reflects with a broad, toothy grin.
When the orc tracks down Ihrin in the early morning hours he is once again clad in a bedsheet kilt. His muscly body glistens with sweat and it looks like he has a fat lip and several bite marks on his shoulder and chest. He carries a huge mug of mead in his left hand and hunk of spiced meat, wrapped in flatbread, in his right. "I have comed to read!" he announces with a chuckle, "what tongue will you teach me in?"
On hearing that the Arena of Death and Marrakech are under a new Emir, and that emir is the orc gladiator Zagathoth, whom the Cyclops had fought alongside in the Arena on occasion, the one-eyed giant does a celebratory dance and chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound...
HOHOHOHO!! So, old Zaggy is my new master!? Yay!! Fun times!!
An owlbear in a cage glares at spectators...
HOOOOO!!! HOOOOO!!!
THE other monsters in the dungeon of the Arena of Death include a woolly rhinoceros from the plains of Africa, a leucrotta from the Caledonian Highlands, a giant stag beetle from the Black Forest, a dire boar from Sherwood Forest, and a flail snail from the swamps of the Nile...
"Mines of Solomon?" She tapped her chin."Could you give us a map or some of the clues you have so we may look for them?" Mwikali says looking over the two still unsure what the kneeling often did. It wasn't like they were naked and vulnerable to there god? It was odd but it was their way.
Sir Landry looks at Mwikali with haunted eyes and slowly shakes his head...
I am sorry, my lady... But I cannot in good conscience lead you to go to that terrible place... For King Solomon's Mines lie within a savage kingdom called Kukuanaland, near the Kalukawe River... A place where cruel black savages sacrifice their enemies to demons! I pray thee, my lady... Do not ever go there!
"I have a few I can teach you in, but I was wondering if you had a choice what language would you want to read first? Latin perhaps, it is what the Bible is written in, or would you like something else. Tell Me Mighty Zagathoth where were you raised?" She asks with a smile looking at the orc, hoping to expand his mind with the infinite possibilities that were the written word.
"If you haven't noticed Sir I am a black skinned savage!" she says with a smirk leaning in showing just enough of her unworldliness. Her scales slightly apparent as she lets her claws linger a bit more visibly out.
"And you might think they worship these 'demons' but you never know it might be local spirits or creatures that demand a sacrifice for them to continue to live. Either way, I do not fear this land or its people. Like your priests, Mother Africa has chosen men, given me power to see its peoples free form the yoke of outsiders, free to grow strong and mighty so that outsiders not only envy us but fear us. So I would walk through these 'demon worshippers' if it meant to achieve my dream." She stated her conviction and motivations apparent to the knight. If need be she would kill there so-called God if it meant for her people to finally be free but they didn't need to know that part.
”I was raised with the fighting beasts at a arena near where the knight lived. I think he called it Oviedo,” Zagathoth answers with a shrug.
”You can teach what tongue you want; I don’t know what I will do with it. I can talk and hear this tongue and the knight’s... my woman’s at the Padre’s house... Bear’s when he is a man, and when he is a bear, and when he is a snake... the Pope’s, and the birds’ that live with the Pope... the big cat I seed earlier at the arena, and most of the people's who live here... the horned man’s who leaved... the man who saw ghost’s- he leaved before... and the devil that we fighted’s.”
" You are gifted in tongue and ear Zag, but can you write the words you speak? That is what I am to teach you. Let us train you first in Gods tongue. For you shall learn to read and write latin!" She says smiling as she grabs some paper and charcoal and writes first his name and smiles."Can you read this?"
THE other monsters in the dungeon of the Arena of Death include a woolly rhinoceros from the plains of Africa, a leucrotta from the Caledonian Highlands, a giant stag beetle from the Black Forest, a dire boar from Sherwood Forest, and a flail snail from the swamps of the Nile...
Lord P heads down to see the monsters, in the death pits. He goes there to talk to them. For he has the gifts to do so. There he talks to them, one and all.
"The evil of the Imir is over, and you will be free soon. But where will you go and what will you do. This world is changing, the one god is coming and his faithful have no time for us. We of the bright ways know this, we left long ago, left into myths and dream. Where all is possible in an infinite space. There we wait until this time has passed. Magic and beings like us, must hide in dream and myths. Safe away from the fires if the faithful. So I give each of you this chance."
And he opens a door to the great brightways of the Fey. To the 1st world. On the others side is a fey from the king under the hill.
"I bring more magic folk"
Load P says to the fey.
Then back to those in the fight pit.
"This door leads to the bright ways, where you can live a full life as you where meant to. Chose, face the fire here or leave and wait it out in a world where all is possible.."
Indeed, there are takers, and the creatures given this offer by Lord Perpireen are transported through the gate to the First World.
And so the book closes on this chapter of our epic saga, to be continued in another tale...