I had never picked up a weapon before, and here were all sorts of craftings from the forges of Drknx laid out before me. As young males were required to fight and survive both in the UnderEarth and on the surface world, it was time for me to learn, and learn fast. With eyes wide in awe, I gazed at the deadly assortment before me.

Dak stood behind me. "Pick one," he growled.

I had learned at a very young age the ill-wisdom of testing my older brother's patience and I grabbed the nearest weapon - a large sword with three serrated blades connected to a central axis - the weapon I use to this day. It was heavy, much too heavy for me at the time, and I nearly fell forward with its weight. Dak caught me - by slamming his forearm in my throat.

"Never lower your sword," he growled.

Stumbling backwards, I struggled with two hands to bring my weapon to bear. Succeeding not a moment too soon catching Dak's sword (of similar design) as it came down, aiming for my arm.

I glared at him. "It's too heavy."

"Grow stronger." Again Dak's sword came down and I ducked out of the way - the wrong way. Dak's whip flashed out catching me around the mouth and slamming me backward into the ground.

The sword still in my hand, I fought to bring it up, but Dak was upon me. I felt his boot grind into my wrist, pinning my sword hand to the ground. Going down on one knee, that knee in my groin, he put the blade of his sword to my throat. I could feel the serrated edges cutting into my skin, the dark magick coating the blades seeping into my body - stealing my breath away.

I remember the pain so well - I could not move for the pain. I enjoyed it, embraced it.

Dak could feel it and did not relent, but instead pressed the blade of his sword harder against my throat, "Remember, little brother, that next time I may not let you live. I suggest you learn faster."

Ramming his knee hard into my crotch, Dak grabbed me by the throat and hauled me to my feet. I stood unsteadily for a moment, aroused and angry at the same time.

"Fight."

Dak very nearly lost his life that day.....and I learned the strength that can be gained from frustration when pleasure from pain is not sated. It was not long before my lesson was put to the test as I was thrown into the whirlwind of puberty and the struggle into adulthood.

The chain whips carried by male Unorcs are much more than vicious weapons used for battle - they are symbols of male authority and adulthood.

I stood in the center of the fighting ring clothed in nothing but my leather pants and boots. I looked around to see my three older brothers in the ring with me dressed in full armor, their chain whips resting at their feet.

I knew what was coming....I knew what was going to happen....but I was still surprised when the first strike tore my back open.

With a growl against the surprise and pain, I turned to see Dak behind me smiling, his chain whip stained with my red/black blood. I knew he would not be the right choice, so I turned to my eldest brother, Kovr. As I moved towards him, Nzrik, second eldest of my brothers, lashed out - his chain whip catching me around the waist, cutting deep into my sides.

I turned on Nzrik and grabbed hold of his chain whip with my bare hands and fought to pull it free of his grasp. The links on the whip cut into my hands and I felt another chain whip slash deep into my side. I ignored the whips and embraced the pain.

Savoring it, I used it to my advantage. Stopping in my tracks, I ran towards Nzrik, his chain whip still caught around my waist. Slamming into him, I threw him to the ground using the slack from his own whip to strangle him. He bucked and struggled beneath me fighting for his life.

That's when I felt the whip tighten around my throat, forcing my head back. Looking up, I found myself eye to eye with Dak.

My older brother smiled, a twisted mixture of pride and cruelty in his white eyes. "Excellent choice, Tar - going for the weakest link," he growled into my ear so that only I could hear him.

Sliding his chain whip free from my throat, Dak tore the sensitive flesh at the base of my neck open. Kovr busted me in the face with the but of his chain whip knocking me backwards and it was only then that I realized that Nzrik had stopped fighting.

Grabbing his chain whip and taking it as my own, I stood and faced Dak and Kovr. They smiled and though I fought well, after hours of being whipped two against one - I did eventually fall, exhausted and bleeding, to the ground.

I awoke sometime later - sore and dirty - alone in the fighting ring. I had survived the Right of Passage and I walked from the ring an adult, my body showing the viciousness of my trial, the chain whip in my hand the symbol of what I had accomplished.