Sir Hugh

"To Wear the Throne"

When Kengetar was shoved into the big tent, still muddy and bloody, he was prepared for the worst. When he saw the young girl enter shortly after him, his sense of trepidation grew. But when the naked woman in the tent ordered his shackles to be removed, and his guards to leave, his fear turned to confusion. He looked at the woman, who was apparently some sort of leader to these reavers, and appraised her with his distant, gray gaze.

The woman was enclosed about by what was, by his tribe's standards, decadent opulence. The large tent was carpeted and hung with tapestries. There were slaves to prepared to pour hot water into a private bath, within reach of which was rich food and drink. By all conventional wisdom the person who dwelt in such surroundings could only be soft and weak. But that's not what he saw.

The woman languorously lying in the tub was muscled and scarred, and like Kengetar, her body was marked according to her peoples' customs. While her marks were different from the Sedents', they were similar enough that Kengetar could still read them. The marks around her forehead, nose, and lips stated that she was of a warrior caste, much like Kengetar.

Kengetar's analysis was halted, when the woman impetuously ordered him to take his clothes off! His hackles raised at being ordered to do anything by someone who was not his elder. Immediately, Kengetar began calculating ways he might take his revenge. His first thought was to attack her and attempt to drown her in the tub, but he realized that even if he somehow succeeded, he would not be able to stop the remaining guard from slashing the neck of the girl, then slaying him in turn.

So, he realized that he would have to play along for now. He turned to the young girl and ran his hand down over his eyes in a mimic gesture, while mothing the word "close." Once he was sure the girl had shut her eyes tight, he turned back to face this foreign woman and removed his clothes.

Since the Sedents lived in the far South, where the climate was often warm, its people had no call to wear much clothing. Kengetar only had a loincloth and a pair of soft leather shoes, after his piecemeal armor had been taken from him while he was unconscious. After removing these bits, Kengetar looked straight ahead, with his arms by his sides. He would not show any vulnerability to this woman, even in his sorry state. He deliberately avoided looking at her perfect chest or her entrancing eyes so that his body would not betray him. His chest and arms were lined with the mementos of previous trials, whose scarflesh were ghostly white against his already pale skin. Where the scars were absent, his skin had remained smooth and unblemished.

"To Wear the Throne"

Barely conscious, Kengetar found himself being forced to his feet and led away from the huddled circle of wounded captives by a large Northerner. As he was brought unsteadily to his feet, a second Northman locked a pair of iron shackles around his ankles, with a chain and a second pair of shackles ready for his wrists. As he tried to reach down and throw off his imprisoner, the first Northerner grabbed his arms and whispered in his ear words that chilled his blood.

"If you do anything we don't tell you to," he hissed, "anything at all, the children of your rathole village will have their own entrails for gibbets."

Stunned by the threat, Kengetar allowed the shackles to be placed upon him. He was then brought to the rear of one of the invaders' carts and forced to unload their baggage, like the rest of his people who were still standing. It was slow going. Kengetar was still bleary, and each time he dropped something or slowed down, the guard that had been assigned to him would threaten him and smack the backs of his legs with the flat of a sword. But despite his pain and shame, Kengetar refused to show any sign of weakness to his captors, except for the occasional stumble or fall that he was unable to control.

Kengetar remembered that the battle had begun with arrows shot at the Northerners' messengers, but after they had returned with the full horde and broken through the village wall, he and the other bravos tried to retreat back towards the houses. Kengetar had been one of the last to abandon his post however, and was slower than some of his kin, and when a rider overtook him and struck him on the back of his skull with a club, he lost consciousness. Once he had awakened, the battle was already over. Kengetar knew the wound had brought forth blood, but the chains he now wore made it impossible for him to raise his hands and check if it had stopped bleeding. He caught glances around him, and was disgusted by what he saw. The houses were burning, and his people were now chained out in the rain. He saw the treasures of his people being passed around as booty, and their livestock being slaughtered to fatten their destroyers. He heard the weeping of the women and children, and he could very well guess what their fate would be after the invaders tired of them.

After Kengetar had stumbled too many times and dropped too many loads, it became obvious that Kengetar was no longer suited for unloading carts. So Kengetar was then set to the impossible task of finding dry wood for burning on the muddy ground. The chain connecting his wrists and knees forced Kengetar to get down on all fours to grasp through the muck. He still didn't understand what made him special compared to the other captives. He had clearly been set apart from all his kin and the guard that watched him hadn't taken his eyes off him once, when other guards were left in charge of a handful of slaves each. The cold rain dripped down Kengetar's hair and around the contours of his face, hiding his tears. Anger and hatred blazed in his heart. He swore to himself to find a way to escape and free his people. Even the threat of the children's lives didn't hold him back, as he was sure that death would be a more merciful fate for them than whatever these monsters had in store for them.

"To Wear the Throne"

Kengetar

Bravo of the Sedent Tribe Barbarians

Image

Age: 20

Physical Description:

• 5'9", 150#
• Physically fit, strong.
• Inverted triangle body type. Lean and healthy.
• Aloof, pale gray eyes.
• Dark hair, kept uncut and unstyled.
• Various scars.

Personality:

• Independent, impulsive, haughty.
• Cunning, but completely uneducated.
• Very emotional, with bad coping skills. When feeling an extreme emotion, he will bottle it up until he unleashes it in a single outburst.
• Disdainful of those not of his tribe. It was his tribe's custom not to respect any outsider's property, person or laws that they could not enforce.

History:
Kengetar is a young man of the Sedent Tribe Barbarians, who have gone countless generations unconcerned with the rise and fall of the Yalla Republic or any other nation thanks to there remote Southern location. The Sedents are a brutal tribe, and xenophobic to boot. Adulthood in the Sedent Tribe is achieved by ritual tests of pain endurance and participating in raids upon their neighbors. The Sedents are protected from reprisals by their fierce fighting ability as well as their fearsome reputation. Kengetar remains in an awkward stage in life, as he is now considered an adult, but has not yet married or settled into a profession. This is in part because he has not yet performed a deed noteworthy enough for honor, but also because his unfettered emotions have cause elders in his tribe to consider him too impatient for a trade, and too dangerous to be let alone with their daughters.

Lost Mine Of Phandelver (5e D&D)

Hey, can I get in on this? This sounds promising.

Dungeons and Dragons inspired 1x1 RP.

What is your character, exactly? And what setting? Golarion, homebrew, or something else?

DC Universe: Anarchy

Cy-Lok's consciousness travels through the webways of the internet, invisible and aloof. He passes a data packet, filled with malignant software. With a wave of his hand, it is erased. He knows that in the grand scheme it accomplishes nothing, but a blow against Chaos, no matter how small, grants a sense of gratification. But he did not come to battle bits of data. Cy-Lok expands his consciousness further, searching for information as to the whereabouts of the who calls himself "Anarchy."

DC Universe: Anarchy

I'm just not sure of a smooth way for my character to enter the narrative.

DC Universe: Anarchy

Sorry for being so passive, but I'm kind of new at this.

DC Universe: Anarchy

It's IRL stuff. For me, at least.

DC Universe: Anarchy

@mattmanganonMah boi. Robert Venditti said he will make Hope Corgi canon.