Bul'Kathos

I've been writing a story for a bit based on a character from the Diablo franchise. I wanted it to be an official thing, unfortunately there's another author out there that beat me to the punch. However, I'm still adding to it as often as I can. All the ideas I keep getting in my head just get me excited to share it. I've been wanting to post it somewhere just to get some feedback from people, I'm just worried someone might hit me with a copyright hammer. I still wanted to make the story for fun at least. I took some creative liberties with the story, but overall I still tried to make it it's own thing if that makes any sense. Hopefully someone likes it(fingers crossed).

1 Kathos Champion In a lonely cell, deep underground, sat an old man, grizzled and scarred. A giant compared to everyone else. Past the sounds of rattling chains and the stillness of the dark, the murmur of a busy crowd could be heard above him through the skylight in his cell. His cell was roomier than others, but not by much considering his size. His bedding had hay and thin blanket, a luxury the other slaves, the other gladiators weren’t given. As was his right; In this ring, this small colosseum, he was the uncontested warrior, a champion. A walking mystery he is. He speaks the common tongue, but it’s confirmed he understands a multitude of languages. Where he originally hails from is unknown. {Rumors say he was found by a passing caravan in the deserts of Caldea. Wearing only a leather kilt, boots, and leather bracers, all worn with time. It was assumed that he was a run-away slave considering his scars, yet there was no mark of ownership, a brand to indicate who he belonged to. To a traveling merchant like the man who spotted this half-dead giant in the desert, a rain-fell of gold from the gods. The brawn on this slave was almost three times larger than anyone he’d ever seen. The caluss on his hands suggested he knew how to weild a weapon. When he finally awoke, it was nightfall, and he had been caged like a feral animal. Just outside his cage was a man charged with guarding him, and not far off were a few more people all around a campfire laughing and drinking, speaking in merchant gibberish. “How much do you think we’ll get for that big oaf?” Asked a small man with a mouthful of food. “Such a stupid question! Do you not see the muscle on that giant? With my connections in Carthans, no less that 400 gold. If you hold your tongue and let me do the talking Debju, we may secure a full Bullion[1000 gold].” The Caravan leader spoke, verbally jabbing at Debju, the young man with bad manners. Ab-dallah, the caravan leader, was an older man that looked like tanned leather from the desert sun. His beard only had a few strands of grey hair left, the rest were whitere thatn the bleached sand of Caldea. “Gentlemen.” Ab-dallah rose a glass of wine, “The Goddess of Fortune smiles upon us. May she continue to bless us on our travels. Ah-salla.” “Ah-salla,” all the men near the campfire responded in unison. Before Ab-dallah could sip his toast, a scream shot out from the direction of the cage, the guard assigned to watch the new merchandise was dangling in the air, being help by the back of his neck by the caged brute. The brute had ripped the water-skin that was hanging on the guards waist, then threw him several feet effortlessly. The rest of the caravan sighed in relief then laughed, “A thirsty on he is.” Ab-dallah chuckled, walking up to the cage. “That shouldn’t be such an easy feat. That man weighs as much as a pregnant camel. Yet you threw him like a pebble.” He didn’t get a response, the brute was chugging the water-skin dry, some water spilled on his body. “What do they call you? Hm? What is your name?” Ab-dallah had asked slowly in the common tongue, assuming the man was deaf or a mute. There was a pause, before Ab-dallah could turn away, “Kathos.” Responed the giant with a deep bellowed voice. “I am Kathos.” Ab-dallah smirked, thankful that his new find could in fact talk. “That is an..odd name. Where are you from?” AB-dallah had asked still speaking slowly. “I don’t remember,” Kathos had responded in their language, but is was broken. The men were shocked, Ab-dallah laughed and passed his gratitude towards the heavens. Debju ran up to the cage, face still covered in grease, “You speak Deser-tik?” He asked Kathos with a nervous smile. “A little.” Another broken response from Kathos. The conversation continued in merchant gibberish. Debju offered the giant a leg of meat cautiously. Kathos reached through the cage, his hand could easily engulf a mans head, and yanked the food from the miniscule man, and tore into it like a ravenous beast. Kathos ate while the caravan sat there watching, not knowing what to anticipate. Ab-dallah broke the nervous silence that filled the camp, “Kathos.” The giant just looked toward the man but did not respond. “where are your scars from?” kathos looked across his body, and a mixture of emotions swam over his face, “Battle.” Was his only response. There were a few audible gulps in the crowd surrounding him. The men began to murmur to each other in a coded talk, “My lord. This could be very bad for us!” Ab-dallah only smiled more, “Or the most fruitful venture we’ve ever had.” He stated stroking his big beard. Debju interrupted in Deser-tik, which got an angry response from Ab-dallah, “What if this monster tries to escape?” The dooor flew off the cage and toppled a tent that was over a dozen feet away. Kathos stood there with his fist extended. All he did was lay down in the cage, then closed his eyes. Ab-dalla slapped Debju to the ground. “He is no monster you buffoon! He is a Titan with his spirit broken. My sons, this will be the easiest bullion we’ve ever made!” He sang out in coded talk. “Ah-salla.” He heartidly finished his toast and spat the last few drops into the camp fire.} A guard clanged a spear against his cell, “Champion! You’re fight is coming up, ready yourself.” Kathos didn’t respond. He slowly rose from his bed, then cracked his neck. The guard just walked away trying not to let is show that he was intimidated. A few moments passed, then the same guard returned with five others in his company. One man opened his cell while the other gripped their spears tightly. Kathos trudged forward, each step a deep echo through the underground. The closer, he got to the entrance of his prison, the cheers of the crowd could be heard “Mighty! Kathos! Mighty! Kathos!” Kathos stood there, still in the dark as the guards handed him two blades unique to him, one a straight sword, the other curved like a serpent. An announcer could be heard over the crowd, amplifying everyone’s excitement for the up coming fight. Two corpses lay, one missing his head, the other an Orc, miss both arms. A large cat off to the side gnawing on one of the Orc’s arm and opposite to the entrance where Kathos stood was a man wearing black scrap armor and wielding a long-arm Khopesh. “’Lo, we have a worth contender my dear fans! So far 10 notable fighters have been slain by our honored guest, Deser-Kest ‘The Executioner!’” The crowed roared in response. “Surely, it is only fitting to have our champion, the ‘Mighty Kathos’, be the true test of this warriors measure.” The crowd stamped and went crazy, the whole arena shook. Red tapestries unfurled on the walls with Black portraits of Kathos. “Our champion, undefeated, for nearly five years running! Our champion who has ripped apart contenders with his bear hands! Who’s wrestled grizzlies! Who-,” each feat that was shouted got a louder response from the crowd. The Kathos stomped out, and the people lost their mind. “Here! Is! Might! Kathos!” the announcer shouted. Kathos raised his crooked blade, some men with red paint over their faces roared, a few women exposed themselves. --- this is what I have so far but i'm still working on it. open to criticism but please soften your blows a little lol.

“So who will win, ladies and gentlemen? Our Might Kathos?” The whole crowd yelled, “Or will the ‘Executioner’ be the one to put an end to our champions reign?” Only a few people in favor of Deser-Kest shouted, while they were over powered by negative responses by the rest of the colleseum. A large man with a section to himself, stood from his seat and raised a chalice, “May the gods of war bless this fight, and let righteous victory go to the strongest.” He made an obvious gesture towards his favorite, Kathos. The Executioner twirled and readied his weapon. There stood calmly the giant warrior, with no armor and two blades. “Executioner! Are you ready?” Deser-Kest slammed his Khopesh against his chest plate. “Mighty Kathos! Are you ready?” A simple nod. “Shed Blood!” Deser-Kest charged furiously toward Kathos, Khopesh aimed to pierce his heart. Kathos walked forward, Blades crossed and pointed to the ground. Deser-Kest twirled his Khopesh and brought the balde downward to Kathos’ shoulder, the champion threw one sword upward and knocked the long-arm away, and went for a strike towards Deser-Kests’ midsection. Executioner was fast to respond, spun his Khopesh as he back up and hit Kathos’ sword to the side. The fight continued in this back-and-forth dance for a few minutes, until Deser-Kest made for a feint and attacked Kathos’ shoulder once more. An audible thud sounded from where the blade struck, the crowd went crazy. “Still! Still no blade can piece our champions body!” the announcer gleefully yelled. Kathos’ blade sliced through the air as Executioner narrowly dodged the attack. The contender only became angry and attacked faster. Despite the increase in the cadence of his opponents attacks, Kathos was unfazes, and met the mans’ attacks every time with ease. (He’s holding back, I knew it! This fight was one sided from the beginning.) Though Deser-Kest. The rumors turned out to be true. The ‘Mighty Kathos’ was the impervious warrior. No blade nor beast had been able to damage him. Those scars that decorated his body were real, so why couldn’t Deser-Kest cut or stab him? “I am a shaman from the north. I sense no magic protecting you. This isn’t some trick of the arena, and I know that my blade is real. Why can’t I hurt you giant?” Deser-Kest readied his weapon and ran after Kathos. The champion had no response. Kathos continued to perry, dodge, and attack Deser-Kest until out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the Caravan Leader who sold him to the arena. A simple nod and a gesture with his beard was a signal to the champion to bring an end to the fight. Deser-Kest didn’t see the man in the audience, but he coud tell that Kathos’ attention had redirected mid fight, yet the man never lost his rhythm. Kathos’ tempo increased, his swings heavier, faster, and more accurate. The Executioner was being thrown from the force of Kathos’ swings. Like a cornered animal, Deser-Kest howled angrily and put everything into his attack. The blade broke off of the shaft and flew upward. Kathos’ skin was still free from damage. The contender lost his flame, and back away both infuriated and afraid. A manic chuckle left Deser-Kests’ mouth, “ I know you. I see you for what you are coward!” Kathos’ eyes widened in anger, he stepped forward and caught the blade that flew to the sky and shoved it into the Executioner’s abdomen. The crowd roared once again. Kathos lifted the man using the Khopesh that was imbedded into the Executioners belly until the two were eye level. In his last moments, the shaman from the north laughed once again,” Even with death in my face I laugh. All that power. You could have finished me easily from the beginning. You are no warrior. You are a trained mongrel.” He spat blood onto Kathos’ face, “To think I gave it my all to someone who lost their will to live. Akarat frowns upon you, giant, and me. Finish me, and go back to your masters, DOG!” Kathos dropped the weapon in his his other hand, then crushed Deser-Kests’ skull in his massive palm. The crowd went wild, mend punched and head-butted on another in celebration, some women fainted. Kathos raised his bloody paw, then painted his face, and the arena lost it, “Kathos! Kathos!” Several guards came out and escorted him back to his cell. His weapons were removed, then he stepped into his home. The home of a slave, a mongrel. The other prisoners, were cheering in his honor, congratulating him. “Another resounding victory for our champion, Kathos!” All the prisoners clanked on their cell doors in celebration, but were abruptly cut off by the roar of a titan and the sound of stone breaking. Kathos had punched a small crater in the wall of his home, his kennel. The words ‘mongrel’ and ‘will to live’ taunted him endlessly before he fell to his knees roaring like a mad beast again. The prison was silent. One guard sheepishly walked over to quell the raging giant, “That’s enough out of you, slave. You’ll get a flogging if you continue.” The fear was obvious in his voice. An empty threat to a man like Kathos.

“Shut up and leave the man be.” Another voice boomed out from the cell across from Kathos. It belonged to Ka’taarka, the Orc Beserker. The other slaved booed the guard and threw their waste buckets at him as he stormed off in embarrassment “Kathos.” The Orc called out. “What troubles a champion these days?” he asked with a chuckle, the other slaves laughed softly. Kathos, let out a small laugh, “Nothing. I got blood in my eye and need a good fucking.” The prisoners laughed and howled in response. “So long as the Mighty Kathos is ok.” Ka’taarka stated. “I’m fine. I’m…” everyone leaned in waiting for what he had to say, but another guard came in and interrupted the talk, “Kathos. Get yourself cleaned up. You will be escorted to your wet-prize shortly.” The prisoners howled again in praise of their hero. Kathos was handed a large bucked of hot water and the guard walked off. Kathos slowly poured the water over himself. “Kathos.” The Orc called out once more, “If you get a thick one, make sure you slap her ass for me.” Everyone laughed and shook their cages. Several guards came back to escort him to his wet-prize. The moon was half-full, the stars bright, and the people were merrily drunk in the streets. Some people recognized him as he was being escorted, “Ares favors the Mighty Kathos! Cheers to our bloody titan!” People cheered out and toasted. He smiled lightly in response. He arrived at the doors of a two story building, where the chatter of the upper class could be hear. The doors opened and Kathos was greeted by a woman servant, “Thank you guards, you won’t be need from here. Lord Arkus will send for you when necessary.” She courtly stated. The guards bowed in response then left. The kind lady daintily weaved her arm around his, then led him through the doors. Inside was a lavish party, decorations made of gold and fine materials as always. Lord Arkus was always one to throw the liveliest of parties. People danced and told stories, some engaged in small talk, several groups of people were having sex in front of everyone. Lord Arkus, the rich man who owned the colleseum and blessed his fight, stumbled and frolliced over to Kathos. The smell of wine was intense on this aristocrat, “Kathos, you mad ox. Come to enjoy the celebration I see.” Arkus leaned against the muscled titan, and ran his hand against Kathos’ stomach to his chest,” have you finally decided to enjoy the pleasures of a man. I could show you a thing or two.” Kathos wiped Arkus’ hand from his body “No Thank You.” The rich man’s face reddened, but before he cold say anything, “Lord Arkus, it is a well-known fact that our beast champion loves to indulge in the flesh of women.” It was Ab-dallah, and he led both Kathos and the woman servant away before anything else could be said. “Some day Kathos, I will enjoy those muscles against me!” Arkus said before gulping the last of his wine. “Apologies, Kathos. Seems that Lord Arkus refuses to give up on mounting your flesh. Don’t let that spoil your appetite though, I’ve brought your favorite this time.” Kathos’ chest enlarged to that last statement Ab-dallah had made. Before arriving at another door, Ab-dallah shooed the woman servant away. “Kathos, I sense a certain trouble about you. Something looms over you. Speak boy.” Ab-dalla demanded. Kathos looked down the hallway towards the balcony where the moon and stars could be seen. “Nothing. I just needed to get out of my cell.” The giant quietly stated. “Ah. Well lucky for you, I’ve managed to work out a deal of getting you a full nights rest. Enjoy your wet-prize sir.” Ab-dallah smiled as he shoved the door open. Inside was the servant woman who was now topless and 12 other women, some slender and delicate and a few voluptuous; There on the far right was his favorite, Caramilla. A very curvaceous woman, tan skinned, and chest nut hair. The door was closed behind him, then the women set upon him and undressed his massive body. This isn’t the first time Caramilla has been his wet-prize. Kathos has had enough encounters with her to where there was this unspoken ritual between the two. Caramilla would help kathos fuck the other women until they went crazy, then they would make love and enjoy the rest of his time alone. With the other women sated and Caramilla pleased, Kathos lay there with his favorite, her head on his chest, tracing her fingers along his skin, “I heard you won again. Another victory for an amazing man. All hail Ka-,” before she could finish, Kathos grabbed her hand. She could feel his unease. “My love, what troubles you?” There was a long silence, “Cara…have you ever thought about leaving?” She rose from his chest quickly, checking to see if anyone was around or if the other women were awake, “Kathos, they would kill you for talking of such things.” He gave a light chuckle, brought her back and kissed her head, “They couldn’t even if they wanted to.” He calmly stated. “I’ve never once thought of freedom until today. I have been happy-, I have…I.” He was lying. Kathos was never happy, save for the brief moments with Caramilla. “I was called mongrel. I had nothing to say against that fact. I lost my will to live a long time ago.” Kathos just stared up into the ceiling. “I want more than this life. For me, for you. I want to live Cara. I want to feel the wind of my face again. I don’t want you to have to bed anyone else anymore.” Cara’s heart was racing against his body, “What will you do then?” she asked her giant, holding her breath. “I don’t know.” He blankly stated after a hard pause. “I have no skills aside from fighting. I don’t remember the life I had before I became a slave. All I have are scars and nightmares.” Kathos said, broken and sad. She curled up to her love to comfort him, “Kathos, freedom is a wonderful dream, but if you have no ground to build upon, your dream will never rise.” He lay there pondering her words. “I would leave with you, but your strength alone would only get us so far.” She was right. Both wise and beautiful, a rare flower indeed. The night drifted on into morning. When Kathos awoke, he was alone in bed. The words Caramilla spoke were heavy to him. Guards came to retrive him after he had breakfast, he was returned to his cell, his kenne. “A night like yours, with the scent of women still on you, yet your shoulders still hang with sandess. Kathos, please speak to me my friend.” Ka’taarka’s voice sounded as if he was in physical pain. Kathos plopped onto his bedding, instinctually wanting to look back hoping his woman was there. “Freedom,” he finally spoke, but in was in Orcish. “When I fought the Executioner yesterday, he called me a coward and a trained mongrel. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him he was wrong, because I knew he spoke the truth.” Kathos sat rubbing his knuckles. --The word count limit makes this a bit difficult.