The Saga of Lucius Victorium Gnaeus
Episode One
How was it that I had landed in this cesspit of a provincial jail reduced to pining for open air and something to eat aside from the daily ration of watery gruel and the occasional chance cricket or roach?
Forgive me. Recalling those mean circumstances I found myself in, my manners have slipped: I am Lucius Victoriam Gnaeus of House Gnaeus - subhouse of Darmen, third son of Gaius Lucius Gnaeus heir to Baron Gaius Peraxis Gnaeus and priest of Kord and great adventurer! However, no one knows any of that now…
My companion, (a fickle creature of some strange feline race), and I had traversed nearly the entire continent only to land in this abysmal place. I could not believe this would be my end. I am destined for greater things - curse my chaotic companion and his unpredictable ways. Still, I knew even in those dire circumstances my natural abilities and faith in Kord would permit me to persevere!
A few days after being arrested and thrown into this place we were served a hearty stew, which I greedily devoured for sustenance. That was the last thing I remember of that horrid place.
*****Darkness****
I have no idea how long I was unconscious. That “luxurious” meal I had consumed had been drugged. My head was full of fog and I had the slight sense of spinning. I could feel the cool of a stone or perhaps tile floor beneath me. I opened my eyes and in the half light streaming in I could see I had been transported to an entirely new location. Before I could really clear my vision, I immediately noticed this locale had a considerably less offensive odor.
In the half-light I pushed myself upright and immediately perceived I was not alone. In this very solidly built cell, slumbering on a mat of straw was an enormous fellow. He had wild hair and a beard to match and was very tall and broad. Frankly, his appearance was intimidating though he slept like a babe. The light began to increase as it became clear the sun was rising outside of this place and began to stream in through a high, tiny barred window.
I could also see that my heavily barred cell was one of many in this chamber. Throughout the several cells were various folks, some humans and other races. Across the chamber was another line of cells that held some foul looking goblins. I suppose it was their presence that tainted the air slightly, because the chamber was very clean otherwise. Even the straw in the various cells appeared unsoiled.
I quietly took a few moments to say my prayers to Kord, clutching a simple holy symbol that for some reason I had been permitted to keep.
I watched through the bars as another prisoner shook himself awake. He was huge fellow too and even in the morning light I could see he was a half-breed orc. The creature shook his head a couple of times, assessed the situation, and to my amazement dashed across his cell and threw himself against the cell door. The crash was terrific. Immediately all in our little prison were awoken. The half-breed orc seemed none the worse for wear, but had made no impression on the stout barred door. He did incur the wrath of an unseen guard, who cursed loudly and ordered all to be quiet.
As my cellmate woke I engaged him in a brief conversation and learned he was from the north. He and his brother had been arrested for fighting and later were drugged and brought to this place. Naturally, the poor soul was as lost to the meaning of all of this as I was.
The first guard came in and he was an imposing figure. He had a gladius on his hip, and wore a baldric with five silver coins sewn into the front in intervals. If he possessed a puglio, it was concealed. His limbs were protected with manicas and greaves. He informed us we would be fed and then introduced to Crixus. He would answer no further queries from the prisoners.
The half-breed orc commenced stripping all of his scant clothes off his body in some bizarre rite or protest to his condition. I had overheard his name as Thock. In his state of undress, it was abundantly clear that he was a male. Even in his nudity, he appeared capable of defending himself with great aplomb!
When the meal came in it was a porridge, but a rich dish compared to my recent fare and a generous portion too. The food was dished up by a portly halfling accompanied by a pair of guards, both wearing these unusual baldrics. As the diminutive server handed me my portion I thanked him. The halfling seemed genuinely surprised and stuttered, “You’re welcome,” in a low voice back to me. As I watched the halfling continue to apportion this fine repast to my fellow prisoners he would occasionally glance back at me, and noticing my gaze, would politely nod in my direction.
Here was an opportunity I thought. Either the halfling was so unaccustomed to true manners in such a place or he was attracted to me, or perhaps both. In either case I sensed I may have earned an ally here. How valuable an ally I would learn later.
I may as well mention, my long time travelling companion, the feline-like creature was here as well in a separate cell. I had saved the creature from slavery - much to my regret many times in the past and undoubtedly many more times in the future. Still, it was pleasant enough to see a familiar face.
Following the meal we were led into a large courtyard with numerous warriors scattered around a large dirt covered ring. There were many more warriors with the baldrics - some with one or two coins sewn in, but most with more. It came to me what had happened - I was in a Ludus, a gladiatorial school. I the noble son of House Gnaeus had been sold into slavery! I chanced a withering stare at my feline companion, for which I squarely blamed for my predicament. He was oblivious to my ire as usual.
There was another remarkable feature in the courtyard - a trapdoor, divided in the center and hinged on the outer edges. The door was perhaps ten feet across.
My attention was quickly captured by a stout warrior of middle age, but nonetheless looking very capable. He introduced himself as Crixus and confirmed my fears - we were to be trained as gladiators and if we won five mortal combats we could earn our freedom. Now, the baldrics and the silver coins sewn into those accessories made immediate sense. Crixus was flanked by four warriors who were to be our main trainers in the various arts of the arena and a lovely woman who I later learned was the wife of Crixus.
Crixus then inspected the prisoners, with apparent approval, until reaching the end of the line, where he found a slight man named Narder Bailey. The exchange was something along the lines of:
Crixus: What did you do before?
Narder: I was a kennelmaster, my Lord.
Crixus: My Lord? I am not a Lord. I am your master!
Narder: Yes master.
Crixus: Can you fight?
Narder: If I must master.
Crixus: Go arm yourself.
Crixus pointed at a large pile of wooden weapons and shields. Narder did as he was told and gingerly picked up a wooden gladius and a scutum. Crixus sauntered over and grabbed a wooden sword.
Crixus pointed his sword at Narder.
Crixus: Defend yourself.
Narder was shaking almost uncontrollably and held one shaky arm out with the gladius. Narder looked on the edge of tears. Crixus took a lackadaisical swipe towards Narder. Narder jumped a full five feet backwards.
Crixus: Defend yourself!
Crixus again took a half-hearted sword cut at Narder. Narder again leapt five feet backwards, tumbling on his rear. Narder jumped up and dusted himself off.
Crixus: That’s enough of this.
Crixus motioned at the large trapdoor and a warrior stepped forward with a key and unlocked the sizable portal. Two warriors roughly handled Narder directly in front of the exposed pit.
Crixus: Now you have to defend yourself. No jumping back this time.
Crixus again swung his wooden sword and Narder again jumped back - directly into the open pit. There was a brief, echoing cry of surprise followed by the distinctive crunching sound of broken bones and thud of flesh.
Crixus turned and shrugged and threw his sword back towards the pile of weapons. “Who the hell bought him Lucilla?” Crixus asked the attractive woman. She responded with a quick glance up and shrugged her shoulders.
*****
Following the unfortunate demise of Narder, we were all instructed to choose weapons from the pile. I chose a shield and a stout piece of lumber fashioned into a long sword. Once so armed a group of goblins were led out to the courtyard. One of the trainers announced that we would all be matched against a goblin to prove our worthiness of training. We all were successful in defeating the goblins.
I feared that my outstanding combat skills and excellence in melee had so far outshone my fellow prisoners that I might be promoted directly to gladiator. Cursing my physical genius in conflict, I realized if my training were cut short I might not have the opportunity to escape this place.
A few of the other prisoners had done nearly as well as I in the combats. The barbarian brothers had dispatched their foes with ease and another prisoner demonstrated solid fighting skills, but I was surprised by the ineptitude of Thock, the half-breed orc. Thock was an imposing figure, but once loosed in combat he was clearly incompetent. His swings were mighty, but the goblin effortlessly dodged them. It was even more shocking to see a couple of the goblin’s blows were taking a toll on Thock. Thock finally connected and put the goblin down, but the display was so sad I was embarrassed for him.
During my combat my halfling cook friend was watching furtively from the edge of the courtyard. I gave my erstwhile ally a subtle salute, which he returned in kind. As so often happens, the little person was enamoured with me.
Following our fights we were being escorted back to the cells. One of the guards motioned for me to come with him on a different path. Some of the other prisoners grumbled mightily about me being singled out. I was half expecting this: Invariably, my great skills and general excellence above the rest would land me an audience where I would be promoted before my companions. It is a price I often pay in life for my naturally superior physical and mental abilities. As we passed into a dim room, and my eyes adjusted, a rush of relief flooded into my body as I had been led into a bathing chamber. Instructions from the guard were unnecessary as I joyfully washed myself and soaked in the joys of a true bath. All too soon, I was summoned out of the bath and escorted back to my cell.
*****
Following a rest we were once again led out to the courtyard where it was announced we would undergo training. The pace of the training session was invigorating, but rigorous. When it was my turn with one of the trainers I asked him if Crixus ever let a gladiatorial slave buy their freedom. He replied explaining that one must win five combats. I replied that I might be able to deliver a substantial amount of money if Crixus might entertain such a proposal. Now, I knew perfectly well it was unlikely my estranged family would bail me out, and truth be told, I did not want them to. However, I needed time to think and find a way out of this mess.
My training partner contemplated what I had told him and then explained that the financial expert was actually the wife of Crixus, Lady Lucilla. Would she entertain such a proposal I inquired. I would not burden her with an audience I quickly explained, I just wanted to send her missive to explain my proposal. The trainer thought for a moment and then said he would send pen and paper to me for the message after training. Once again my charm and subtle manners had won the day.
*****
Following the training my fellow prisoners and I were separated into two groups by the trainers. Then Crixus appeared and announced the final test for our groups would be in the morning. The two groups would be pitted against each other in mortal combat to determine who would win their baldrics. My group consisted of myself, the feline creature, Shen, a half-elf who used a quarterstaff in combat, Thock, the near-blind, half-breed orc, and a seedy-looking elf. The other group had some decent members including the huge northern warriors, the highly skilled fighter and a couple of others.
It was clear that the trainers had divided the group as evenly as possible given my overwhelming talents.However, what they had overlooked is that the contest was one-on-one combat. Clearly, I was going to win, but the rest of my group was going to have a rough time. I could see the fear in their eyes. I knew I had to save these people.
We headed back to the cells. This time it was just our “team” going back to the cells. I am not sure where they took the other warriors. Back at the cell we agreed we had to come up with a way to escape. Preferably we would make a break during dinner or when we were being transported between the locations.
That night at dinner the halfling chef told us the best way out. He told us if we could figure out a way to dive down the pit in the central plaza the trainers would assume we had died. He also mentioned something about saving his sister and some gem, but I really did not pay much attention beyond the possibility of escape. Then, Shen piped up that he had a dweomer called “feather fall” that he could cast as we fell that would bring us down slowly and gently.
I quickly told my companions my plan. I would distract the regular gladiators and guards while the seedy-looking elf and my feline-like companion furtively left the room and went out to the courtyard and picked the lock of the pit and flung the doors open for our escape. I performed my part of the ploy perfectly ands soon had the guards and others in rapt attention with my tale of great riches. The feline creature and elf snuck out and after a few moments.
An alarm cry sounded from out on the courtyard and soon the elf and my feline-like companion returned. The guards in the dining room were brought to action and I had to make a decision. I bravely led the group running out into the courtyard, directed the pit doors to be opened, which the feline had failed to do. As our group was on the edge of the pit guards were coming at us from all directions. As they closed in, we jumped...
*****
As all five of us dropped into the pit plunging to certain doom, the half-elf invoked his spell and we floated gently down and landed on a pile of corpses, bones, and junks.
Everyone kept absolutely still. We were about 400 feet below our pursuers and although they were out of earshot, we all played dead. After a few moments, the trapdoor above us slammed shut. I said a prayer and cast a light. We rummaged around the corpse/junk pile and found a few usable items. We also discovered we were not in a terminal pit, but instead an underground complex. There were four rough-hewn passages leading away from our landing spot.
Footprints and disturbed dust were found to lead down one of the passages and we quickly established a marching order. The feline convinced the group that he should lead a fair distance ahead of the party to scout. Having the feline lead the group armed with only a bag of sling bullets seemed foolish to me. I held my tongue though. Afterall, I hoped like a canary in a mine, tragedy might befall the feline first.
After a short distance there was a loud sound up ahead and the feline came rushing pell-mell back to the group. He explained that a large group was coming our way and described the sounds of their conversation. Someone explained it sounded like draconic. We all quickly took up defensive positions.
*****
The four kobolds wandered directly into our ambush. The fighting was fast and furious. The feline was struck a couple of times and was heavily wounded. The half-elf, Shen was proving invaluable as magical bolts sprung from his fingertips gutting one kobold and badly maiming another. Even the Half-orc Thock had some value in this combat as he knocked one of the humanoids out with a wooden weapon. The wounded kobold was quickly killed and its remaining companion ran away.
We secured the living Kobold with bindings and brought it back to consciousness. After a very one-sided parley, the Kobold agreed to show us the way out. He warned us that the Kobold warren he came from was an obstacle in our path. He proposed that if we killed the Kobold chief he could take over the tribe. If we allowed him to recruit warriors he would also make sure there were only about ten other Kobolds defending the lair. He also implored us not to kill the females and young.
I was trusting a half-orc, feline creature, an elf, and a half-elf with my life already. Why not trust a Kobold too? You undoubtedly are having great sympathy with my plight at this point. A warranted emotional reaction to be sure.
The Kobold led us to an area outside the domain of his warren. We were to wait a few hours as he led as many of the warriors away from the place as possible. Then after our rest we would launch our attack!
