The Books of Renly.
Chapter 2: The Spoils of Battle

Studying these scriptures of the lands brought a different kind of man to the attention of the realm, it was first written that the Nomey family upon discovering their new squander believed to be a battle fought and lost by both sides as a young soldier of one of the Nomeys enemies men was found, he was not yet thirty by the look of him his short dark hair was matted with mud, his bare skinny face was one that looked not to have seen many battles, his body was skinny with hardly any muscle upon it, standing no more than six feet if he was to stand before them, his feet bound in leather shoes fashioned from oxhide with no banner colours or house sigil to be seen about his body as his clothes had all but been burnt. Poking him as he lay there the Nomeys had awoken him seeing in his grey eyes as he looked around asking what had happened. Now clear to them he was dazed with no memory of the battle around him and what exactly had occurred, looking to be mostly uninjured surrounded by burnt out ground and crispy, mangled bodies of battle. Taking to the rules of the land that any man of no colours or noble birth could be claimed as the property of the lord or general in servitude they claimed their right to their spoils of the war. His captors the Nomey’s being little more than breeders of fighting creatures, while seeing no real use for such a scrawny looking man, they had decided to toss him in their cages as food for their starved and hungry creatures. Lashing his hands into chains and attaching him and a few of the other survivors found on the edges of the battlefield to their horses as they searched for saleable weapons and spoils. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ Findɴovel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

In the ages before our little adventure the Nomeys had power and wealth in these lands, through a love of the pits, a wager or two and a little bad luck with fighters not to mention the less than strong or combat worthy creatures, they now capture and breed large wild creatures for the pits, using whatever they could ensnare and scrounge out of the dark forest to feed their creatures. Their once lavish outlook reduced to now looking more like men of the wilds draped in bits of shiny engraved metals poking out the layers of furry hides skinned from hounds and dead animals, teeth and claws boiled then bound by strips of leather strung together all draping over barely fed and decayed muscled men, long matted beards showing from under horned helmets decorated with precious stones and carvings of the families houses sat crooked atop of a head of mattered and poorly managed hair. Not much is known about how many of the family still exist only each of the remaining houses in the Nomey’s family is usually identified by the sigil of a two horned helm was usually paired with a picture of the very creatures they breed, now lived scattered across these lands.

The family had almost been forced to live this way due in some part to the creatures not dwelling or breeding well in captivity together, creatures of the dark forests rarely like having cell mates or even a challenger on a sparse offered meal by the captors. The Nomeys thought when they tossed our friend bound into their cage that he did not have a hope, with no real way of fighting off the horde of which they had captured in the dark forest only a few days before they had set out to trade with the local villages for food. His hands had been bound he was also weakened by the long journey on foot back to the Nomey’s camp and the battle he had apparently taken part in. What happened next was to change their luck when questioned about the change all they could declare in their house scriptures was he somehow had made his way amongst the creatures fighting and killing them only using the narrowest slits of light beaming through the pens dark and damp walls to see by. His bare hands was all the weapons he had to slaughter the entire horde of hungry beasts, no man could have seen how he did it, except for when the Nomeys returned mere hours later they found him lounging around a well prepared campfire cooking a hunk of meat from the hind legs of one of their biggest hogs now turning and sizzling as it roasted, with its now lifeless corpse skinned and diced, its hide stretched out with its own bones dring by the fireside. Their newly captured man was calm and relaxed almost as if he was a child who simply stumbled into the abundant food left scattered there, unaware of what had just taken place around him, if it wasn’t for the spatters of blood which covered him from head to toe you could not even have suspected him of doing it.

The Nomey’s now found themselves empty of giant hogs and Catgar’s to send into battle to win what little coin they could muster from them and with no choice but to bet on this newfound fighter of sorts winning a fight or two in the pits. The need had found them having to leave behind all what they had built here hidden in the dark forest, they gathered up what they had that could be sold or used as collateral in a wager or two. They left their camp in favour of the roads of the realm dragging their remaining fighters and bound slaves behind their carted cage now holding their new prized fighter, visiting towns and their fighting pits in an attempt to win back their hord and riches.

The first stop was in a small town known to the Nomeys for its iron weapons and its inhabitants for making fine jewels that would be sold to traveling merchants to take to the lords and their wives to be sold. The top prize for the fight was often a statue or other trinket they could sell on the road to make some coin for food and weapons for their fighter if he was good enough, the pit fight was only a few days away and they had to march the men hard on their journey there to make it on time to enter their fighters. Arriving in the town the Nomeys placed their new fighter and two of their slaves into the pit fight for that night. The owner of this pit was a short fat balding man ill kept with a manner of a hog, spitting and belching every few seconds as he sat upon a chair of bones beside the pit made from the losers of previous pit battles. Fussed over by women with little else to their name as they fed him food and wine looking like a lord who had found himself without his fort and home. They agreed with him to have their fighters take place in the fight if they won they would take the prize if they lost they would have to give him 3 slaves in exchange since they had no coin to barter with. Begrudgingly agreeing to the terms of the pit master only hours before the fight was due to begin they had not even checked what they would be fighting against, the need for them to get food and move onto better pits driving them.

With no coin to spare they chose two slaves and our friend to enter the pit that night leading them down the steps and into the gate, shoving them inside as they unbound their hands ready to fight. They spent the next hour watching as a small crowd gathered to watch the fight as the sun set in the sky, gamblers could be seen pointing and laughing at them as time went by. The hour of the fight was upon them before long the pit master taking a torch from the back of his chair thrust it into a gully of liquid surrounding the pit which ignited illuminating the pit as it burst into flame. The fire set alight two ropes holding closed another gate of the far side of the pit from where they entered burning through the rope, the gate fell when the rope finally gave to the weight of the gate and the fire. From the darkened cage came a catgar charging and pouncing onto one of the slaves, now pinned to the floor with the catgar perched on top of him. The beast was about four feet high with piercing green eyes, with four large teeth protruding from its snouted jaw filled with razor sharp teeth that could be seen by all as it snarled flaring its lips at the men inside its home. Its long claws buried into the back of the slave as he tried to crawl from under it, that was about all the pain the slave could handle when he passed out in terror, the slave had barely passed out before the the catgar was back on its feet chuffing as it circled our two fighters stood back to back. Its sandy brown fur shimmering in the firelight as it passed the torches and flames, the pitmaster laughing with glee at the fighters as they were frozen in terror, throwing them a small wood axe into the pit claiming “there is a weapon you can slay it with” met with roars of laughter by the crowd.

The catgar coming to a halt to sniff the weapon tossed into the pit looking up it flairs and snarls again before lunging forward swiping its large claws out at them catching the slave across his chest and our fighter’s arm in the process. Stumbling backwards our fighter moves in front of his injured companion his eyes darting about the pit looking for a way to kill it, before he could complete any sort of plan the catgar chose to charge at them, our fighter had the reaction to move aside trying to grab his companion but his hand simply slipped over the blood leaving him in line of the catgar. Taking the opportunity he ran for the axe swiping it from the floor immediately launching it into the catgar’s shoulder from across the pit, it halts its attack on the screaming slave half mauled upon the floor making for our fighter full of rage hobbling as it ran towards him. Our fighter with the speed and thought pattern so fast quickly dodges its advance whipping the embedded axe from its side, as it rolls off in pain the two of them locked into a gaze as they circled each other once more the catgar letting off a few swipes of his claws causing our fighter to take a step back each time. Our fighter did not have to make the first move as the catgar launched for him once again, falling to the floor using his feet to flip the beast it landed on the floor sliding to the wall. Jumping back to it’s feet and charges again except this time it wobbled and stumbled the further it ran coming crashing to the floor only a few feet from the fighter down its side you could see the puncture wounds of the pit walls as it panted hard for a few seconds more before coughing and falling silent, the gathered crowd moaned shaking their heads walking away from the pits. The Nomeys had been open mouthed at the whole battle watching their fighter feeling a joy washing over them their shock turned to laughter as they had won for once.

With each fight that passed with an almost ease and grace as they witnessed their new fighter dispatch of all the small beasts, fighters and creatures set upon him. Many seasons came and went as they travelled on their journeys snaking their way northwards, with many battles under his belt he felt an air of confidence in his combat abilities as his knowledge of them grew. These small victories within themselves are not ones worthy of a legendary tale except this one has a twist as one day coming to a halt in the clearing on the northern dark forest road on their way to a new fighting pit created by the Hatch Clans of the north, the prize offered to the winner of an epic battle which was to take place there was so rich in its prize many could not believe what was about to take place.

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