Talanak walked down the polished sandstone hallways of the gladiatorial pit of Boranon, he was the Slave Master of said city and as such was the highest authority when it came to the purchasing, selling and buying of slaves in and outside of the sandstone city, the city of blood and chains.

He walked leisurely, approaching the main field, his soft cotton toga swishing around his feet as he hummed a slow and ponderous tune.

Today he was going to the examining of the newest purchases for the fighting pits, a job which was incredibly far below one of his position, but who would tell the highest authority in Boranon what he could and could not do?

He had decided to supervise this examination personally as he had heard reports of a very peculiar purchase.

He stepped out of the intricately carved hallways and into a circular field of sand, the arena was approximately 200 metres in diameter and was ringed on all side by towering stands with a holding capacity of 50,000 spectators, it truly was the greatest arena in the kingdom.

He smiled at the field as he stepped into the glaring midday sun, slowly approaching a well-dressed man clutching a whip tightly in has hand who was currently screaming at a group of scantily clad men in loin cloths.

This man was known as the ‘breaker’ his job was to weed out any semblance of individuality or resistance in the slaves so that they could be better controlled, Talanak fondly remembered his time as a Breaker. Those were the days. He thought.

“I’ll ask you again, what is your name?” He said menacingly to a bleeding muscular olive skinned man. The slave looked up at the Breaker and locked eyes with him.

“My name is Bulash!” He yelled defiantly before spitting into the eyes of the Breaker.

Talanak watched in amusement as the tanned skinned slaver got progressively more and more outraged before exploding into a storm of whipping. By the end he had left the defiant slave as no more than a quivering mass of blood and pain on the sand.

Talanak shook his head. That man was a promising gladiator, a shame to see him wasted like this but alas sacrifices needed to be made.

He looked to the men who stood next to the now deceased slave. At least he has managed to instil fear into the others. He thought while looking over the remaining slaves as they gazed down at the dead man with eyes filled with disbelief and fear. Well, all but one.

He said as his eyes looked toward a large muscular figure, seemingly unaffected by the callous murder happening so close to him. This was the reason he had come down to the field toady, this was the monster he had spent a fortune to buy and have fight in his arena.

“Breaker Lognash, how good it is to see you.” Slave Master Talanak spoke in a voice as dark as his soul.

The other man turned around dramatically giving Talanak a good view of his bald head, prominent eyebrows and sharp features.

“My lord Talanak.” He spoke almost reverently as he dropped down to one knee. “You honour this one with your presence.”

“Rise Lognash I have not come for you, I have come for this.” He said as he walked up to the black skinned orc, it stood over 6’8 feet tall with blazing yellow eyes. He was muscular, with broad shoulders and arms and legs the size of tree trunks, his whole body was covered in a variety of small scars which contrasted nicely with his dark skin. He had no hair, having been shaved bald before arriving. He a strong jaw and long powerful tusks protruding from the bottom of his mouth.

“Ah yes master, a fine specimen. We procured him form the recent Orcish invasion on our fair kingdom and have decided he will entertain the people in the fighting pits.” The younger man spoke triumphantly suggesting that he had something to do with this turn of events.

“Very good Lognash, how about a demonstration.” Said Talanak while smile sweetly at the orcs passive face.

“I’m sorry my lord, a what?” Said Lognash questioningly.

“I said young Lognash that I would like to see demonstration of his fighting ability, to make sure you aren’t as incompetent in buying slaves as you are in training them!” He said angrily while pointing at the corpse of the slave.

“Ah yes my lord, right away my lord.” Talanak watched satisfied as the younger man scampered away to organize the fight.

The bout was organized quickly, it would be the orc against three different human slaves.

Talanak clapped lightly to begin the fight and he watched as three obviously terrified human slaves charged for all they were worth toward the towering figure that was the orc. It did absolutely nothing.

Talanak watched in amusement as the men piteously beat their fists against the barrel chest of the creature. It just watched on in casual disinterest before calmly beating them to death, in one such instance he ripped the arms from a man before clubbing him to death with them.

Once the fight was over Talanak walked over to the large orc clapping wildly.

“Truly splendid, come what is you name slave, your real one.” He said enthusiastically toward the orc as the beast leaned in closer.

He thought the orc was preparing to tell him a name, this was the last thing he ever thought.

Takarn’s gleaming white tusks and razor sharp teeth bit into the neck of his enemy severing it to the spine, leaving him as nothing more than a bleeding corpse.

Takarn would receive 500 lashes for this, enough to kill a normal man many times over, but Takarn survived an not once did he cry out in pain, for in his brief time in captivity he had resolved himself, no longer would he stumble through life with the nebulous goal of glory guiding his way, no, now he had a goal. He would bring death to the realms of men, he would be the monster men feared.

And by the time he was done, many more corpses would be left in his wake.