Slave Unbound Ch. 24

Chapter 24

The Monster of House Warforger

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Disclaimer: This story is not meant as 'erotica', but dark adventure-fantasy. It may contain material that sensitive readers might find uncomfortable. Please be advised.

"Finish up!" A guard, not too far off from where Trinka was practicing, shouted to the gathered gladiators in the training pitch. "Crusher is being transported up for his yard time."

She watched with amused wonder as the stable of hardened warriors all begin quickly wrapping up their activities and squaring away what equipment they were using, moving with a sense of urgency. She'd watched this little dance several times now and it still amazed her just how much fear the 'House Monster' evoked in people. Of course, she'd heard plenty of stories about the savage brute of House Warforger, an orling warrior that was more feral and dangerous than any of its full-blooded kin.

Supposedly, unlike other orlings, Crusher had been born within an actual oruhk tribe and managed to earn a place among them as a warrior. Considering that oruhks typically despised half-breeds, that meant that it had to be meaner and tougher than all its full-blooded kin, even from birth. As the rumors went, it had only managed to get captured as a slave because it had been asleep, but still ended up killing several of its captors before they managed to get it to any sort of auction. It was immediately deemed only viable for the Grand Arena, too violent and feral for any other place.

Trinka was pretty sure that was all it really was: rumor and manufactured legend. A half-breed born into a tribe would not have lasted long enough to earn much of anything. Most orlings were essentially farmed by the slave trade, using female oruhk slaves as breeding sows. The rest were products of unlucky encounters with oruhks or other orling slaves by women who managed to survive it.

However, it was not just rumor that the Grand Arena was where it belonged, as it quickly became a darling of the sands. It was documented fact that Crusher had never lost and never left an opponent alive. The arena kept a record of every gladiator, sometimes publically presenting stats for the participants of a particular fight to boost interest in attendance. Crusher's record was proudly displayed every day in the main foyer, hailing the monster as the current 'star of the pit'.

There were other gladiators who had perfect records and other gladiators who were known for killing opponents, but Crusher's record was made notable due to the sheer number of deaths and wins that had racked up in the years that it had been fighting. Over three hundred people had lost their lives to the orling, many killed in truly spectacular fashion, such as being split in half, long ways.

Within the city of Solace, almost everyone knew who the beast named 'Crusher' was, though few, still alive, had ever seen it up close. That included even the majority of the House's stable of gladiators, as most were quick to vacate the training pitch before Crusher could be brought out. Only a few ever stayed long enough to see the monster brought out, though they never remained longer than to get a glimpse before their courage failed.

Many of the stable had fought actual, full-blooded, oruhks in the arena, and even beaten them. However, this one half-blood made them flee like children. Trinka had lingered a few times to see the creature brought out, muzzled and heavily chained, a number of guards bristling about him, weapons ready to defend themselves. She'd been told by one of the other gladiators, a man named Luther, that none of it was out of concern for it attempting to escape. Crusher, it seemed, loved being a gladiator and had no desire to leave.

However, it had killed several guards and fellow gladiators over the years, just for fun. Apparently, there had never been official punishment for such transgressions, Solivier usually blaming the victims for their own deaths for being stupid enough to not keep their guards up. As far as he was concerned, Crusher was a killing machine and he expected nothing less from his 'House Monster'.

Despite all these rumors and towering reputation, Trinka had been a bit surprised by the monster when she'd first seen it. She'd expected some thrashing beast, growling and straining, but Crusher had practically strolled along, calm as a snowy day. Even covered with a grown man's weight in thick iron chains, the orling seemed completely unburdened and unbothered.

Even so, it was easy to see why it was considered so fearsome. Despite being a half-breed, Crusher looked larger than a full-blood, with a body so heavily toned that it seemed to be nothing but muscle. Yet, despite the bulk of the frame, its form was still sleek and agile, like the body of a massive hunting cat. It radiated an aura of menace, even with the serene manner it kept, seeming always on the verge of pouncing.

She had half-expected it to break free at any moment and begin raining down havoc. That it didn't even try only seemed to make Crusher more intimidating somehow. Made it seem all the more unpredictable.

"Hurry it up, unless you're wanting to be out here when the House Monster arrives!" Came the cry of another guard, waving for the gladiators to start queuing up to be rebound and taken inside. Trinka finished stowing her practice gear and jogged over to get into the line, falling in behind a tall, dark-haired, gladiator named Dalgo.

"Gods, I could really go for a round with a nice warm cunt right now." Dalgo said, as though speaking to himself, but obviously loud enough for her to hear. He was a mostly charmless hound, thinking most of the time with his libido rather than his wits. Despite his crass personality, he had actually been a pretty good lay and Trinka wasn't against granting the rather gormless attempt at asking for a roll in the bunk together.

"What makes you think you have anything that a worthwhile cunt would want?" She asked him, purposely playing thorny, despite her intent to agree. Eventually, at least.

"Oh, I got plenty to share." He retorted with a chuckle. "Enough for a couple of them, at least."

"Really? And how is that? Do you plan to use Luther's manhood?" She volleyed back.

A ripple of laughter ran through the gladiators in line around them. Dalgo and Luther had a, not entirely friendly, rivalry with one another. Both were exceptional warriors, easily among the best of the House, possibly the arena as a whole. However, the two were almost like night and day in all other regards.

Dalgo's primary fighting style was large, heavy weapons. He typically used either an axe or a sword that required the use of both hands to wield effectively. His arms were more than powerful enough to drive such weapons clean through the shield or cuirass of an opponent. He could also make the swing and recover again with impressive speed.

He had a bombastic personality, especially while fighting, and plenty of arrogance in his own skills. Though not unattractive, he imagined himself as far more handsome than he really was, but his estimations of his prowess, both on the sand and in bed, which he toted loudly, were actually pretty accurate.

By contrast, Luther was a deeply reserved and quiet man, almost a full head shorter than Dalgo, but still exceptionally strong. Preferring a regularly sized blade and reliable shield, what he lacked in raw power was more than made up for by his intense focus and tactical acumen. He excelled at defense and counterattacks.

Against one another, they seemed almost too well matched, both able to foil the other back and forth. Trinka was pretty sure that Luther less saw Dalgo as a rival, than as a pain in the ass, but Dalgo definitely considered the blonde swordsman as his prime competition as House Champion. Of course, neither of them was likely to wrest that title away from the current holder, Crusher.

"I'd only use his if I was looking to make you laugh, sweetpea." Dalgo replied, trying to play the sleight off as nothing, though she could see the muscles of his jaw flinching from the effort to grin it away. "Naw, my cudgel is a natural two-hander. As you well know."

Tease as she might, she did, in fact, know that to be true. However, she wagered Luther might well be far more adept at swinging his, even if it was shorter. Not that Luther really seemed all that interested. Which was fine, as he'd also likely be much less easy to manipulate through playing bed-mate to; unlike the far less savvy Dalgo.

"Well, I'll give it a little thought." She conceded, suddenly feeling tired of the banter. "I was wanting to ask you a question on a different subject though." She said, hoping she could get him to shift subjects off of his considerable libido.

"What's that, sweetpea?" He asked, seeming a bit less interested in something that didn't involve him putting his 'cudgel' into a waiting woman.

"Who is it that Crusher spars with? Everyone always vacates the yard when they bring it out, but surely it doesn't just train alone." She wasn't sure if the answer would be worth anything or not, but she'd been actively searching for holes and weak points around the House that she could exploit to her advantage. Ultimately, she intended to stay here long enough to get the promised second chance to face the girl who'd gotten her stuck here, but she didn't put her full trust in anyone enough to really believe that Solivier would keep his promise to return her freedom afterwards.

Dalgo paused a moment before shrugging. "Not sure he spars with anybody. Not even sure he understands the idea of just 'sparring', where the idea isn't to kill the other person. He probably just uses the time to run around and stretch his legs, since he's kept in a cage all the time." He gave another shrug. "I've never really wanted to wait around to find out. I've seen what he's done to people who got too close."

Trinka frowned a little, glancing back towards the now empty pitch. "But they do let people stay and continue to practice, correct? We're not forced to leave?"

Dalgo eyed her dubiously. "You're not seriously considering it, are you? Crusher's dangerous. Not like how we're dangerous, but 'rabid, wounded, animal' kind of dangerous. Even Master Solivier can't really control him."

"I'm...curious." She admitted. Sometimes knowing the right mongrel to let loose at the right time could be a very useful bit of information. However, she needed to know just how unpredictable that mongrel might be. She thought she might be able to determine that by just how Crusher spent its time in the pitch. If it turned out to be much tamer than people thought or so wild and savage that it would likely start with killing her, then she'd just count it as another dead end.

If it showed some degree of reasoning, but was obviously still a caged beast waiting for a chance to run amok, she might be able to use it somehow, should she have need. She simply couldn't count on Solivier sticking to his word, if she succeeded. Should she fail to kill the blonde bitch, he would most certainly not let her go free. In fact, by his implication, he might well intend to execute her for failure, should it happen.

In such a case, she wanted to know she had options for escape. Trinka was a survivor. Survivors always managed to stay that way by being prepared.

"Well, it's your burial." Dalgo scoffed. "I'm sure you'll prove a nice treat for him. They say he likes a bit of fight in his women as he fucks them to death." He shot her a meaningful look that was full of sarcastic amusement.

"I would assume the guards wouldn't really let it get to that." Trinka sniffed, finding the comment distasteful.

However, his expression shifted into something far more serious. "They aren't here to protect you and there's a reason we're warned that he's coming onto the field. If Crusher gets a hand on you, they won't do anything. It will be considered your fault. That isn't just a rumor, sweetpea."

Trinka looked from him, back to the field, then towards where they were almost to the door leading inside. Dalgo was the next person to be shackled before entrance, so if she was going to remain, she needed to decide now. As the big man raised up his wrists to be restrained, she released a quick breath and stepped from the line. Dalgo gave her one last look, as though he expected not to see her again, and allowed himself to be lead inside.

Moving back into the yard, she cautiously took up a spear again, eyeing the guards about her to make sure that they were not making any objections. While they all seemed to be giving her looks of incredulity, none showed any intent to rebuke her or order her back into the line. She grabbed a nearby spear and went back into her practice routine as the last of the other gladiators were taken in.

The sound of a different set of doors opening into the yard caught her attention and she glanced over to see a throng of heavily armored guards emerge from it, at least half of which were handling the many chains securing Crusher. As before, it tottered along calmly, though still radiating a presence of danger, as though it were unfettered and raving. Cold eyes scanned the field as the orling stepped onto it, quickly catching on her.

That stare bore into her, as though she were the only thing the monster could register. Its muzzle prevented her from seeing much of its face, but she could imagine a cruel snarl, like a territorial wolf, beneath it. For a long moment, she deeply considered taking this last chance to abandon the yard and return inside. The impulse came very close to winning.

Only the feeling of a hand alighting onto her shoulder snapped her from the moment. Her instincts flared and made her whirl about defensively, bringing the spear around to slash at whomever had managed to sneak up on her undetected. However, the weapon was firmly caught, mid-swing, by Donovan Solivier.

"Bold." He said.

"My apologies, Master." Trinka said quickly, flushing at having just attacked her owner. "It was a reflexive action. I wasn't aware it was you that--"

Donovan grinned. "Not you attacking me, I would have been deeply disappointed in you had you not. I meant that your decision to remain in the yard was the bold part." He looked over to where they were beginning the cautious process of unfettering Crusher. "Very, very few are willing to stay, even far to the side, when he is brought out. You might be the first in a long time to be foolish enough to stay on the field holding an actual weapon."

She looked back over to the orling, those cold eyes still boring hard into her. As she watched, they unlocked the muzzle and removed it. Beneath, the expression the creature wore was not some animalistic growl, but a grin of such maliciousness that it made her step instantly backwards in fear, almost tripping over her own feet. Only Solivier kept her from actually toppling over.

"Looks like he approves." Solivier said dryly. "Probably because he thinks you're here as a present. I've not rewarded him with someone to play with for a while."

Trinka looked up at Solivier in utter alarm. "I thought...thought you needed m-me?" That grin, stabbing into her mind like a jagged thorn, had her completely rattled.

"I do." Solivier chuckled. "Which is why you are not to be allowed near him." He took the spear out of her hand as effortlessly as plucking it from the ground. "If you wish to watch him, do so from a distance." He nodded towards a covered area to one side of the pitch.

"Note that, had I not had plans for you, I would have just left you to suffer for your own stupidity." He added. "However, I will just have to settle for being disappointed by your recklessness." She couldn't tell if he was angry or amused, his manner so flat and even. However, she recognized the rebuke of it and gave him an obedient nod.

"Yes, Master." She replied, moving quickly off the field and away from the House Monster that was still staring, unblinkingly, at her with that malevolent smile. Solivier followed along with her, his attention more on her than on Crusher.

"What do you think of him?" He asked her once they were under the portico. "Be honest, I'm curious to actually know your thoughts."

Trinka took a moment to consider those thoughts. A minute ago, before she'd seen that expression on its face, she would have described Crusher as simply 'impressive', given the famed skill in the arena and general aura of menace. Now though, having looked it in the eye, her impression was altered. "It is terrifying." She said simply.

"He."

She looked to Solivier, a little confused by his response. "He?"

"You called Crusher 'it'. Crusher isn't an 'it'." Solivier corrected her. "He is very much a terrifying creature, but make no mistake that he is a man." He looked at the orling almost philosophically, as though admiring a painting. "That is usually the first mistake many make about Crusher. Take him for just some animal, an 'it', and you have already begun to underestimate him."

Trinka frowned a little at that logic. "I usually consider a wild and feral animal much more dangerous than a person, Master."

"Then you have disappointed me again, slave." He replied, though his voice still betrayed no real emotion of feeling to those words. "There is no animal, creature, or force that is more dangerous than man, Trinka. Crusher's true strength is in the part of him that is human, as there is no greater monster in the world. A wild animal may be fierce, but it is only ever motivated by base instinct."

He turned his gaze to meet her eyes. His expression was still deeply philosophic, but heavy with intent and meaning. "Crusher doesn't kill out of instinct, out of fear or hunger or even rage. Crusher kills because he loves it. He is a monster because, like only a human being can, he enjoys causing pain and death."

The guards around the orling suddenly scattered away from him, the last of Crusher's shackles having been removed. The sense of urgency and fear they displayed seemed fully at odds with the calm manner that...HE showed. He made no attempt to leap or swipe at any of them, just stood there a moment, flexing his fingers, eyes still locked on Trinka and grinning horribly at her.

It made her want to bolt from the yard as fast as she could. She felt like she was looking death itself right in the face. The idea that he was not just some wild animal, but a truly malevolent and sadistic man, did make him seem suddenly much more frightening. If he suddenly began charging towards her, she felt certain that she could not possibly reach a safe place fast enough.

"Have you seen enough?" Solivier asked her. "Did you get your answer?"

She looked at her owner in surprise. "Answer, Master?" She asked hesitantly.

"That Crusher wouldn't be of any use to you in an attempt to escape." He responded calmly, the hint of a smile on his face. "He isn't some caged animal that will take the first opportunity to run rampant. He would simply pull you into his cage with him and close the door. What we found of you the next morning would likely be unrecognizable."

A shiver ran through her, both at the image his words conjured and the reply itself, which confirmed that Solivier was already one step ahead of her thinking. While he didn't seem to be particularly bothered by it, the very fact that he so aptly deduced why she was here further proved that he was no one to take lightly. She was beginning to think that her only way out of this place was through the blonde gladiator and that was only if Solivier kept to his word.

"Don't worry, I would be truly disappointed in you if you were not trying to find some kind of angle or advantage to exploit in freeing yourself." He gave her a reassuring look. "I do not expect you to openly trust that I will keep to my word to let you go free if you win against Leita, but I feel confident that you will not attempt an escape before you've had a chance for your own revenge. So, you are welcome to plot and plan all you like. While I have no intention of breaking my word, I accept that you have no reason to blindly believe that."