Strongulus

[Gorgondantess]

You sit at Valhalla, a small dive somewhere in the barbaric lands to the north, just having come back from wrestling an army of a hundred powerful berzerkers into submission... at once.
The men, all powerful warriors, clash tankards of ale and hold their wenches, slaves from the battle. As one of the greatest among them, you had the pick, and at your arm is The Lady of the Lake; a water nymph. She stands timidly by your side as you revel.
One of the men, sitting upon a warlord's chair, addresses you. He had taken many lives that day. "Strongulus! What is best in life?"

[Frosty]

Ahh...there are many things good in life...and many of them right here in this very hall! The sights and sounds of brave warrior after brave warrior, clashing against each other, each exerting his best...and also the sight of nubile slaves, willing (or not) to serve in ANY way they can to please the warriors...those are all good. But...what is the BEST? How to put it eloquently...

Strongulus holds up a hand to demand silence. Once he has everyone's attention, his powerful form rises from his chair, and he says with absolute confidence, "Fight for what is rightly yours, knowing that EVERYTHING is rightfully yours, and spreading your seed far and wide!"

[Gorgondantess]

Excellent.
As you say this, your nymph begins to look nauseous, and runs off through the crowd. One of the other warriors notices this, and grabs her by the arm before she can fully escape. Being a strong man, of strong blood and without his own maiden from the most recent battle (having been busy slaughtering men rather than taking women) he tears her scanty shirt off, pressing his hairy beard into her face, going down on your prize, as she struggles and shrieks. The other men laugh and cheer.

[Frosty]

Strongulus is not too worried about the nauseous look of maiden-slaves. They eventuallly learn the enjoy Strongulus's attentions...or they'll at least pretend to. And certainly the ripping of shirts and other covering off of females is to be COMMENDED. However, the pawing of taking pleasure from HIS slave...HIS prize...without even ASKING for permission...THIS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!

Taking a heavy step forward, he reaches out and grabs the man's shoulder. Then, with almost INHUMAN force, Strongulus SLAMS the man's head backwards into the wooden table, dazing the man. Strongulus pulls out a dagger and brings it down NEXT TO the man's head, burying it into the table. "Never...EVER...try to use my property without my consent! Do you HEAR me?"

[Gorgondantess]

The man under you quails before your might, letting go your prize: but in the ensuing chaos, she escapes, running out into the snowy night. The other warriors back away from the scene, watching you with apprehension.

[Frosty]

An escaped slave will only introduce rebelliousness to the other slaves and raise their morale. This must be stopped. The muscled, chiseled Strongulus sprints after the water nymph, intent on bringing back and then having his way with her to show the other slaves what happens to those that disobey!

[Gorgondantess]

You head out the door of the great building to find your prize running off into the snowy distance, fueled by hysteric speed. The men around you shout in an uproar, and a few more slaves try to squeeze past you, taking their chances with the cold.

[Frosty]

There is no way that a puny woman can match the speed and stamina of the mighty STRONGULUS! Getting himself pumped with Adrenaline, Strongulus will sprint ahead and attemptto grapple the nymph down when he reaches her!

[Gorgondantess]

You sprint out into the snow, as all the slaves make a break for it in the chaos. As you run, however, you are slowed by having to trudge through the deep drift, and another warrior grabs you, pulling you around. "You! I don't care who you are, you're the one to blame for all this! Our prizes are escaping!" Many of the others nod and shout in agreement.

[Frosty]

You sprint out into the snow, as all the slaves make a break for it in the chaos. As you run, however, you are slowed by having to trudge through the deep drift, and another warrior grabs you, pulling you around. "You! I don't care who you are, you're the one to blame for all this! Our prizes are escaping!" Many of the others nod and shout in agreement.

Strongulus's face darkens. "If you can't hold on to your own prizes, then you are too WEAK to begin with. The next time you grab me like this, prepare to lose use of that arm for a few months."

He attempts to pull away from the man and continue to chase after his prize.