Parvin was then sent to train at Imperial Ar in the Crimson Spear War College under the protection of Magnus’ consort, the Assassin, Sleen. He learned how to wield all weapons inside the Stadium of Blades. Additionally he learned to fashion weapons out of readily available materials. Bosk dung bombs, may have been his favorite…
Parvin runs off to the docks at Nyundo, clumbsily carrying a shovel, and two buckets. I jump in the boat and nod to the drunk captain, “Crimson, please Master.”
Parvin arrives off the boat with a shovel an two buckets, I smile at the Masters and Mistress, a tooth obviously missing, “Tal, Masters, Mistress.” The shovel clanks on the stone. Master Sleen had suggested bosk dung bombs, and the slave is going to follow through on that.
Brigit Silverfall waves her hand in the air dismissively, at the conversation and turns to see who greets them.
Brigit Silverfall: if you want I’ll meet you at the arena if you want to get a head start.
Parvin never expects any attention and turns around a few times so the Mistress can see me. “Masters, Mistress, I’m here to collect some supplies.” I chuckle, and tap the shovel on the stones, “May I pass, Masters, Mistress? The bosk await.”
Kamchak Azov shrugs and nods to the slave “get to it then”
Jonas Kozlowski nods to the boy
Parvin: “Thank you Masters, I wish you well.” I run off with the buckets and shovel, tripping up the stairs on the way to the plains.
Parvin takes a tarn to the college and takes a long run into the woods, over by the panther camp I spot a herd of bosk, trying to be quiet I approach them and put down a bucket. Almost gagging at the smell of the nasty bosk. It’s not long until I find a bosk pie. Scooping it up with a shovel and putting it into the bucket, a few files swarm over it as I take their baby maggots away. Clomping around through the grass, a bosk sees me. “Uh oh.” I step back a few steps and, ‘SQUISH!’, the feeling of the nasty shit through my toes, I lift up my foot and almost puke. “Ughh.. Dam bosk!” I rub my bare foot off on the grass and scoop up the rest of the pie and put it in the bucket.
Parvin holds the bucket out as far as possible, creeping around, now much more careful of where i step. I find a few more patties and fill the second bucket, carrying them back towards the college, heavy and cumbersome, stinking like dung, I chuckle wondering if the slutty slave girl would beg to be fucked now. I was dumb and put the shovel over my shoulder, the remanants of what was left on there fall down my back, “uuughghghhhhhhaaahhhyuckk” I walk along and head out to find some dry sa tarna to add to the dung to bind and keep the flame going on the bombs.
Brigit Silverfall: ahh now I see you thrall
Jonas Kozlowski “Thanks Lady”
Parvin wanders past the Master’s and Mistress, holding two full buckets of bosk dung, foot dirty and stinking like shit, I smile, dumb, “Aii, Mistress, Tal.” I hold out the buckets, “Soon to be bosk dung bombs” with a big dumb smile on my face.
Parvin thinks it might be best to walk along, I head out to the plains to collect the straw, “I wish you well Masters.” Coming upon the field I put down the buckets and collect the dry the sa tarna. I return with the grain under each arm and use the shovel to form a patty mixing in the sa tarna with the bosk pie. I laugh to myself, wondering if this would please the Master. He did, of course suggest it.
[11:28] Gorean Meter 3.2: fire hit you with flaming bosk dung (14%) – strike type: trap
[11:28] Gorean Meter 3.2: fire hit you with flaming bosk dung (7%) – strike type: trap
Parvin: I remove a flint from my pocket, one I was given turns ago for making and serving an edible dinner to a Master. Picking up a rock I strike the flint with it, a few sparks jump and land on the pile of bosk dung, it ignites perfectly as the Master said it would. “Muhaha fire!” Not realizing how high the flame would get my eyebrows get singed and hair gets burned, “Ouccchhh fuck”. Gathering my supplies and leaving the bosk dung burning at the edge of the water. I run off with my newest weapon and to find a bath….
Showing promise in fighting, the slave bested his friends and beasts in contests. Later given the freedom to walk among the free of the great city, new to the collar he made a few mistakes. Got a whipping for furring an un-belted kajira, and had two digits of his finger chopped off for touching the leg of another slave. Parvin’s lute playing ended and his career as a fighting slave began.
After healing Parvin was sent on a campaign to raze Vonda. With sword in hand, he fought along side the warriors, prepared to die to honor his Master and Imperial Ar. The city was destroyed, a high caste free woman was devoured by a kur. Parvin respected life and set free a warrior he had bested. It was the Ubar of Ar’s Commander, Sleen, who offered the slave a finger of a deceased warrior. Aware of his position in collar, he refused to take the finger of the master who had died in battle and burned the body in effigy to honor the warrior.