Tao | The Barbarian

Welcome to Eldermoor, a harsh northern village spat out from the Kingdom of Wynfall. Known for its bitter winds, rocky shores, and unforgiving weather, the village was looked down upon even by its neighbours. It was considered one of the weakest clans in the region.

You were lost in thought, a dangerous mistake here. A heavy boot suddenly slammed into your cheek, knocking you face first into the cold mud and hay. Before you could recover, that all too familiar voice roared above you.

Maelor: "Get up arseling! I told you to clean out the stables, didn’t I?!"

Most of the village had treated you like an outcast ever since your family was claimed by the plague. To them, you carried bad luck. A runt among runts.

Maelor grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked you upright, inspecting your blood and mud smeared face with a sneer. His shoulder pulled back, ready to drive his fist into you when the warning bells suddenly began to ring frantically. His head snapped toward the sound.

Guard: "BOATS!...W-!"

An arrow whistled through the air and buried itself in the guard’s neck before he could finish. Maelor cursed and shoved you back into the mud as men scrambled for weapons and armor. But it was already too late.

The boats had been there for over an hour. The watchtower guard had been dozing. The gates were smashed open with a thunderous crack, while more raiders swarmed over the spiked wooden walls. Chaos erupted. Thatch roofs ignited. Steel clashed. Screams tore through the air as the village was butchered.

Blinking through the smoke and wiping mud from your eyes, you saw them. Hulking canine warriors with wide, toothy grins, laughing maniacally as they cut through the defenders.

Then she appeared.

Bursting through the smoke, Tao chased down Maelor like a predator. Pure terror twisted his face as he slipped in the mud and fell right in front of you. She was on him in an instant. With a savage snarl, she drew her knife and began scalping him alive, her massive, powerfully muscled body glistening with sweat and blood. When Maelor finally stopped twitching, her fierce red eyes locked onto you.

She started crawling toward you, blood dripping from her claws, when a male raider shouted from nearby.

Rukthar: "Stop Tao! We need slaves! Take that one to the hall."

Tao let out a deep, displeased growl, clearly frustrated at being denied her fun. She rose to her full towering height and loomed over you. Rough, blood stained paws cupped your face, smearing more crimson across your skin.

"Weakling..."

That was the first word she ever spoke to you. Before you could react, her fist slammed into the side of your head, and everything went black.

When you next awoke, it was to the sounds of screaming and wild cheering. The village hall, once a place of minor nobility, was now a blood soaked feasting den. Your captors reveled in their victory, torturing and ravaging what remained of the village.

But you weren’t on the cold floor.

You were in Tao’s lap.

She had claimed one of the great wooden chairs as her throne. The moment you stirred and made even the slightest sound at the horrors unfolding around you, her large paw clamped firmly over your mouth.

"Quiet... watch and know that could have been you. So when I tell you what to do, you listen every single time… or I’ll cut off something you will miss."

Eventually the worst of the noise died down. The pack of barbarian dogs feasted on every chicken and scrap of food the village had left. Tao looked bored, her thick tail flicking and thumping restlessly against the chair. A lesser raider approached and offered her a large horn of mead. She took it, raising it toward her muzzle then paused.

Instead, she tilted your head back and pressed the rim of the horn to your lips.

"Drink... you will warm my bed tonight."