------------- Crimson Ludus – Long Way Home

Shargallis was a great warrior, trained by his father, who was trained by his father before him. The line went back four generations, to Tyranis Maximus, a Gladiator from the arenas of Virdus. His story was unique and legendary. And what he had created was new to the face of Arrallon, at least as far as any living being knew.

The Sauragorn had always been lonely, singular, predatory creatures. Outside of their own kind, none knew anything about them. Many of them knew little more about themselves. Their origins were clouded in mystery and lost to the prehistory of the jungle continent of Beotharn, specifically, the dinosaur infested jungles of Awalawa. Sages and great thinkers debated where they came from. Theories abounded of alien visitations, genetic tampering by the Krell followers of Kaimera, and planar gates that brought them from the distant past or the far future. But Saurgorn never cared much for theories. What everyone did know was that the Sauragorn had been spread across the globe by some means, and had no home or nation of their own.

How they bred, how they could find each other, how they could keep the species alive was guess work at best. Many Sauragorn had as much trouble finding their way to each other. And then one, Tyranis, became famous for his escape from the arena and his life as an adventurer. He settled in the swamps of Hellenia and carved out a homestead,… and in time, others came to him. An ancient bloodline of royalty was found, and a new King of the Sauragorn was chosen. And from then on, the Sauragorn had a home. They kept it a closely guarded secret. They kept their royal line, the very fact they had amassed in numbers never before considered possible,… all secrets. And Tyranis’ example was set for all the Sauragorn hatchlings. Go forth and make your mark on the world. Learn from the other races. Then, in the fullness of years, make your way home.

Slathrahl had been a student of Shargallis. He had learned what he could in the swamps, hunting giant bugs and fighting trolls. He had learned the basic skills of the Gladiator. There wasn’t a single weapon he couldn’t use to devastating effect. Yet he was still young and inexperienced. That’s when the Prince returned, having been captured and sold to some slaver in the east. There was talk of war, but that was not the way of the Sauragorn. It was the responsibility of each to see to his own trek in the outer world, away from the swamps. If one fell, well that was just too bad. Weakness was not a Sauragorn trait, nor was mercy or compassion. The Prince had made it back. His rescuer, if one could call her that, was a beautiful red-headed Viridian woman, one of their Carnellian Sisterhood.

Some time later, she came to the swamps with human warriors, seeking the lair of one of the Black Clan. The dragon would have made short work of them all, were it not for the Prince and Shargallis. His debt repaid with the death of the dragon and the life of the enchantress, the Prince sent her on her way with a guard to ensure she left the swamps in one piece. Slathrahl was to be that guard. But as he packed his few belongings, he knew he would not be coming back. This was the beginning of his journey. And it would be a long way to get back home.

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