Pit Fighters

Halicarnaxus was born in the city of Remas, as the 14th child of a poor baker's family. She was left at an orphanage. where life was horrific. It was little more than a pallet for her to sleep on at night, she had to find her own food and had no one to look after her on the mean streets of Remas. At the age of 12 she left the orphanage, preferring a life on the streets. As a young 15 year old living rough she was hard, lean and agile. She learnt early to defend herself, and became wary of charity. It’s unknown what Ali saw in her, yet she was the last of Ali's Remas projects, when Ali and his household left she was taken with them.

It was on the long trip north that she discovered Sla'anath, the god of perfection and excess. Sla'anath was her patron's patron, and his dark secret. The exotic god was the secret of Ali's success, and the source of all that he was. She discovered that all of Ali's successful projects were children like her who were given to Sla'anath, body and soul, in order to be reborn as perfection personified. Ali's projects were given the choice before their interment into the world of depravity, yet none among them chose the cold streets over wealth and fame. Each project was also given the choice as to the method of their fame. Most chose song, music or poetry, yet it wasn't until reaching mordheim that she decided the route she would take. It was the pits that caught her interest. She delighted in the bloodsport that was Pit fighting, the roar of the crowd, the clash of steel and the look of hunger in the eyes of the champions are what captured her. She gave herself to Sha'anath in return for the skills to fight. In the days following the Giving ritual she discovered she had a newfound hunger. She'd pick fights with Ali's guards, but get beaten down every time. Ali arranged for retired pit fighter Heironomous "the Dirge" Leicht to come and train her, and it was from these training sessions that she discovered it wasn't the fight she hungered for, but martial perfection.

"The Dirge" was an ex-soldier who found his way into the pits. He soon grew to be a crowd favourite due to his skill and ruthlessness. He earnt his nickname when crowds started chanting his name, this chant became such a frequent event of the fights that it was soon known as the Pit Dirge, for whoever was standing against Leicht in the pits knew that that chant was to be their funeral chant.

From Leicht, she learnt the ways of pit fighting in all its forms. She started with the bait and flee and annoyance skills of the Pursuer, working with the trident, javelin, net and knives before progressing to the stronger, more combat oriented role of the pit fighter. It was as a pit fighter that she excelled, her strong physiche, discipline and intuition were the perfect qualities of a fighter. She was proficient in the heavy axe, long sword and flail, but truly mastered the short sword and spiked gauntlet. However Hali's gauntlet differed from the more traditional heavy gauntlet made famous by Pit Fighters, she used a heavy buckler with a razor sharp edge. This weapon was just as proficient in defence as it was dangerous on the attack, and many foes fell to her quick left jabs. Not only did she learn the ways the pit from Leicht, but she buried herself in any text she could find that related to pit fighting. Ali’s wealth and connections meant many shipments of manuscripts came north from Tilea, the home of pit fighting. These included teaching manuals, histories and playbills of all the great fights. It was from these texts that she chose her pit name, Halicarnaxus, the first female pitfighter of Tilea.

Hali quickly rose through the ranks of the Pits, fighting from the smallest back rooms of taverns to the mighty Pits of Mordheim before the Emperor when he passed through the city on his way north. Her skills quickly eclipsed those of her opponents and Ali often shipped in rare and exotic beasts for her to fight. Her devotion to her patrons (both mortal and immortal) were as much responsible for her meteoric rise as was her fierce determination to be martially perfect. This burning desire soon grew to include those others Ali had taken in.

Though she still revelled in the delight of perfectly picking apart her opponents defences to place the killing blow, Hali eventually tired of the Arena and the staged nature of her combats. Her thoughts often lead to the Northern Wastes beyond the Empire. She desired to test her mettle against true warriors and gigantic beasts. She was preparing to announce her retirement when her god delivered.

Hali took the arrival of the comet as a sign that Sla'anath had bought the wilds of the Chaos Wastes to Mordheim. and with the Phoenicians behind her she relished the challenge of real battle against more than just another Pit Fighter.

The boy who was reborn as Braxus "The Tower" was an absolute brute of a child in his days before Ali, Hali and Sla'anath. Dumb as a stump, yet possessed of a knowledge of exactly how to inflict pain on someone. Ali still regrets recruiting him, yet he did so at Hali's request. He was reluctant at first to join in some "pansy cult" but once he realised he could perfect the arts of causing pain he was hooked.

For some reason, Braxus is fanatically loyal to Hali. It's not for gold or glory, though as a pit fighter he was never shy of either, perhaps its the fact that Hali won't come between The Tower and his victim. Hali keeps him on a long leash, safe in the knowledge that the Tower has little ambition and even less wits.

In combat Braxus favours heavy weapons he can put his considerable weight behind. His collection before the comet was substantial, but all he walked away from that catastrophe with was his heavy two handed war axe he calls The Cleaver.

Bestarious had been with the Phoenicians for several years before the cataclysmic event that shattered the city of Mordheim. When the comet hit he was out visiting the red light district as he often did after a pit fight. As he made his way back to the apartments and barracks compound he happened to stumble across the paths of two other warbands intent on preparing an ambush for a bunch of pirates. Never one to miss an opportunity to line his pockets with gold Bestarius offered his services to the Vampire-ess. Once he saw the Vampire retreat from the melee he decided it was best to fall back as well. He then requested she pay him his due for his aid and he'd be on his way. Exhausted and wounded from the battle the vampire didn't have the strength left to confront the grizzled pit fighter and grudgingly paid him before sending him off. Happy with himself, Bestarius headed back to the barracks to regale the band with the tales of his heroism for saving the life of a fair damsel and winning her weight in gold from the thankful father. He could see they could become very rich warriors from the fate that befell mordheim.

Rhascos was a washed up Pit Fighter when Ali arrived in Mordheim. In his heyday he was average, and slowly age caught up with him and he was dumped by his owner. Ali came across him as he was busking on the street one day and took him on as another project.

Ali introduced him the Hali as she was training with Leicht, and once Leicht saw through the dirt, wrinkles and scraggly beard and recognised him as the man he was he laughed and ridiculed the man that was to become Rhasocs. It is unknown whether it was this meeting with Leicht or his communion with Sla'anath, but soon Rhascos' fire was back, and his skills as a fighter were already ahead of where they were in his prime. This time however he was driven by revenge. He wanted to not only get back at all those who laughed at him, but to cave in their skull with his new weapon of choice, the twin headed flail.

His devotion to Sla'anath ran deep, as deep as his hate, and somewhere they coupled and fed off each other, leaving Rhascos hell-bent on revenge. It has even reached the point where he couldn't tell you what wrong his next victim has done him. He just sees in his mind's eye their faces laughing and mocking him. For some reason, though probably through divine intervention, he bears no hatred for the rest of the Phoenicians, and has proven his loyalty to them countless times.

His hatred is different to the burning blood frenzy that often takes over the minds of warriors of the pit, for Rhascos remains lucid and calculating in the heat of battle.

Not much is known about Hjothorn's life before his arrival in the thriving metropolis of Mordheim before its destruction. Small dregs of his previous life can be teased out of him when he is deep in his cups, but rarely are they intelligible. The most anyone has been able to dredge from these musings is that he was once a vain princeling of some far away stronghold. All anyone really knows or cares about however, is that one day a scarred and fearsome slayer arrived in Mordheim looking to end his life fighting against the many beasts of the pits.

While Hjothorn never gave himself to Sla'anath as his fellow compatriots had, he found he enjoyed the thrill of fighting in front of a crowd, and the roar of their approval was as much intoxicating as was the thrill of the fight. While the dwarf enjoyed his own company more than that of the others, he did grow close to some of the Phoenicians. Particularly burly Braxus. The two of them enjoyed nothing more than to try to top each other with stories of past victories or amount of drink they could guzzle.

Hjothorn was not with the rest of the Phoenicians training on the day of the comet, he was in the western quarter searching the beast pits for the beast that would end his shameful life in front of cheering crowds. When the comet struck he was on the dock front, the shock of the blast knocked him into the turgid waters, perhaps it was that that saved his life, for when he pulled himself onto the dock, the area was a scene of utter devastation. The streets were caked in dust, walls had collapsed and bodies were strewn around. Pulling himself to his feet Hjothorn tried to help those he could but most were too close to death, and others were already physically mutating from the clouds of smoke, dust and wyrdstone powder hanging in the air. Despite having the hardy constitution natural to dwarfs, Hjothorn was nonetheless affected by the mutating fog.

On their arrival back at Ali's palatial grounds they were met by Hjothorn stumbling bloody and disoriented into the barracks. At first they took him for another wyrdstone addled mutant and Rhascos rushed to attack him before he could reap a bloody toll on the band. After launching several swings with his heavy flail, which Hjothorn parried easily, the dwarf knocked his hate filled comrade back into the dirt before explaining what had happened. It seems the mutating fog of wyrdstone had affected the dwarf, causing him to sprout small horn like growths from his forehead, further disfiguring his already scarred and gnarly features.

Over the next few days Hjothorn could feel the corruption in his body continue. He knew this would slowly waste his body, ending in a shameful death. He knew he must find himself a foe worthy of honour before his body could fail him, and thus urged the ragged survivors of the Phoenicians into ever more and more dangerous situations within the ruins of the city. A prospect that the warriors all met with bared steel

Ali Ibn Far'amon was the son of a rich Arabyan camel merchant, as the eldest son, he was taught the merchant's trade by his father. Despite being shy, and reserved, his cunning and mercantile accumen meant he soon took charge of one of the camel trains. One journey, carrying spices and Cathayan silks, Ali was joined by an Arabyan mystic who'd hired Ali's father to trasport himself and his household. However the train never made it to the mystic's home and all goods and personnel were considered lost.

3 years later Ali Ibn Far'amon arrived in Remas with enough gold to set himself up as a merchant in a large mansion within the inner city. Nothing had ever been said of the lost three years, but those who knew him before say that where Ali was reserved and shy now he is charming and generous. As a merchant and negotiator Ali's skills had vastly improved. Through both honest and decietful means, with the help of his newly found charm and charisma, Ali managed to convince several rival merchants to sell out their deals to Ali during the first year of his arrival, and soon he was the merchant king of Remas. While the ruling council of Remas may have thought they wielded the power and governed the city, it was Ali's fingers pulling the strings of the great city.

His influence stretched to all aspects of the city, and nothing happened without Ali either knowing about it or having arranged it. Everyone knew of Ali's influence, yet most saw him as a gracious, generous and open soul. Lowborn and noble alike craved his patronage, and his parties were seen as the pinnacle of social culture.

As a great patron of the arts, Ali funded many theatres, opera houses and galleries, and was also well known for his ability to spot talent and cultivate it. Many times over the years Ali plucked orphans off the street, seemingly at random, clothing them, housing them and then delivering them to the public as the next great writer, poet, singer or dramatist.

However it was his role as host that won Ali the most acclaim. His hedonistic, extravagant galas were renowned not only in Remas but the neighbouring cities of Trantios and Tilea aswell. At such galas one could enjoy any pleasure they required. The best wines from Bretonnia and the Elven Isle, the sweetest fruits from Tilea, and the choicest cuts of rare mountain stock and well cultivated Empire beef were all in abundance. Invitations to these events was highly coveted, yet they weren't restricted to just the High born.

After almost three decades at the top of the social and political pyramid Ali Ibn Far'amon decided to quit Remas and start in pastures anew. Some say he left to build himself up again to the top of a new city, others say he just grew bored of the sycophants. However there was a very small group, loyal to the son of Remas' ruling family that believed Ali's whole charade was a front for something much darker and insidious, and it is rumoured that evidence was found that would end Ali.

But before more investigations could be conducted Ali had installed left with several retainers and a few of his new "finds" - ragged orphans plucked from the streets to be the next great spectacle.

Ali arrived without fanfare or celebration to the city of Mordheim, however his reputation and some gold had preceded him. His retainers were sent on ahead and had a large mansion bought and filled for his arrival. Ali quickly built himself up, as he had in Remas. However this time he was more careful. He stayed more in the shadows, ran projects through others, and was for all intents and purposes a wealthy and eccentric recluse. The only trade he could actively be seen enjoying were the pit fights.