Waverider Expedition - The Desert Rim
The hall was thick with smoke and sweat, the air vibrating with drumbeats and drunken laughter. Warlord Tharvok slouched on a throne of piled shields, a goblet spilling wine across his beard as he waved for more music.
In the center of the stone floor, the slave girl danced. Chains jingled with her every step, catching the firelight like silver ribbons. Her movements were fluid, practiced, meant to please. But Tharvok’s watched her with something colder than lust. Across his face, a scar flamed red, scarred by the dancing woman's concealed blade when she was captured.
She twirled closer. His laughter died.
"You did this," he slurred, pointing at his face. "It's time to repay the service."
He rose, unsteady, and drew his dagger. The music stopped. The girl froze.
"She cut my face. I’ll carve my name in her flesh."
He grabbed her by the wrist, pressed her down, and lowered the blade toward her bared buttocks.
Solonex, his eyes black, put his hand on his sword, and looked at his compatriots.
Chairs silently scraped back. Hands moved to hilts. The girl trembled beneath Tharvok as the tip of the dagger touched her skin.
In a split second, Solonex stood up and in one swift motion cut off the hand of the warlord. His crew quickly rose, drawing their weapons, preparing to take on the entire room.
Suddenly, Tharvok fell forwards, with Praxon, his second in command stepping out of the shadows, a bloody dagger in his hand. He looked at Solonex, and said "Looks like I'm the boss now. Thank you. You seem to like the slut. She is my gift of gratitude to you. Now, leave, I have matters to attend to.".
He made a gesture, and the raiders lowered their weapons, acknowledging their new leader.