sinful saint
Experienced
- Joined
- Jul 10, 2005
- Posts
- 46
OOC: Hello all. Here goes my first attempt at a story thread on this forum (having read a few and getting an inkling how it works.) I will play the part of Kes, and am hoping someone takes up the role of his saviour and, in her eyes, now owner, an Amazon warrior.
Kes struggled against the vice-like grip of one of Gart Trentin's thugs, a brutish man whose shaven-head and lopsided grin was inches from his own face. The mans breath stunk of alcohol, probably cheap Arathian beer. His back was pressed against a brick wall in one of the alleys of the port of Saril.
Gart was stood a few feet away, twirling Kes's own dagger in one hand, another pair of his lackies flanking him. "Kes, Kes, Kes. What am I going to do with you? Three months, three months and not a word, not one message. I'd thought you were dead, and that the loan I gave you was going to go unpaid. But, here you are, live and well! In Saril no less, and my contacts tell me you were trying to book passage away from our fair land."
Kes knew how Gart liked the sound of his own voice, and thought better of interrupting him, whilst trying to think of some excuse, any excuse, that might get him out of the trouble he was now in.
"It distresses me deeply when I have to do things like this. You don't have the money to repay even a tenth of the debt you owe me here," Gart continued, shaking the small coinpurse in his offhand. "You understand, I have to make examples, or my fairness as a moneylender would come into question in certain circles."
Kes had heard of several previous 'examples,' and had no intention of becoming the next. He regretted ever going to Gart for the loan, but it was the only way he could have obtained the coin at the time, without resorting to theft, and Kes was no thief. Tall for his age, with a well-set frame from labouring in the fields of a farm in the holding of one of Arathia's lords, Kes had borrowed from Gart to pay off the gambling debt his foolish brother Derrin had made.
Owing money to Gart had been preferable to owing it to the Shades who ran the gambling dens in over half the country, and between them Kes figured he and his brother would be able to pay it back in time on their wages. When his brother turned up dead a few days later, Kes knew that his relative had used the coin not to pay off his debt, but had gambled it away instead, and the Shades were even more unforgiving than Gart. After Derrin's funeral, Kes knew there was no way he could repay the due amount, and had headed out of his hometown hoping to escape Gart and his cronies. After a few months, Kes thought that he had eluded them, but after being pulled into this alley it had become clear that was not the case.
From a nod from Gart, the brute who held him suddenly threw Kes to the floor, and pulled a hefty looking club from its loop on his belt. The other two thugs drew their own weapons, and advanced on Kes. Kes tried to retreat, scrabbling backwards, but there was nowhere to go. This is it, he thought, as he closed his eyes, not wanting to see Gart's sickening smile a moment longer, tensing for the first blow.
It never came. Instead, there was a cry and shouts and the sounds of a fight, screams of pain and Gart's voice raised to a shrill as he shouted at his thugs. Kes opened his eyes again, to see two of the men laying on the floor, obviously dead by their injuries. Gart and the other had obviously fled from their attacker, who was wiping her blade clean of crimson blood, and regarding Kes cooly.
"You owe me your life," she stated, sliding her sword back into the scabbard at her left hip. Kes stared back at her. He had heard of her people, but never encountered one. He got shakily to his feet, and noted she stood a good head taller than himself, making her at least six foot eight. An amazon.
"My thanks," Kes replied hoarsely, his voice catching in his throat.
Kes struggled against the vice-like grip of one of Gart Trentin's thugs, a brutish man whose shaven-head and lopsided grin was inches from his own face. The mans breath stunk of alcohol, probably cheap Arathian beer. His back was pressed against a brick wall in one of the alleys of the port of Saril.
Gart was stood a few feet away, twirling Kes's own dagger in one hand, another pair of his lackies flanking him. "Kes, Kes, Kes. What am I going to do with you? Three months, three months and not a word, not one message. I'd thought you were dead, and that the loan I gave you was going to go unpaid. But, here you are, live and well! In Saril no less, and my contacts tell me you were trying to book passage away from our fair land."
Kes knew how Gart liked the sound of his own voice, and thought better of interrupting him, whilst trying to think of some excuse, any excuse, that might get him out of the trouble he was now in.
"It distresses me deeply when I have to do things like this. You don't have the money to repay even a tenth of the debt you owe me here," Gart continued, shaking the small coinpurse in his offhand. "You understand, I have to make examples, or my fairness as a moneylender would come into question in certain circles."
Kes had heard of several previous 'examples,' and had no intention of becoming the next. He regretted ever going to Gart for the loan, but it was the only way he could have obtained the coin at the time, without resorting to theft, and Kes was no thief. Tall for his age, with a well-set frame from labouring in the fields of a farm in the holding of one of Arathia's lords, Kes had borrowed from Gart to pay off the gambling debt his foolish brother Derrin had made.
Owing money to Gart had been preferable to owing it to the Shades who ran the gambling dens in over half the country, and between them Kes figured he and his brother would be able to pay it back in time on their wages. When his brother turned up dead a few days later, Kes knew that his relative had used the coin not to pay off his debt, but had gambled it away instead, and the Shades were even more unforgiving than Gart. After Derrin's funeral, Kes knew there was no way he could repay the due amount, and had headed out of his hometown hoping to escape Gart and his cronies. After a few months, Kes thought that he had eluded them, but after being pulled into this alley it had become clear that was not the case.
From a nod from Gart, the brute who held him suddenly threw Kes to the floor, and pulled a hefty looking club from its loop on his belt. The other two thugs drew their own weapons, and advanced on Kes. Kes tried to retreat, scrabbling backwards, but there was nowhere to go. This is it, he thought, as he closed his eyes, not wanting to see Gart's sickening smile a moment longer, tensing for the first blow.
It never came. Instead, there was a cry and shouts and the sounds of a fight, screams of pain and Gart's voice raised to a shrill as he shouted at his thugs. Kes opened his eyes again, to see two of the men laying on the floor, obviously dead by their injuries. Gart and the other had obviously fled from their attacker, who was wiping her blade clean of crimson blood, and regarding Kes cooly.
"You owe me your life," she stated, sliding her sword back into the scabbard at her left hip. Kes stared back at her. He had heard of her people, but never encountered one. He got shakily to his feet, and noted she stood a good head taller than himself, making her at least six foot eight. An amazon.
"My thanks," Kes replied hoarsely, his voice catching in his throat.
