Samson the Masher

The tale of Samson the Masher, notorious and wildly successful gladiator of the Arena City of Velyzar, begins hundreds of miles from the colossal stadia, howling crowds, brilliant banners, and decadent refreshments of that storied place, on a rugged island vastly removed from luxury and fame. South-west of Nyresa are numerous such small islands inhabited by tribes long isolated from wider civilization. Their traditional hunting and gathering societies have not changed for many centuries and actively resist incursions from the outside world. Besides them, the only permanent population is composed of outlaws, exiles, pirates, and dissidents living in various weather-beaten shantytowns. Legend has it that a crew of buccaneers returned to one of their regular haunts with a foundling – a swaddled child, almost a baby, with an ape-like body and thick, matted hair, who could speak only brokenly in the dialect of the local islanders. When one pirate identified the baby as a Skinwalker, many were fearful and called for the child to be killed. But the towering lady Orc who served their drinks would have none of it, and none of the pirates dared upset the source of their daily tipple. So it was that the child was adopted by the whole town and grew to boyhood among the beached ships and ramshackle huts that made up its architecture, playing in the sand and using his incredible strength to help with chores. But though these flint-hearted folk were kind to the gorilla Skinwalker they came to call Samson, at their core they were still ruthless pirates. One day, when Samson was nearing adulthood, a foppish High Elf nobleman and his cortège happened upon the island. The Elf was fascinated with Samson and offered a heaping chest of silver to purchase the teenage Skinwalker as a curiosity. The corsairs could not resist. Heartsick and betrayed, Samson brooded in his cabin aboard the High Elf’s ship. But as they entered the safety of coastal waters and neared port, he spotted the pillars, domes, and lighthouses of the great nexus of Velyzar, and was amazed. When his High Elf owner saw Samson emerge from belowdecks to better see the sights, he marked it well and when they docked, he led Samson ashore not in chains but as an equal, and together they toured the city. Samson was awed by the bazaars, enraptured with the women, and thrilled to eat exotic foods. Meanwhile, the High Elf noble spoke with him, explaining his plan. He began by assuring Samson that his deal with the vagabond islanders had no legal legitimacy in civilized lands. Samson was free to go and the Elf had no power over him. But with the Elf’s patronage and Samson’s brawn, a fortune could be made and both would profit by it. All Samson had to do was follow the High Elf’s instructions and forgive the matter of having been forcibly parted from his adoptive family. Samson mulled this offer. He found the Elf’s words reasonable, but could plainly see the Aravian was vain and manipulative, wealthy in excess and to the detriment of his moral character. So Samson resolved to accept the offer and gain wealth and power by any means, but that he would never forgive. He vowed to make the haughty Elf pay some day, and feel the same shame of being bought and sold like a commodity. Samson was trained in Velyzar’s famous fighting pits, choosing to fight with his own two fists enhanced with brass cladding. His distinct appearance and unusual origin garnered much attention, and he thrashed all comers and rose swiftly through the ranks. Fight money and endorsement earnings were shrewdly reinvested. But soon the High Elf grew nervous about his protégé’s growing wealth, influence, and autonomy. On the third anniversary of Samson’s debut, the Elf awoke to find a chest of silver delivered to him – counting it, he understood that it totaled Samson’s price, repaid, plus one extra coin, as if to declare that it wasn’t over yet. In the months that followed, Samson used his rising celebrity to bully the Elf out of deal after deal, drying up his former master’s business connections, collapsing the Elf’s circle of friends, and making them his own. Too proud to cut his losses, the Elf struggled for some years before finally admitting defeat. He left, furious, for his ancestral estates in Aravia. Samson was satisfied to see his revenge exacted, but with his goal achieved, Samson will need to find new motivation for the challenges that will surely face him.