The northern rim territories of the wolven Steppes, 15 years ago.
Three things burned themselves irrevocably into the mind of the young wolven that was Cronn, and he never got rid of them lateron. There was the sight of his twin sister as she was bound, gagged and carried away for a sinister purpose at the hand of these human barbarians. There was the sight of the woman that was his mother once, lying dead in the snow which was reddened by her own blood, her hand still clenching about the sword, and there was the gnashing sound, as the head of the wolven alpha, his father, if his mother was right, was chopped off by Courgan swords, and fell into the snow. All this had happened, because he was taking his watch not seriously. Because he fell asleep... Because the warning sound of his horn came much too late... The Courgan Barbarians, savages which were worshipping dark gods from the beginning of time, were infamous for their twisted rituals, and their habit to sacrifice their captives in bloody ceremonies. This was what they had in mind for his sister, Cronn knew it. They captured him to another end.. They were planning to eat him... Cronn knew the stories. They thought he was still unconscious from the blow... But they were in for a surprise, Cronn thought, as his hand reached out through the wooden bars of his cage, for his mothers sword...
Several years later, the Battle for Narketta:
A large grey wolven, young but of impressive proportions, was sitting in between the corpses of slain enemies on a battlefield. Broken spears stuck in the ground, and broken wooden shields covered it. Crows, the animals of Leki, feasted on the eyeballs of the dead, while their blood was not yet dry. In the middle of all this sat the wolven, cleaned his sword, and watched the blood red dawn.
"Animal... " those "nobles" called him, but a useful one... Cronn didn't care. Cronn fought their wars, because they paid him. That's how he always rationalized it. Even if he already knew that they would betray him. He knew it, because dark elven were double dealers. You could rely on it. He didn't care about it either. At some time in the future they would send him on a suicide mission, and the condition for receiving the payment would be completion. Cronn was fine with that, because it didn't matter to him if he was fighting them, or their enemies. If it would come to this, he could just kill them, take his payment out of their cold grasp, and then walk away without looking back. There was always a war going on. But deep inside he knew... it was not the payment... it was the war frenzy, which he was looking for, because it made him forgot why he was here in the first place. It was the fact that an arbitrary amount of blood cannot wash a man clean from his own personal guilt, that, if he chooses this path, there will always have to be more...
Northern rim Territories of the wolven steppes, a few years later
Several wolven, mostly male, but one female too, were sitting around the fireplace which occupied the center of a large tent. The fire was burning well, bathing the wolven in the yellow, flickering light. Slaves, human women, but some elven too, were sitting at their feet, ready to fill the drinking horns with new sweet mead if necessary. The wolven wore ornaments, necklaces made of the teeth of slain enemies, but also simple metal brooches, which held the capes made of bearfur. Even the hilts of their swords carried ornaments. The tent itself was decorated with crudely woven tapestries, showing the simple patterns of wolven scripture, and the symbols of the wolven Gods. If one could interpret the signs, he would know that this was a Thing of wolven alphas and their trusted shamans. All wolven eyes lay on Cronn now, who sat cross legged in front of the fire, his slave, a girl with fiery red hair, and a strong and well defined body, right next to him.
"You have been to the south several years Cronn. You have grown up, and you have become a proud warrior. You fought for the humans and against them, you know their language, and how they think... You would be perfect. Garn has chosen you to do this."
"I came back to find my place in a pack. And i found it. The pack I am leading is the strongest one in this part of the northern steppes. You want to take this away from me" It's not going to happen." The large, grey furred wolven answered.
"Listen to the wisdom of the shamans Cronn. Our tribes are at war with each other, while the human settlers move forward. Their numbers are always growing, and ours dwindling... we wolven can't win like this... These were your own words when you came back. You were right... We need to learn it from them Cronn. The Ilfirian Empire is still young, yet they are constantly expanding. There are even wolven, beings of our kind, fighting in their armies. We need to know how they do it, how they manage to balance all those different interests and world views, without crumbling... And you are one of the few of us, who can do that. You have fought with them, you have learned how they think and behave... And imagine... Who do you think we wolven will relate to, who will we listen to... who will become our leader, if someone manages to reconcile us... It will need a strong hand... It could be yours... Ruler of the northern Steppes..."
"Garns Testes... you are asking me to leave the pack, which i lead by the right of my own strength... "
"We know, but think about what you can achieve... what you could become... think about the Whitestrider attack. We need that wisdom..."
"Give me time to think..."
A Cell under the Arena of Eridu, Again a few years later:
It was a dark and mucky cell, some straw was covering the dirty floor. Sunlight fell through the trellised window into the little room, leaving bright traces in the dusty air. The grey furred wolven which was Cronn patted his chest with his large hand, to catch one of those damned mosquitos. Yet the movement was slow and with few vigor, and so the mosquito escaped. It was hot, the air in the arena, behind the trellises was flickering with heat. The wolven slowly cursed his grey pelt, which, under these circumstances, became more than just a nuisance.
"So, they betrayed you?"
The wolven gave the dark skinned, bald human fighter in the neighboring cell a disgruntled look, which basically said "None of your business".
"Just asking... i mean you wouldn't be here if not. I just like to get to know the guy a little better which i will be trying to kill tomorrow. Come on, you already told me the beginning... Here... take some of my water, big fella..."
The wolven nodded, took the large scoop, which the other gladiator was handing him through the iron bars, and then, after emptying it in one big gulp, he continued: "I lived in a cottage near Nanthalion, trying to learn about the methods of the empire, when one day Isrina arrived. She was a former slave of mine, before i left the pack. Never bartered her for anyone else, even as i became alpha. Human, but strong, and with fiery red hair. They called her Isrina Hammerblow. Her will was not to be broken, that was why she was given to me when I joined the pack in the rank of an omega. No one else wanted her, thus the omegas got her. She was dangerous, with a hot and fiery temper... yet with time she became mine. Because i didn't intend to break her. As much as you don't try to break a rod of steel, but heat it, and bend it slowly, you couldn't break her too. You had to forge her in the heat of her desires. You had to earn her trust in the only way it can be earned... with time. She was an untamed warrior spirit. As soon as i saw her in Nathalion , i knew that something was wrong."
"How that?"
A paltry hut, in the forests of Nanthalion, Two years earlier
A woman with eyes as green as emeralds, hair in the color of burning flames, and dressed in furs of different animals, sat at a plain table, which showed no discernible embellishments. The paltry furnishing of the room was made for beings as tall as Cronn, who sat at the other side of the table. Two large tankards of ale stood on the table, besides a large wooden plate with half eaten meat, and a pot of salt.
"They betrayed you Cronn. Do you remember the attack of the Whitestrider Tribe" I told you back then, that I had a bad feeling about it. That there was something going on behind the scenes. They swore allegiance, but then, after just a moons cycle, they attacked us... I mean... you... your pack. While you were gone, i found out that they were betrayed too. This Mistwalker shaman, Throm Spiritdancer, had convinced them, that you were planning to invade their territories, once you assured the support of enough tribes. That's why they attacked."
"Throm..." the wolven spat out the name, as if it was something disgusting, which accidently happened to lie on his tongue. "He was one of the wolven who convinced me to come her and search for the wisdom of the Ilfirian empire. He even told me, that the attack of the Whitestriders was a sign, that we wolven were not yet ready, and that we needed the kind of knowledge which only the empire could teach us. I should have listened to you, you have always been a good advisor and friend, Isrina"
."You were wise enough to leave me as your spy.", the red haired woman continued. "So you are not completely useless. Rather clever actually. No one takes a slave for serious. I had to let them have their way with me several times, but I found what they where up to and why, just as you asked me to do. They were afraid of you, Cronn. They were afraid of the change you brought. Your pack was strong, and you were talking about making peace with the other tribes to spare the wolven ressources. They were old, many of them, and there were younger, stronger wolven which were eager to replace them. Keeping a state of war meant, they couldn't be challenged. You were a danger to that reasoning. They didn't plan for you to return either. While you were gone, they were talking to the dark elves. They should "solve the problem" for them.
I will be prepared for them, Isrina. I owe you."
"Yes, you do. You taught me how to escape your kin, how to avoid their attention, and how to trick your fine noses. And you promised me to set me free if I did what you asked me for. I am not without honor, so I kept my part. What about you?" Isrina asked
."You are free Isrina. There would be nothing which could hold you either, now that you know how to escape a hunting wolven."
The cell under the Arena of Eridu, two years later
"So... what did you do?" The dark skinned human fighter asked. Sweat made his skin glisten in the sunlight which fell through the trellised window into the dry and dusty cell, his throat was dry, and so his voice had become rough and raspy. But his water was all in Cronns cell now.
"She layed with me one last time. This was the last evening she was mine. She left the next morning, because she had to find her own path, and I let her. But she said, that she was looking forward to the next time we meet. And that she was hoping we wouldn't be fighting on different sides, because she rather not wanted to kill me. I for myself headed north. I knew that a Moriel assassin was on my trail now, and that, even if I killed him, there would be another one soon. To get rid of the Dark elves, I would have to kill those very wolven which bartered my life for power. I knew their names from Isrina, and I figured, that if they were dead, the Moriel couldn't expect payment, which would ensure my survival, and also allow stronger, more reasonable wolven to take their places.
"Did you kill them all?"
"Yes"
"Just know, that I am not welcome with the tribes of the north anymore. There were no proofs for my accusations, but the words of a slave, which was not even present. They outlawed me, hunted me. I will never return to my homelands". And this is the end of the story
The wolven said, before he layed down on the straw, face to the wall. H didn't seem to have an interest in going into any further details."But how did you end up here?"
The wolven didn't answer. Instead... he snored.
Another cell, in the guardhouse of Eridu, a few weeks earlier.
"See... the punishment for breaking the law here in Eridu is slavery. You can be purchased by anyone. Anymone! If someone wants to spend the money, he can purchase you, and then he can treat you as he sees fit. This is how law works here, Cronn. So.... Tell me... Cronn ... Where is Gyars gem... get it over with, or else I will buy you from the auction, and I will torture the secret out of you, before I kill you slowly. It was you who broke into Gyars tower, who killed him. Don't lie to me. Don't tell me that you didn't know about the gem.
Cronn didn't need that little lecture about the law in Eridu. He knew it already. Turning a criminal into a slave gave those who were impaired by his crimes the opportunity to buy him, and then take revenge on him. If they had the money. It was a working system, and it brought money into the cities cashboxes. But Cronn didn't felt like exerting the patience to endure the man in front of his cell much longer, This guy, Rokhos, a merchant and former business partner of the necromancer Gyar, was talking much too much.
"He was a necromancer. Death was still too good for him" the wolven growled.
"I don't want to take revenge wolven. I didn't even like Gyar. We just happened to have the same... interests. The only thing I am interested in is the gem, which you obviously stole. So... where is it" I have not a little amount of money at my disposal. I could buy you freedom..."
"You waste your time, Rokhos..." the wolven growled, before he spat through the bars of his cell, into the face of the fat and ugly man, who was wearing a much to large yellow gown, in the futile attempt to hide his bad shape.
"This you will pay..." the man shouted. "I will invent pains for you, which no one has experienced before. You will wish to be dead..."
"Yeah, you may try to invent them. I applied for the arena..." the wolven grunted back to the agitated man, making him lose his composure once again. The man remained speechless...
"The option for slaves, who plan to be free again. Don't tell me you didn't think about that possibility, Rokhos ..."
"But... that's... madness". Rokhos shouted. "The arena is bloody and unforgiving...Only one in over a hundred survives the arena... You think this could be you" Probably with the other slaves, but when you face the professional gladiators in the end.... The last time a slave prevailed in the arena is decades ago...."
"Hah..." a loud laugh was shaking the massive frame of the wolven. "I will. Probably I will even come back for another year as a professional myself. The payment is good, and the habit to send slave girls to the surviving fighters will sweeten my nights. And as I recall, your daughter Prya has passed her 18th summer, and will have her coming of age this year. Despite her father, she has become quite beautiful as I recall, and she is known to be fascinated with the games. I have seen her often with her friends rooting for the strong and violent..."
"You..." The head of the fat man turned red with anger.
The wolven didn't answer. His head turned for the guard, and then he growled: "Take this guy out . He was just here to bore me."6 months later, The arena of Eridu
"This is the third time that you applied as a prize in one of my fights, Prya"
Cronn was carrying the young, brunette human woman down the stairs, which led from the large balcony that was overlooking the arena, into the arena itself. The other women were clearing the balcony too, some of them happy, some of them disappointed that they weren't chosen.
"It is also the third time that you chose me. People might notice that it is not quite a coincidence."
"What about your father. Did he notice?" The wolven asked.
"Yes, and he tried to bar me from you, but that will not be a problem anymore"
"You did what I told you to do?"
"Yes Cronn, yesterday night he died by the bite of a venomous viper. It must have somehow "slipped" under his blanket."
"This means, you are now a very wealthy woman... you did very well, Prya. He was old, and stupid, and he would have gotten into the way of our love. Being ruthless is a quality which I find quite attractive in a woman. Almost as much as her being rich and beautiful... and willing" the wolven said, while laying Prya down into the dust of the arena, just before he tore off her long, beautifully adorned gown.
"Then take me, mighty warrior, you already took my maidenhood before the very eyes of the city. Now show them that we belong together... The venomous viper, and the brawny warrior..."
The wolven swiftly unbuckled the belt which was holding the leathery loincloth. With a clanking noise buckle and loincloth fell into the dust, revealing the wolvens already half erect malehood to Prya and the audience.
"Cronn...You are going to be with me, when the tournament is over Cronn, are you?" The voice of the woman trailed off, showing that there were cracks in her "evil seductress" mask...
"Yes... of course. I promised you, did I not?"
"Yes... but..."
"Then lie down, and spread your legs Prya. I will win this tournament, and then we will rule this city by my strength, and your amorality. But before all that I am going to take my prize for today."
The mansion of Lady Prya, Eridu, Months later.
Prya sat on a chair, surrounded by slaves which cared about each and every need of her. Everyone could see, that she was expecting. Her hand glid about her round belly, but her face showed neither joy, nor anticipation. She was alone, because Cronn... Cronn was not there. He won the tournament, and was gone the next day, no one knew where to.
At the same time, next to the Lonely Inn in Nanthalion
Cronn jumped off the cart. The merchant had agreed to take the wolven with him into the city of Nanthalion because it was always good to have somebody on board, who seemed as if he was at least half competent in a fight. It made possible brigands think twice. He was content. The journey from Eridu to Nanthalion had taken four months, yet Eridu was not a place for him to stay. Prya was rich, but held no real power, her father Rokhos, though wealthy, had been a mere merchant, and no real factor in the politics of Eridu. He was barely a slave to the man named Gyar, and lucky that he caught a few of his dark secrets, the black gem in Cronns bag being one of them. And Prya... she was young, and stupid. She thought about herself as ruthless, dreamt the childish dream of becoming the coming queen of Eridu, yet she was just a spoiled girl. Cronn, the wolven gladiator, Cronn the barbarian of the northern steppes, this Cronn was just a fantasy of a woman which had never seen the real ugliness of life... Cronn would have been of interest to her for one or probably two years. Then, one day, Cronn would have found a poison in his ale, or a viper in his bed just as her father did. This was no life for him. He had played her to get to her father and now that Pryas father was dead, there was no one left who knew about the mysterious little black gem in Cronns possession. And Nanthalion seemed quite a good place to stay, at least for a time. It had the tower of Unigo, where Cronn could probably shed some light on that odd gem, and the fact why the necromancer Gyar considered it as his most valuable treasure.
Then Cronn entered the Lonely inn... It was as good as coming home.