“While most people might think that a Slave’s life would be a horrible one full of hard labor and inhuman treatment, it was not always the case. In some cultures, slaves were employed as teachers, as researchers and scholars who worked on tasks their masters set them to.
Quite naturally these slaves were valued far more and treated far better compared to those who did hard labor on the farmlands or the mines. History also had many instances of slave soldiers, who were often at the very least elite units, often giving themselves a better accounting on the field of battle compared to free men.” - From a lecture by Garth Wainwrought, Dean of the Levain Institute of Higher Learning, Circa 691 FP.
Nine years quickly passed, and Alvaro managed to remain as part of the Warforged trainees despite the ever-increasingly difficult training they were put through. He had grown into a tall and strong young lad, one of the strongest out of the children his age. Years of non-stop physical training had forged a body that was almost like it was carved out of marble rather than made of flesh.
Out of the over a thousand children from his batch of trainees, less than a hundred remained. Those hundred had since been re-divided into five barracks of twenty or so children each. From the sixty that had been in Alvaro’s old room, only two remained, him included. Despite how their room had the least amount of trainees remaining, they also stood heads and shoulders above the others in terms of quality.
Njeri was the girl who had shared the bunk bed with him when they were both small children. She was also the only other trainee from their room to have “survived” the harsh training together with him. Unlike him, Njeri was leaner and lithe in physique, but all that did was to remind him of the great predatory cats he had once seen stalk off with a lamb from a neighboring ranch when he was young.
As Njeri grew up and the differences between men and women become more apparent, Alvaro found himself surprised – and in some way, relieved – that a recruiter had picked her for Warforged training all those years ago. He probably had those thought because if Njeri had not been inducted into the training, chances were she’d be a pleasure slave for whoever owned her parents by now.
She was beautiful. Her skin was the darkest shade Alvaro ever laid eyes upon, as dark as the wood of ebony trees, much unlike his own olive brown hue which was typical to most northerners. Dark skin like Njeri’s was one of the symbols of beauty amongst the people of Kolitschei and many of the nearby regions, and even then it was rare to find a person with a shade of such flawless ebony like hers.
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That beauty had been transformed into the dangerous beauty of a naked blade after all the training he and Njeri had been through. Despite her lithe frame, the girl was by far one of the deadliest fighters in their group, as she had proved over the many spars all the remaining children had. Alvaro was about the only one who managed to hold his own against her amongst them.
After Alvaro turned twelve years old, their training changed. Rather than general training intended to strengthen their bodies, they started to receive more specialized training under the watchful eyes of older Warforged from two generations ago. The children that remained after the weak and unspirited were rooted out were then subjected to new, yet even harsher training.
Most were made to practice with long pikes, six meters in length with shafts of hardwood, a spearhead on one end and a spike on the other. Even lifting the massive weapon alone was an ordeal for a twelve to fourteen year old child, despite all the training they had gone through, much less training with it from sunrise to sunset.
Those who had great physical fitness but were less coordinated with their hands were separated and taken to train as shieldbearers. They were given massive shields the size of a door and made to carry it with them during every waking moment, only allowed to set them aside when they slept at night. While the intensity of their training increased compared to before, nobody quit this time.
They all knew that if they passed through this hurdle successfully, formal inducement into the Warforged lay before them.
Alvaro and Njeri were part of yet another group. A much smaller one, with only six of them chosen out of their batch of a hundred. They were all the best performers amongst the group in the sparring practices, and as such had been chosen to be trained as Blademasters. It was the highest compliment and affirmation Alvaro received for his hard work of the past years.
The Blademasters were the most respected of all the Warforged. They were the commanders of the Warforged formations, as well as the deadliest fighters in each. They were trained in the use of weapons of their personal choice, with the only criteria for “graduation” being that they were able to defeat at least five veteran pikemen working together, all on their lonesome.
Njeri was the first to graduate from their training, at the tender age of fifteen.
Alvaro followed suit a couple months later, shortly after his own fifteenth birthday. The day the young man was inducted into the order of the Warforged as a Junior Blademaster was the proudest day of his life. He was even more touched when he saw his parents and younger sister amongst the small audience for the simple ceremony, part of his privileges as a Warforged.
His parents and little sister were elevated in status overnight. From their previous position as slave laborers in the farmlands, they were brought in as servants in the Ducal Palace. It was as high and comfortable a position a slave could aim for other than joining the vaunted order of the Warforged. Alvaro later learnt that the family of every member were given similar privileges, unless the member in question requested that they be denied that privilege, sadly not an uncommon situation for those from broken households or with abusive parents.