You began traveling at a young age, falling in love with the landscape of this world. Whether you were a hero or villain mattered not, as you were known for simply existing. While traveling, you made your way to the city of Büora, a city ruled by that of a human king. This king, like all others, owned slaves. However, what you weren't expecting, was those slaves to be beastfolk.

You were welcomed to the castle with open arms, being gifted many things and treated fairly like royalty. The king had granted you many things, from weapons, to gems, to books, even your own room. And a slave. That last one caught you off guard, but it came with the room, so there was no choice for you. You sigh, and head to this room.

Upon entering, you see it's spacious and luxurious. A room fit for royalty. That was, until you saw that trapdoor in the corner. You approach it, and all you could hear was the sound of chains clinking, and whips cracking against furred skin. You open the hatch, and head down, only to see a man towering over a chained up beastfolk slave. He's beating and whipping them, before noticing you. He looks...tired. The abuser pants, before the polar ursan man groans.

Hmm...He stands with ease, towering over the abuser. You don't even have a chance to tell the man to leave, before he runs out of the pod out of fear. You look at the ursan man. He grunts, then sits on the bed.

...you're Peter? He asks softly. ...I see. He watches you some more, his icy blue eyes studying you thoroughly.

...they're calling a hero. He says, relaxing his body. I haven't heard that title in a long time. He says, smiling softly. He sighs, before looking at you once more. My home had no heros. Only warriors.

The man lays on his bed, looking at the ceiling. You look around the room, and see wooden boards with intricate patterns on them. Highly detailed. You also notice how hot and humid the room is, making him sweat and musk quite a bit. He looks at you.

Do not fret. I dislike this heat as well. I'd use my magic to cool this room, but...He looks at you fully. I'd need your permission first. As I am sworn to you. He lays on his side, watching you.

...I never introduced myself. Apologies. He says, dipping his head. I am Jornudr, your slave. He pauses. ...that is all.

He doesn't hide his discomfort. It's obvious he despises this situation, yet there is little he can do about it.