dramadramaduck | Ding Level 1

[The scene shows what appears to be an internment camp, as something is projecting the comm over and around the place, giving a panoramic view of a keep with many men and green skinned people milling around some of the green skinned people were being brow-beaten by the humans, some of them being left alone. Either way, it was painfully obvious what this place was.

Soon, the cheering of the men intensified as a dark haired orc stepped forward into a ring occupied by several armored men with nets, weapons and such. The orc with his piercing blue eyes took up a stout club and shield, and readied himself for battle.

CLASH! The men fought against him, all at once at times. It seemed that the young orc was being trained for battle, and his weapon smashed against their shields, throwing men back with significant strength. But soon, he was brought down and a captain blew a whistle.]

That's enough. Blackmoore will have our heads if his slave is injured further. Tend to his wounds and send him back to his cell.

[The scene blurs for a moment and the young orc is laying in a heap of straw, looking up when he notices the community. Reaching up, he pokes at it, like it is permanent video.]

Who is there? Who is scrying on me? Is someone on the other side of this looking glass?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You certainly do not look like one of the races of our lands.

Yes. I am... owned, by Blackmoore, the leader of this internment camp.

No ducks over there, eh? At least you're reacting to it a lot better than most folks do.

What do you mean, "owned"?

None that speak the common tongue, at any rate. [Pandas maybe though.]

I am Blackmoore's prize, his slave-gladiator. I have been raised by him, as a sort of trophy since I was a baby.

... Do you eat them too?

Huh. Are you okay with that?

Some do, but I have never had the taste of wildfowl on my tongue. It is not in my place to have it.

It is the life I've had for a long time. It is... hard, but I am enduring.