Standing 6 feet tall, and a good 200 lbs, Korgoth can seem rather imposing. With rather unkempt shoulder length obsidian hair and piercing emerald eyes, Korgoth is a premier example of human physique.
A New Day Rises (This is the story of how Korgoth became a slave at age 26. Years before the adventure is set to take place. Though the versions your characters may have heard will more then likely be muddled by rumor. This is the only bit of backstory I will willing share out of the confines of in character roleplay. I only share this because the rumor mill between the slaves and gladiators are sure to have churned out multiple versions of these events.)My attempt to rescue my family from House Tulious was an utter failure. When night fell, I was successfully able to infiltrate the gladiator school. Dispatching the first guard with relative ease I made me way through the winding hall unseen, eventually coming across the stairs to the lower levels where the slaves and gladiators were held. If only I had kept my relationship with the shadows. What used to embrace me as a mother, now forsakes me. As if they consciously moved themselves with intent to reveal me. Stepping around the corner at the base of the stairs I was confronted by three guards. I’m fucked. Even if I manage to put down all three the alarm will be raised. I didn’t have much time. From the corner of my eye, a flicker of light gleams. A lantern. This I can use. With one steady heave I launched the lantern at the guards. It burst upon striking one of the men’s chest. Engulfed in flames and distracted I decided to make my move. With a arcing slash I sent my sword arm to cleave the nearest guard. My blade swung true to bite into the man’s thigh. Rhythmic spurts of crimson fluid fling to life from his leg. He will bleed out shortly. The screams of the flaming guard rouse to life the gladiators from their slumber. The last guard bolted down the hall to sound the alarm, and the hallway filled with imposing men. Fucking gladiators. Your slaves and yet you rise to fend off attacks. I will never understand such men. I don’t have much choice at this moment. I have to flee. Live to fight another day, so that I may free my family. Bounding up the stairs I can hear the men chasing after me.
Clearing the stairs I grab another lantern off the wall and smash it on the ground. Maybe the flames will slow down my pursers. I was wrong. Charging down a long hallway two more guards make attempt to block my path. A quickly thrown and well place dagger fells the first. At full speed I slam all my weight against the second. He hits the ground with a dull thud. Swiftly after my boot heel finds his face and caves it in. 4 guards down. How many more are there. Snapping my attention back to reality at the sounds of the gladiators clearing the stair, I duck into a room to my left. This was to be my folly. The room contained no windows and only the one door. I had to make my stand.
Glancing around the room I found a bone dagger. Not the best replacement for the obsidian lined one I left buried in the guard, but it was better then nothing. Steeling reserve I wait for the door to come off it’s hinges. Sword in one hand, dagger in the next. Preparing for my final fight. Once more into the fray. To live and die this day. Six men burst through the door. I charged in. No thought. No strategy. Just vengeance in my heart, and conviction in my veins. The next few moments were a haze of blood and screams. Three of the gladiators feel to my blade before I was over powered. Just before they were to administer the killing blow, Master Tulious burst in. He stayed his slaves hands and had me bound. Apparently I put on quite the show. For from that moment on I was to become a gladiator, a slave. Over the next few weeks I was sent to train in the arts. I remained hostile to my captors. Until one day Tulious himself summoned me. He informed me how lucky I was to be a Nibanese slave. That I would be treated better then slaves in other parts of the world. I would be awarded a small portion of coin for prevailing in the arena. To be used for booze and whores. He informed me that if the crowd grew to be fond of me enough, I may even be able to earn my freedom. My freedom was already earned. Had I a weapon I would have killed him then and there. Just been done with it. That was not an option. So I agreed to champion for House Tulious. Hoping to one day gain enough fame in the arena to earn my freedom and that of my families.
After my first victory in the arena against a young boy. No more then 19. I was allowed the privilege of parchment and quill. So that I could begin keeping this journal again. While I know not who will end up reading this. I know that the scratching of the quill to parchment brings me some form of solace. I must turn in for the evening as I have a big day tomorrow.