These are made to follow Raphtalia's core story if The shield hero had never found her. Giving her the growth over time to bring her to a powerful warrior while remaining a slave.
(Fate F1)
Innocent child-Captured
The sun was just rising as her small form washed on the rocky beach. Small hands clutched the stones as the waves threatened to drag her back out. Her pink eyes could barely see the people approaching, though their chuckles she would not forget. Fading in and out as they pulled her from the rocks. Tossing her heavily into a wagon, her arms bound behind her back. She could only groan as her consciousness faded.
She was one of seven Demi-humans who washed up that day, one of only three alive. She was unluckily found by greedy thieves who only saw how much they could sell her for. Taking the young child to the city far away from her homeland. She coughed and shivered in the cool fall air. Curling into herself to keep warm as, the cart rocked and rolled. She cried and fought against her binds to try and get free. For two days, she went without food, the men giving her small drinks from a waterskin but nothing more. The sound of people caught her ears, so many people's voices merging as one loud sound after the silence on the road. She was dragged out by her shoulders and forced to walk with the men as they guided her to another.
"I got a fresh one." The older of the men who captured her smiled, patting her head. She looked up at the man dressed in silk, his wagon full of cages, pulled by three large birds. Each cage marked with a price holding different creatures within. He knelt down, studying her with a scowl. "Please.. Let me go home" she pleaded with the new man, hoping wishing he would let her go.
"She's young..but in decent health I will give you fifteen silvers for her" The man offered "NOO!" She screamed out, her smaller form struggling, pulling fruitlessly against the men who held her. "PLEASE JUST LET ME GO! PLEASE!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, tears falling down her pale face. "SILENCE!" One of the men snapped a foot, slamming into her stomach, dropping the young child with a painful cough. She shook and whimpered as she tried to regain her breath, and the haggling continued like she wasn't even there. In the end, she cost the slave twenty silver to buy. She placed it up for sale at forty-five silvers.
The Demi-human's hair ruffled, her peasant's dress torn and tattered, the white under-tunic stained a dingy brown from dirt. She held herself as she cried in the back corner of her cell. Round ears low, she was scared of a terrified child who had just watched her parents be eaten alive and now sold to slavery. Her bright pink eyes looked out of her crate, fearing her fate.
Raphtalia:
██████▒▒▒▒ 60% Health
███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 30% to Level 3
Age Range - Child -
Slave Status: Uncrested - Recent capture
Stat Modifier: Fatigued | Hungry | Significant Bruise to the abdomen
(Fate F2)
Shield Hero original Introduction concept
In the darker side of the city, the dark alleyways lead to the seeder side of town in the shadows of the larger, more lavish buildings. Rested a pretentious slaving tent. The large multi-colored tent belonged to a man who dressed in fine silks. His tent seemed to be one of the largest and most lavished in the small market dotted by scruffy, dangerous-looking people and skimpily dressed women, some of whom vanished into alleyways with men while pocketing gold coins.
Within the large tent, at the opening a desk was placed a circle with a crest on the ground for marking slaves sold and several crates of smaller items for sale, including chains, leashes, lashes, and even a few clubs. Behind that, the mains tent opened up.
The stock area of the slaver's tent held stagnant air. The scent of bodies and bile filled the space. Beasts of all ranks are mostly monstrous creatures and vicious animals. A few human slaves' eyes hollow and gaze off into nowhere, broken and defeated with the years
Of abuse and training. A child freshly added to the man's care among the rows and rows of cages, a bit out of place amongst the others.
The girl, a Demi-human rare and unwelcome in these parts, was small and in poor health. Pink eyes dull with pain as the child sat in the back of her cage. Trying not to draw attention to herself. A tiny spark in her gaze. She was hurt and weak but not broken. The child clutched her chest with small hands as her breath came heavy. Metal cuffs rested on their neck and wrists, though nothing was attached to them. Her small form was covered only in a burlap tunic that hung off her shoulders. Her brown hair was ragged and unwashed, and the fur on her ears and tail were ruffled and dull. A cough rattled her form as she sat alone in her cage.
A scroll hung to the left of the girl's cage, and information about her was given.
Demi-human Tanuki - Raccoon Dog.
Answers To: Raphtalia
One previous owner - Sold due to ill-health
Price: 50 Silvers
The short information on the scroll and the low price marked the girl as a throw-away slave open for anyone to claim. She priced it to sell quickly. The child was small and weak. Though a Demi-human, the species was known to age with experience.
Raphtalia:
███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 30% Health
█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 10% to Level 5
Age Range - Child -
Slave Status: Uncrested up for sale
Stat Modifier: Emaciated | Flea Infested | Infected with Pnamonia | Fatigued from illness.
==================
(Fate F3)
The Defiant Teen
A survivor. The Tanuki Demi-human had survived an illness that killed most in her condition. Beating the odds, her XP raised drastically, as did her desire to fight for what she needed. A chill in the morning air whispered vague threats of storms returning. The water was still dripping from last night's rain. The smell of mildew only added to the scent of dirty bodies, bad breath, and stagnant air. It was nearly unbearable every time it rained. How long had she been in here? She couldn't even recall. Her eyes had grown used to the darkness, Her form no longer that of the young child she once was. No, she had survived much; she had gained levels and age in doing so. She formed into a lovely young woman under all the dirt and grime. Luckily, the slaver did not notice, and customers ignored her existence.
She sat in the corner as she always did, her tail curled around her form as she rested on the cold metal floor. Her head rested on her knees as she sat. Her physique was underweight; she was fed enough for the child's body, not the young woman she was becoming. Brown hair cascaded down her back, resting on the dingy sack that acted as a dress scantly covering her form.
The creatures screamed and raged as the sound of footsteps approached. A buyer, it was the only time two people entered, the only time Raphtalia sat as she always did. Part of her wanted a master, enjoyed the freedom being owned would give her at least she could leave this room, this cage. But what if what she faced was worse? She could never forget that possibility. For that reason, she shrank further to the back. Pink eyes offered a stubborn glare to anyone who dared check her cage.
A warning she was not broken, That she would not break easy, that they should pick someone else. She knew it was a long shot. Her cage was low, placed under a hellhound. The creature snapped and gnawed on the bars. The metal shavings the fell told her it was a rather vicious one. She had come to see it as her guard dog over the last few months. It was allowing her to remain forgotten. Her stomach growled loudly, causing her to shift in her cage. Annoyed at the sudden sound. The tweens body is that of a twelve year old girl. Just on the cusp of adolescence. Her face already starting to grow less rounded and more mature. Her form was taller than it once was; she could no longer stand up fully in her cage, left in a constant crouch, unable to fully stretch in her limited room.
Raphtalia:
███████▒▒▒ 70% Health
█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 10% to Level 9
Age Range - Tween-
Slave Status: Uncrested up for sale
Stat Modifier: Emaciated | Flea Infested |
(Fate F4)
Unbroken, Unsold A punishment (Teen)
The time had come for the yearly auction, A massive event where Merchants came from around the country to sell their slaves and learn from each other how best to break a slave.
The hype missed by the souls who would be the merchandise. SilverSun Keep. Once a noble seaside castle, Now hosting such a dark affair. Representatives arrived from the various slaver groups. Carts were placed in favorable positions, outlining the slag stone walls. Ensuring they and the slaves they brought would be visible. Some set up large tents with curtains separating the areas. This is for testing the wares before purchase for a price.
Within these walls, The unbroken slaves would face an ordeal. Found to be too spirited. If they were too willful, they would be punished. These slaves placed in the center on one of four wooden stages.
The human stage, the Demi-human stage, The anthro stage, and the monster stage. This is where a "slave breaker" would display ways. to force a slave into submission without having to rely only on the crest for obedience. For the masters who enjoyed a hands-on approach.
One such unbroken slave, a bright-eyed Demi-human slave, stood bound with a collection of others. Her light-auburn hair cascaded down her slender back. Her form cut an hourglass figure, still growing into a full-fledged woman. The teen Demi-human stood boldly refusing to bow her head, to shrivel away with fear. The pale-skinned Demi-human dressed A black tunic that hung off her shoulders. The slave crest visible on her chest marks her as previously owned. Her ownership scroll is one of many in the lockbox on the stage. Her hands were bound to a chain that locked seven slaves together. Her ears and tail marked her a rare type of Demi-human outside of the villages to the east. A Tanuki. A price sign around her neck marked her as costing 50 gold to buy, one of the more expensive of those on the stage.
The woman's pink eyes slid across the growing audience. Seething at the smiles she saw the happy whispers passed between them. Ready to enjoy the torment they would endure for entertainment. This stage was for slaves that held strength.
Three men approached the stage heavy boots rattling the freshly built wood platform.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Demi-human stage, these human-looking beasts have high pain tolerance, and low intelligence they take a special hand to train, We will show you that even the most stuborn can be broken!" One of the men called to the audience. A lie but would these masters care? Probably not. Without warning one of the men from behind with the flick of his wrist slammed a whip into the back of one of the slaves the fox-demi-human screamed painfully as the smell of blood tainted the air, dripping and falling as the blade encrusted whip splattered the neighboring slave with blood.
"A new whip! Single-tailed allows for focused power. We have stiched in small spikes into the first foot to ensure maximum and lasting pain. With that, the show had begun.
Raphtalia:
██████████ 100% Health
███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 30% to Level 16
Age Range - Teen-
Slave Status:Crested to auction master.
Stat Modifier: Recently healed for a full health showcase | Flea Infested |
(Fate F5)
Thrown to the fighting pits (Young Adult)
Sold into the fighting pits, Bored with her, and after biting the arm of the only person who had agreed to buy her. Landed this Demi-human into the fighting pits to face execution for entertainment.
She was purchased as cannon fodder, the opening act of death and carnage to whet the appetite of the spectators of the mighty coliseum. The young Tanuki woman was not of the level to be here. But she wasn't worth enough to sell She was not obedient enough by the slavers to be sold to a brothel. Instead, her fate was to be death.
Armored in light leathers that hugged her shoulder and arms, embraced her chest, and formed an x across her cleavage. Her mid-drift was free of armor, and only tiny leather shorts covered her hips, a single small blade sheathed upon the belt that held up her shorts, and matching leather grieves gripped her legs from knee to ankle. Her bare feet met the hot sand as the small demi-human was pressed into the bright sunlight. It was the first she had seen since she was brought into the dark cave system of the arena that made up her prison-like new home.
The once beige sand was dyed a murky red by the blood of the many souls who had fallen within. The soft sand had weapons stabbed into the ground for any who wished to use them. The sound of the fans was deafening as she stood outside the gate of her side of the arena, the metal door slamming shut behind her, sealing her within. The scantily clad woman stood, her brown hair flaring in the salty winds; pink eyes scanned the walls 10 feet high, and covered with nobility, crime lords, wealthy merchants, and any who could afford a seat to watch the action, along with their guests.
A stone pillar rested in the center of the ring; A bat Demi-human stood upon the fifteen-foot-tall white pillar. His wings hugged his sides. The pillar lined with chains and shackles was no doubt used for punishment when not used as an announcer's stadium. His voice, enhanced by his abilities, rang out to the audience clearly.
"Welcome, Welcome. Today, we introduce Raphtalia A Demi-Human. Her kind, long-lived race, the question we present to you today is will her long life make it to see tomorrow, or will she before you all befall her fate to the fighting pits? Give a hearty welcome to Raphtalia of the Sword! She will face A trial of the orc today!" The man called to the glee of the audience.
"And here he comes! Please welcome the blood razor her first obstacle as always she gets one hour. Final bet's closed! Will she be dead or alive!" The man called out to another round of cheering. It was then her eyes shifted to the opposing door as a seven-foot-tall orc stepped out growling. Scars lined his brackish green skin. It had been in the pits for a long while. She had never seen a full-grown Orc so close Raphtalia, in fact, had never been in true combat this way. Fear swelled within her as pink eyes held wide. She didn't want to die here. This was supposed to be her death. Another attack of the club she pressed the sword forward to block it. The force knocked her into one of the walls, the blade cutting into her stomach. She grasped blood sliding over her pale skin as she struggled to breathe. The cut shallow the blade's edge glancing at her when it was forced into her.
Heavy footsteps approached, and she crawled out of the way as the club slammed into the stone. She used the blade to cut the arm of the orc as he tried to withdraw on her feet. The pains she endured before gave her an advantage. She could take a hit. The Orc growled, jerking his arm up and pulling the blade from her hands it stuck in the creature's bone. She skittered away as the creature snarled and screeched as it pulled out the blade and threw it. Blood spurting from it's arm. She had to find something else. She held her stomach as she moved. The announcer called the scene above them with disgusting enjoyment for the pain the fighters were enduring.
He refocused, coming for her. She pulled the small knife from her pocket, hand shaking as she held it out, creeping once more towards another sword a smaller blade meant for speed more than force. The Orc wouldn't allow it this time it charged, moving to kick her. A stupid plan came to her mind she jumped gripping his leg as it slammed into her already tender stomach. Grabbing his leg against her body prevented most of the force from hitting her. The blade in one hand as he fell off balance with her body weight added. With her small knife in hand she stabbed the creature in the stomach as blood and bile seeped out the creature howled as she stabbed once more. He hit at her fists slamming into her back pain rattled her body as she continued stabbing and pulling. Tears in her eyes as blood covered her arms and hands. She hated this. She didn't want to kill. The strikes fell weaker, and weaker until the creature only gurgled in pain. The creature lay dead under her as she kept stabbing her body, shaking in panic. She didn't want to die. She had no idea the fight was over. She was unskilled and unrefined in combat but she had won.
Raphtalia:
██████▒▒▒▒ 60% Health
███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 30% to Level 22
Age Range - Teen-
Slave Status: Crested to Fighting rink leader - Revious
Stat Modifier:
Slice to her stomach, bruises across her form| Flea Infested |
(Fate F6)
Resting in the pits.
The fighting pits, Once a volcano which collapsed eons ago, and mined hollow. , Dwarves, the island's original residents, maintain the tunnels to this day, those of them who remain anyway. , White sands dyed a dark maroon hue from the years of blood that had been spilled. The round pit in the dead center of the island offered weapons by either entrance, where the fighters would emerge.
The only way in or out of this circular chaos was through a labyrinth of tunnels that the guards kept secret, permanently stationing themselves and blocking paths that were not needed for the task. Spectators went one way after entering. Those who would be battling went another going into the housing areas under the stands. The rooms had been turned to cells, lit by lantern oil much like everything else was earned through combat. That or given by the arena master or by trading or stealing from others. The inner stone mazes in truth, were simply circles and stairs that spiraled to the different layers. The shape of the mountain adds to the complexity, and the darkness toys with the mind.
The prisoners lived together within two levels, beasts on lower cell floors bound in cages, some alone the cages mounted on wheels to be rolled to the pit door and released. While others were simply contained in groups kept in pods of six. With three individual rooms in the pods. Beasts in pairs were often sent to fight together, it believed the closeness of keeping them together made them fight more aggressively and amusingly in the pits, wanting to protect each other.
Humans, demons, and prize fighters. To the upper floor, one level below the guests. They each had small rooms of their own, an area to wander, to train and a shared meal zone. Demi-humans? Well the right to be in the nicer rooms of the upper level was earned in bloodshed. Such a right only happened when you were among the top nine demi-humans.
A young woman, seemingly 20 years old Demi-human. Her pink eyes closed as she reclined against the wall in her pod in the lower level. Her arms crossed, brown hair cascading down her back two bunches in wooden clips rested on her shoulders. Soft breath pulled from her lips. She was resting, blood dripping from her left shoulder, forming a small pool by her side. A deep wound from today's fight, the only thing left since her shower. Her feminine form was clad in a dingy and thread bere dress that covered her form to the knee. Her feet bare as she reclined. A recent death had left a vacancy in her pod, though she had enjoyed not sharing her room with anyone. She was top dog in this pod. Her form rested facing the single entry to her pod.
The other creatures in her pod are a avian human with sharp claws a binding stone sunk into it's chest to prevent the male from escaping by flying, limiting his flight range to only 20 feet directly above the fighting ring. A female orc who stayed in the room with the avian. A pair of siblings, anthro lion siblings, fought together, the more dominant of the pair held a long red mane of hair, while the other had only soft blond fur around her head.
