NOTE: NOT A LIVE RP, DO NOT ASK TO JOIN OR SEND APPLICATIONS. THIS HAS BEEN LONG DEAD.
Disclamer: I did not create this RP and do not intend to benifit from posting it here. Months ago I participated in this RP on http://www.roleplaygateway.com/, I had a lot of fun in it and with the other players and it was an interesting RP at that, making it all the more a shame that it stalled out. But I come here today, not to revive it elsewhere mind you, but to in a sense “chronicle” it. I’m posting it here on display for others to see and perhaps be inspired by and maybe enjoy it as much as I did.
In this RP I played Darastrix Dastudr, a stoic third generation Dragonborn/Human descendant. If you want to learn about the other characters in this RP here is a link: http://www.roleplayg...eplay/red-sand/
I will be separating the entirety of it in a several posts, which can be looked at as “chapters”. They will remain unedited from the site I am copying from so if you see any grammatical errors that’d be why.
As a fair warning there is some gore and mature subjects in this RP, so younger readers may want to avert their eyes.
If you also want to lurk around the ooc to see the wacky time we had go right ahead.
You live in the kingdom of Diran, a once prosperous and self sufficient land, ran by old king Alan, where all the races thrived. The land had never seen any major war or invasion due to the large mountain range that surrounded it, isolating the kingdom from the rest of the known world. Despite the mountain range every now and then they would encounter minor threats such as roving bands of goblins or a lumbering troll that has come down from the rocky mountain slopes. To handle these instances there were defenses set up and warriors trained to deal with the enemies or any inside disturbances that may occur within their relatively peaceful home.
As you can imagine their small band of warriors were amazingly adept at dealing with minor threats but when a major war came over their mountains they were at a loss of what to do. The kingdom of Seria led by the great tyrant Dimitri Blackwell stormed over the great mountains protecting Diran; bringing war to the once quiet land. King Blackwell was ruthless in his invasion, slaughtering all that stood in his way. After only two years Blackwell succeeded in his invasion killing king Alan and his successors, as well as breaking the spirits of the people.
Your story starts twenty years after the initial en-slavery of the kingdom of Diran. All the nations people that are fit to fight are sent to Blackwell's grand gladiatorial arena to fight to the death and possibly for their freedom, though none have succeeded so far. Those that are not able bodied enough to fight are sent to the salt mines to labor away until they are nothing but husks of their former selves unable to even lift a pick anymore. When the miners finally pass away the bodies are loaded onto a cart and taken off never to be seen again. Some rumors say that King Blackwell reanimates the corpses and uses them to increase his armies power. Others say that his army is made up completely of cannibals and he feeds the corpses to his men to keep them satisfied. No one truly knows.
You are a slave taken away to the great arena to become a gladiator in the death games that King Blackwell enjoys to watch. Each individual will be put into teams of six, to fight against great beasts and terrible odds. This is the story of your team, this is your legend.
Jherek was cold and hungry, and he knew that his wife Mara was probably feeling even worse. Mara had been feeling sick for the past week so they had gone to the nearest town with a healer to find out what was wrong. It turned out that the news was actually good, Mara was pregnant! The couple was ecstatic and celebrated on their way back to their town... at least until they were greeted by a group of blood beards. A clan of crazed dwarves who attacked random unsuspecting travelers on the road and dipped their beards in the blood of their enemies believing it gave them more strength in battle. They attacked the couple who ran into the woods trying to lose the vicious band. After intense hours of running and hiding the dwarves gave up the chase and left to find other victims. This was how the couple came into their current situation, lost, hungry, and scared in the woods with night rapidly approaching.
The pair stumbled through the forest tripping on the occasional upraised root trying to find the road. When night eventually closed in around them snatching away their vision the couple gave up hope, at least until they heard music not to far away. They followed the enchanting melody until they noted a bright glow emitting from somewhere beyond the gnarled trees in front of them. Jherek and Mara hurried forward hoping that they had found the road. They burst out of the trees into a small meadow completely encircled by the forest with a man sitting by a campfire in the center of it.
The two approached the campfire drawn there by the music and the mouthwatering smell of something cooking over the fire. "Hello friends" said the man as his fingers danced on his lute pulling music from it. "Come sit by the fire and join me; if you are filling hungry then I have a nice pot of stew over the fire. I made far to much for just myself." he said with a smile. "Oh thank you sir!" Jherek said as he led his wife to sit by the fire. Normally he would have been cautious of such a man but for some reason he felt completely safe around him sensing no malice or hostility. "Is there anything we can do to pay you back?" Mara asked as she took the bowls the man gave her and ladled them full of the rich thick stew. The couple could now get a good look at the stranger who was now easily visible in the fire light. He had long hair and an attractive face. He wore a woven gold and black vest under a large forest green cloak to keep the chill out. "No need" The man said with a smile "My payment is your company and friendship for a night." Jherek and Mara thanked the man again and dug in eating the delicious stew and savoring every bite.
After they had finished Mara looked at the man with some embarrassment "I'm sorry we were so rude we didn't even ask your name."
"No offense taken, just call me Tale Weaver" He said pulling his lute into his lap and strumming a cord. "Tell me" He asked the couple "now that you have eaten your fill would you care to hear a story?" Jherek and his wife looked at each other and shrugged "I've always enjoyed a good story so why not" Jherek said. "Very good" responded the Tale Weaver. He strummed a chord on his lute and started off on his story his music adding a weight and magic to his words.
"This story is one from long ago about Diran the land you inhabit and the once great empire of Seria. We start our tale after the great tyrant, King Blackwell, sends his army over the Griffin Peak mountains to take over this beautiful land and enslave its people. Those were dark times where no hope was in sight, and all the people were lost. The citizens were captured and either forced to work in the salt mines, or fight in the gladiatorial arena. This is where we find the heroes of our tale. They are gladiators all strong in their own right and all from different backgrounds. Right now our heroes are in what the people of Seria call the gladiatorial stables meeting each other for the first time, and meeting their trainer for the first time too."
"Alright you **** ants!" the trainer shouted at the six gladiators lined up in front of him. He was a tall heavily built man with scars covering his arms and face. He favored wearing a light sleeveless tunic and loose breeches which somehow only helped show his muscles and old scars "You six have been chosen by some idiot desk jockey in the gladiatorial arenas operating staff to be stuck in a six man gladiatorial team. By some ungodly stroke of luck I have been selected to train you six pieces of crap to be able to survive in the arena!" He lectured walking up and down the line. "Now you will be given three meals a day and a nice floor to sleep on in that small building over there." He said pointing at the building on the edge of the practice field. " This here will be your training ground, you will spend all of your time except for meals and sleep working out here trying to make sure you wont die in your next fight. If you have any complaints then please tell someone who gives a damn, and If you try to escape you will be killed on the spot." The trainer stopped and glared at the gladiators. "Do any of you have questions? If not then go to the mess hall and get your first meal here and meet your healers. They will be your best friends from this day forward."
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Darastrix Dastudr couldn’t help but visibly frown, and with more than one reason. One being the all around “Mr. Feelgood”, sunshiny man who so eloquently introduced himself to the group in such a positive and welcoming manner, equivalent to that of an ass, in all three senses of the word. The second reason being the foulness of animal…leavings stinging his nostrils in the most unpleasant way possible, he would have to get used to it of course, adapting was the only way to survive this kind of life not that there was much choice.
For years now Dara, as we will now call him, had been fighting in games at small venues, those who could not afford to spend them selves at the coliseum would do so there, placing bets with petty cash on the victor. Now it seemed that it was seen fit to promote him into fighting in the Grand Coliseum of Seria; perhaps it was due to the agreement he had made not so long ago for the release of himself and his family, by fighting his way to victory and freedom. If that was indeed the case then it wouldn’t be much longer before his goal was achieved, but there was still a fear that he had been lied to, that his father had long since the last time he saw them were killed and that he fought for nothing. Dara shook those thoughts from his head, he couldn’t think like that now, not when he was so close, although one thing had never really factored in during his previous arena days: a team.
Beside him were five others; A boy no bigger than anyone else and couldn’t be any older than him and wore no expression, an elf woman who looked like she wouldn’t think twice about ripping a mans head off, a Nordic man whom was about the same build as their trainer, another man whim concealed his face with a mask and wore the attire of an archer, and a young woman who looked to his own age. Dara gazed at his hand, covered in leather wrapping around his palm to increase grip, and clenched it, then said to his new “team”, “Better get this over with eh?”
The gladiator began his stride to the building their trainer pointed out to, assuming the others followed. In little time he was at the barracks, and instead of more animal stench a more pleasant sent reached his nose, one that smelled of vegetables and spices. He came upon the mess hall, the room was small only big enough to fit everyone present and a handful more. There was a large boiling pot over a furnace in the corner, more than likely a stew which Dara had whiffed earlier. Also in the room were three other people; a half-elf, for Dara could tell his ears were not as prominent as most elves, with a small frame a pale face, a man with various bandages on him which was curious considering Dara was told only he and the others were gladiators, and… a very gentle young woman whom he assumed was his own age but had a ethereal presence about her. Nothing malevolent mind you, in fact it was a very soft and gentle presence that Dara couldn’t find a reason for.
His attention retuned to the pot, and asked them “I assume that’s for all of us right?” he managed a smile. He held out his hand to the older man assuming he was the senior attendant of the three “Name’s Dara by the way. I also assume you guys will be our healers?” He knew it would serve them well to get acquainted right away, for he knew not when they would be called to the arena.
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It had to be some kind of a joke, he was sure of that, but he didn't argue the matter any further. For the past few years he had been thrown into the arena, made to kill for the entertainment for the sick ******* that was now calling himself the ruler of this land, but a few days ago they had come to him, tended any wounds he had been carrying, and then sent him out to a new area he had yet to see before. It seemed to be for training, and there wasn't really anything there got a small shack, which is where he found himself presently.
He and two others, his memory was horrible and he couldn't recall their names, had been assigned to be healers for a handful of gladiators. So far all they had done was prepare a meal, a simple stew of meat and vegetables that had been provided for them by someone. It smelled delicious, and he was getting rather hungry.
Just before he made to ask the others, who seemed more in charge, or at least seemed to understand what was going on better than he, if it could have a bowl of the stew the door burst open and six figured walked into the shack. A small chill ran the length of his spine at the sight of them, and the animal within wanted out, but he kept it in check, and just to be sure, turned and walked back over to the far corner. He decided it would be best to allow everyone else to take what they wanted of the stew, then to get whatever might be left over. Doing so would upset the beast within, but he was in no mood to cause trouble so soon after being told he would no longer be forced to kill.
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Leilatha did not care too much about what was coming out of her “new” trainers mouth because she was too busy trying to get eyes adjusted to the sunlight. She never got much time in the sun because she was always either resting in the cages below the arena or in the infirmary. She couldn’t help but squint as she stood there straight as a board staring blankly ahead.
It did not take her long to snap out of her little trance hearing the trainer saying the world ‘team.’ Great. Knew there would be some catch to having a nice meal and being outdoors. That was the first time she actually looked up and down the line gazing at the others who stood next to her. At least I am not the only girl. Leilatha half smirked at her own little private joke before her face become emotionless again. Lets just hope they are not the type who want to be “best friends forever.” Leilatha knew that it would not be long until only five gladiators would exit the arena therefore there was no real need for her to become best friends with them because there was no time for grieving in their line of work. But who would be leaving first?…maybe if one of them happened to have an accident then maybe they would not have to continue this partnership. She faintly shook her head, she could not just let one of them die or could she?
Again her thoughts where interrupted as she noticed commander spit face walking away and some of the gladiators making their way to a small building a few metres away. What now? Leilatha followed slowly keeping her distance a little as she did not to be dragged into an conversations. She was more the type to listen and observe than talk.
Once inside her nostrils were filled with the scent of something spice and vegetarian. Her eyes spotted the pot where the delicious smell was coming from but then found them wondering towards the gladiator that spoke. She then noticed some new face, who she figured where the healers the team would be getting. She was not really the biggest fans of healers, although she does appreciate their work. She just hates all the touching that occurs when they are doing their job.
Leilatha decided that she would not participate in the introductions and instead get something to eat before it was all gone. She swiftly shuffled passed the group and towards the pot grabbing herself a bowl full before taking a seat on the table and digging in. The food was delicious and way better than her last meal of bread and water.
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Rowan Verrow eyed the others he stood next to carefully. It unnerved him a bit to think that he’d have to work with these people from now on. Not in the sense that he didn’t want comrades, but more in the sense that it scared him to bond with others. After all, what would happen if they were to be hurt? Or worse? His shook the thoughts out of his head as he listened to the group’s new ‘trainer’, a burly looking man who seemed very accustomed to the arena.
Rowan wiped the sweat from his forehead gently and wiped his hands on the somewhat long shorts he wore. It was hot in the stables, something Rowan was unused to considering his being forced into fighting not a year ago. The salt mines were harsh, but this was going to be on a whole new level than Rowan had faced before. I wonder if I’ll be able to handle it...? He thought, looking at his comrades once more. I wonder if I won’t hold them back?
Rowan’s thoughts, and worries were washed away at the mention of food. It had been a while since he had eaten a decent meal, and it sounded especially good about this time... He glanced over at the man beside him. A tall and strong looking man that seemed not much older than himself. “Right... sure.” He muttered in agreement with the man, keeping his sharp gaze steady the whole time.
Following the man into the mess hall, Rowan was hit with the strong and overpowering smell of food. He tried not to show his excitement as his mouth watered for the delicious food that he would soon be eating, provided that this food was indeed for him and his fellow gladiators.
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Kelyren's patience was wearing thin.
He toyed idly with a spoon, staring at the pot of food and wishing the new gladiators would arrive already so that he could eat. He hadn't eaten all day, and he was hungry.
I need to get my mind off food. Kelyren twirled the spoon around in his fingers again, and looked to the other two healers in the room. Both of them were strangers, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable in their presence. Anxious thoughts filled his head: Are they watching me? Do they know I'm looking at them? Who are they? Do they know how long we'll be waiting? I hope they didn't hear my stomach grumbling all this time...
He sighed, putting the spoon down before he gave into temptation and helped himself to a bowl of stew. Hopefully he could wait a few minutes longer. The gladiators were bound to be hungry, and they wouldn't delay themselves from a meal unless something forcibly detained them. Maybe something had happened. Maybe there was a mistake and -
The door swung open before he could finish the thought. Six gladiators strode in, and Kelyren eagerly looked up at the team he had been assigned to. He remained silent and kept to himself for now. Introductions would come later, or when someone asked him who he was.
He watched as one of the gladiators helped herself to a bowl of stew. She looked quite ferocious to him, and he quickly looked away, hoping that she would not take his gaze as a challenge or offense of some kind. His stomach growled again and he finally spoke up in a cheerful tone.
"I guess this means we can all dig in, right?"
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Bliss stood in the room among the five other solders, a dull ache reverberating in her mind in time with each heartbeat. Fortunately for her, it was the only thing that really stuck with her from the last battle she had; it wasn't a pretty one either. She had been lucky for that healer or else, she knew with certainty, she wouldn't be standing there listening to the man insult them with his petty comments at the moment. . . . Well, fortunate depending in whose eyes you looked in. She grimaced, trying to erase the battle from her head, not wanting to remember what fate the other guy had finished in. It hadn't exactly been much of a fair fight either, the guy had been all brawn and muscles with a huge longsword and Bliss had had the opportunity to fight him with a dagger. But apparently luck had been on her side because she had winded up as the victor and she loathed herself for it. She hated that she had to kill to keep herself alive, but at the same time it was as simple as kill or be killed and Bliss simply valued her life too much to let herself die.
She refrained the urge to shudder and instead tried to focus all of her energy on what was happening, not that she exactly wanted to. The man was ranting at them and Bliss thought it was ever so amusing. She felt her lip twitch and tried to stay blanked face, although it was rather hard where she swore she thought a vein prod from his forehead. Who had peed in this guy’s coffee anyways? She really hoped that he just happened to be angry and it wasn’t his real personality . . . because she pitied the person who had to put up with him every day; oh, wait. Although luck seemed to be on her side once more when he soon dismissed all of them, not knowing if she had enough self-control for her face to remain blank a second longer. Did he know how ridiculous he looked when he was that angry? His face was all red and blotchy and he seemed slightly out of breath from his rather large, angry rant about the six of them.
Her eyes followed her team mates as she lingered behind them for a bit, trying to at least figure them out. She glanced at the female first, feeling a slight sigh of relief. She didn't know how well she would fare only being surrounded by men, although the girl did look slightly distanced, almost as if she didn't really want others talking to her. She put that in a mental note, knowing she would forget it as soon as she got to the hall. The other one was a large man who seemed to be mostly muscles and Bliss felt a hint of relief knowing that he was on her side, she really wouldn't want to battle against him herself. Her next glance came a bit as a shock, as the guy had red scales on his arm. She felt the need to ask him if she would be allowed to touch them but banished that from her mind, not wanting to seem childish in front of any of them. Her next glance landed on a seemingly small looking boy although she didn't judge, she had learnt not to assume someone wasn't deadly just if they didn't look it. Although she felt a rather foolish urge to try and protect him from harm. The last glance was a human, like herself and as much as her eyes lingered on him, she couldn't exactly figure him out.
All of the thoughts about her fellow teammates popped out of her head as soon as she got the whiff of something delicious. Her stomach growled angrily and she realized just how long she had actually eaten and how ravenous she actually was. With a large smile on her face she followed the smell as well as her teammates and soon found herself in the gladiatorial stables. She found three other people and she couldn't help get the distinct feel of healers off of all of them. Bliss saw with content another girl that seemed to be really kind, much like the feel she got off of most healers. The other one was an elf and she grinned, finding herself to like him already for that sole fact. She had had an elven best friend when she was younger and was left with the assumption that all elves were that kind. That last one was another man and she felt herself not able to read him, like the human in the other room.
Bliss smiled, knowing that she would be stuck with these people for a while, or up until they got killed anyways. It would be beneficial for her to befriend them, besides, she needed someone to talk to or she would go mad. She shot them all a smile, even though no one was really paying much attention to her. "Hey guys, nice to meet you all. The name's Bliss, kinda a stupid name to have when you're a gladiator," She grinned at her own, lame joke and continued on. "But anyways, looks like we'll all be together for a while now, right? That's bound to be interesting," She told them all, her tone betraying her optimism.
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Sean was unsure of many things... He didn't know what the difference would be between the combat he knew and the arena everyone was so afraid of, or how well the others could fight, or what sort of training the scarred man had in mind, but he did know one thing... He was going to be forced to kill to survive.
He liked the sounds of it to be perfectly honest.
Sean was born to a nomadic clan of barbarian warriors, who fought not for territory or for supplies, but almost always for the thrill that came with battle. He had been raised to handle a sword since his arms were strong enough to hold one and had cleaved a man in two not many moons afterwards. He knew combat and killing better than he knew the language of this strange land, granted he knew little of the language in the first place. He knew how to say hello and his name, and ask for food, but short of that, he knew little else. His weapons and fists would have to speak for him on the battlefield then...
Sean clenched his fist in anticipation, a grin spreading on his face. He wore no armor, merely a large thick leather belt covering his stomach and a pair of loose-fitting brown breeches, the breeches having been given to him not long ago... prior to them, he had worn a mere loincloth. His body was also covered in quite a few scars, it being obvious that he had seen the wrong end of a weapon more times than he cared to remember... mostly due to his young age. His hair looked as though it hadn't been cut since birth, nor properly washed short of dunking it into a river and calling it a day. He glared at his sides at his new comrades, and saw that none of them looked to be as big or strong as him, and inwardly he wept. Not a warrior in the bunch... Sean decided that watching their backs would be a full time effort, and one not many of his clan ever cared to make for one man, much less five...
He would fight as though alone then... He doubted he'd need them to kill anything the arena sought fit to send to slaughter in the first place... unless it was more of those soldiers that had nearly wiped his clan from existence... He was one of the few to suffer the shame of being taken alive.
He tried to push the thought from his mind as he advanced toward the shack that held their food, nearly running to be the first to swing open the door, looking at the pot of stew as though it were the body of a woman. It was the first decent meal he'd had since his capture...
"Food" He said, his accent still very apparent and thick, grabbing a bowl and filling it to the brim before sitting down and began swallowing the broth straight from the bowl, plucking the meat and vegetables from the stew with his fingers. He heard some of the others speak, but paid them no mind, as his stomach took priority at the moment.
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Adriac Veras didn't sleep that night..not after regaining consciousness. He just sat against the wall of his cell silently, staring at a floor he could not see. How could I have failed? he thought to himself angrily, I had one real chance to be free and I ruined it. How did I not see that one soldier?!? The day before, Adriac had been brought to this arena as a prisoner. Those in charge wanted to find out if he was cut out for this sort of fighting..so they had scheduled a preliminary match between him and another gladiator would-be. Adriac had tried to take his only chance to escape.
The fools had given him his weapon of choice, a longbow. All of his life Adriac had practiced with it and killed with it. He had learned to use the magic within him to enchant arrows..making them even deadlier. As soon as the fight had begun, Adriac had launched an arrow enchanted with lightning into his opponent..the poor man was dropped instantly. Not wasting a second, Adriac had then proceeded to fire two arrows enchanted with fire into the crowd..they exploded on impact and drove the arena into chaotic panic.
He tried to use this distraction to get away, but one soldier had noticed him. Adriac didn't notice the man and was struck from behind, dropped to the ground unconscious. Now he was sitting in a cell in the Gladitorial Stables waiting to find out what was to become of him.
Strangely enough, when morning came, nobody said anything to him. He was told to get up with the other five, but nothing more. Apparently they had decided to keep him around. All night Adriac had struggled with a splitting migraine, and now it was so deeply set in that he closed his eyes to avoid torchlight. Even as he opened them briefly to keep his bearings while following the others, he didn't look any of them in the eye. These people were unimportant.
Adriac had mostly resigned himself already. There was little chance of another opening to escape. He had spent so many years running from this life, and now he was trapped in it. So many soldiers killed by his hand to delay this fate, but it was inevitable. They had reached the room with the stew now, but Adriac's eyes remained closed. His head felt like it was tearing itself apart, and he was nauseus. The archer stood there listening only to his thoughts.
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The trainer, Jacob, paced around outside in the training field waiting for the delivery. He had a special surprise planned for the newbies and it was about ten minutes late. He was getting impatient; it wasn't enough that he was forced to take care of these misfits now he was stuck out here in this godforsaken field baking in the heat. These **** ants he was given were supposed to be the best the gladiatorial arena had to offer, at least that's what he had been told when he accepted this job offer. For some reason he doubted that statement, and even if they were the best the arena had to offer fighting as a team is on a whole different level than fighting solo.
After a few more minutes of brooding Jacob heard the clip clop of hooves down the way. "Ahh there it is" he said with a small smile of satisfaction. Jacob waved the cart down and pointed it towards the small arena that the gladiators used for a practice field. He would let the newbies eat for a little while longer, but then they would get to meet his little greeting present.
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Only after all the others had gotten their food did William go back to the pot for his own bowl, his stomach now growling. During the introductions, and there had been but a few, he had sat silently, watching and listening, trying to place names and faces together in his memory so they could be used later. This was a daunting task, however, due in large to the beast. It was hungry, more hungry than he was in truth, and so he had to keep him fought back. Sometimes he liked to image the beast deep inside him, locked within a huge iron bar cage...
After getting his bowl of stew he makes his way back to his little corner, plops down, and begins to eat, soothing his stomach and the beast's as well. The growling, of both his stomach and mind, was slowly fading as he ate.
But then he smelled something, over the normal smells of this place, and the people within the shack, and the stew. Horses. At least one, maybe a few more, pulling something he was sure, because now he could hear their hooves on the ground, and was sure there was another noise, like wheels turning. This was a side effect of his lycanthropy. Even in his human form his scenes were heightened, like those of a wolf. He could smell and hear things more acutely, and at a greater range, than normal people. Sometimes, if he concentrated, he could even see in the dark, with no light at all.
"We have company..." he mutters, to anyone who might happen to be close enough to hear, should they have bothered to be listening.
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Kelyren found that his question was answered soon enough, and got up to help himself to some food. He ladled stew into his bowl until it threatened to spill over the edge, and made his way over to where he had been sitting. He ate slowly, taking great care not to make a mess. Unfortunately, the stew did not taste as good at it smelled. Food was food, though, so he ate without complaint.
He glanced at the others who had gotten a bowl of food, watching them in the hopes that he might be able to learn a bit about them from how they were eating. He couldn't help but notice the large, bearded man devouring his bowl of stew with his bare hands, and shifted away from the gladiator slightly. No doubt he's a barbarian of some kind... he sure eats like one, Kelyren thought as he turned his attention to the man in the corner. Now this guy. One of the other healers. He seems sorta quiet to me, maybe he's the kind of guy who keeps to himself.
Kelyren was close enough to hear him say something about having company.
"Company?" he asked after swallowing a mouthful of food. "You mean, the rest of us who are crammed into the mess hall with you?" He grinned as he spoke, gesturing around at the others with his spoon. "Or do you mean to say that we have another unexpected guest who's about to show up?"
Kelyren spooned up a large chunk of meat and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly as he waited for a reply.
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Out of the corner of her eye Leilatha noticed a set of eyes staring at her as she ate. She decided not to turn to the person and ask what his problem was but instead just watch him from the corner of her eye. Leilatha could hear his stomach growing as he quickly looked away from her. Why doesn’t he just eat? She knew he was a healer since she could not recall seeing his face outside. He must think that one of them will hit him if he does eats. But that would be a very unintelligent thing to do because we need him for his healing skills.
Her attention was drawn away from the healer and towards the only other female gladiator as she spoke. She was smiling cheerfully and acting all polite as she told them her name and how ‘interesting’ it will be to work together. She is almost like a child. How can she have survived all her fights when she is so small and looks so fragile and innocent? This must be some kind of act. Leilatha could not help herself and had to turn her body a little to get a better look at Bliss. She could see Bliss’s battle wounds and scars but did not understand how a girl like her could take on anyone and survive. Maybe she is one of those magic people….or maybe she has got some other secrets. Must keep an eye on her in the next battle.
Leilatha returned to her bowl of food and continued to eat noticing that another person had taken a seat on the table with their bowl of stew. He was devouring his meal like an animal but then again who would not be if they had not had a decent meal in days. And for his size he surely needs to have seconds or even thirds therefore the faster he eats the more likely there would be food still left over. It did not bother her too much because her body had already adjusted to having not much food and therefore she would not have to eat so much to be full.
It did not take long for someone else to speak which aggravated her a bit, and she tossed her spoon onto the table with frustration. Can’t I eat in peace. It was one of the healers who said we had company arriving. And like most conversation someone had to reply and it was Mr Stare. Since she did not know the name of the healer who was staring at her earlier she decided to just call him Mr Stare. Leilatha picked up her spoon again, this time having a much tighter grip on it then before as she scooped up some stew. Please let this be a dream. Do not make me have to deal with a bunch of babbler mouths.
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Sean finished his stew and let out a belch as he wiped the broth off of his mouth. The food was about as good as the rushed meals his clan had made, so the quality mattered little to him, but couldn't help but notice some of the others weren't as enthusiastic about their meal as he was.
"Go on, eat. Make strong like Sean" He said, knowing he probably butchered the words, but the others should still get the gist of what he said. He laughed at himself and looked about at the others, then realized he had yet to introduce himself. He slapped his chest and stood up, puffing himself up to seem as large as possible.
"I Sean of Hollifield Tribe! I kill bear with fists!" He said, nearly yelling it. Normally, this would have been responded to with cheers and roars of approval, then another would stand and make another such introduction. When this didn't occur, Sean pointed to Bliss, mostly because he was curious why she was counted amongst the warriors, and maintained the same tone as earlier as he asked "You! Who you are? What you kill?". He planned on asking this of everyone should they not join in... Granted it was a good way of seeing how confident one was with their strength in battle as well as knowing the toughest foe they'd defeated, which is all Sean's clan really cared about if you were a man. If anyone else had mumbled anything during his boasts and shouting, he could not hear them...
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Dara followed the other’s example by taking a bowlful for himself, though the meal wasn’t entirely a peaceful one as a few others displayed that they were the more enthusiastic of the bunch. This earned a small smile from him, at someone was making the best of things. The girl whom called herself Bliss introduced herself in a rather bubbly out way, uncharacteristic in this kind of life. One of their healers mentioned something about company arriving but it was somewhat muttered under his breathe so Dara didn’t pay too much attention. The Nordic man introduced himself in an outburst that was laid think with a heavy accent which the dragonborn descendant recognized, shouting “Hollifield Tribe!” confirmed what language was his native one; a draconic dialect. Fortunately Dara had been taught some by his living ancestors.
The man rose, made his way to Sean and struggled a bit to find the right words, but eventually did so, “Uh, vi…vi…Vinult thurirl, dout dastudr geou qe kashora.” Hail friend, your strength will be appreciated. Dara recognized right away that forming bonds now, as formal as they may be, was better than fighting alongside complete strangers who knew nothing of what the others would do. Speaking to the barbarian in his own tongue was probably a decisive move, fortunate that their culture has assimilated parts of the Dragonborns’ in centuries past.
He said to the rest, “Our friend here is a little…blunt, but he has the right idea, if we’re going to do anything together we should at least know our names and skills.” He then gestured to Bliss, “I believe you already introduced yourself Bliss.” Dara returned to a neutral stance and said, “As for me my full name is Darastrix Dastudr, but just call me Dara; I specialize in long swords and axes. Now none of you have to give their life story if you don’t want to, a name and skill set is fine.”
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Rowan spent no time collecting a bowl of stew and finding a seat, somewhat seperated from his more confident teammates. It unnerved him slightly to think that the others were so calm and resolute in their own abilites and yet he himself was still feeling quite nervous. He spooned the stew slowly, bit by bit into his mouth as he listend and watched the others carefully. After all, he wanted to learn his teammates mannerisms as soon as possible. It would be nearly essential for him to know how they act when in combat together, this much he could piece together. Though most of what he heard seemed irrelevant, like the sound of a spoon being banged on a table and the jumbled words of 'Sean', one of his new teammates. He made quick glances at the healers that he hoped to avoid visiting later, one in particular caught his interest. A girl who seemed completely unfit for this place, but he brushed the idea away. Currently, he needed to understand his teammates.
His thoughts raced wildly. I see. So there's Sean, the spoon-throwing Miss, Dara who specializes in swords and axes, and... He turned to look at the remaining warriors he would soon be fighting alongside. One, a young woman, seemed not much older than himself and the other... The masked man. Rowan didn't know what to make of him. After all, the person hadn't spoken a word to any of the others. Then again, Rowan hadn't said much either. With a slight sigh, he resigned his silent observation and decided it was time he spoke once more. "Rowan." He began, with a slight nod towards the others. "I suppose you could say I specialize in quick striking and footwork. If I had to give you my best weapon, I'd say it's the broadsword." He finished, blinking his cold stare. "It's nice to meet you all."
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Bliss looked around at the busy faces, most seemed to be trouble. She sighed softly, knowing that it wasn't exactly the best situation to be in but it wasn't like any of them had much of a choice in the matter. They might as well make it as pleasant as possible, Bliss didn't exactly want to die in an unpleasant mood, she might as try and make the time she had left and make it as pleasant as possible. Now with the new possibility of making friends that had just arose, well, it was a rather good deal. She loved the company of another person and it had been way too lonely fighting alone, the concept of someone watching her back always made her feel a lot more safe. Not to mention that their chance of survival practically skyrocketed with now 5 other people in the team, and apparently some of the best too from what she had overheard. And peering around the room her burst of confidence was proven right. If these people were her teammates, all of their chances of survival would soar and if they really did become popular enough, they might be given the chance to leave. She grinned from her optimistic thoughts and approached the pot of food, having waited for the crowd to clear out a bit before she grabbed a bowl full along with a spoon and went to sit near the main crowd of people, taking a few bites.
Her thoughts were slightly interrupted by the large man, whose name now she had learnt to be Sean, announcing that he killed bears with his bare hands. Bliss couldn't help to giggle quietly, immediately liking the big guy. If she were to make friends here, and hopefully she would with everyone because in her mind she was already great friends with all of them, Sean was definitely one she wanted to have. She grinned at him, his comment making people listen to him, which made her happy because now people were starting to speak. It had peaked at their interest, the possibility of finding the fighting skills of their teammates was probably the most important thing that they could learn about each other. The guy with had the red scales on his arm was next to speak up, his name being Dara and he apparently specialized with long swords and axes. She nodded her head along with the statement, she saw that guy wielding an axe just about as she saw Sean handling a some dangerous weapon with a massive weight, it just seemed to support how they both looked. The next warrior to stand was the guy she had thought to look rather young, but she knew not to judge on looks. And she was right, he probably fought in the same manor she did, rely on the others opponents heavy footing against their swiftness and seeing as how their techniques were rather uncommon, not a lot of people acknowledged it and just put them off as useless. Although she frowned a bit at his rather formal and cold tone, was something bothering him?
She shrugged the thought off and grinned at all of the others once more, even though most of them acted rather formally, she suspected that she was surrounded by good people. Well, as good as you could be when you killed people so you could live yourself. "Well, like Dara said, you guys already know my name's Bliss. And for you Sean, I kill the people they tell me to kill in the arena." She shrugged, like it really wasn't a big deal, although the words did bother her to say. She hated killing, even if it were to let herself live, it made her nothing better than a murdered really. "Unfortunately though, I’ve yet to kill a bear, especially with my bare hands, sorry Sean. And I kick ass with daggers, preferably twin ones. They're always great fun to fight with," She winked as she told them light heartedly, taking another bite of the stew, noticing how good it actually was. The treatment was better here too, a lot better than the smaller arenas that she had been used to.
The small grin on her face still lingered, trying to increase the energy of the room. It seemed she was in a rather dull and unhappy atmosphere, which didn't surprise her, but she still didn't enjoy it. She dislikes seeing others in such a sad mood, in made her mood falter slightly. Her gaze turned to the other girl in her team along with the masked guy, who had still yet to speak. Her gaze also turned to the three healers who weren't speaking much as her gaze lingered on each of them. Those would be the people inwardly saving her life, which she was grateful for. Her last healer had been a bit of a **** though and she hoped that these three would be a lot nicer, not that you really had to be nice to the dying person, just heal their wounds. Although that didn't snuff that flame of hope she was feeling and just contniued to eat, absentmindedly scratching at one of her wounds.
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William was a little startled when someone actually responded to him. More often than not he was ignored outside of the arena, unless they knew what he was hiding, then they deliberately kept away from him. Or they just didn't like him. Either way, he paused in eating his stew to speak further to the man, but then a large man who looked as if he should he carrying a large tree limb with him, rose and began to speak, rather badly. He was obviously from a different land, but William understood him well enough. The other one who spoke to him, in some other language, made more sense bet something about him was off. He wasn't fully human, but then again neither was William, and so he soon forgot about this as others began to speak.
Between the one who asked to be called Dara, and the man named Rowan, William finally spoke.
"I can hear horses approaching," he says quietly, staring down into his bowl, moving around a chunk of meat with his spoon, "I don't know what's going on, but I think they're bringing something here..." Pausing, he listens to the others a bit longer, trying to decide if it would really mean anything for him to speak up. From what he understood of things, he wasn't going to be doing much, mostly keeping house except for before and after fights, "You can call me...Fangs..."
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Kelyren twitched as Sean introduced himself, he watched the large warrior state his name, tribe, and profession. Killing bears with his fists? Sean certainly looked like he was capable of it, but Kelyren found himself grinning at the spectacle. Announcing to a bunch of strangers that you could kill bears with your fists was quite a way to break the ice...
He turned his attention to the others as they introduced himself, taking note of their appearances and names, working on etching them into his memory so that he could recognize them easier. He was already taking a liking to the outgoing gladiator girl - Bliss, according to what she said. Odd name to give a warrior.
She's a lot friendlier than the other gladiators... though I bet she's just as dangerous as the rest of them. He blinked when she looked at him, but thankfully "Fang" replied to his question, giving him a good opportunity (and excuse) to break eye contact with Bliss.
"Horses, huh." Kelyren looked down at his empty bowl of food and glanced over at the pot, debating whether or not he should grab a second helping. "Maybe they're some rich visitors coming to watch a match. Or maybe you're right and they're bringing something here. Either way, I don't mind as long as I don't have to deal with 'em." He shrugged and gave the group a small grin. "My name's Kelyren, by the way. I'm one of the lucky people who gets to patch everyone up after the fun's over."
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Sean smiled as the others began to speak, glad that they were finally getting into the spirit of things. He had begun to get the impression that the others weren't excited about fighting. He'd long since thought the men who had captured him to be fools, allowing him to train and kill and sticking him in chains around others who acted like this was a punishment. He had been having a blast the years he'd been in the arena as a single combatant, taking the opportunity to get stronger and attempt to locate the others of his clan. He'd yet to so far, which only made him feel stronger.
He was the only one so far to survive.
Then something happened that threw him for a loop... one of the others, one that looked like he had scales on his arms, spoke to Sean in his clan's language. Sean looked at him with a perplexed look on his face, then poked him in the head a few times as though studying him.
"wux tir ti vorq hefoc ir di sia clan... svanoa tir wux ukris hefoc astahi?" You do not look like one of my clan... How do you talk like them He asked, then began laughing as he swung his arm around Dara's neck and pulled him into a headlock, which was the closest Sean ever got to hugging someone.
"thric selgtarn, dout ivah xurwkic ve gneshgnesh vur wux relgra ve versvesh! wux re sia ressan jaka!" No matter, your voice makes me laugh and you called me strong! You are my ally now! He yelled before releasing Dara from his grip and continued his laugh, turning to Bliss as she answered his earlier question.
"Dagger? What those? And why two? One broken?" he asked, again donning a perplexed face. His clan had encountered daggers before, but had been in the woods for most of Sean's life and so he had never seen one in person, and only knew it by the name from his own tongue: Beetnekil. or "eating sword" as they often mistook it for an eating utensil for carving meat. Being caught up in his thoughts, Sean mostly ignored the conversation about horses as no one had said anything about eating them and knew better than to think they would be riding them, as well as William's and Kelyren's introductions. His attention span was as short as he was big...
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Leilatha was astonished to hear the largest man in the group to speak she surely thought he would be too busy stuffing his face. She was also surprised that he could not speak their language fluently. Well at least his name is easy to pronounce. A number of introductions followed after that which she decided to pay attention since they weren’t very long and it would be very helpful to know their skills in order to find their weakness. You never know, teammates have turned on each other before.
The next was a gladiator who appeared to know the language Sean spoke. This could be a problem. They are sure going to form a bond with each other with this language and therefore would be able to easily plot against me and any of the others without us knowing. She frowned a little before listening on, the gladiator continued saying his name was Dara and that he specializes in long swords and axes. Interesting. Next came someone she had not yet taken the time to fully analyse, he stated his name was Rowan and like the Bliss girl seemed rather small in size. Which she knew was an advantage for him when he spoke about being quick on his feet and his weapon of choice being broadsword. He also seemed to have a rather gloomy presents around him which she liked since she wasn’t much of a talker either.
The other female gladiator spoke again in the same cheerful tone as before. Leilatha decided to block most of her voice out and only take note of the important parts as she finished off her stew. Bliss uttered that she was skilled with daggers which would make her useful for close combat.
She then heard the faint voice of the healer from earlier saying how he could hear horses approaching. His right. Leilatha blocked out all other noises and just listened out for horse hoofs and finally heard them. It was not just one horse but a couple, and they were pulling something heavy. She returned her attention to the healer just in time to hear him say that his name was Fang. Mr Stare was next; he came up with some ideas of what might be getting brought to their training arena before introducing himself as Kelyren. Let’s hope these boys are as good with their hands and patching up skills as they are in talking. She smirked to herself.
There was silence for a moment as she noticed only a few people where left to make introductions and she was one of them. Great! Let’s just get it over and done with. She pushed the bowl away from herself and stayed seated in her chair. “I am Leilatha…and my weapon of choice would be small blades,” she spoke hard-heartedly without making eye contact with anyone. She could have easily told them some of her other skills but decided not to, since most of them were larger and stronger than her she was not about to give them even.
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Jacob finished helping the driver unload the front seat of the transport wagon. The driver leaned on the wagon and rapped his knuckle against the side “So what do you need all these beasties for?” he asked. The wagon suddenly started rocking back and forth with an unearthly chatter echoing from the inside. Jacob gave the driver a wicked smile “They are going to be a little present to my new friends.”
"Remind me to never invite you to a winter festival party" The driver said with a skeptical look.
Jacob laughed and patted the man on the back as he headed toward the mess hall. "Just wait here for a bit while I go grab today's entertainment" Jacob called back over his shoulder.
The trainer arrived at the mess hall throwing the door open. "All right people!" he yelled "I hope you've all eaten your fill cause it's time to go! Gladiators line up in the practice arena by the cart out there, it should be an easy enough task for you incompetents to accomplish. Healers I want all of you out there too, sit in the stands though so you will be safe." Jacob turned around and headed back towards the cart expecting his orders to be followed without question.
Adriac had watched each of the introductions in turn, annoyed by the end to his blessed silence. The migraine had somewhat dissipated, but the pain was still lingering. He had felt too sick to eat, and had just sat in a corner of the room. As he had hoped, there was no time for him to be forced into making his own introduction. A man had burst into the room, ordered them around, and left.
The archer rose, thinking about these new teammates of his. They were nothing like those he had fought alongside and watched die for years. The closest one seemed to be Leliatha, as she had been quiet and quick. No surprise that such a person would opt for a stealthy, yet lethal, choice of weapon. Adriac also had his curiousity tickled by the man named Dara. He seemed of a higher class of being than these others.
Thinking more deeply about it as he walked towards the door, Adriac realized each of these others had something interesting about them. Sean was loud and brutish, but appeared very strong. His interest in Dara had already been expressed. Bliss seemed too happy to be a gladiator, perhaps she had an illness. Leliatha was quiet, which only differentiated her from Rowan in the fact that she seemed cautious while Rowan simply seemed nervous. None of this really mattered to Adriac though.
Even some of the healers had spoken, but Adriac didn't care about healers. He didn't plan to fight. If he had to fight, he didn't plan to get hurt. If he got hurt, he hoped to not survive. Oh well, not following orders would not get him killed..it would only cause these soldiers to make the remainder of his life miserable. Adriac was the first out the door.
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She had grown up in the shadow of the arena. The screams of the crowd woke her up in the morning and the dying rasp of the dead was her lullaby. Even her mother’s sweet singing couldn’t drown out the noises of the ‘Sport’ that her greatest enemy concocted.
Is it treasonous to rebel against the King? Even if I only think the thoughts? She thought, as the last member of her team looked up at her. His head resting on her lap, as his thick, blood matted hair stained her white gown. His brown eyes wrought with fear; his large bloodstained hands clutched to one of hers. His grip was loose; his strength was waning. She watched as his throat worked, as more blood gushed forth from the narrow slit across his throat. The blood felt warm upon her dress, sticky… smelled metallic. She felt her stomach roll, a bead of sweat running down the side of her face.
How could such small wound bleed so much? she asked herself, her face impassive, as she held onto his hand. With her free hand she reached into her pouch and pulled out two vials. The clear solution was escape from pain and misery. The blue vial was a chance. A chance to survive and fight another fight for the sick King that loved seeing his enslaved people kill one another. Her team knew what the choice was that she offered to them.
She watched as his eyes lingered on the vial with the clear liquid and she nodded. She uncorked it and held it to his lips. Her lips moved in a silent prayer that he’d be able to swallow. She watched as the liquid dribbled over his lips, running down to blend and be consumed by blood. She tilted her head back, the icy façade fading from her face, as the torment showed, consumed by utter hatred for what her father’s kind had to do. She breathed out and allowed the mask to descend over her face again before she leaned down and kissed the man’s forehead, as she freed her hands and brought them both down over his mouth and nose. He didn’t struggle. He watched her with a look of relief. She never looked away.
The guards found her an hour later. The body of her teammate wrapped in the red funeral shroud of her people. The shroud that she made by hand. She stood in the corner of the room; her gown no longer red with blood but a pristine-white. Her face looked tired and drawn.
“Ice-Queen,” one guard said. Her name was Sylvani. He knew that, but Ice-Queen fit her better. She had been in the ring for five years as a healer, yet it was because of her father and Alrun that they knew her so well. She was the female that was unbreakable. The one that watched slaughter and death and moved on. No one heard her scream out at night from the nightmares that plagued some. No one saw her shed a tear for those that died. Her team, gone, and there she stood, as if nothing had happened. “You’ve been put with a new team.”
Her silver-eyed gaze was cold, as she leveled it on a guard. Her face was pale, as she strode forward her small feet barely touching the ground. She paused in front of him. Her right brow arched higher, as she stared at him. She rarely spoke, and when she did… it was quiet. She would not be talking to this guard. Not to this harbinger of bad news. Another team. Another six people to watch die while she fought to keep them alive.
It was a bad idea to wage war against the King. Even though the war was private and resided only in the Elven-woman’s mind. She smoothed her hands over the white gown that she wore, translucent over her stomach but solid white over the rest of her body. The dress exposed most of her back, and the slit on the left side showed the expanse of creamy white skin. The faux-gold jewelry was affixed to her wrists and around her neck. She dressed not like the people of the city but like her mother’s people. Her people. The Aubade people. She left her long pale-gold hair free, affixed back from her face only by a simple clip that was over her curved ears. To many, she would seem human if not for the fact that she was six feet tall and too lithe to be human. Elf-kin. Close to the correct word. Dawn-followers. Aubade. The song for lovers that must part at dawn or risk meeting a deadly fate. Her people, the wanderers that sang the sad songs of days gone. She knew the songs, for they resided in her heart, coiled beneath the ice-defense that she had erected all those years ago.
“Hey!” the guard yelled to her. “You have to go to the seventh Trainer. You know the one. Burly guy. Likes swearing. He’s got a good record for keeping these guys alive. Maybe you’ll be lucky and they will survive a year. That’d be a new record for you, wouldn’t it?” he jeered.
The King’s Guards.
Bastards.
Her back straightened as if ice-cold water had been thrown over her. She turned and moved back to him, her hand drew back, curled, and slammed against the man’s jaw. She felt the bones in her hand crunch and the pain spike white-hot through her body but already she employed a precious amount of magic to the pain, healing it. “One day,” she promised the guard who was gingerly touching his bruised jaw. “It will be you in the ring, and you will beg me to heal you… and I will laugh,” she swore. Her voice was soft as the wind through a willow tree but the intensity and angry made the man straighten. She ignored the look of warning that he gave her, as she turned and moved from the infirmary towards the barracks. She made an enemy out of any that willingly wore the King’s colors.
She moved through the training yard, keeping to the shadows. White was a distraction for many. A sudden color among the black, brown, green… the normal colors of those that couldn’t afford the rich sable colors of the King and nobility.
A voice rang over the courtyard, and she sighed. It could only belong to Jacob. She wondered what he was going to be doing to his new recruits. If it was anything like what Alrun had gone through… she quickened her pace. She would hate to lose one of her new gladiators because he or she got injured during one of Jacob’s brilliant training ideas.
She moved to the practice courtyard but didn’t move up to the seats. She perched close by, her sharp sight allowing her to see the trainer. She wondered when would be the best time to go over to him and let him see that she was going to be part of his group. She wondered what he’d say. She wondered if she’d ask her to pick up a sword. Other trainers thought it was funny that the Aubade woman couldn’t lift a sword that even the weakest woman could lift with one hand. Yet, the trainers knew that the weaker she was physically… the stronger she was magically. She kicked at a clod of dirt, as she looked over the gladiators. A woman. She liked that. She liked seeing women survive. It proved to the king that women were not as… docile as he might have hoped. A female elf? She studied the other a bit closer. They were not of the same elf-kin. She decided with a pang of sadness that she shoved away. She studied a man with golden eyes, trying to figure out what he was and then her eyes landed on the scales and she nodded. Her attention kept moving. There was another smaller male with pale hair. She found it amusing. She wasn’t used to being taller than men. The same height, yes, but not taller. She looked at the very tall…brute of a man. She hoped he would do well. There was another human that she could see. There was another woman, Sylvani noted. Two women? She wondered if the King was growing more cruel. The crowd always feared more for their women-folk.
The healers she gave a more cursory glance. Her attention was always on the gladiators. Once that team was gone… then she would be reassigned. The healers helped keep the fighters alive, but she rarely grew any sort of camaraderie with them. She saw another with slightly pointed ears, and a wild sort of man. Healers, she knew, came in a strange rag-tag bunch.
She bounced on the toes of her feet, feeling the herbs in the pouch shift. The ground around her, what little grass there was that hadn’t been trampled into the dirt, withered and died and the Aubade woman seemed better for it. More energized. Then, back to the Ring and Jacob. What was he going to release? She doubted it was going to be cute and cuddly.
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Jacob leaned on the transport cart as the gladiators followed and lined up in front of him, while the healers took to the stands. "Ok you incompetents I have two pretty little surprises for you!" Jacob grabbed the boxes that he had removed from the front of the cart and pried them open. He pulled out the contents of the boxes revealing seven different long links of chains with cuffs on the end of each. The shackles were around four feet long each and made out of heavy material. Jacob pulled out the shackles and tossed one to each of the gladiators. "Put these on. They are going to be the first weapon that you receive! These chains are going to be part of you from now on, you will eat, sleep, and train with these on you. They have all been enchanted to prevent chafing. For you weaker gladiators I had some lighter chains made, I don't want you dieing because you can't move. They will be lighter but weaker on the offensive" Jacob clamped the seventh chain onto his wrist and and started spinning the length around over his head. "Do not underestimate the chain! they symbolize weakness to some but you can make that weakness your strength!" Jacob spun the chain faster and swung it at one of the empty boxes smashing it to splinters. "These are weapons of a deadly caliber, and if you have any inkling of using these on me or the guards around this area then think again. The mages under my control have put tracking spells on you when we first met so you CANNOT escape!"
Jacob started spinning his chain around his head again and then smashed the lengths into the side of the wooden transport wagon. The chain punched a fist sized hole through the side of the wagon. The transport started shaking violently and a loud chattering noise started from inside the wagon. "This is my second surprise" Jacob said with a predatory grin "You will be fighting one of my favorite practice enemies. They are basic, fairly weak, but they are persistent which makes them deadly. Also me promising them their freedom if they kill all of you and giving them daggers probably helps with the danger." Jacob walked around the front of the cart and rested his hand on the pin keeping the door closed. " I hope all of you can work as a team cause i know these little bastards can" Jacob said as he pulled the pin and threw the door releasing ten goblins out onto the field. The goblins paused for a minuet as the sunlight hit their eyes and blinded them as they climbed out. They would be stunned and blinded for the next few seconds.
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After Jacob had finished speaking, Sean understood little of what he had actually said, but knew two things. One was that the chain he was given could be used as a weapon, and two, that they were to use this weapon on whatever was in the wagon. So while Jacob was going through his rather wordy speech, Sean had been trying out the whip move he had done earlier with limited success. He was used to slinging heavy objects around, but the whip motion required timing and finesse, two things Sean lacked. So rather than struggle with that move during the actual fight, Sean wrapped the chain around his fist and grinned at what he believed to be a clever use for the chain.
He also imagined a rock at the end, but was unsure of how to keep the rock in place... He was too young to yet be taught how to work iron in his clan and so only knew how to use the weapons, not make or repair them. That was a job for the elders who had lost their fire in battle, so that they may still lend a hand to shedding blood on the battlefield.
As the small reptile people emerged from the wagon, Sean couldn't help but laugh. Not only were they small and sickly looking, their swords were smaller than they were. He had been expecting something big and ferocious, like lions or maybe barbarians of another tribe.
"Small things squish easy... not even fit to eat" Sean said as he tensed his body, releasing all resemblance of control over himself and let out a terrible roar as he charged forward, now barreling down on the group of goblins. The fist with the chain was at Sean's neck, ready to slam the back of his fist into the first thing that got in his way, then grab whichever of the goblins was closest and try to use him as a club. This was assuming they stood around and let him of course...
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Rowan had already finished his meal when the gladiators’ grateful host Jacob barged in exploding into what seemed to Rowan as his ‘normal’ banter. Sheesh... He thought with a sigh, as he followed the others out of the mess hall. For now, it was time to try his hand at fighting. It made him nervous to think about, considering he would now have to be much more careful of his movements. I hope I don’t hold them back... He eyed the others once more as Jacob began speaking.
After hearing that his first weapon would be a chain, he was somewhat surprised, though he made note to expect things like this from that point onward. Though Rowan had spent a great deal of time in shackles within the salt mines, he never once used them as a weapon. It also slightly embarrassed him to be given lighter chains due to his size. It made him feel insecure and weak compared to the others, but he wasn’t going to give up yet. I’ll prove to them I have what it takes. He reassured himself. Watching carefully as Jacob gave an example of the damage a chain could cause, Rowan made note of the movements and length of the chain. He already had a plan on how he was going to use the weapon, now it was just a matter of seeing whether it would work or not. On that note, he attached the shackle of the chain to his right ankle and grabbed the other end of the chain with his left hand, making sure to leave enough of the chain to allow for running.
The second ‘surprise’ was not something Rowan was as happy about. Their enemy for the first group battle was going to be a group of ten goblins armed with daggers and a thirst for bloodshed. Though Rowan had never had to fight one before, he did know that the creatures were clever in groups. This unnerved him a bit. We better learn to cooperate quickly... He thought, all while keeping his cold stare. That was, until he saw Sean rushing at the goblins without hesitation. "Damn it..."
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Chains? Really, chains? To say it was unorthodox would be an understatement. What sense did it make to use chains for their first trial? Basic weapons like swords, maces, knives, and hell even a net would make more sense, but chains? Dara could only conclude that it was the sadistic pleasure of their trainer that forced them to use these. He was sure from what his teammates had said about their abilities that none of them were trained to use these; never the less Jacob “encouraged” them to do so.
Dara had wished they had been given some time to fool around with them a bit, find a way to manipulate them to each person’s advantage, but before they could do anything Jacob unleashed a troop of little monsters for them to contend with. He saw Sean attempt a move they saw Jacob execute with the weapon, but fail for lacking the dexterity to do so. After which he saw Sean wrap the chain around his fist making Dara note the adaptive quality of the man. Dara applied the shackle to his wrist, and experimented a bit, a little difficult at first but managing to find a style akin to overhand sword techniques, if he had a bit more practice he would do more but felt this was sufficient for the moment.
The whole time our draconic man had worn a great scowl on his face, almost seething, mostly directed to their “trainer”, he didn’t know who stuck up what in that man’s ass but it was clear that it was way in there. Dara’s gaze traveled to the goblins, chattering and bobbing up and down like small apes getting ready to attack a rival tribe.
The scaled man’s scowl reversed somewhat at Sean’s outburst to the “squish-able” small things, however when the burliest of them charged with out warning Dara’s mouth gaped a bit before shouting, “Sean wait! There are too many…****!” It was now inherently obvious that the barbarian was now deaf to them. He shifted himself toward the others and resisted barring his teeth, “No time for a plan, we have to go in after him. Go!”
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The goblins rubbed their eyes and blinked rapidly trying to adjust their vision to the sunlight. This was a chance for their freedom and they wouldn't lose because of a little sunlight. Suddenly the goblins heard a great roar and loud thundering steps heading towards them. They all turned to look at the source of the sound and noted a great blur barreling towards them. The lead goblin realized the danger to late and received a great thundering back fist to the face in a bone crunching blow sending it flying into its comrades. The other nine goblins pushed their comrades corpse away dodged out of the way of the great man and circled around behind him chattering up a storm communicating to each other in a rapid way their eye sight clearing so they could now take in what was going on. Two of the goblins leapt towards the great mans back holding their blades high wanting to skewer him between his shoulders blades. The other six ,believing that their companions could finish of the barbarian, circled around the left over gladiators still chattering in their unearthly language. They were going to aim for the scaled one first. They hated all draconic races because of a crushing defeat their clan suffered years ago from a group of dragonsborns, and this man showed signs of being related to the race. They slowly circled around the gladiators waiting for a chance to strike if they took out the scaley man then the others looked weak enough to kill easily.
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They could eat them alive..." Will mumbles to himself. After being lead out of the shack and to the small practice arena, he and the other healers had been set up in the stands, far enough away from the arena floor that they wouldn't be in any real danger, and if they were then they'd have time to react. That didn't worry him too much though, he never worried about himself because there was no need to. The Beast was far stronger than he was, and it had the instinct to live no matter what. If he was attacked, and the Beast got out...
Shaking the thoughts from his head he looks back down to the arena floor. The goblins seemed to be adjusting to the light of day, slowly, and the large man, Sean he thought was his name, was rushing headlong into conflict. The one called Dara was trying to call him back, but it was of no use. Sean was gone, dead to the world in a way.
A man like that will rage on until everything set before him is dead... a voice, no, the Beast, says to Will, His people are strong, and proud, but utterly stupid in one regard. They don't think like the rest of your kind in battle...their mind is a blinding white rage...
"Shut up..." Will says, clamping a hand to the side of his head, grabbing his hair, "Just shut up and go back to sleep, there's no reason for you to be awake now..." This made the voice stop, but he was sure the Beast was still watching through his eyes, wanting to see other shedding blood. William was aware that, slowly, the Beast within him was trying to take over completely, but he wouldn't let that happen. He just had to keep fighting, a constant struggle against the darkness inside himself. One day he would lose, he was sure of that, but he wouldn't allow that to happen until he was sure there were no innocent people around to be mauled to death.
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Sean stopped as soon as he no longer saw the goblins in front of him, and turned around in time to see two of the little blighters jumping with their toy swords now aimed for his chest. Sean brought up an arm to defend against the goblin to his left and used his right arm, which bared his chain, to smack the other goblin down into the ground as hard as he was able, the dagger making a slight cut into Sean's forearm, but nothing serious. Blood shot from Sean's left arm as the dagger clumsily plunged in but his berserker rage kept his mind from registering the pain, though he'd feel it as soon as the fight was done. Sean tensed the inured arm, causing more blood to spurt from the wound, and then proceeded to kick the offending goblin in it's small reptilian face, then gave a stomp to the goblin he had smacked out of the air before its wits returned to it.
He cast his gaze back towards his comrades and saw the goblins had brought the attack to them, and somewhere in the back of his mind, where his rational now resided, he felt disappointed that they had not charged with him. Had they, perhaps this challenge would already have been won... The chain on Sean's right arm loosened itself and came undone, hanging loosely at his side as he began to move towards his comrades. Sean grabbed the chain at its base and grabbed the tip with his left hand, bringing it in so that his right arm could hold it as well. He may not have been able to use it like a whip as Jacob had, but now it was like a fluid club, something Sean had a lot of experience swinging around...
He let out another roar as he closed in on the enemy, slinging his chain club downward at the first goblin he got to.
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The draconic man was in fact the first to attempt rushing to Sean’s aid, only to be obstructed by their opponents. The filthy things circled around him and his comrades, but they did most of their sneering at him it seemed, eyeing him as their primary target. At first Dara didn’t understand why, but remembered the fine scales alluding to his heritage, they seemed to recognize that fact about him.
In a short distance the draconic man witnessed Sean dispatch lingering goblins quite well, though he did seem to suffer a minor injury that the barbarian failed to, or rather couldn’t notice. One of the buggers shouted something at Dara, probably some obscenity in their language and made an obvious charge at him. Dara had been making over handed swings with his chain the whole time, keeping the kinetic energy going, so when the goblin went for Dara he whipped at it with moderate ease, smacking its face in a brutal way, not lethal however as more than likely it would leave only a nasty bruise, in the least his target was disoriented. It was unfortunate that his peripheral vision did not catch its comrade leap into the air.
The goblin jumped to a rather impressive height for its race, as its dagger was on a direct course for the draconic man’s heart. Reacting barely in time Dara shifted so that the filthy thing’s weapon sunk into only his left shoulder.
It still hurt though, a lot.
Dara barred his teeth from the unprepared pain, as his golden eyes met the sickly yellow ones of the goblin. He did not think to remove the little ******* hanging on his shirt but instead pulled a more reckless move; Dara inhaled and a burst of fire escaped his lips, igniting the daring enemy. The others watched as their comrade screamed in burning agony as its flesh began peeling away. If they were to look closely into his eyes, they would see that the pupils weren’t quite as round as before. Dara released one more burst of flame at them, it made no contact for they promptly backed in the opposite direction, even the previously disoriented one, and such was the plan.
The draconic man took his right hand and grabbed the hilt of the dagger still lodged in his shoulder, he struggled to maintain a face imposing no pain as he pulled it out, looked at the goblins and bellowed, “Now I’m pissed!” It was too bad that was more bravado then promise behind those words, for at the moment his left arm was little less than inoperable excluding the pulsing pain, and that little fire show, while a few flames had been placed burning a few isolated weeds on the field that served as a thin barrier between them and his comrades, had dried his throat leaving a burning sensation. It was more bluff than bite meant to demoralize the enemy with the incineration of their comrade and display of his power over the flame. He could not risk puffing out more steam than that and be lucky enough not to receive internal injury.
“Any time now guys…” he said in a low, and somewhat hoarse voice. Although he had taken more burdens then he anticipated; Dara was still willing to continue, he could ignore the pain for now. In any case, as always winning the fight meant one step closer to his and his family’s freedom. He’d be damned if he would fail now.
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Kelyren leaned back as far as he could without falling over, a bored look on his face. He tried not to watch the combat going on in the ring, he simply tried to enjoy the day as best as he could with the sounds of battle reaching his ears. He already knew what was going to happen. There would be bloodshed, wounds, broken (or severed) limbs, and death. Hopefully none of the deaths would occur among the gladiators' team...
If I have to put someone back together on my first day with these guys, there shall be hell to pay, he mused.
He sighed softly and turned his attention momentarily towards the arena. Dara and Sean were already in the thick of battle, Kelyren was quite certain that he'd be patching up one or both of them after the fight. They might be big and strong, but it was usually the hotheaded ones who got received the worst injuries.
Or perhaps, if I'm lucky, the other healers will beat me to it, and I won't have to bother with healing anyone today. He smiled, tilting his head back to stare aimlessly at the sky.
"Shut up... Just shut up and go back to sleep, there's no reason for you to be awake now..."
Kelyren looked down and glanced curiously at "Fangs", unsure of who the other man was talking to. "Huh? I didn't say anything... And it's a little too early for a nap, don't you think?"
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The goblins backed off as one of their brethren fell to the ground dead his charred corpse making a sick crackling sound as it landed. The goblins backed off more to plan their attack ; the scaly man was more viscous than they thought. One of their brethren had died and another was knocked out by the scaly mans chain, another was burned to death. There were only five of the goblins left and they didn't want their numbers to decrease any more. They didn't notice the big man coming from behind them until one got bashed over the head with a chain knocking it unconscious. The final four goblins were desperate and they didn’t know how they were going to survive.
They chattered amongst themselves as they retreated away from the giant of a man, trying to figure out how to win. They decided on the two women ,the small male, and the masked man they seemed the weakest and easiest targets and at the very least they would be to kill them before they die. They rushed headlong running full throttle at the four gladiators hoping to take out the weakest links. They dodged around the two imposing gladiators and struck at the small ones one jumping at the elf woman attempting to impale her through the heart, another trying the same to the masked man. one other ran at the small human woman aiming to gouge out her eyes. finally the last goblin attacked the small human male, running at him with his knife held straight in front of him attempting to impale his adversary.
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Rowan couldn't help but smirk as he watched the fight going on in front of him, it was obvious that the gladiators, or specifically Sean and Dara were winning this match. However, it seemed that he and the others would be the targets of the remaining goblins attacks, and Rowan wasn't going to allow himself to be hurt here. It was just the beginning after all, and he had to make himself known as a strong combatent before it was too late.
Watching the movements of the goblin quietly, he knew it had a similar fighting style as he did, albeit the goblin seemed certainly more confident about his abilities. Rowan began hopping in place momentarily, as the goblin ran at him. Timing it as best he could, he lept into the air and arced himself forward, landing on his right hand while the other still held the chain. He paused momentarily, as he hadn't considered the weight of the chain itself. He recovered and crouched quickly, sending himself into a spin, low to the ground. He extended the leg to which he had attached the chain, and releasing the chain, extended the range of his whirlwind-like kick at the goblin. Hopefully, the goblin wouldn't have time to react to Rowan's quick movements, despite the hesitation he had for a moment.
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Leilatha just stood there watching Dara and Sean fighting the goblins. They had done quiet some damage to the goblins but have themselves suffered some injuries. If only they did not take this fight so serious. All these emotions that they are feeling which each attack that they are making was only hindering them. This battle is not about realising your anger on these creatures it is about working as a team. She shuddered a little at the word as it is not a favourable or common word in her vocabulary.
However, her attention was swiftly turned away from the two noticing how the four remaining goblins dodged through them and headed towards the rest of the team. She kicked the chain from the floor up catching it with her right hand. She noticed that it seemed rather lighter than she had expected it to be. So you think I am one of the weak ones Jacob. We will see about that. Just then one goblin leapt up towards her his dagger pointed straight at her heart. Leilatha was caught of guard by the power of the leap and fell back onto the gravel ground but not before she pulled the chain across the front of her chest like a shield. She gripped tightly with both her hands as the goblin forced the dagger down on her only to get it stuck in one of the chain links.
The goblin did not look happy and with all his might continued to push down on the dagger as Leilatha tried her best to keep the chain up high enough so the dagger did not touch her skin. She found a quick opening noticing the goblin giving a little way and twisted her hands around forcing the dagger out of the goblins hands before she kicked him off her. Leilatha did not watch where the goblin went flying as she rose to her knees realising dagger from her chain grip. But before she could reach out for the dagger and kill that annoying goblin, an intense rush of pain swept over her coming from her ankle. It sent her crashing to the ground in a cry of agony. A few offensive words also escaped her lips as she clutched her ankle filling the warmth of her blood on her fingers.
She could hear the stupid mongrel dancing around happily kicking her in the back. She knew that all the others would be watching her. They would see her as being weak.Pathetic! You can’t even take down a small goblin. Leilatha knew what she had to do and exhaled deeply before without hesitation jerking the dagger out of her ankle and reaching out for the goblin. He was prancing around way to close to her allowing her to stab him in the foot with the dagger. She then pulled the chain around and shuffled towards the goblin as he hit the ground crying in pain. He hit her in the face but not before she wrapped the chain around his neck. His hit knocked her head back a bit and most defiantly broke her nose but the pain shooting up from her ankle seemed to drain out all other aches.
The goblin grip the chain around his neck trying to pull it off but Leilatha held on as tight as she and at the same time trying to stop her head from spinning from the hit. It didn’t take long before the goblin stop struggling and ran out of breath. Once she noticed he was dead she let go of the chain and pushed herself weakly away from the goblin. Leilatha just laid on the gravel biting her bottom lip a little as she allowed the pain and throbbing to sweep across her body.
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The goblin running towards Rowan tried its best to pull up when it realized its enemies whirlwind kick. The creature tried to pull back, but his momentum was too much to stop. He ran straight into the attack getting kicked three time getting whipped in the face with the chain the first hit stunning it. The other two kicks smashed into the goblin sending it spinning away unconscious.
Jacob had positioned himself in the stands to get a better view of the fight. They weren't doing that bad, at least they weren't dead. He noticed that one of the gladiators weren't moving to defend themselves. "Has he given up on life" Jacob mused to himself.Well the more that die now the less likely that the others would lose later on.
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Adriac merely stared at the chain in his hands, pondering how he could use it not to fight, but to make his escape. However when Jacob shouted something about tracking spells on all of them he wanted to believe he was bluffing, but knowing his luck that promise would be followed through. He neglected to put the shackle on, preferring to have his limbs free and attempted movements he saw Jacob and Dara do, but without much finesse.
Now he suspected both Sean and Dara to be interesting fighters or power players, but he wasn’t prepared to see what happened next. Dara had taken a wound to the shoulder, making Adriac half expect him to falter allowing the goblin a finishing strike, but instead he saw the man literally spit fire and remove the dagger still biting into him. Well that’s…different, the archer thought. Soon after though, Adriac was in a similar situation.
One of the filthy things went in for the kill as it leapt for his heart. Almost not reacting in time Adraic stumbled backward a bit, catching the bugger’s attack, or more specifically its weapon hand. He stole the dagger from the goblins fingers, abandoning the chain in exchange for a more practical weapon. Perhaps it was “unfair”, but if he was fighting in the coliseum wouldn’t it make sense to take the enemy’s weapon for your own if you had none? The masked archer saw the chain not as a good weapon but a hindrance, the dagger on the other hand he could use, and he did so as he tensed his arm backward in a throwing position, aimed right between the goblins eyes and hit the mark expertly. When the new corpse slumped to the ground the masked archer went to retrieve the weapon, surveying his surroundings to make sure he wasn’t caught off guard again.
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It was interesting seeing how the gladiators fought… or didn’t fight. The rules that they chose to follow and refuse. She saw how some made the chains an asset, others tried to ignore them and one that refused to wear them. The rebellion in training. She arched a brow. Jacob did things for a reason, or, at least… that was what she had come to understand through watching various trainers. She didn’t move any closer to the training, for she would be even more of a distraction than she would be a help. She watched, detached, as one of the women fell. She kept her eyes trained on her, but she still refused to go into the fighting ring. Healers weren’t permitted to interfere in any match. They had to wait until the fight was finished and clean up as much damage as they could.
She looked down at the brown, dead patch where she had leeched the magic from, feeling the excess burning through her core-system. In thanks, she sent some back the ground, allowing the promise of life to flow again soon. Her magic was dependent on the cycle of give and take. She gave to heal the gladiators, taking from her core-the essence of herself-, but in order to replenish, she took from the ground, from nature and in thanks, would ensure that the area was planted again, so that magic could flourish inside the seeds. Her belief, the Aubade belief was that everything had magic. Some had latent magic that couldn’t be used by them, others had magic that could help with small things, and some became like Sylvani. The healers. Those of her kind that couldn’t access their magic were trained to be warriors, those that could do the small things with magic were often the farmers and tended to the animals. The nomadic Aubade had an use for everyone and everything, and magic – that resided in the spirit of the person – was used as well.
The Aubade woman scratched her arm idly and continued to watch the fight. Goblins, she didn’t hate them, and she didn’t love them. They weren’t the fiercest of enemies, nor were they the weakest. A fitting test for those that had yet to be brought into the Arena. Still, she really did hope that no one would die in training. She sneezed, the magic itching at her nose before it settled, and she was able to continue her silent, predatory watch. Her eyes sought out the other three healers, and she nodded. They seemed to be paying attention. She just hoped that they were learning about the movements of the gladiators as best as they could. Still, she didn’t focus on them for long. The fight was continuing but the goblins were falling. She looked skyward to measure the time. The fight would continue, she believed, for as long as it took. It was a pity that she hadn’t brought one of her tomes. She considered walking over to Jacob but she felt that she would be a nuisance so she stayed behind him, clearly able to be seen should he turn around, but they had more important things to do than make conversation with one another. They both had to watch the fight.
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Bliss stared down at the cold metal at her wrist, glad that they had seemed to be one of the lighter ones. The metal seemed almost foreign on her arms and they caused her to shiver slightly, the cold from the metal travelling up her arms. She slowly jerked both of her arms up a small amount, trying to get used to the weight. Her mind seemed to be racing with thoughts on how to use them but none came up. She ignored the others as they went to attack the goblins and instead just stared down on her weapons, ignoring the resounding noises around her. She did distinctly hear the chattering of the goblins and kept her ears peeled for them just in case one decided to come too close to her, she really didn't want any accidents, it was her first day after all. Brief thoughts about first impression and wanting to impress everyone fled through her mind before she just shrugged them away, too oblivious to really care about them anyway. She turned her attention back to the chains. She swayed them side to side, noticing how the movement seemed to be jerky, they weren't really items for flowing.
She sighed in annoyance, the chains would mess her up. They would prevent her from being the quick fighter she had prided herself to be and she could say goodbye to counting on her small body to try and get away, now someone would just be able to grab the chains. She tried winding them around her wrists and noted how they still didn't work well, she was horrendous on hand to hand fighting. More than often her opponent would out-power her easily so she struck bodily combat out of it. She unwound the chain from her wrists, trying to swing them once more, noticing that they still didn't have enough control. She smiled suddenly, a full out beam, when her idea struck her. She wound the chain, much like she had before, around her arms and wrists, making the length of the chain relatively shorter. She swung it around, noticing that it was now much more controlled. Maybe she didn't have a huge length of it but now she would be able to use it properly and not mess up, well hopefully at least. She tugged at them, making sure that they were set properly and shrugged, it would prove to be good enough for her; well, until she figured out how to fix them.
She looked up, wincing as the sunlight seemed to attack her eyes and she frowned, the smile leaving her face. It seemed quiet, just a bit too quiet for a battle to be happening. She took a few steps forward, faltering a bit as she almost tripped over the length of chain and resumed her composure once more. It was all the chance she had before a goblin came lunging for her face. Her eyes widened and adrenaline suddenly seemed to burst inside of her, surging through her veins. She whipped her head to the side, knowing that she was way too late to actually get out of the way of its daggers and not wanting to give it a chance to get to her eyes. Her sudden movement seemed to disorient the poor creature and instead of plunging, it only sliced at her cheek. She felt its small hands grasp onto her head and her heads immediately flew to it, only for it to jab its small dagger on her hands. Her eyes stayed clenched shut, not wanting to give it the chance it had had before. She managed to pull it off of her face, its fingers slowly unwrapping around her ears. She threw it to the ground and suddenly hopped back a few feet, her eyes meeting the beady ones of the goblin.
She smirked, suddenly feeling the blood leak down her cheek. She wiped at it with the back of her hand only to feel some more leak out, leaving her cheek a crimson, wet mess. "You're kind of annoying," She commented to it, wondering if it actually understood her. Although it left no recognition on its relatively blank face and she shrugged, pacing slightly to the left. Her eyes stayed glued on the small creature and she froze as it didn't move, the two of them just watching each other for a moment. Although it didn’t last long and Bliss was glad that she had paused because she knew if she hadn't, show wouldn't have seen the subtly shift of its weight before it lunged. Her smiled grew as she thrust out her hands to pause the creature and it landed on the chain. She gave it no hesitation as she wrapped the chains around its now struggling body, making sure that she wound it around his neck. She pulled at her wrists, the goblins eyes starting to bug from the amount of air pushing through its system. She heard as it screamed awful, high pitched noises and she tried her best to ignore them, still squeezing the life out of the poor thing. She winced, feeling guilty as she often did as it died in her hands. The struggles as well as the noise soon stopped and when she was positive it was dead, she unwound it and dropped it to the ground.
She looked down, frowning as she noticed the goblin had probably been stabbing her while she chocked it to death. Small puncture wounds surrounded her hands and a bit on her arms from where it had probably been able to reach, wondering why she hadn't felt it at the time. She shrugged it off to the adrenaline boost, something that made sense to her. None of her wounds had really started to hurt yet, only a small throbbing and wetness from the blood to really prove to her that they were there. She looked down at the small body that she had just murdered and felt guilt rack through her system, suddenly feeling large amounts of guilt crush her. She just looked up at the sun, suddenly having an off thought, hoping that it would warm up the cold chain on her wrist and just continued looking down, not in much of a mood for talking or smiling at the moment, although she knew the feeling would soon pass. It was simply the initial amount of guilt that she felt at the moment, it would leave soon.
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Upon stomping the Goblin he had just smacked with his chain-club, Sean looked up to see Dara light one of them on fire with his mouth... and the shock snapped Sean out of his berserker rage and into a stunned stupor. It was then that he noticed the dagger still stuck in his left arm, and the pain slammed into his head like a...well, like Sean. He winced momentarily as dug the dagger out of his arm, then examined the blade a little. It was small but the way the blade was shaped, it was meant more for stabbing then slicing. He scratched his head, wondering why anyone would want to get that close to someone when they could kill them just as well with a real sword, then shrugged, but kept hold of the dagger anyway, figuring maybe one of the others would want it. It would make a decent tool to clean out his ears if nothing else.
Sean looked up from his thoughts to see that the fight was over, and ran over to join the others, yelling and beating his chest with his fists, then began laughing as though someone had told a funny story.
"Sean crush tiny green people! Now we get meat!" He yelled before picking up one of the Goblin's corpses and sniffed it, the smell causing him to drop the body in disgust. Something that smelled that bad needed to be cooked first. Sean turned toward Dara and smiled, picking up the Goblin again.
"You cook?" he asked, smiling as he held the Goblin corpse in Dara's face.
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He tightly clutched his shoulder to hold off the bleeding as much as he could now that he could use his operable hand to do so, every time he tried to use his left arm he could only grimace. The fight was over, and from the looks of things they had won…barely and against only goblins. Sean caught up with them and beamed over their victory even making a joke of the roasting Dara performed on one of the goblins. But the man was not in a jesting mood, and in fact wore a grim face at the barbarian. Dara surveyed the team, most of were them wounded, none of them lethal thankfully, but that did not appease the grimness that Dara held. Facing Sean, he said to him in a low and even tone in his own language so there would be no misunderstanding, “Next time do not attack without us. Had the rest of the troop not come for us they most certainly would have turned you to minced meat, even as strong as you are. We could have attacked them together but that little stunt threw any plan or formation we could have made out the window. We got lucky today, make no mistake friend.” His tone was not loud or yelling, only enough for Sean to hear clearly and head the seriousness, Dara knew an angry outburst at the barbarian would only prompt him retaliate. As if to emphasize his point for him the wounded shoulder decided to flare up in pain for a short moment causing the draconic man to grimace again.
He turned to the others, most not in better shape than he and addressed them, “I think we learned something obvious here, a mistake I feel I am just as guilty in making. I don’t blame any of you, but we need a lot of work to say the least. And perhaps if we had been given a little more time," on the emphasized word he shot a glare at Jacob, “This could have turned out better, but if we take anything form here it’s this: Do not go off on your own, call for help when you need it, and respond to each other. Believe me I’ve never been the biggest team player either, but I’m pretty sure we understand the necessity of it now.” He let out disheartened sigh, then called out to the team’s attendants, “Healers! We got wounded! The number is-” he paused to do a quick count, “Most of us…”
Leilatha suddenly felt warmth coming from her left side, her eyes glanced over but the rest of her body remained motionless. She noticed Dara breathing fire. Knew he would be one to look out for. Guess having scales means you can breath fire as well. Leilatha shut her eyes and just listened to the shovelling of the feet and the screeching of the goblins. There was no real point in her getting up and helping the others because they all seemed to be able to take care of themselves and anyway she was hurt and had made a promise to herself early that she wasn’t going to go out of her way to save them. This whole team thing was a waste of time. None of them should signs of team work therefore she wasn’t going to corporate either. It was stupid of her to think that just maybe this might work but there is no such thing as comradeship when you’re a gladiator. It is all about saying your own ass.
She heard Sean say something about crushing tiny green people which oddly enough amused her but instead of laughing she coughed up a bit of blood. Nice. She wiped her lip and then sat up staring at the rest of the group as they seemed to gather together. Dara then began rambling on about how what Sean did was wrong and so forth which she didn’t really listen to. Who made you leader? She thought gently grabbing her injured ankle and bringing it up towards herself to get a break. Dammit, looks like one of these healers is going to have to fix that. Leilatha ripped a strand of fabric from her top and tied it around the hole the goblin had made with his dagger. This should stop the bleeding for a bit. She then lightly felt around her nose with her fingers feeling that it seemed a bit crooked. Grabbing it with her whole hand now she cracked it back into place. She shook her head immediately trying to ignore the pain.
Now to get on my feet. She reached up and grabbed the nearest person’s elbow to pull herself up of the ground. As soon as she was straight enough she let go of them, not wanting to seem like she actually need assistance and making it look like it was an accidental grab. Leilatha then turned her attention to Jacob waiting on how he was going to response to Dara and what he had in store of them next.
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Jacob stood up and stretched his large frame as the fight finished up. None of the newbies had died so that was a plus. He walked down to the arena floor and examined the damage that had been done. They weren't half bad... though no where near where he wanted them to be. Jacob smirked at Dara's comment "listen you over grown geko, you don't have anymore time. You and the others are going into the arena tomorrow so I had to check and see which team I should be betting on. Just in case all of you will die and I am left without any source of income." Jacob finished with Dara turned his attention on everyone else. "Healers get down here now! I want everyone in top shape and little miss elf over there doesn't look like she is feeling to well, hell none of them really do." While scanning the healers in the stands Jacob noticed a familiar face. "Hey Ice queen what the hell took you so long to get here? Get your lazy ass down here and help these newbies thats what your paid to do!" Jacob huffed and watched as the healers got to work.
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Sean frowned slightly when Dara didn't cook the goblin with his fire breath as he had been serious about wanting to eat it, though was unprepared for Dara's response. The dragon-born talked to him as though he were a child, as though he were stronger than Sean, and said what he had done had put the team in danger. Sean grit his teeth in anger, his body tensing up as he looked Dara in the eyes, then threw his left hand towards the others, slinging the goblin corpse he had been holding in the process as he yelled in his native language.
You speak to me like I were a child?! As though I am not a warrior?! The enemy was weak and everyone but me hesitated in crushing them. Had you lot of children stopped thinking about fighting long enough to actually fight, this would have been no battle, it would have been a slaughter, and none but the small green ones would have known pain! You say to me not to attack without you, and that luck won this battle, but all I saw was fear crippling you, and weakness resulting in your own injuries! He yelled, nearly spitting as he did so. He panted for a moment as the rage ran its course, and then relaxed himself, still looking Dara in the eye before turning his back to him. This was a huge insult in Sean's tribe, as it is shameful for a warrior to have scars on their backs, as it meant they had turned away from combat if even for a moment. To show your back to someone in this manner meant you were saying they were not a warrior... this had started wars between tribes...
"Treat Sean like child again, and Sean rip out throat" He said before walking away, blood still slowly oozing down his left arm as he joined the others, knowing that trying to walk away to be alone with his thoughts would probably result in another fight... though without weapons he knew he could not survive such a battle. He studied the others and noted their injuries, noticing that none had been stricken from behind. This fact made Sean happy as it meant that they all had courage... they just lacked strength. He reached beneath the belt that served as his only armor and pulled out the dagger that had been lodged in his arm. He looked around and saw that Bliss was the closest to him, and so approached her and showed her the weapon, but was stopped from asking as Jacob started to speak, but gave no commands and so ignored him.
"Happy lady... What sword this?" He asked, showing her the bloody dagger after Jacob had finished speaking.
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Rowan sighed as he watched the goblin go hurdling off to the side after his kick. He stood upright and bit his lower lip in thought. He knew what he had done… He had let up his speed just as his final kick hit the goblin, and instead of killing the creature, he only knocked it unconscious. It was a bad habit that Rowan had had since he had first entered the arena… He didn’t want to kill… He didn’t want to end up like his father… He frowned, closing his eyes tightly.
. . .
“Hey, isn’t that the son of Stark Verrow?”
“Eh? The man who was charged with the murder of over twenty people?”
Rowan, young as he was back then, bit back his anger at the comments his neighbors made. Father… He thought as he walked, staring at the shackles around his legs. He had worked in the salt mines for some time, and had never heard a single good thing about his father. Why? Why did you kill those people…? He knew that his thoughts were nothing more than that, thoughts… They would never reach his father’s ears as it was already too late. His father had been sentenced to death when Rowan was but a child.
“Yea, that’s the one! They say he has the same look on his face his father always did…”
. . .
The sound of Sean and Dara’s talk snapped Rowan back to the present, and he wiped the sweat from his forehead with a shaking hand. He looked around at the others. Rowan had thought that he would be the one to get injured, but in the end he wasn’t. Rowan glanced silently at Leilatha. I wonder if she’s alright? Though, judging from her personality, she’ll probably ignore me if I ask… Despite this, Rowan took a step towards his comrade, but was stopped upon the sound of Sean’s outburst. He couldn’t understand a word the man said, but knew that it was probably not a very happy statement.
At this, Rowan just unhooked the chain from his leg and looked up at Jacob. It would seem that the warriors would be getting a break for now... only to be tossed into the actual arena tomorrow. He walked over to one wall, and allowed himself to slide down it into a sitting position. He had hesitated… had feared what he could become if he killed another… and that in itself could cost him his life. “I’m sorry…” He muttered, staring at the ground in shame
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The fight was over; she was glad to see that. At least the goblins were dead, and she didn’t have to worry about one of them launching up and trying to kill her. Nearly being killed in the ring, not as much fun as the gladiators make it out to be, she learned that the hard way quite a few times. Her left brow arched higher as Jacob called over to her. The expression was clear as she looked over to the other healers. “Let me see what they can do,” she said, but none of the healers were forthcoming. She shook her head and walked into the ring. The sun beat down on her head, making her feel too warm. She understood, a bit, the way that the gladiators were going to fight and she didn’t have the highest hopes for some of them and none of them stuck out in her mind to be one that could become a veteran gladiator. Just another team sent to the fodder unless they were able to work in a cohesive unit and utilize their strengths while covering for each other’s weaknesses.
“I need the most wounded to my left and the least wounded to my right,” she called, pitching her voice as loud as she could get it, which wasn’t very loud. She reached into her pouch, feeling the expensive vials hit against one another, as her hand found the tie for her hair. She quickly tied her hair away from her face and moved forward. “You haven’t been killed. Congratulations for facing your first enemy and surviving,” she said to them. “When the rest of the Healers come down to aid in the effort, I need you to be completely honest. Most of you gladiators are strong in the ring and you think that strength and ability to withstand pain is an asset when you leave the ring. You couldn’t be more wrong. You have a small cut on your shoulder and you ignore it? One day I may have to cut your arm off. I don’t expend my magic for those that have hidden injuries because they were ‘too strong’ to want to tell me where they are injured. I would rather heal small wounds before they become gaping infections. Do you have a sore throat from breathing fire?” she smirked at the man who had done so. She had noted it, but in so doing she was already working out what breathing fire meant and what his weakness could be and how the healers could think one step ahead of the ring and make poultices and potions to heal any injury that came their way.
Sylvani fell silent for a moment. “What a rag-tag group,” she said with a shake of her head. This would be the most that any of the gladiators would hear her talk, unless they became a team that she felt had a chance of surviving and then she would allow the chance to become close to them. Just because she was learning about their habits in the ring and their mode of attack didn’t mean that she was going to sit down and drink a beer with them at the end of a successful fight.
Her hard as ice eyes focused on Jacob. “And you, don’t yell at me,” she ordered, as she pulled out bandages and healing salve. She went to the tall barbarian first, as she considered him to be. She saw that he had a stab wound in his left arm and while he didn’t seem to be showing any pain from the wound, such a wound could get infected if not treated in a timely fashion. The area where the gladiators were put in weren’t the cleanest of places. Her eyes flickered back over to Jacob, “just because I was assigned to your team and was late in greeting them, as if I were the expectant surrogate mother and these are my children,” she smeared some of the pale green salve on the tips of her fingers. She looked at Sean, “I have to put this on,” she said. She didn’t speak any slower, any louder, didn’t enunciate. All of the gladiators would be treated the same and she heard that he spoke in common tongue, broken common tongue, but he could understand things. “This will help fix the wound together so I don’t have to sew it. You’ll be able to move and flex your arm while this heals. When the wound is completely healed, the salve will be absorbed by your skin. It’s made from herbs from my garden. No one has had a reaction before but if you feel any increased discomfort, I want you to come to my cottage and see me, I don’t care what time of day or night it is,” she said. She was brisk, and standoffish, but she wasn’t shirking her duties.
“My last team-member died this morning,” she said, continuing her conversation with Jacob as if nothing had happened and she hadn’t talked to Sean. “He died because he slipped up in the ring. He got over confident, or he got stupid. He was the last one in the team and our wonderful King decided that he didn’t deserve to be reassigned to another team. It’s much more of a blood sport to pit one desperate man with children waiting for him at home against six well trained men with nothing to lose. He was run through with a dual-edged sword. It cut through the leather that he wore as if it weren’t there, broke ribs and pierced a lung. He was suffocating,” she talked as if she was talking about a rainy day that had inconvenienced her. “None of the healing vials I would have worked, the magic that I have would have healed him, should he chosen that, but he had always refused my magic. In the end, I covered my hands over his nose and mouth, finishing the job.”
She finished with Sean and wrapped a bandaged around his arm. She pulled out a much smaller salve and handed it to him. “This goes for the rest of your wounds, please pass it around to your teammates when you are done,” she stepped away from Sean and regarded the rest of the gladiators. “When the rest of the healers come, make sure you tell them what needs to be fixed beyond using the salve. The salve is good for minor injuries. It will not heal bruises, so do not try to use it for that.” She paused for a moment before she regarded both gladiators and healers. “I am here to facilitate in your bodies natural healing abilities. I can speed it up, allow you to be in fighting shape within days, hours, or minutes if that is what is needed. I cannot heal the ravages that come for lack of sleep or food. Those fall to you to deal with,” she nodded to the healers, “if the healers are good, they will cook for you. You can trust their food. I would warn you against anything given to you on the street by a perceived fan, a ***** that you had just paid coin for, or another healer outside of your team. This is a sport that people take bets on and when people have money on the line… anything goes,” she cleared her throat. She hated giving speeches; she’d rather be working in her garden or reading her books, doing something that could potentially make a difference.
Sylvani remembered belatedly that she hadn’t introduced herself, “Forgive me, I was so caught up in the normal horror story that I give my new team that I forgot to tell you who I am. I am Sylvani Nikolaidis-Dwrgg. No one can ask about my mother or father. If you want to know something about that, you can talk to Jacob. He knows more about me than my own blessed-Creator does,” she said, turning back to Jacob. In the gladiator ring, the name of Nikolaidis was infamous. The surname of Dwrgg denoted a long line of healers from a small nomadic tribe that hadn’t returned to their country since Sylvani “agreed” to become a healer. Sylvani’s secrets weren’t secrets. Everyone knew of her parents, and the rumors grew to unbelievable heights when it came to that tragic “love-story”. Girls still wanted an affair with a gladiator who would do what her father did on the last day he was alive. Everyone talked about the Ice-Queen, her demeanor, her aloofness, the rage that burned behind her eyes.
“Everything else you can ask me is fair game. I like the color purple, I have two cats, I am the Ice-*****. Jacob nicely called me a Queen. He’s far too kind. I don’t like healing the same types of wounds repeatedly. I hope that you will all train diligently and become a force to be reckoned with.” Her eyes, for a moment, said it all. I hope that you will all survive, her eyes said. I hope that you will all be able to leave the ring on your own two feet, not carried out on a stretcher.
“Jacob will finish with the introductions as I watch how the healers work,” she said as she moved back to Jacob’s side, the icy façade growing back up so that she was once again silent and distanced away from both the healers and gladiators.
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Sean’s blustering did more to irritate Dara than intimidate, he had hoped the man would understand but the barbarian quite obviously took it the wrong way. When Sean finished with a threat he went off, practically pouting like that child he said he wasn’t. Before he could respond a lithe but expressionless woman appeared, apparently an extra assigned healer for them. While attending to Sean she told the story of the last gladiator she had worked with, having died just today, when she had finished Dara remarked in Sean’s language, “And that Sean, is exactly what I’m trying to prevent. This isn’t your tribe or home, or mine for that matter. Things are different, we are not cowards but staying alive is going to take more than a stout heart, that’s what I meant.You are strong brave, but ever consider why every one of us is under the boot of the king? Because he has soldiers who do more than fight, they calculate, they divide, and conquer. And don't talk to me about cowerdice, my father was once very close to freeing us all, the only reason he got caught is because he rushed it...” Dara trailed off for a moment, retreating to a memory. Hopefully this time he would understand, though if the barbarian tried to make good on his threat he would have little choice but to risk his throat again.
The new healer introduced herself as Sylvani, a.k.a. The Ice-*****, and with her impersonal and monotone demeanor it seemed she was aptly named, the way she casually regarded the death of her former charge. Jaded no doubt, just like the rest of us, Dara thought. The name Dwrgg sounded familiar to him, but at the moment its meaning escaped him.
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William glanced back at Kelyren and shook his head. He hadn't realized that he was talking aloud, or that anyone was close enough to hear him. "Sorry...I wasn't speaking to you," he says in an apologetic tone, giving a small, forced smile, "I had...just dozed off for a moment, a bad dream that's all." Even as he lied, hoping his fellow healer would believe him, or at least let it go at this, he could feel more than hear the Beast laughing at him from the back of his mind.
Thankfully, before anything else was said, the action began down in the arena, and William took this opportunity to turn his thoughts away from the beast and to watch and see what he could learn of the gladiators he would be healing from here on. Sean, the barbarian from a foreign land, was obviously not one for teamwork, not in the same was a others would be anyway. Dara...the scales had confused him a little, but once he saw that he could breath fire it was made clear that he was descended from dragons, Dragonborn, he thought that was called. The girl called Leilatha seems to be indifferent towards everything and everyone, but she was tough. The rest of them seemed brave, at the very least.
As the match came to an end he listened to the gladiators exchange words, mostly done between Sean and Dara, which didn't surprise him really. Suddenly there was a new face making her way into the arena. William had stood up, ready to make his way down to help now that it was the proper time, but seeing her, Sylvani turned out to be her name, caused him to sit back down for a moment.
She must have come around when I was...busy... William thinks to himself, shaking his head.
When the new woman speaks of the healers he stands up again, and once her speech is done he makes his way down to the arena floor. For most people it would take a moment or two to walk back down the steps to the arena floor, but William ignores them completely. From his seat he stands and takes two large leaps, one gets him halfway there, the other lands at beside the wall, and from there he simply walks over, heading for Dara to see if there was anything he could do.
Another 'perk' of being a lycan, he was a little stronger and faster than one would think, and his legs were strong enough to allow for such long jumps, even if he wasn't a particularly good runner. This far along in life he didn't think to hide any suck abilities he had. If anyone asked, he would speak with them about it, but otherwise he'd say nothing.
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"Dozed off, huh?" Kelyren grinned, though inwardly he was skeptical. How on earth could anyone doze off with the carnage going on in the arena down below? "This doesn't look like the best time or place to take a nap, but I guess it's not our decision where our bodies decide to keel over and catch some shut-eye."
wq
He hummed quietly to himself and focused his attention on a passing cloud, watching it drift through the sky. He was dimly aware that something in the arena was suffering a bloody death, but he chose not to look.
If it's one of the gladiators, I'll find out later, he reasoned. They seem to be a pretty solid group. I'd guess that Dara and the bear killer took care of everything by themselves. A smile spread on his face and his spirits lifted. Great. Looks like I won't have too much work to do...
"Healers get down here now! I want everyone in top shape and little miss elf over there doesn't look like she is feeling to well, hell none of them really do."
His spirits dropped like a rock. Damn it.
"Keep your pants on, old man, I'm on my way," Kelyren muttered darkly. He got off the bench, making his way over to the stairs that led down into the fighting pit. As he walked, he kept an eye on the others and what they were up to. There was a blonde woman introducing herself to the gladiators, and he figured that she was their leader of sorts from her attitude.
He waited until the so-called "Ice *****" had finished speaking before moving closer to the wounded gladiators.
"Healer reporting for duty, Ice *****, ma'am," Kelyren said in a manner that was far too cheerful for the situation, and gave Sylvani a mock salute. He looked around, trying to figure out who needed healing the most. "Now, if one of you weary warriors would kindly tell me who's in dire need of aid, that would be lovely..."
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Jacob rolled his eyes as he watched the drama unfold between the barbarian and the fire breather, he really needed to learn their names. The small guy that had done the interesting kick took off his chain and started moping in the corner mumbling something about being sorry. I wonder what the hells wrong with him... He survived without a scratch Jacob mused to himself until Sylvani took his attention. “And you, don’t yell at me,” she yelled ordered Jacob. He just smiled at her as she worked on the barbarian. She seemed feisty today, of course then again he couldn't remember a time when she wouldn't tell him off on the drop of a hat. Jacob listened as she told him the story of why she was here now. He knew that she hated the king with a passion for what he did to everyone, and this show that he put on more than likely add a little something to that hatred. By the sounds of it that fight was complete and utter bull ****, every gladiatorial team should constantly have six men, but sometimes the king decided that some rules should be broken for the sake of entertainment. It made Jacob angry but he would never show it. He despised the honor-less man that called himself their king but there was nothing that he could do about it without bringing about his own death so instead he just pushed the emotion down and resolved to drink it away later on that night.
Jacob raised an eyebrow as she told him how she helped the dieing gladiator along on his way. She was still in the angel of death business it seemed... well whatever helped her sleep at night. Sometimes it had to be done, but that was a though for another time. As Sylvani finished her lecture and walked to his side Jacob took a deep breath and let it out, time to get back to work. The other two healers came down from the stands ready to get to work. "Ok newbies you heard them line up from severity of wounds if youve already been fixed up then go and sit somewhere I don't give a damn where just don't get yourselves into trouble." Jacob turned his attention to the healers "Healers, as for the introductions, Sylvani here will be your group leader. She will be helping instruct you on how to keep these worthless sacks of crap alive!" Jacob gave a wide sweeping gesture towards the gladiators "She is just about the best damn healer around so you can learn something from her whether you want to or not. Oh and I swear to whatever higher powers are listening at the moment that if ANY of you waste my precious time and take the ice queen up on her offer to ask me about her past I will not be happy! Now get to work."
There was the clacking of hooves again as Jacob finished his little rant. What the hell he hadn't ordered any more goblins. The transport cart pulled up in the arena and the driver jumped down. Jacob went to meet the man to see what he was bringing. the driver smiled at him "Got another gladiator for you sir." he said while leaning on the wagon. Jacob sat there for a second confused before he burst out "What the bloody hell are you bringing me another damn gladiator for!?" The driver took a step back patting the air in front of him in a placating motion "Calm down sir, I was supposed to tell you that the king announced that from now on the arena teams will have seven fighters instead of six. He believes that seven is a more entertaining number." Jacobs face turned red as he tried to control his anger "Why the hell was I not informed of this earlier! the more people there are the more the game changes!" The driver backed up a few more steps as Jacob walked forward menacing him "Please don't hurt me sir, Look the king just announced it today, if you have a problem with it then take it up with him." Jacob took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "Get the hell out of here" He said pointing towards the road. "Yes sir, just take the gladiator and I will leave" The driver said a little shakily. Jacob glared at the man "No you get going now, leave the damn horse and cart its mine now... unless you have something to say about it." The driver stood there gaping for a second before Jacob yelled "GO!" and the man took off like an arrow, out of the practice field and down the road. The trainer turned towards the stands remembering the other driver "You can leave now too, take your cart and go." he called out to the man who promptly followed orders. Jacob ignored the gladiators and healers watching him as he went around the trailer and opened it up. Curious who would be inside.
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Leilatha stood there trying her best not to put pressure on her injured foot because she knew that would just result in more blood pissing out of it. Her head started to spin a little as she found it rather difficult to focus on what was going on before her. People seemed to be yelling and telling each other off but it only took a snap second for her to zone out.
--------
“Hahaha..” the three young elves laughed happily as they danced around in the fields. “LEILATHA….LEILATHA….please come here,” an elder man shouted out to the three elves waving at one to come here. “IN A MINUTE!”
“NO NOW PLEASE LEE, I want you to meet someone.” The red haired girl pranced towards the elderly man blissfully. “Sorry father but I just wanted to play some more with my brother and sister,” she grinned before wrapping her arms around him and giving him a hug. Her father however, didn’t seem to be in such a joyful mood as he pulled her arms away from his body and turned her towards some man she had never met before.
“This is Mr Teliko,” Leilatha gazed up at the dark clothed figure noticing how his fiery red hair was all sleeked back. What a weirdo? She giggled to herself before seeing him smirk at her. The man then stretch his hand out to her, “you must be Leilatha, what a pretty name for such a pretty girl. Why don’t you do a little spin for me?” She stepped back a little hiding behind her father’s leg just looking at the man. Why is he looking at me like that? “Leilatha stop being so shy….so sorry about this Mr Teliko,” her father pulled her forward again and grabbed her hand to spin her around. Leilatha watched her dress come up a bit as she span and giggled. “Again…again….again!”
“She is perfect,” Teliko pulled out and handed it to Leilatha’s father. “That should be all of it,” he looked down at her and smirked again, “want to go for a horsey ride?” Mr Teliko grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards his horse carriage. Leilatha followed with confusion for a bit before turning around and looking at the father who appeared to be crying now. “Father…” she called out and stretched her free hand out towards him but he just turned his back on her. “Daddy…daddy?” She started to panic. What had her father done? she kicked and screamed trying to get away from this stranger but he was too strong.
She continued to struggle and yell at her father until Mr Teliko lifted her into the back of his carriage. “I want my daddy.”
“We are your new daddies now!” Leilatha spun around hearing a husky voice speak from inside the carriage. “Come sit down…we are going for a ride.” She wanted to turn and jump out but Mr Teliko blocked her way out before forcing her into the seat next to his friend. He then jumped out of the carriage and made his way to the driver’s seat.
“It is going to be alright, don’t fret my little child, don’t fret,” Mr Teliko company gently caressed her leg. Her mother used to do the same when she was upset but something about the way this stranger did it felt wrong to her.
------
Leilatha shook her head snapping out of her hallucination. The loss of blood must’ve done this. She tried to forget what happened in her past knowing that it would only distracted her when she was fighting. And it wasn’t like she could change the past. What happened, happened and she was just going to have to live with it. She took a deep breath in and the noticed how the gladiators had spilt into two groups. Unsure why they had done so, she just hobbled to one side and waited to see what was going to happen next.
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As the wagon doors opened Anvain turned her head away from the blinding light now flooding in. How long had she been in the wagon? Hours, days? From the smell around her, Anvain estimated it had been two days since that horrid man had chained and tossed her in the wagon. At least she had been allowed to keep her sword, which she kept hidden under her tunic. It was one of the few things she had to remind her of the forest. The driver told her the reason she was allowed to keep the weapon, she would be taken to a…..gladiator training establishment, where she would supposedly need it. Upon seeing her confusion, the wagon driver informed her it was a place where all manners of creatures fought for glory and honor and they often receive many gifts from the King. Anvain failed to note the sarcasm and smirk on the driver’s face as he spoke.
As her eyes slowly adjusted to the glare Anvain became aware of a human man in the doorway staring at her. Being too exhausted and hungry to care who he is, she just asked in a quiet voice “Is it time to get out now?” Her eyes staring at the dirk caked wagon floorboards.
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Jacob stood at the entrance of the wagon for a moment staring at the pathetic looking elf woman. "What do they expect me to do with this!" Jacob exclaimed to himself. They decided to change the whole premise of the battles and expected him to work with this... gods he despised the king. "Come on its time to go." Jacob said as he entered the wagon and grabbed the elfs wrist. She seemed quite weak which wasn't good, they had to fight tomorrow and if everyone wasn't it top shape things could get dicey. He pulled the elf along behind his and headed towards the healers and gladiators. When he arrived he pushed the weak elf towards Sylvani. "Well guess what, the king decided to add another man to each gladiatorial team because he likes the number seven better." Jacob added as much venom and indignation into the last part of the sentence as he could. "After everyone is fixed up I want you to get her into the best shape you can by tomorrow." His eyes scanned the rest of the group around him. "And why are gladiators still bleeding on my damn practice field!" he shouted at the healers "Hurry it up!"
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“Kelyren,” she said smoothly when she heard her nickname tied with Ma’am. “I am not, nor have I ever been a “Ma’am”, nor am I am Mum if that crosses your mind. Nor am I a Miss. I am either Sylvani, Ice Queen, or Ice-*****. If you think of another name that could fit me, forget it. I worked hard for my names and no new healer is going to change that. Now, go tend to the scrapes and bruises. Find out what hurts on them that can’t be seen by the naked eye. Find out of their ears are ringing. Do something.” She wished that he had something that could help her. “When you’re done, tell the other Healers that I expect all of you at my cottage as soon as Jacob releases you. They have a fight tomorrow and there are rules for the gladiators that you must learn.”
Her attention was taken again to those in need of healing.
There was blood. Too much of it to just be from the barbarian. She had waited for the healers to come down and do some healing but with the bleeding female-elf, Sylvani had no choice. She stepped forward towards her. She heard the wheels of a cart being brought up, but her sharp gaze was focused on the other elf. “The salve won’t work to cure that,” she explained. She opened her bag, as she wanted to see what she had. She swore under her breath. She wished she had some herbs from further north, or the poultice from the south. The Suvaen flower that was grown by the healing woman in her tribe. Something. Anything… she had something. She looked up at the female-elf. “I will get your name after,” she promised, though restrained herself from allowing herself to feel any kinship with another elvish woman. While they were not of the same tribe, or race within the species of elf, it had been too long for Sylvani to ignore that there were others like her mother’s people around. “I will heal you,” she said then. She didn’t close her eyes, or seem to be doing anything different. The magic that she had was the magic that she always had. Manipulating it and making it work for her was as natural as breathing. What was unnatural was trying to get her magic to coincide with the spiritual resonance of another person.
She took a moment, a precious moment to focus her attention. Her eyes locked on the body of the female-elf that had fought well, but had still gotten injured. She felt the natural fluctuations of her body and the natural chord it struck in time with the nature around it. She then concentrated on focusing in the elf-woman’s essence. Sylvani’s magic worked best when she could attune herself with the resonance of another. It took a moment when she first met something before she could twist her magic and make it so it would be accepted by the other. “This shouldn’t hurt,” she commented, as she pushed a bit more magic into the woman’s body that the healer would have liked to. It did nothing negative to her patient, yet, she healed faster. The cells formed an intricate webbing, the blood stopped escaping, the skin slowly patched together and to be on the safe side, Sylvani bandaged the wound. She stood up, her face drawn with the effort of taking what was her soul and twisting it to make it benefit another. “The salve,” she ordered, turning to find who had it then. “Put the salve on when you get it, on any of the scrapes. When you bathe tonight, don’t worry about it washing off. Just apply a bit more. Since you’ll be fighting tomorrow, you need to be in the best shape,” she said.
Sylvani turned then in time to see Jacob, redfaced and angry, with another elfin woman. She stepped forward, caught the arm in a gentle hold and looked down at the other. “It seems like I have a long night in front of me,” she said, not quite speaking to the female but more to herself. She looked for Jacob. “I’m taking her to my apartment in healer's barracks. If I’m going to do anything with her, I need full access. The last thing I want is for her to be killed because she’s been starved. She looks more like bait than she does prey.”
She looked back to the woman and shook her head. “Little offense meant,” she said, the last thing she needed was a defensive elf trying to rip her throat out because she thought that her prowess in battle was being called into question. “You need food,” her noise wrinkled, “a bath and food before I even start to heal you, do you agree?” she asked. “I’ll do nothing without your permission,” she said. That was the way she went. She healed with permission; she killed with permission. Her own set of moral codes.
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Anvain was shocked at the man’s treatment of her, simply grabbing her arm and dragging her out of the wagon. If he didn’t have such a vice like grip she would have hit the dirt her legs seemed to have lost strength after so many days of being tied up, but his grip seemed unbreakable. A brief thought of escape crossed her mind even though she knew it would be impossible with the chains and even without them, she was too weak to run fast enough and she had no idea how far away her forest home was. At least she still thought of escaping. “When hope is lost, life soon follows.” She had been repeating this saying every night; she was determined to stay strong and never give in to the wave of despair that follows a captured elf.
Anvain barely has a look around before the man hauled her in front of a very elegant and beautiful woman. Anvain observed that she was very tall for a human, even in her camp few of the male elves grew to be that tall. Suddenly a wave of sickness overtook her; she swayed and didn’t hear what the tall lady and the man were saying to one another. When the feeling passed Anvain realized the woman was now holding her arm, gently. It gave her a small sense of peace and safety. Then the woman spoke to her “Little offense meant,” she said.
Anvain’s face turned white, unsure what the lady meant. Had she missed something? Would the woman be angry she hadn’t been listening before? Luckily the woman continued talking seeming to be unaware Anvain had not heard anything before. The woman spoke of food and a bath. “Oh joy!” she thought happily, she also hoped the chains would be removed. It had been frustratingly hard to sit with her hands so close together while traveling, not to mention eating.
Speaking quickly she replied, “That would be wonderful! I am very hungry.” A small smile crept across Anvain’s face, perhaps her situation would be getting better. Being so excited with the chance of a bath and food she failed to notice the people lined up behind the elegant woman.
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“Take this potion again before the sun descends, and one final time after the cock crows, and I am confident that you will feel well enough to stomach some porridge for breakfast,” spoke a woman with dark hair whose curls cascaded freely down her back and over her shoulders. She smiled at the small child she had been speaking to and gently stroked the dirt-clods from his short hair. If he were lucky, he would continue with his family's business and farm the land of his ancestors rather than follow through with his desire to take up arms. She sighed to herself as she stood, her long skirt unfurling down to her ankles, just barely revealing the leather boots she wore for comfort and practicality. Her gaze fell on the sword beside the youth, the rusted weapon that had caused the infection she had treated. She frowned as she imagined a limb being forced to be severed if she had not been informed, or worse, an older form of the young boy being run through with a similar weapon as a crowd cheered around him.
In an attempt to stop the violent thoughts that entered her mind whenever she thought of the gladiators, the tall woman turned her attention to the boy's mother who watched her every movement, fear evident in her eyes. The woman was shaking, barely able to stand, though it did not stop her taking a step back as the healer took a step toward her. She paused in her approach and lowered her head, used to the treatment by this time. She was the crazy woman who remained working for the arena years after she had begun, forgetting the fact that she was unable to leave by any means but death. It was thought to be unnatural to continue such work and seem unaffected, that she must work in the dark arts or sacrifice children. The thoughts and superstitions of the town were only promoted by the vile King that ruled over them, and truly, she did not blame them for their misconceptions.
Pandora Gradanias had been affected considerably by the death and injury she saw on a daily basis, but she had her own methods of coping, of not allowing the strain to weigh on her mind. She forced a smile for the other woman and moved to hand her the potion before changing her mind and setting it on the side table instead. “Be sure he takes his medication. And keep that blade from him. It will only cause him more trouble than the metal itself is worth,” she advised, gathering her equipment into her satchel and placing her bag over her shoulder. She was about to excuse herself when a loud banging shook the door on its hinges and two fully armored soldiers stepped through.
The man to the right with the horsehair headpiece sneered at the meager accommodations of the poor and knocked a jar to the floor, sending its pieces scattering the the contents within to lay in a mound on the floor. He turned his gaze to the healer of the room and frowned deeply at her. “You are to be in your quarters when the games are afoot. Regardless of what day your duties fall on,” he stated hurriedly so as to avoid the woman cutting him off. “You are needed in the stables, His Royal Majesty's orders. It seems you have someone worth healing to attend to. Speak to Jacob and get to work.”
The woman bit back her remark, swallowing her pride for the sake of the people who's home she was currently within. She knew the soldiers, they would not hesitate in destroying the woman's meager belongings for her defiance. Her olive eyes steeled to the man she stood nearly at eye level with, the woman brushed by him, ignoring the hand that brushed against her as she did so. She was used to the lechery of the soldiers, though no longer was forced to entertain them at night. It was rumored she had the power to force a man's genitalia to fall off after one particular soldier suffered from a painful ailment the day after forcing her to bed. If those rumors kept the men from coming near her, then she was more than happy to help promote them.
Not a word passed her lips as she made her way to the arena, followed closely by the soldiers until she had made her way into the stables. She reached into her satchel to tie the worn brown cloth over her hair to keep it back as she stepped into the main area, casting a look about her until she had spotted Jacob and The Ice Queen. She had never had the priveledge to work with the other before, but her reputation far preceded her. She was good at her craft and, that was all she really knew of the woman, placing aside the rumors of her lineage.
She stepped to Jacob surely, inclining her head to him in a show of respect and knowledge of his status over herself. He cast a glance at Sylvani and lowered her eyes in the same show of respect, despite her age. “I was informed to report to this team by the King's guards and heal those in need. It is good to be placed in your team again. Perhaps they can last longer than the other band.” She cast a glance around at those in the area, seeing clearly those that had been healed and those still in need. “If you would excuse me, it would seem there are still those left in need of healing.” She inclined her head again and marched surely through the area, stepping around goblin carcasses and charred remains of limbs to approach the man with expressive golden eyes.
The woman stopped before him and immediately went to his shoulder, examining the wound there before beginning to withdraw supplies from her bag. “My name is Pandora,” she said as she poured a liquid onto a cloth in order to cleanse the wound. “This will sting, but it will kill any possibly infection that you may have obtained.” She placed the cloth on the wound and held pressure to it to help stem the blood flow, counting in her mind to be sure it was cleansed thoroughly. A glance to the man's forearm made her eyes widen as she pulled the cloth away. “I had intended to stitch the wound, but seeing as you have draconian blood, you are more likely to mend on your own,” she mused more to herself as she spread a protective ointment over the wound, sealing it from further bacteria, and wrapped bandages about him tightly to keep it well protected.
Once the major wound she could see had been taken care of, she looked the man over herself, looking for any nicks or scrapes that did not belong. “Forgive me, but I had not seen the battle. If you could inform me of any further injury I may not be able to see at a glance, I shall assist you in healing it straight away.”
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Kelyren raised his eyebrows at the frosty reply. "...Okay, then," he replied hesitantly, feeling rather put off by Sylvani's attitude. His pride was smarting from the cold, heartless way she had shot down his greeting. There was an acidic remark sitting on the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out, but he decided against it - for now, at least. He would save the snappy comebacks for later, unless Sylvani said or did anything else that annoyed him.
So she's going to be in charge of us lowly grunts? Wonderful. I'd take literally anything over this woman. I'd rather have someone who's lazier than I am. I'd rather have a hot-tempered maniac. I'd rather have a blundering idiot with no knowledge of healing. Hell, I'd rather have this cranky training master that the gladiators got landed with. Just anything other than this emotionless, arrogant rock. He rolled his eyes in exasperation and sighed, stepping away from Sylvani and turning his back to her. Very well then, Miss Perfect Princess, your humble servant shall carry out your bidding.
He pointed at the unusually friendly female gladiator - he couldn't quite remember who she was, but he vaguely recalled her name. "You. Happiness... Joy... Whatever your name is..." Kelyren frowned, trying to recall who she was. It took a moment or two but he finally managed to drag the girl's name out of memory. "Sorry, I remember now. Bliss. Have you been looked at yet? I think I saw some healing salve going around, but I'm not sure if it reached you."
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Fang had been on his way to help out the dragonborn, Dara, however it seemed the more experienced healers had things taken care of, and so yet again there was really nothing for him to do. Stepping back and looking the arena over, he watched as the Ice Queen from before, he had forgotten her real name already, was tending to a new girl who had quite literally just been dragged out into the arena. From the look of her she was an elf, and rather weak looking, probably from a lack of food and exercise, but he really couldn't judge, could he? After all he looked only a little fitter than her.
Seeing that everyone was pretty much taken care of, Fang puts the herbs away that he was going to give to Dara to chew on to help his throat heal, and instead made his way over to their trainer, the Ice queen, and the new girl.
"I'm sorry to bother you all, but it seems everything is taken care of here," he says in a low voice, trying his best to make it clear that he was in no way trying to be smug or make anything more of himself, "Is there anything else I should take care of? The gladiators with the more serious injuries have been tended to, the rest either have no wounds or have received the healing balm that the Lady Ice Queen," he was still unsure if she was actually a slave like the rest of them or an actual queen of something, and so he used such a title, "handed out earlier. I can do little else here...I'm sorry."
All the same it was true. In his years he had been made to fight, not heal, and so he had only the most basic knowledge of healing methods. No magic. He could use herbs, made simple potions and balms and such, but that was the extent of his healing knowledge. Maybe, however, this queen could teach him something new, so that he would make a better healer and the man in charge of everything, the blackhearted king, wouldn't make him kill anymore. What was the point in killing anyway? So much blood, and pain, and the cries just before the bodies went limp...
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Alaia held her tongue from the very beginning; watching the new formed team with calm curiosity and open ears. The little gathering before the battle she had left the gladiators to become more acquainted with one another, seeing it more important for them to be better familiar with the person fighting beside them for their lives; compared to the healers who were only there to help the unlucky few after the battle was long over with. Then in the stands was an even more important time to keep silent and observe. After all, it was much easier to heal a wound when you witnessed firsthand how it was created.
Now with the mock battle with the goblins passed, and the arrival of yet two more healers - one being announced their leader- and another gladiator; Alaia was the last to follow the others from the stands at the Ice Queen’s bidding. Though the other woman’s words were, to say the least, very tact; she had to admire her ability at healing the female elf’s ankle. Her own magic abilities did not come quiet as quickly, and her knowledge of salves was limited with no tinkling of an idea of how to even grow anything besides weeds. What the young fae admired the most perhaps, and found most shocking at the same time, was the forwardness to take charge. Even the gladiators were to be admired for their ability to jump forward into a fight; though she did have to agree that the doing so separately would more than likely lead to her having more work to do later on down the road.
Coming to stand amongst the gladiators for the first time since their arrival, Alaia did a mental check of each one after jumping at the yell from Jacob of gladiators still bleeding on the field. Who had been seen to already? Who was even injured to begin with? Who looked as if they were in pain in case she had missed something? Yet with relief, she could not find anyone fitting what she was looking for as the the new gladiator was being taken care of; now she could only pray she didn’t overlook someone’s needs.
Relieved with the fact all healers weren’t needed, that left one slight problem. What to do now? She had overheard Miss Sylvani… no, she insisted not to call her that… Sylvani telling one of the other healers they were to report to her cottage after they were released by Jacob; but being the first to leave, and worse yet, having to speak to the overly loud-rude-did-he-seriously-just-say-that man was not something she looked forward to. At least it appeared that another healer was having a similar dilemma.
Head turned slightly toward the trio; Alaia continued to do what she did best. Wait and listen, then act accordingly.
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Bliss grinned at Sean’s question about the weapon. Of course it was no foreign object to her, even if it were a little small to help the goblin's fight. "It's a dagger Sean, it looks a lot like the weapons that I usually fight with. Although mine are usually just a bit bigger and I fight with two of the same, they're actually really fun to fight with," She gave him a large smile, deciding once more that she really liked him, he was a friendly person, and once more dragged her hand across her cheek, trying to wipe away the blood. It did nothing but really get blood on her arm and smudge it on her face. She slightly grimaced and turned around, scanning for some salve to heal her wounds. It wasn't so much that it hurt- well, it did but she wouldn't admit that to anyone, it was the fact that she didn't want blood on her face; it would show how weak she was. She didn't want to look weak in front of the others, she was afraid that they would deem her unable to fight and blow her off as another gladiator that just wasn't worth protecting.
She sighed, looking around at all of the other gladiators and it made her slightly sad. They all had similar stories so there was no sob stories with them, they had been taken, sold or given from their homes and killed others so they could provide some sort of sick entertainment. They were forced to fight and had more than often watch teammates, friends and even loved ones died. It wasn't exactly an easy life but they couldn't really change it. Thoughts of rebellions whirred inside of her mind and she smiled. She absolutely hated killing but if she ever even got a remote chance to kill the monarch that they had now, she wouldn't even hesitate. She would free them all of the lives that they had here and hopefully a better king would take his place.
She just sighed, wishing the quixotic idea out of her head, it would never happen. Even if she were lucky enough to take part in a rebellion, they were the smaller force and would never be able to beat the king. So she just forced the thought out of her mind and grabbed some salve that she saw was getting passed around and rubbed it on her face, feeling an odd tingling sensation on her wound and then rubbed some over her hand, the same sensation tingling with her hands. She smiled and passed it on to someone else who needed it and stared slightly transfixed as her smaller wounds started to close right in front of her eyes. It was similar to what she used to use from several of her older healers but she always held the same sentiment to it, it was incredibly cool. She heard someone talk in the distance and she ignored the speech, deciding that it felt way to cool for her interest. She had just finished killing other things, she didn't want to become more depressed with someone's speech.
She turned when she heard someone talk to her; well she was positive it was her at least. When someone was asking for Happiness or Joy, it was usually a confusion with her name. Not a lot of people usually remember it anyways and the people that did usually just wound out dead. But she felt a huge grin land onto her face when Kelyren remembered her name, Bliss herself having a strangely good memory with names. "Yeah, I just did actually, thanks for wondering. Pretty cool fire breathing trick before actually, I can honestly say I've never seen something that cool happen before in my life. And you get to keep your weapon on you at all times, so that's really cool." She smiled at the guy, liking that he was talking to her much like Sean had done too. She could tell that those two were really friendly and she assumed right now that the others were just shy.
Finally" Jacob huffed under his breath. "Ok" he said raising his voice. "Its getting late, and if someone didn't hear me before when I was talking to our personal bonfire then I will say it again. we are fighting in the arena TOMORROW and I'll be damned if all of you die because the king decided to give us a fight the day after the team was formed."Jacob headed towards the gladiatorial barracks calling over his shoulder "Gladiators! Grab your chains and follow me I will show you your sleeping quarters. Healers do follow Sylvani's orders, and get that pathetic elf fixed up." Jacob entered the barracks and went through the mess hall the gladiators following behind him. "Where you sleep is under the mess hall" He said grabbing a rope tied to the floor in the back of the mess hall. Jacob gave the rope a strong pull bringing up a panel in the floor board showing a stairwell leading down wards. Jacob descended down into the sleeping quarters with the gladiators following close behind. At the bottom of the stair well a was a fairly good sized room lit by dim torches. The room had six cots laid down in it at regular intervals. In a corner there was a pile of coarse blankets and some thin pillows. "This right here is the five star treatment, normally gladiators would just get a blanket and then work their way up to this. Honestly I believe that it makes stronger gladiators but since all of you are supposedly already good in the ring and the king wants more entertaining fights well... lets just say you all got lucky. Ok I'm headed back up the exit out of the mess hall will be locked to keep from any escape attempts, there will also be guards on patrol all night." Jacob shouted while ascending the stair well. "Don't die tomorrow!" Jacob shouted as he left the barracks and locked the exit behind him. Tomorrow was going to be interesting to say the least. Jacob headed towards his shack that was on the other side of the practice field, He was going to have a few strong drinks then maybe pass out on his bed.
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The explanation Bliss gave left Sean regretting having kept the dagger, knowing it would be useless to him. He decided maybe one of the others would be able to make more use of it and so held the small weapon up into the air and began shouting, "Sean no want baby weapon! Who want? Sean no judge".
After the healers finished their work and Jacob finished his speech, Sean and the others were led to their sleeping quarters. The set up was a little better than what Sean was used to, as His tribe usually slept in half-assed shelters that were made just to last the night or they slept outside. Ever since he was captured, His sleeping arrangements had changed from place to place, so sleep had become easy regardless of the accommodations.
He claimed the cot closest to the entrance and grabbed a blanket and pillow, tossing them onto his new bed. Since his sleeping arrangements had been taken care of, Sean sat on his bed and thought about the battle earlier for a while, looking around at the rest of the people he'd be fighting with. No one else had his strength or size, and so none could fight like he did except for him. Perhaps Dara had been right about not rushing in...
"What plan for tomorrow? Sean want new tribe to win" He said as he looked about at the others. He would have offered suggestions about what to do, but charging was all he knew, and that was bad apparently.
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There was something deceptive about the ice-cold healer as she stood and listened to Jacob’s gruff speech towards the gladiators. Her face didn’t change, but there was a burning heat behind her eyes, a rage that could barely be tempered by her icy demeanor. “Healers follow me please,” she said. She also made sure that the new elf was still within her group before she led them along the same path as the gladiators but deviated to the left and behind the main barracks. The healers’ barracks had a little bit more to them, yet were still guarded just as heavily. If not more so. Gladiators were expendable. That was why they fought. Healers had to be looked after, guarded with an eye towards keeping them hale and healthy or the blood-sport would fail quicker than the king would like.
She passed the guard and opened the main door to their quarters. “This is where you’ll be staying. The healers are kept in pairs, so find someone you want to bunk with and you’re sharing a room,” she explained as she walked down the narrow hall. There were doors lined on each side that would lead into identical areas for rest. Each pair would have two rooms. One bedroom with a barred window, two beds and no decoration and one common room where they could study, make their potions or poultices, or relax. “I don’t care if you bunk male/male and female/female, or if you want to do male/female. It’s up to you. Keep following me. It’s not time to rest yet. We have a long night if the Gladiators are going to fight tomorrow,” she said. She kept walking down the hall. She had been passed from team to team and had grown tired of having to move her things to different rooms. So she refused to move during the last team she had been assigned to. She had to keep some level of control in her life.
“This is my room,” she said. “I’m not bunking with anyone, so I would rather you do not ask. If a gladiator is too wounded, or sick… and does not trust the infirmary, he or she will come here,” she said, nodding to the elf-gladiator that would be taken care of that night. She wiggled the handle to her door, unlatched it, pushed it open and moved inside. It was clear why she wouldn’t give up that room and hated having to move when she got a new team. Instead of two rooms, it was one large room with a bed pushed against the far wall under the still-barred window. There was a cradle full with red shrouds and cabinets full of vials. Her room had a pleasant scent to it as drying herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling. Her fireplace still had embers that she knelt by to stir back into life, pushing the pot back over the flames. There were shelves that held smaller books, tomes, parchments, and maps. A desk was shoved tight facing the wall, an inkwell held a quill feather and sharpened feathers lay off to the side. The chair was pulled out as if something had pulled her from her work. There were three other chairs close to the fire, and a cot by the cradle. Her closet held three white dresses, one red dress and an out of place looking emerald dress that looked too elegant for the healer to have. Above her bed was a red-sheath, inlaid with a black etching of a cheetah. The sword was nowhere to be found.
“Take a seat please,” she said to the healers after leading them into her room. She pulled the tie from her hair, freeing it and allowing the long strands to fall back down to her waist. She busied herself for a few minutes, pulling bowls down and ladling them with the thick stew that she had been brought to her with specific instructions on what she had to do, or not do. “Elf-gladiator, you need to eat,” she ordered. “Eat, and then bathe,” she said. The rest of the bowls were laid out for the healers to take if they wish. “I didn’t cook this,” she explained. “While I am good at what I do, I can’t cook. This was brought to me by a friend. So I wouldn’t worry about poison.”
They could take the meal or not, but her first advice came swift. “Death will make you hungry,” she said quietly, “You’re going to be rushing to heal gladiators. Slipping in their blood, trying to keep their insides from becoming their outsides… you’ll fight for hours to save them, and you may or may not but remember this. You have to eat. You have to remember that you cannot survive just running off of adrenaline. If you get a chance to eat. Take it. Carry bread with you, carry water. because when the fighting is over… you don’t want to have to fight death and hunger at the same time.”
“I’m not Jacob,” she said finally. “He’s concerned with having the Gladiators survive as long as possible, for reasons that aren’t mine. I’m concerned with having the Gladiators survive because it angers the King when the healers are able to thwart his plans, and I love thwarting him, in any way that I can,” she said. “Tonight I am going to ask that each of you tell me what you’re strongest in. Herbs, or magic. If you’re strong in magic… you’re going to learn how to be proficient in herbs. Herb users that don’t have magic…you’re going to become better with herbs.”
She looked at each of them.
She first looked at Fang with his scraggily hair and haunted eyes.
Then to Kelyren, who had tried to crack a joke earlier and learned that she had no time for humor. She saw his pointed ears, nodded and moved on.
The slender, demure female was next. Alaia. If Sylvani could get her name right.
Last, there was the older woman who seemed to have quite a bit of knowledge when it came towards healing.
She nodded to each of them in turn, conveying her respect and understanding for the difficult job that they were going to be facing. She was more approachable in the privacy of her own room than she was in the field.
“There are seven gladiators and five of us. I want each of you to claim one Gladiator as your own. The one that you will heal after each fight. There will be two left over. Whomever isn’t claimed at the end will be healed by myself and whomever I decide to be the second strongest healer. I am not going to tax any of you in your healing abilities in order to find this out. If you think that you are capable of healing two people, then speak to me before you retire for the night. If you would rather not have a gladiator to yourself and would rather shadow me, or another, speak to me as well. But, you need to decide quickly. I need to know how we can best serve these gladiators so a repeat of this afternoon does not happen again.”
Her silver eyes turned pensive as she thought through what she had to tell the gladiators. None of it was fun for her. “Let me tell you about the rules, training, and things I have noticed before I’ll take questions, concerns and suggestions. You are not allowed to have a romantic tryst with any of the gladiators. The King wants to keep the Healers bloodline pure. You are breeding stock to him. You will be with whomever he tells you to be with. Without question, or complaint,” her voice dropped to a whisper in case a guard was listening, “but, if you can carry out your tryst without anyone finding out, more luck to you,” her voice rose again. “You are not allowed to bet on the fight. Healers remain neutral,” her eyes hardened, “you will find the corrupt healers that are going to bet on the fight. Watch your gladiator well. There are those that will try to poison them, or try to slow them down so their bet is nearly guaranteed. You are the gladiators’ best defense. Now, onto training. Start carrying a dagger with you. I will give you books to study from so you can learn recipes. If you can’t read, come to me and I will read to you. Every evening, I want at least two of you here making potions, bandages, salves, balms… whatever you think you need with you. You will make. You won’t buy from other Healers outside of this team. I wouldn’t trust them. One day a week I am brought into the forest to gather more herbs, flowers and the like from the garden that I have, as well as the wild plants. You are welcome to come. If you try to run, the guards will bring you back. I would rather you just stay close and not make a muck of the privilege I have finally gotten.” She tried to think of there was anything else she had to explain, and then remembered it. “Oh yes. Your meals, with the exception of supper, will be taken with the gladiators. When you’re not training with me, or sleeping, you’re with your gladiator. I want you to get to know them. I want you to learn how they fight, what wounds they are prone to getting, what their pain tolerance is, if they are afraid of spiders,” her lip quirked in the corner as if remembering something pleasant before it faded. “I want you to learn all you can about them so that you are invested in saving them, and have the tools at hand that can enable you to do so.”
She finished talking, cast a glance at the elf that she was taking care of for the night. “If you need anything, let me know,” she said. “other than a good night’s rest and a long soak in the tub.” She kept going back to the gladiator, checking up on her. Then, she was back to the Healers. “Questions, concerns, utter confusion at what I’ve told you. If you know the name of the gladiator that you want to care for, or if you think that you are fitting to be my second – or if you really don’t give a damn… let me know. Now it’s your turn to talk, and I hope that all of you do,” she looked towards the elf-gladiator. “That goes for you too. Don’t be afraid to talk or ask questions.”
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Kelyren followed in silence, he was beginning to feel tired even though he hadn't done much of anything that day.
He cast his gaze about the rooms as they walked down the hall, dismayed at the fact that he would have to share a room with someone else. There was only one person that he had ever felt comfortable sharing a room with, and she was no longer around. He bit his lip, trying not to think about that before memories dragged him out of the present.
No big deal, I can just adapt. I don't have to sleep in the same room as whoever I'm with, anyway. I could just sleep in the common room. Or they could sleep in the common room.
He looked around Sylvani's room, taking note of the decorations and all the various odds and ends. He did not sit down, instead, he stood near the door and listened to her. The food was tempting, but he made no move towards the bowls. He would only eat if others did. A nagging little voice in his head told him that the cold-hearted healer did not seem too fond of him, and pigging out probably wouldn't help him look any better.
"I'm not too good with herbs," Kelyren admitted with a smile. "I'm a little more comfortable using magic. I guess I'll have to learn. As for pairing up... I'd prefer it if I didn't have to. I'd rather not focus on any one gladiator. They're all equally as dear to me, but if you want me to find someone to focus on, then I will."
And I don't want to get too attatched to anyone, he added silently, sadness tugging at his heart even though he was grinning lightheartedly. In case they die or something happens to them.
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He winced at the sting of the healer’s medicine, though the pain was more bearable than the blade that inflicted the wound. Dara had not seen this woman before, yet another unexpected member of their team. She noted the tell tale sign of his heritage and apparently decided not to give him a stitch job, while it was true that draconians had a healing factor, in Dara’s case it wasn’t to far from that of the average human, his arm however was probably the best place to receive the wound as it was the area of his body most affected by the trait. She asked if there was anything else injured, in response Dara attempted to speak, at first all he did was croak, but then organized a hoarse sound, “All I need is some water thank you, “ ha managed wincing smile.
It was then he noticed yet another newcomer, this time and elven female whom apparently was another gladiator assigned to their team. Dara frowned again, how can he possibly keep up with all of them? Perhaps it was naïve before, but he believed he could organize the team by getting to know one another a little better and that everything would just fall into place, Like I’m a natural leaderhe chided himself. But of course things did not go according to plan, to think this rag-tag group of misfits could work together cohesively, especially so suddenly was ludicrous from the beginning. Not only that but their first real match was tomorrow!
Dara was almost ready to give up then and there, look out just for himself in the matches, but he knew he wouldn’t last long that way. He realized that as divided as they were they had little choice but to be a team for their survival. There was definitely a hole of leadership needing to be filled. Sean though the strongest obviously knew nothing of tactics and organized assaults, his bravery did him credit but that was all. Bliss was good fighter, but didn’t have the discipline to lead. Leilatha, seemed to regard the others with a certain amount of suspicion, as if she didn’t trust any of them or would bother to lend a hand, that was just a theory though, but nonetheless not apparent leader material. Adriac and Rowan weren’t even vocal enough to regard themselves as the leader type, and that new elf girl just seemed confused.
Meaning that if any sort of director of their little band was to be there…it would have to be him, not that he was going to bark out orders expecting results that would create more backlash than anything else, especially from Sean. Ironically when they reached their sleeping and Jacob left them to themselves Sean was the first to ask about a plan. Seeing this as his chance to subtly assume the role, Dara addressed them, “Well seeing as how we took a bit a beating I suggest those still on the mend pair with up those still fresh and able, that way we minimize continual casualties to those still hurt.”
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The loud mouthed man had just announced there would be a fight tomorrow. Anvain couldn’t believe she would be thrust into the fighting so quickly. He did have a point about everyone getting adequate rest, tiredness often became sloppiness and coupled with a weapon increased the chances of injury or death. Anvain assumed the elegant woman to be the leader of the healers, Sylvani as the loud man called her. The small elf bristled at the comment of “pathetic elf”; Anvain had been a step away from becoming the leader of the rangers in her camp. She’d show him what sort of fighter a ranger could be.
While walking behind Sylvani to the healer’s quarters, Anvain searched for the best place to scale the wall. The guards could be a problem, but she was used to moving quickly in the trees and it would be unlikely they would see her at night. Once she was back in good health she would make her escape back to the forest. Crossing the threshold into the barracks Anvain began to feel great panic; it was terribly unnatural for her to be in a place like this. Many trees had been killed to build this Anvain realized. Having lived in caves and tents all her life she could not imagine a reason for cutting down so many trees to make a fancy shelter. Still she refused to look weak in front of these healers, so she swallowed her panic and walked till the group reached Sylvani’s room. When offered a bowl of stew Anvain took it eagerly and quickly scooped great spoonfuls, hunger overpowering her manners, she looked up and gave the tall women a nod of thanks before continuing to eat.
One thing began to puzzle Anvain, both the man and Sylvani spoke of the healers needing to prevent the gladiator’s deaths. Were the fighters here that careless to cause life-threatening wounds upon each other? There had only ever been one death to occur in her camp from a fighting match, a fluke at that. Forcefully pushing the thought away, Anvain scraped the lasts bits of stew from her bowl. Even though the talk of herbs and poultices did not pertain to her, the elf listened with rapt attention. She had always wanted to learn more of her mother’s craft. Though she was far from home she still had a desire to heal and help, surely inherited from her mother the undisputed best healer in the camp.
When Sylvani asked if there were questions, Anvain wanted to stay silent still unsure how she should act in this strange place. She did have many questions, some she couldn’t ask the healer for fear of being reported to Jacob and ruining her chance of escape. Setting the bowl down, Anvain stood and spoke. “My name is Anvain Koravelki, I was a skilled fighter in my camp. I know a few things about herbs, I have hopes to one day become a healer. I used to live in a great forest, so I would rather be under trees than the open sky.” She did not want to give much information to these people till she knew what their opinions were and if they could be trusted. “Thank you for the stew Sylvani, it helped restore my strength. I will be glad to wash the dirt from myself as well.” Furrowing her brow for a moment she asked. “Where would I find the bathing room?”
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Leilatha stayed quiet through the whole part of the Ice Queen’s healing, she just let the woman do her thing and hoped that her ankle would be well enough for the fight tomorrow. She did however give the healer a slight nod of her head to say thank you before hearing their trainer say something about a new gladiator. Great. Can this day get any worse. She wanted to take a look at the newbie but she was blocked from her view.
Leilatha grabbed the salve that was handed to her by one of the gladiators. She gently brushed it across her scratched arms before she hobbled over to Rowan who looked rather upset with himself. She stretched out her arm to hand him the salve. What’s his problem? Another emotional wreckage. Well at least he does not talk twenty-four hours a day like some of the others. She shook her head feeling rather tired and exhausted before she listened to what Jacob had to say.
Finally they were shown to their sleeping quarters, nothing that outstanding but still better than she was used to. She noticed Sean had already decided what bed he was going to take and then asked what the plan was for tomorrow. Of course Dara was the first to answer. This annoyed her a little but she was not really sure why, maybe it was the fact that he was taking the role of the leader and she didn’t like to be told what to do. Either way she would still listen to what he had to say.
As Dara spoke she made her way slowly towards the pillows and blankets and at the same time glanced across the room trying to work out which bed she would like to take. She took the bed on the end, that way she would only have to lay next to one of the others and hopefully it was a gladiator that would actually sleep and not talk. She heard Dara say something about pairing up. Sure thing, I am hell going to trust a person I just met today. He obviously has no idea how I ended up here…nor will he or any of them know. She throw her pillow and blanket rather aggressively on the bed before taking a sit on the edge.
Her eyes trailed down to her ankle. That Ice ***** did a pretty good job. She rubbed her fingers across it gently trying to massage it a little. Leilatha would wait for some of the other gladiators to respond to Dara’s proposal before maybe speaking her mind for once.
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Dara's words caused Sean to scratch his head in confusion. Partner up? Weren't they already on a team? After a few moments thought Sean threw his hands up in frustration and began pacing about the room, thinking of how he could help the others to not die. His thinking gave no fruit, and so Sean sat back down on his cot and sighed.
"Sean not charge tomorrow until others charge. Sean find biggest thing on field and kill. Plan?" He said looking hopeful towards the others. His brain had no room for tactics, but it had never needed it in the first place, and with his strength and ferocity, the others just pointing towards whatever needed to be killed was probably the best use of his talents. It was, after all, all he knew...
"Whoever want most killings be Sean's partner" Sean said with a giant grin, then looked again at the others as he judged who had the most ferocious warrior spirit amongst them. He lingered on Leilatha and smiled. "Angry lady look as strong as Sean, You be partner Angry Lady?" He asked with a beaming smile, unaware if his words were only making the angry lady more angry, but angry was good. Sean relied on anger to win. With Leilatha being smarter than him, she could easily tell Sean what enemies to kill, and keep him from getting in over his head.
Sean decided upon stating his plans for the fight, to go ahead and lay down and prepare for sleep, using the blanket as more cushioning for his pillow.
"Sean can't wait for freedom. He will unite clans and kill metal men until they die... Then Sean can battle until defeat" He said as he began nodding off, then eventually falling into a deep sleep... the snoring was not far behind...
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The experienced healer followed along behind Sylvani as she brought them to her new barracks, not too worried for the gladiator she had left behind as she was sure he would be able to get himself a glass of water in his own sleeping quarters. She allowed herself to lament for a moment on having to bring her herbs and instruments to another new room, but such was the life of a gladiatorial healer. As they entered into Sylvani's room, she took a seat at the woman's table when prompted and looked down at the stew before her. She slowly spooned the stew to her lips as she listened to Sylvani's explanations, suggestions, and concerns. When the woman had finished her speech and given the floor to the healers, Pandora looked about her and listened to the concerns voiced by Kelyren and Anvain and made no comment on them. She had nothing to add to where it was her place, not knowing the barracks to know where the wash room may be, nor explaining that one healer could not heal a platoon of gladiators on their own.
When it was her turn to speak, Pandora spoke clearly, not feeling the need to raise her voice very much in the small room. “If it would please everyone, I do not mind cooking the meals. This way, we do not have to rely upon an outside source for our meals. I have particular herbs as well that season food in addition to adding nutrients,” she informed the group, finding that she may as well continue speaking now that she had the floor. “My name is Pandora Gradanias and I have been healing and studying herbs for many years. To say the least, I am quite profficient in herbal healing, as I am without magic.” She looked around at those in the room before speaking aloud again. “It matters not with whom I share my quarters. I sleep lightly, rise early, and tend to be unable to sit idle. I am old enough to be most of those here's mother, and to speak quite frankly, I have seen it all before.” She truly did not care with whom she bunked, though she silently preferred it be a neater person. With the herbs and vials around, it could be quite dangerous to simply place items anywhere.
She closed her eyes in thought, imagining the glimpsed images of the gladiators before her. The only one she could recall was the draconian man, and she opened her olive colored eyes with a nod to Sylvani. “The gladiator I was working on earlier, I know not his name yet, he is draconian. I have had basic experience with those of dragon descent and if no one else wishes to volunteer, I feel comfortable working with him.” Of course, she would have to properly introduce herself to him, as well as the other gladiators in her team. They were all to work together and she knew the 'teaming' of healers and gladiators was simply there to help heal the wounded quicker.
At the mention of the King's tendency to breed his healers, the normally pleasant woman's eyes hardened considerably. “What Sylvani says is true. Unless you wish to be breeding cattle for our king, I have alternative solutions,” she spoke in a soft whisper so as not to alert any guards. “One must gain a reputation. I have been considered bad luck, a curse, and a witch, despite my lack of magic. It is amazing what a combination of herbs can do to the body when introduced in skin contact.” She turned to the men in the and nodded to them as well. “It works well for either sex, I assure you.” She had nothing else to add on the topic of romantic relations. She twirled the silver band on her ring finger and thought of her husband, of where he could possibly be. Such thoughts never sat well with her, however, so she took a deep breath, counted to five, and released the thoughts with her exhale.
“I only have one more thing to add,” she spoke, her eyes solely on the lead healer. “I have herbs, saplings, and equipment in my former room that I need with me if I am to make my salves, potions, and bandages properly. There are some... unique items that truly would benefit the team if they were in my possession.” The older woman did not want to divulge too much about her specialties to the group. If it was known what she had, then it would be asked where she had come across it, what she used it for, what the properties tended to be. Questions that she was not comfortable giving the answers to, especially not with so many listening walls surrounding them.
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Leilatha’s ears perked up a little hearing someone say ‘angry lady.’ For some reason she knew the person was addressing her since clearly the only females were her and Bliss and Bliss was not an angry woman. Her eyes trailed to the barbarian Sean who appeared to be smiling at her rather happily. She however, did not return a friendly smile instead just glared at him. She recalled the fight they just had moments ago, analysing Sean’s moves before determining if she would actually partner up with him or not.
His fighting skills were not as bad as she had expected, the only problem she could see with him was the language barrier and the fact he runs into danger. But then again while he is smashing and crashing causing the most damage as possible she would be able to then go through and finish of the enemy. She was known for beating her enemy further then is needed. Some gladiators would finish once their enemy was laying on the ground dead. Leilatha however would continue on the fighting. In many of her fights the guards had to be called in to pull of her opponent because she would not stop. Although she never meant to beat her enemies so much that she disfigures their face making them unrecognisable she can not control herself. Something inside her sends her off and she loses focus on what is going on.
Leilatha flicked her red hair out of her face trying to focus back on what was going on before her. She was rather surprised at the fact that Sean thought she was strong. Clearly she had suffered the most damage in the fight but still that larger man believed that she was a tough fighter. She was going to ignore the compliment because she knew that arrogance was a great weakness to gladiators. Being able to talk about what a great fighter you are will not win you the fight. However, if you can back up your trash talking that would be another thing. She was also questioned the fact that he decided to pick her over the others. Some of the others had unique abilities and powers while she was just an average gladiator so to speak. Although she might have some hidden skills they were nothing compared to being able to breath fire.
She sat there for a few moments making her final decision. “Okay…I will be your partner,” she spoke the last words rather faintly. Although Sean was going to be her partner and therefore she would be accepting full responsibility of having his back covered, she was not going to go out of her way to do so. For all she knows he might not cover her. Leilatha had said what she needed to and laid down on her bed, pulling the blanket over her as she gazed up at the roof. She closed her eyes but kept her ears fixed on the conversation.
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Bliss walked into the room, looking at the neat line of cots that seemed to just fit against the wall with slightly smaller than moderate spacing between them. She smiled at the promise of the warm blankets and pillows that seemed to dominate her line of sight. The room was a huge improvement from what she had stayed in last time, not to mention that she would have some company which would keep her from getting lonely, which was a lot more than what she had had the last few places. She smiled, although kept it so it was just a small quirk of her lips, hoping that no one would see it. It was nice to have people around her, it would prevent her from getting too lonely as well as give her the motivation she would need to keep on fighting and stay alive. Not that any of the others would probably realize it, she just assumed that all of the others would think of their team as some fighting advantage but it also helped Bliss much more emotionally, know that the company would help keep her spirits up as high as she wished them to be.
She walked over to one of the middle beds and placed her pillow and thin, scratchy blanket down on the surface, hoping that she would be able to sleep once the conversation would die down. She hated when her insomnia acted up, it made her careless and sloppy in battle, something that many scars that could never quite be healed by her healers, could prove. She knew that they littered most of her body, a few smaller ones on her face included. But all of them had their battle scars, it was what proved how strong of warriors they were, they had to be to be placed in the team. Like the angry man had said before, they were selected in the team for a reason and Bliss was still mulling over the small fact of how she had been sent. She knew that she had yet to die in the battle, which was miraculous in itself, but she had no real techniques in her fighting, she relied too much on the fact that she was faster than a lot of the other gladiators and could get that cut in.
She just sat on her head and clipped the cold chains and placed them on the floor beside the bed, sitting cross-legged on the bed, suddenly hoping for some conversation to try and stop the images of the dead goblins to sneak into her mind, drive her mad with regret. She sighed and listened desperately as Dara made a suggestion, it was a good one at that. Sean was quick to answer and his reply made her grin, yes, Leilatha did seem like a strong fighter. Bliss like the girl, she seemed strong both physically and mentally and seemed like the type who wouldn’t put up with disrespect if some unfortunate soul happened to show her just that. Her cold exterior made her wonder if it was her trying to hide away layers of herself, afraid to befriend and trust others just to get the crushing disappointment of knowing they had died. Or perhaps it was someone that had made it that way, a bad childhood or perhaps how she even got to get there, a lot of storied of how they had arrived to be a gladiator was never really a happy one. Bliss wanted to see the girl smile, as well as half of the other team. As far as the smiles she had seen from them yet . . . well . . . she really hadn’t. It made her sad knowing that they weren’t taking the most out of their life.
“It does sound like a good idea actually, maybe we could get with someone that would strengthen our fighting and we could work as a team. I mean, we could do it a lot of ways, putting a strong person with a fast person would take away the hole of weakness, but putting two strong people together and two swift people together, well, wouldn’t it bring out their advantage? I mean, both is good and I’m seriously not picky with who I get paired with . . . you know, as long as they can stand getting their ear talked off,” She smiled and gave Dara a wink, showing that her statement was only half off a joke. Well . . . it was more than a humorous statement, one that would in fact be very true. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stand not talking, it would probably drive her mad.
She turned her head, a smirk dancing on the edges of her lips as she saw Sean already passed out, wondering how the man had fallen asleep so easily and felt a small shock of envy pass through her system, sleeping proved to be difficult with her and her dreams would taunt her of things that had happened. She had more than a few times found herself to wake up thanks to her own shrill scream and she hoped that none of that would happen here, all of the others would probably just let her die because she would be taking away hours of their sleep. She shook her head, forcing the thoughts out of her head and trying to focuse herself back to the present and see what was happening.
“I mean, it would probably help us get to know each other better, just because we’ll probably be fighting along side for the next while and it would probably be nice to know about the others,” She smiled, hoping that the others wouldn’t feel awkward from Bliss wanting to know about them. She didn’t want their life story, although she would probably love to listen to them, she just wanted to know what they liked outside of fighting, maybe what they wished they could do or if they had any loved ones back at their home.
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Sylvani needed all of her healers to be in top form, especially for the fight that would happen soon. She wished that the one healer had more gumption and the displeasure showed on her face when he voiced that he’d rather not chose one. “I would stop trying to save yourself heartache by not getting close to them. None of them are near and dear to you if you will not pick even one to save,” she said coldly. She had given the Healers the option to not have a gladiator, but never thought that one would ask that he not have one. She shook her head, unsure what to do with him. She’d think about it later when she had time. At that moment, she had the other elf to take care of.
Her attention focused on Anvain and she nodded, pleased to see that the other had finished her stew. “If you wish for more, help yourself,” she offered as she stood, gesturing for the others to wait while she opened the door to her room. “I require water,” she said to the guard stationed outside. “Bring me seven pails of well water,” she said. The guards knew that it wasn’t best to anger a healer. Not when they came to healers for their craft as well. For a moment the Aubade woman softened and she handed a small pouch of herbs to the man, “for your wife,” she whispered but then they were back to being Healer and Guard. He left and she returned, the door closing behind her. “Anvain, you said?” Sylvani questioned quietly, “Jonathon, the guard outside, will be bringing in water and I will set up a privacy screen so you can bathe in peace,” she said.
The name of the guard reminded her of something else. “If you are wise, you will learn about the guards. Which ones you can bribe, which ones are friendly and which ones to avoid at all costs. Jonathon is my guard. His wife is pregnant with their first child and suffers from anxiety. I know this because he told me. I give him herbs to help and he turns the other eye when I need him to. Utilize the people that you can. Avoid the people that you can’t. If your gladiator becomes your friend… while it is hard, you are more than likely to fight harder for him. Your heart will break and your soul will die a little at a time with each death that you can’t prevent, but you can overcome it, if you’re strong of will and you all have to be. You’re healers.”
Her eyes moved to Pandora. Listening to the woman speak. She heard the wisdom in the elder woman’s voice and was smart enough to not feel threatened by it. “All right, Lady Pandora. If you would care to assist me in the greater wounds, even without magic, I would appreciate it,” she said. “If you wish to care for the man you named, he is yours. There are others that we can tend to but we will worry about them once I can remember their names,” she said. “If you have herbs that you don’t trust in your room, you are free to put them in mine. My…” her voice cracked and she stopped, composing herself. She continued on, her previous vulnerability gone. “My previous gladiator warded my room. That was his strong suit. Wards. Protection. It won’t dissuade all, but it will dissuade the weak of mind.”
She quieted, the fire crackled and warmed the room as she looked outside. It was getting dark. There was a push on the door and the guard returned with a handful of women, each with pails, upon seeing Sylvani, they placed them inside and quickly left. A black dog wandered in, sat at Sylvani’s feet and barked. She petted over his massive head, leaned down and hugged him. “Bring him in,” she said, pointing towards the door. Before any could ask questions, she explained. “That black monster is named the Brute. He is a herding dog, a guard dog. Not my guard but someone else’s.” It was clear that she had been lying earlier when she said that she didn’t share a room.
“Anyway, healers… please, finish your stew while I go prepare Anvain’s bath and answer any questions that she has. If you’d like to look through the books or discuss among yourselves, please do so,” she said before she got up to pick up the pails and move them to the bathtub. It was a tedious process of dumping the water in and allowing it to heat before the fire before adding more water and repeating the process, but in the end, the woman would have a heated bath.
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Kelyren raised his eyebrows. "Who said I'm trying to save myself heartache?" he asked. "If I was trying to save myself heartache, I wouldn't be here. Oh, wait. The arena owns me. Guess I've got no choice in the matter." He shrugged, giving Sylvani a cynical smile, wondering why such a cold-hearted individual cared so much about what he might be thinking and who he chose to heal. "You're the boss lady, though. If you think I should pair up with a gladiator, then I'll trust your judgement. I just need to figure out which gladiator to choose. I need one that won't drive me insane."
He fell silent and took in the advice about the guards. It seemed sensible enough to him. The guards could potentially get him in trouble or get him out of trouble, best to have them on his side. He made a mental note to find a guard who looked approachable, and find some way to get on his or her good side. What could get a guard on my good side? he mused. Maybe food. I'll have to see if I can sneak anything from the mess hall.
The brief display of emotion from Sylvani surprised him somewhat. So she did have emotions, she just kept them under a tight lid, which was understandable to him. Kelyren couldn't blame her - or anyone, really - for behaving in such a manner in an environment such as the arena.
He was even more surprised to see the large black animal wander in. The dog looked deserving of its name, but it seemed well-behaved and from what he saw, the dog did not act like a brute. He wanted to pet the dog, but he resisted the urge. He was probably unfamiliar to Brute, and he had no way of knowing if the dog would attack him for getting too close.
"So, uh," he began, eyeing the dog thoughtfully before turning to the other healers. He couldn't think of anything meaningful to say, but the silence was making him feel somewhat awkward. "Guess we're all going to have to choose a gladiator and a roommate, huh?"
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Pandora listened as Sylvani spoke with Kelyren and the other healer responded in kind, reading the ice beneath their words. They couldn't have a division among the healers and seemed a bit more relaxed when the tension in the room cleared a bit. She continued eating until she had finished her stew and set the bowl off to the side. She would feel better making a contribution to their shared space once she started cooking dinner for the healers. She stood from her spot and began to clear up those who had already finished, not one to sit idly about.
Sylvani had addressed her and she turned her attention to their designated leader, a smile blossoming on her face. She gave a short bow toward the younger woman as she continued cleaning up. “I will do so. And please, Pandora is more than acceptable. I shall happily assist you. And thank you for allowing me to assist that man. I shall keep my eyes open for another gladiator who may need my assistance,” she explained. She turned serious when Sylvani offered her own space to store her more rare and valuable herbs. She thought on it a moment before giving a short nod. “Thank you, I do believe it would be best if they were kept here,” she said appreciatively, but kept their properties and what they were more secret. Such information was dangerous if made public knowledge.
The older woman had a guard or two who had asked for her assistance in healing their children and had formed a bit of a truce with them. In this way, she would be able to transport her more valuable herbs with a bit more security than she would have previously. She saw the beastly dog move into the room and smiled at the interaction between woman and animal. A bit of companionship was always good for the soul and she imagined that the dog was the only being this young woman opened up. After finishing clearing the area, she went to the bookshelf and removed one of the volumes, flipping through it idly and making note of a few of the recipes within.
Her attention shifted to Kelyren as he filled the silence and she gave him a warm smile. “So it would seem,” she agreed, setting the volume back on the shelf and moving to the other healer. “How long have you been healing in the arena?” she asked for conversation's sake, tucking her skirt about her as she took a seat again. Healing in general and healing in the arena were two separate things, and one could usually tell when someone had been under the king's rule for a while. “There is safety in numbers, having a roommate. We can work together easier as well,” she added, twirling her silver-banded ring about her finger. “As for a gladiator, it is merely for organizational sake. This way, healers are not bumping into one another or more than one healer rushing to one gladiator's side.” She smiled a bit more strained at him as she continued. “If you do become close to a gladiator, you will feel the pain of heartache is something happens to him or her. It matters not how you close yourself up to it. But we can pull through it and simply do our best to heal those that remain.” It was clear she had known such heartache in the past, and was accepting in that she would feel it again. Unfortunately, that was her lot in life, but she was accepting of it until such a day came as to end the tyrannical rule of their horrible king.
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“You’ve got to be shitting me… how do you expect me to house this… this… THING?”
There was a tumultuous yelling outside of the gladiatorial stables as a man stood in front of the main doors with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like a man that was used to living in luxury. His hands were soft, never touched a sword, his eyes were cold. He made his money on the blood that soaked the arena and this new creature was going to bleed him dry. He knew it. “It’s going to eat more than it’s worth! Can’t you sell it to the salt mines?”
The answer was too soft to be made out.
“I DON’T CARE! I DON’T WANT IT IN THE WITH THE OTHER GLADIATORS!”
The yard fell silent. Everything stilled as his words echoed. The man could be heard swearing as the door was thrown open. “Fine! FINE!” he screamed, “if this is what it comes to, fine! but if it eats everything, I will kill it myself!”
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The steady four-beat moved over the hard floors as the portly overseer led in the creature, jerking at the reins that were around its neck, forcing the creature to stay at its shoulder. “****ing thing probably doesn’t understand,” the overseer muttered. “Where am I going to put you?” he asked the creature. He led it down past other teams that stared openly at the liminal beast. Such an expensive creature and it was in the ring. What had it done? What team was it going to be placed in? Where was it going to sleep?
The creature was a domesticated Centaur. They were taller than their wild brethren, their colors varied more, and they were built for speed and endurance. They were the perfect blend of animal and man. The man-half reached the nominally impressive height of 5’8. Tall for his breed. His hair was dark brown, tousled around his pale face. His eyes were pale, nearly white, a rare color for any horse breed, especially those that were the racers. His chest was devoid of any clothing, showing his lean but muscled chest, his strong arms and broad shoulders. The brand of his first owner shown on his neck, his mouth had hard scars from the harsh bit that had fallen from his mouth. His human torso blended seamlessly into the ebony flesh of the horse lower half. Scarred at the sides, the ribs on the horse had started to show. His withers had a splash of white, as if someone had thrown paint over him.
The overseer stopped in front of Bliss and tossed the reins down on her bed. “Take it. Your new teammate. Meet Cutlass-Prince,” he sneered as he patted the shoulder of the creature. “Gods help you, you’re going to bloody need it,” he said. His eyes roamed over Bliss’ body, lingering here and there. “Watch yourself around this one. You know what they say about Centaurs,” his voice dripped with insinuation before he turned to walk away.
Cutlass shifted and kicked out with his back leg, catching hoof to the man’s knee. Perverse pleasure shown in his blue eyes as the man’s leg bent at an impossible angle and shattered. The centaur turned and glared at the man who writhed in pain. “You are more likely to harm a woman than I am,” he said smoothly before he turned back to the woman who had been tossed his reins. “Excuse me, Miss.” He bent down to pick up his reins and lifted them up, removing them before he tossed them to the floor. “You’ll want that back,” he said to the overseer, “I am not allowed to own property, tack included.”
He shifted and tried to figure out where he’d lay. He was a large creature and there wasn’t much room for the human/humanoid creatures. He sighed. The world was not meant for a centaur. He stayed standing, his tail flicking to the side to brush off a fly that had landed on him. He didn’t comment further on why he had been made a member of the team, or what his strengths were. It was clear that one blow from him was enough to shatter bone, but that was the same from any horse or centaur. He wished that he had his guitar, that would be enough to soothe him. Instead, all he could do was try to keep his mind off of what would be coming the next day. Fighting. He hated fighting, but he would because that was what he was told to do. “Don’t worry Miss,” he spoke quietly to Bliss. “Whatever you’ve heard about Centaurs… we can’t be as bad as some of the humans.” He spoke well, for what a person would consider a ‘beast’. His voice was rich, but had a grave undertone to it, as if he’d seen more sadness and hardship and was used to his lot in life.
His was a broken spirit in all sense of the word. A centaur had to be broken before he’d willingly race in that sport, before he’d agree to carry a human on his back. Gone were the proud creatures they had been, in their place was a misunderstood, and vilified creature who wanted nothing more than sweet grass and someone to itch the scratch that was at his back, between his shoulderblades.
He’d give anything for someone to do that for him.
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Oh, great. Here comes the questions. Kelyren hesitated, thinking over the older woman's questions. Was she genuinely curious about his past, or did she have other motives for asking?
"I've been healing for a while," he said casually. "I'm not exactly sure how long, though. Didn't keep track of the months going by." He gave Pandora a charming grin, hoping she would not pry further. A flash of something shiny and metal metal on her hand caught his gaze, and he glanced down at the ring. Perhaps the guards and overseers of the arena were not as tyrannical as he had heard, if they let this woman keep her jewelry.
"Safety in numbers," he echoed, and frowned as he felt a twinge of worry. "Does this mean there's something that might threaten or endanger us? I'm not paranoid or anything, just want to know if I should be looking over my shoulder."
He weighed the pros and cons of sharing a room with the older woman. She seemed like an even-tempered, kind sort of person, which meant he'd probably get along well with her. On the other hand, she was ... well, female. The thought of sharing a room with a woman (and an older one, at that) made him slightly uncomfortable.
"If you think we should be roommates, that's okay with me," Kelyren said in a relatively neutral tone. "From the looks of things, I could learn a thing or two from you."
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It was very tempting to accept a second bowl of stew, but Anvain knew that after eating so little during her entire captivity; it would be best to build up the amount of food she ate gradually. Moving to stand at Sylvani’s shoulder, Anvain made a note to begin observing the guards for they would be the reason her eventual escape would succeed or fail. Anvain was pleased the elegant healer called her by name, she had been unsure if she would be treated with respect. At least Sylvani seemed to be kind; though distant as if the woman held a shield in front of her feelings, Which Anvain found strangely comforting because she was accustomed to emotional distance; in her camp it was very strange to see an elf show any strong emotion. Anvain had been the exception causing few others to accept her. Many elves believed her “instability” was inherited from her father; he left the camp before Anvain’s birth.
“Thank you; it will be my first bath in a long while.” Giving a nervous smile, Anvain began to examine the basin. All of her previous baths had been in streams and rivers. She didn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of Sylvani.
When the black dog entered, Anvain had to muster all of her courage to keep from bolting out the door. She normally loved all kinds of animals, but being inside a building built of trees made everything frightening to the small elf. No sky in sight except through a window covered with glass. Staying away from the lounging beast, Anvain helped pour a few of the pails into the bathtub. Once full, she began to unlace her leather bodice. But suddenly froze, realizing her sword was still under her shirt. Would the woman take it from her? Anvain decided to trust Sylvani, letting the sheathed blade drop to the floor she quickly wrapped it in her shirt and placed it next to the tub. Wincing for a moment as she stepped into the tub, the water was very hot, though almost immediately her tired muscles began to relax. It was a wonderfully delightful feeling.
Anvain smiled. Grateful the healer had prepared the bath; it was lifting Anvain spirits and soothing her fears. Taking a bar of soap Anvain began to scrub away the many days of travel upon reaching her left shoulder a bolt of pain shot through her body, angling her eyes she was surprised to see a large bruise covering most of her shoulder and the upper part of her arm. Then it came back to her, it had occurred just three days earlier when Anvain had made a comment about one of her capturer’s nasty smell, he simply turned to look at her with beady eyes and smashed his club into her shoulder then resumed preparing a fire for the night. Never uttering a word to the stunned elf.
Being heavily chained she did not get a chance to examine the amount of damage the strike had caused. Moving her arm in the water Anvain was relieved to discover she still had full movement except for raising it above her head, which was unlikely to be a problem since Anvain used her right arm mainly during fights. Besides Anvain was afraid to ask Sylvani to heal such a minor wound and there was the danger of Sylvani discovering her “unique” magic. That had been Anvain’s mother’s word for it, but her magic really only did one thing well, repelling healer’s magic. Whenever Anvain became injured in the forest only her mother could heal her for she was the only one to know her daughter’s secret and it was bad enough that all the elves knew Anvain was incapable of healing her own injuries, all other elves born in the camp were given the ability to at least heal minor cuts and bruises.
Curling her lip at the color of the bath water, Anvain continued scrubbing herself. Upon reaching her back she discovered it was quite impossible to complete the task, so she held the bar of soap out to Sylvani and a blush came to her cheeks. “Would you please wash my back? It seems during the journey here some of my muscles have tightened.” Before Anvain could help herself she also blurted out. “Who is this King everyone speaks of and why does he have the scorn of many people?”
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Sean seemed to comprehend well enough of the situation and made his choice: the “angry” elven woman whom accepted. Dara thought it good controversy had not yet come up, the last thing they needed was an argument over who went with whom, because they ether didn’t like them or wanted someone else etc. The young woman Bliss seemed to concur with his plan and even suggested a type of modification to it. “It’ll be better implemented after we’re fully healed, but I’ll keep that in mind,” he commented. As for her little joke her talkative attitude Dara gave a small smile, after all such a thing was the least of his worries.
Bliss also made a comment of them getting to know each other better, to which Dara answered, “Well besides my obvious heritage there really isn’t that much interesting about me, my views aren’t too dissimilar from anyone else in this room.” He was of course downplaying those facts, he indeed had his own past that would interest some, but he saw no point in bringing up those memories. Memories of that night…with a fire blazing around him…a cry from his father… a moment of complete despair before he sold himself in order to regain what they had lost. The draconic man pushed those thoughts away; they were useless at the moment.
He focused on his left arm, sending signals down it commanding his fingers to move. The muscles and nerves were intact and functional, the ointment that healer gave him coupled with his quasi-healing factor seamed performing exceedingly well, by morning it would be good enough to do the demanded strenuous tasks, albeit with some soreness throughout.
Dara then heard the footfall of hooves from behind him, his vision adjusted expecting see a horse, though he couldn’t imagine why one was being brought into their quarters, but instead his vision was greeted by perhaps the most exotic thing he had seen all day. A man, whom Dara could only assume was one of the men that profited from their exploits (or lack there of), brought in a centaur. It…he was more or less thrown right into their laps, being called Cutlass-Prince, though with the way the man pronounced it-it sounded like some sort of insult. He seemed to be regarded as beast rather than a man, something the centaur disproved by speaking fluently in the common language and promptly breaking the wealthy man’s leg with a single hoof strike, doing so with a certain amount of satisfaction Dara noticed.
When it was over with the draconic man only had questions. What was a centaur doing here? Was he meant to be part of their team now? How many more people were going to be apart of this before the end? Before this day Dara had never seen one of Cutlass’s kind, only heard about though word of mouth about various farms and racing circuits. If this indeed was meant to be an addition to their team, then it would either prove useful, or complicate things further. After pinching the bridge of his nose Dara said in a somewhat irritable tone, “Okay, guess we have to do the show and tell thing again. You can call me Dara, I can good with a sword and axes and I can breathe fire…sometimes. Everybody give him your names, skills, and get it over with, I don’t want any surprises or complaints tomorrow.” At this point that day seemed to be dragging on, Dara thought it was best to get acquainted with their new team member quickly so they could rest for the remainder of the night, they’d need their strength.
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Bliss smiled at Dara as he continued their meek conversation of tactics, the silence driving her mad. The others that were silent seemed to be lost in thought, may it be thoughts of memories or the fight that they had today, Bliss had no idea. She wasn’t very good at reading people but she was good enough to know that the air they sat in was one of sadness and slight anger. They felt anger at the king who made them do this, anger at the others who supported it and anger at whichever god they believed in for putting them in the horrible situation. She didn’t guess the thoughts that she was thinking, she too had felt the emotions they were feeling and they still continued to pop into her mind, even after her five years of being a gladiator. It never really become easier, you just had to somewhat come to terms with what you were put with and just deal with it.
Bliss’ thoughts were torn from her head when she heard faint horse hooves that seemed to reverberate around the night’s air. She looked behind her and was startled to see, of all thing, a Centaur standing practically at the foot of her bed. His eyes seemed to be devoid of any emotion although Bliss wasn’t certain if she saw some sadness lingering in them. She felt sad him, knowing of the creatures. Her father had prepped her for what she would mostly encounter in the arena, wanting her to be one of the best fighters. He had told her that Centaurs were evil creatures, not deserving of any titles really. At the time Bliss had believed him but by now, she knew it wasn’t really true. The stereotypes her father had told her never really held true, the people that she had fought with, or against, in the past were quite diverse and she had learnt by now to respect all races.
Although, as her eyes wandered, she saw the companion he had come with. A slightly larger man with annoyance in his eyes, his mouth set in a firm line, perhaps one of distaste. She had, from seeing and knowing men like him, had slowly started to lose faith in the human race. They were the main portion of people who watched fights and it made her angry at her own race, always wishing that she wasn’t a human. He told the Centaurs name, Cutlass-Prince, and Bliss shot the Centaur a small smile, making sure it was clear that the man who brought him down here received none of that smile, he seemed more than friendly. Although Bliss usually always thought a person was friendly when she first met them and had caught her more than enough flack in her life.
She shrugged her thoughts off when she felt a small shiver go down her spine and the fine hair in back of her neck stand up on end. She saw the man staring at her and she shivered at his wandering eyes, noticing how they stopped to stare at a few different places. She clenched her fists up in small balls, perhaps a way to shield herself against his stare. She wasn’t daft to the look of hunger in his eyes and had been more than once the cure to those type of looks. She knew that he wouldn’t do anything, well, hoped he wouldn’t. Not in front of all the others and the man surely couldn’t be stupid enough to drag a fighter off on his own.
Once more the greedy looking man started to speak again, something about being careful with the Centaurs and Bliss had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, realizing that this man seemed to peeve her. She highly doubted that the Centaur would do anything and she watched with slight glee as he kicked the man, probably breaking his leg. She did, though, smile at his words. Bliss had no doubt the man had taken strange woman to his bed before for a nights entertainment, ignorant to their terrified cries. Although she didn’t fixate on that for long because Cutlass started to speak to her, taking the reins back that had been on her bed.
He threw the reins back to the man and he seemed to just stand there for a moment. With a flick of her head, she saw that most of the gladiators were also looking at the Centaur, not knowing what to say, leaving it to the new gladiator that they had just received. She opened her mouth, ready to try and lift the strangeness from the room but Cutlass-Prince beat her to it. She smiled at his words, comforted that her earlier suspicions had been right. “I don’t doubt it,” She answered him, giving him a small smile, resisting the urge to pat his shoulder to reassure him because she didn’t want to insult him.
She smiled at Dara as he continued on as if nothing happened, now demanding names and talents from each of them to introduce themselves to Cutlass and Bliss had the off thought, wondering if Dara had claimed himself the leader of the group. She wouldn’t mind at all if he did, he was a good man and she had no problem following orders, especially when it was from someone she liked.
“My name’s Bliss, I’m pretty good with daggers or a simple sword when you give me one . . . these chains,” She gestured her head to the chains on the floor of her bed. “Well, I’m not too good with them.” She shrugged and continued on. “It’s what we’ve got though, so oh well. Did you manage to get some? Or are you going to just get them tomorrow in the arena, well, that is if we don’t get a weapon. Regardless, nice to meet you Cutlass,” She smiled at him, hoping to lift his spirits. He was going to be a teammate from now on, might as well make sure he was happy.
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“He shouldn’t bite you,” she said to the group when the Brute sat with her. “He’s only alerting me to my own negligence,” she said, watching as he trotted back out. “Not that I have forgotten, but he seems to think that I have,” she said. She knew that she had to get outside. While it was still relatively early in the evening, most people slept at that time. Too tired to stay up later. She had things to do, and it kept her busy well into the night.
Sylvani quieted and listened to Pandora and Kelyren speak together. With the absence of two healers, the other female fae and Fang… being taken away by the Guards and being brought who knew where, she figured that there were three of them. It was enough to heal the gladiators, given that most teams had one or two healers, this new team had three. Granted, the gladiators were a strong force, and getting them to trust one another would be hard. She wished that she could interject and explain to Kelyren that trusting one’s team was the best thing to do, but she figured it wouldn’t work. She sighed and shook her head. She felt the familiar pain building at her left shoulder, the same pain that came every night when she grew too tired. By mistake, she patted Pandora’s shoulder. She was used to some sort of company.
“There is only one other thing I can offer to you two,” she said finally. She exhaled slowly, willing the pain away. “You two can sleep in separate quarters. Because we’ve lost two of our healers, we still have the rooms. I don’t find it as safe, sleeping alone, but Kelyren…you seem uncomfortable with Pandora and me. If you’re going to have the best form for the gladiators, it’d be best if you were comfortable.”
She left that dangling for the other two to take before she went to Anvain and knelt beside her. She didn’t fluster or grow embarrassed at the other’s nakedness; she picked up the bar of soap, lathered the cloth and set to washing the other’s back. She kept quiet, her mind growing distant as she cared for the gladiator. In their dark world of death and bloodshed, at the end of the day what Sylvani enjoyed most was taking care of another.
A slight smile crossed her face as she used her thumbs to dig into the tender muscle by Anvain’s shoulders, trying to loosen them and relax her. “The King…The King is…” her voice turned sarcastic. “The King is a wonderful man that has our best interests at heart and only wants us to know that he punishes us like a father would punish his children. He doesn’t want to, but he must for our own good…” Her hands rested on Anvain’s shoulders as she thought about what she should say. The woman could be a spy. The King could be trying to see if she was loyal to him. Well… the King knew that she didn’t like him. “That is what he wants us to think. Or he tells us. The King, in reality is a cruel man that enjoys pitting people against one another. He’ll do anything to make sure that we are broken in spirit. The only way that we can fight against him right now, is to survive. That is where I come in, for you. You get injured and I heal you to the best of my ability. If I keep you alive, I anger him and I remind him that just because he thrives off of death…not everyone has to.” She stopped, “listen to me, rambling on when you should be sleeping,” she said quietly. She stood up and grabbed a towel, opening it for the female elf. “You can sleep here tonight, if you want. I have things to do in the forest tonight,” she said. Meaning she wouldn’t be in her room. “After this, you’ll be staying with the other gladiators.”
She moved back out with the other healers and set to packing bread, cheese, water, a blanket and a small brightly colored book into a pack. “Now, I’ll be gone for the night. Pandora, if you wouldn’t mind staying to watch over Anvain. I have things to do, people to see and while I normally wouldn’t leave my gladiator, I’m afraid that there is a pressing matter I must tend to,” she said. The very slight, tender smile remained on her face. “I doubt any of you three wish to go into the forest now anyway. Not with me. I have too many things to gather.”
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The centaur wanted little to do with the group arrayed with him. He knew that he wasn’t welcome, and wouldn’t be welcome. It went with the territory of being what he was. Still, at least two in the group attempted to treat him civilly, the female moreso than the male. “You shouldn’t be getting another teammate,” he said to Dara, understanding his concern that the group would get too big. “Look around, how many people do you have left? Not many. Not enough to fight in the ring.”
He shifted, lifting one hoof and putting it back down. It was hard for him to stand on that sort of ground. It would make him sore in the morning, but it would be worse if he tried to lay down and have the weight on his legs. His attention focused on the man, Dara, again. Listening to the way that he listed what he was good at, and his name. “I don’t need to know about you. Other than the name that I can yell out when I need you to get out of my way, or to swear at you if you decide to try and mount me while we are fighting. I am not a horse; I do not tolerate a rider. I don’t care what sort of idea that you have that involves me. I do not take a rider,” he had to emphasize that heavily. “Not anymore,” he huffed. Insulted with the very idea of having to tolerate someone sitting on him.
“I know that I am throwing a wrench into your plans. Whatever they were. A well-oiled team does not do well with a new cog thrown into the mechanics of it. I am that new cog, and I apologize. If you would rather rest and conserve your vocal cords for the screaming of the ring, that is understandable,” he said to Dara. “I am sorry that you are…less than pleased with my arrival. I will do my best to stay out of your way. It is likely that you will only see me during training and during fighting as you wouldn’t need to talk with me beyond that.”
He shied slightly as a shadow danced too close to his hooves. He sidestepped quickly before he realized that it was just a shadow. He looked towards Bliss, the woman whom the overseer had made his advances to, seemed quite capable of speaking to him as if he had intelligence beyond parroting information back to her, and managed a rueful grin as he tried to explain. “I am best with a bow and arrows,” he said honestly. “Decent with a sword, but it is not my preferred weapon. It is not natural for me to carry something made by man, and I don’t like close ranged combat. For obvious reasons,” he explained. A bow crafted by him was large, the string taunt and hard to pull. Other bows he was given, made by man, tended to break in his hands as he held them too tightly. The time and effort taken to make them were wasted, but he was learning to not break the weapon that he was given. He looked at the chains at the foot of her bed and shrugged. “I am not allowed property. Whatever I am given, I have to return at the end. If I try to keep something… punishment follows. I am not allowed property for I am property,” he said. It was a speech that was carefully memorized and he sounded bored, not angry, when he said it.
He tried to smile for her, a difficult feat for the creature that had little in stake for the ring. Still, he liked to keep people happy. Happy people were less likely to lash out in anger.
“You, Centaur, outside!” a man yelled and Cutlass turned his head to regard the man. He turned back to Bliss and Dara, bowing low to them, “pardon me. It would seem that the right to be housed with gladiators is not one that will be afforded to me. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me. It was a rare pleasure,” he said before he backed away carefully. He walked back to the door and left the stables. If any cared to look from the window, they’d see that he would be tethered outside in the grass like the horses were. A rope tied around his back leg, secured to a simple stake that could be pulled out if he tried. Yet, he was domesticated. In mind, body and spirit. He wouldn’t try to run. He’d only be returned.
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Pandora waited patiently for Kelyren's answer, and did not let on her disappointment at the cool answer he provided. She preferred companionship and being amicable with those she would be spending time with, but was enough used to the loneliness that came with her forced job. She couldn't blame the man for his guardedness around her, and simply gave him a smile in understanding, deciding to keep more to herself. He reminded her a moment of her son and his own guarded personality and realized that when he was ready, he would make the first step. The last thing she wanted to do was make him uncomfortable and put any sort of strain between them. They were on the same team and had to work together on and off the field to better their skills to better aide their gladiators.
The woman caught him looking at her ring, and she immediately placed her free hand over it, hiding it from view. She didn't want to think he might try and steal it from her to pawn off to the nearest guard for a favor, but she didn't know enough about him to think otherwise. Her wedding band, still remaining untarnished after years upon years of wear, was very precious to her and she had been forced to jump through hoops to even be able to keep it on her person. Again, she silently thanked her skill in herbalism and the books she had read, the experiments she had used to perfect both healing art and a more harmful art.
Untying the knot from her bandanna sent curls spiraling down over her shoulders, and she ran her fingers through the tendrils lightly, folding the raggedy bandanna with care and keeping it safe. For her, this scrap of cloth was as precious as the silver that banded her finger or the locket hidden beneath her shirt. When Kelyren's worry was expressed from any threat, she nodded to him seriously.”Yes, of course there is. We are the only line of defense that the gladiators have. If a guard, lord, or even citizen decide that they wish to help their odds in their bets, we are the easiest targets. I have seen healers poisoned, shot at with arrows, seduced, bribed, and stopped from doing their jobs by various other means. When it is said that all a healer has is their team and gladiators, it is correct.” She spoke kindly, explaining the danger to him so that he may understand what it was they were put up against often enough. She herself had been poisoned by a family she had thought were only trying to be kind to her. Luckily enough, she had an antidote for such a thing. Of course, it was worse treating one's self and reading through books to find out what it was that had done the poisoning.
Kelyren's neutrality did not fool the older woman's eyes for a moment and she understood how her presence could make him uncomfortable. She was about to suggest that perhaps they not share a room, thinking of an excuse on her part so as not to wound his pride when Sylvani stepped in. She felt the touch on her shoulder and smiled a bit, hoping that they would each be able to hold some sort of amicability for one another. “That does not sound like a bad idea.” She turned back to Kelyren and nodded to him. “I am still more than willing to help teach you and work with you on herbalism. And you can retire to your own space when you are ready,” she said sincerely, smiling warmly. She had a nature of motherhood about her and only wanted the best for those around her.
The long-time healer noticed Sylvani packing food and a blanket, curious that she would be going out at this time of night. She was slightly worried for the young woman, despite her mind telling her that the Audabe knew what she was doing, had been doing so for a length of time herself. She nodded at the request and stood. “Of course, I shall. Please, be careful. May the goddess watch over you and keep you from harm this night,” she prayed quietly, clenching her hands together for a moment before burying her worry and smiling at Sylvani. “I hope you find all that you are looking for. Perhaps, as well, if you come across any Rowan flowers on your journey, you could bring back some? They have deep purple petals and their leaves fork into V-shapes midway down.” She bowed to the other woman slightly and made her way over to the injured elf, smiling at her. “If there is anything you need at all this evening, please ask.” She noticed the dark discoloration of her shoulder and furrowed her brow in worry, examining it closer and thinking of what she had on her now that may assist her.
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Kelyren quickly looked away the moment Pandora hid her ring from his view. He flinched, knowing fully that she had caught him staring, and hoped that she did not bring it up. Thankfully, it was not brought up, and he made a mental note to keep his eyes away from people's belongings. Or at least, avoid getting caught examining them.
Sylvani's offer sounded good. Kelyren nodded in response, relieved that he might not have to share a room after all. Perhaps Sylvani was not as cold-hearted and cruel as he first thought she was. He was now somewhat aware of the dangers in sleeping alone, but he had a vague idea of some methods he could use to chase off intruders who might creep into his room while he slept. They would not injure anyone, but the ideas he had in mind would either wake him up, or scare any intruders away from him. The only obstacle was sneaking the needed supplies into his room without getting caught.
Then again, he thought to himself, a bucket of water and some breakable dinnerware is all I should need. They probably won't be too hard to get.
"I wouldn't mind that," he said to Pandora. "And I think I do need a teacher for some things, if it isn't too much trouble for you."
He watched skeptically as Sylvani came back into the room they were in and started packing. She looked like she was headed someplace for more than a few hours, judging from the food. The book intrigued him, and he wanted to ask what it was about, but he decided to remain silent and prevent his curiosity from getting him into any more trouble. It looked like he would be working with these women for some time, and he did not want to anger them. Kelyren still couldn't help but wonder what the book was about, though. What did the mysterious "Ice-*****" like to read?
"Where will you be going?" he blurted out, focusing his curiosity upon something else. "I didn't know we could be out and about during nighttime. The guards didn't let me out the last time I tried to go for an evening walk. Do you have to sneak outside or something?"
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Bliss listened to Cutlass being worried about being a wrench in their plans, something she wanted to tell him was stupid to worry about. The more the better was always something she thought of, it would give them a better chance in the ring, the more people that they would have, well, the higher chances of survival, well, that was what she thought at least. She felt her eyes dancing between both Cutlass and Dara, wondering how both of them had ended up in the hell hole that they now called their current home. She could see well hidden sadness in both of their eyes, something that made her sad to see. No one really deserved to be unhappy, especially when it was from something that they couldn’t change. She wished she would be able to just get the sadness out of them, out of all of them. She hated seeing other people happy, it just felt weird to her.
She then listened to what he was good at and tried to file the information away in her head, knowing that it would be useful but not really caring. She had already forgotten most of their weapons of choice, something that made her slightly guilty. But, as stupid as she thought of herself for even thinking the thought, her mind wasn’t with fighting. For now she was just happy with meeting new people, she hated having to fight for the right of her life and slightly hated her father for putting her in the situation. Although she had long ago forgiven him, anger still arose every so often when she felt particularly despaired. And lately she had been way to caught up in her fighting and killing was starting to really bother her.
She felt a small pang of sorrow when she heard him mention that he was only property, something that he himself had accepted. It seemed that it was worse, yes, they were too treated like property but it appeared that he couldn’t even keep weapons . . . . She felt anger at the human race once more, wondering why most of them were so ignorant.
She grinned as she saw him smiled although he was soon out of the room and she was left with Dara once more, the others asleep. She turned to him, her eyes landing on the scales on his arm once more, she found him fascinating. Not to mention that so far he seemed to be fine with the fact that she talked way too much, that always proved to make her quite a happy person. He seemed friendly, like all of them there, although a few of them seemed to be a bit reserved, so she automatically liked him.
“So, how long have you been doing . . . this for? I mean . . . this is my fifth year, soon sixth actually. Well from what I hear, I don’t really follow the dates. I don’t know how I’ve managed to survive for so long, it’s actually a borderline miracle. I guess I’m just incredibly lucky . . . well that and well trained. My father was the one who trained me and gave me up to become a gladiator, so I guess my fighting isn’t that bad. But still, I guess others underestimating me was a big help,” She told him, realizing that she had been rambling. She blushed a bit but gave him a smile, hoping that he wouldn’t take her rambling as a desperate attempt to make friends. She hadn’t even realized that she had been rambling. “Sorry for talking . . . I didn’t even realize.” She shrugged, hoping that he wouldn’t feel pressured to tell her his past.
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Cutlass was…civil, to say the least, and gave all the information they needed to hear. Dara was taken aback a little when he emphasized his “distaste” of having a rider; in truth the thought had never crossed his mind to do so. The idea of treating something with such obvious intellect capacity no better than even a pet was simply redundant and coarse to him, he’d no sooner ride the fabled dragon of the arena, only a fool would try it. He was pleased to hear his skill with a bow, having a long ranged fighter would be incredibly useful and perhaps invaluable in the long run.
The draconic man frowned as the “property” as he referred to himself was called outside to lie with the dogs. As he left Dara said as a consolation, though he did not know how much an effect it would have or at all, “We’re all property.” Cutlass however didn’t appear to hear him, and Dara decided not to attempt calling out to him again.
It was true, gladiators by definition were slaves; expendable, replaceable, and cheap. In the grand scheme of things they weren’t so different, other than the fact that Cutlass was born into captivity. Then a thought occurred to him; while people indeed enslaved members of their own race into this nightmarish sport, they at least could win their freedom and attain the rights all other citizens of their race had in this kingdom. But Centaurs had no rights, therefore Cutlass had no chance of earning the opportunities Dara or the others would, he was doomed to remain property for the rest of his natural life or be disposed of when he was no longer an able body. The draconic man had seen into his eyes, if any spark of rebellion existed within Cutlass it was extremely dim to the point it would fizzle out, a broken soul.
For a small moment, vengeful thoughts emerged where he had sought to suppress unless they were useful. Thoughts of the king, whom he had mental picture as a small, fat, and pathetic specimen of a man hiding behind a tradition that demanded obedience from all, hiding behind a privilege that should have been denied at birth as he denied theirs. Oh, how Dara wished for so many sleepless nights that he could simply walk into his bed chambers and spit flaming vengeance upon him, to watch him burn alive, to see his eyes so that he would know that it was a mere slave who performed the deed and not some prestigious general or enemy of his nation. To have the fruits of his labor be counted, and found wanting as the flames would continue to consume him for all eternity in Hell…
His thoughts began to manifest on the surface, as his face grew into a subtle grimace and barred teeth. He immediately realized this however and suppressed those thoughts, regaining a neutral face. If he had continued with those thoughts than Bliss would have interrupted him, asking about how long he had been in this situation, then going on about herself and how she ended up here. Apologizing for her ramblings, it made Dara chuckle lightly, and for the first time that day the stress subsided. “Well I don’t think I’ve been here longer than you have, four to five years maybe? I don’t bother keeping count anymore. Like you my father trained me, I’ve survived by those skills as well as some of my more...unique talents from time to time. Although My father couldn’t prepare me for everything…” the last statement was said to himself and just barely audible.
Regaining his composure he states, “In any case we better get our sleep while we can.” He settled his body down, essentially laying his legs flat on the ground while his upper half contented itself on the wall. As his golden eyes dimmed he finished in a whisper, “Tomorrow’s going to be a long ass day.”
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Anvain gritted her teeth as Sylvani dug her fingers into the elf’s doubly sore shoulder muscles. Anvain was surprised that the healer showed so much hate for the King. Could he really be that terrible? Either way Anvain would not be a prisoner much long, she was determined to escape, but not tonight. Tonight she would rest. It was such a great relief to be clean, wrapped in a soft towel she almost felt safe and happy. Anvain uttered a small gasp, staying with the other gladiators? She was already far from her home and now she would have to sleep surrounded by strangers. Who knows what they are capable of doing.
Before Anvain could protest, Sylvani left the room and spoke to the other healers. It was a small comfort to be allowed to stay with the healers for the night. Anvain found it was terribly tempting to fall asleep with just a towel covering herself. But life in the forest had taught her to always be prepared, so somewhat reluctantly Anvain put her clothes back on and tucked her sword safely back down her shirt. Anvain positioned herself upon the bed to have a clear view of the doorway to prevent a possible unwanted visitor. Her last thought before drifting into an uneasy sleep was I forgot to drain my magic.
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Sylvani couldn’t stop the smile as she kept packing her bag. She knew that it must look strange to see her putting things into a sack and preparing to go outside. “Believe it or not, we’re more like servants than we are like slaves. As long as we don’t betray the trust of the guards, we can go nearly anywhere. I made it clear years ago that I need to go into the forest for my herbs and so they don’t question me. I’ll take you to the market soon so I can prove my point,” she promised, throwing the bag over her shoulder. She shrugged as she walked to the door. “I have a young man to see about his best-friend. He needs me to meet him,” she said over her shoulder. She paused, turned back to look at the healers, watching them seriously. “I’ve grown up here,” she said finally. Not in these barracks but right outside the arena in the small house with the red door. I grew up with the sounds of men dying and crowds cheering. I know the guards, the trainers, the healers. I know how to get what I need and I promise, I’m a *****, but I won’t steer you wrong.” She looked to Pandora, “Please watch Anvain. The poor thing looks like she’ll fall asleep in the tub. I will be back to get you all tomorrow morning,” she said but then left, closing the door behind her.
What Sylvani did that night remained with her, but in the morning when she woke, the sun had barely rose but she knew that she had to get back to the healers and gladiators. It was to the Healers and Anvain that she went to first. She waited for them to eat their breakfast and get dressed, before she walked across the way to the Gladiators. She woke each up that was still sleeping, made sure that they were fed and that Cutlass would follow with the rest of the team, before she brought her entire group to the waiting grounds in the back of the arena.
Her heart hammered in her chest as she tried to keep her voice steady. The arena always brought in mixed, and dangerous, feelings within her. “This is where you’ll be fighting,” she spoke to the Gladiators. “Jacob was meant to bring you here, but he couldn’t. So I am with you in your stead. Stay together, try to figure out how you will be fighting, get to know the Healers. If you want a particular healer to work with you, tell them know,” her eyes flickered to Anvain. “Anvain, I will be your healer as I’ve already overseen part of your healing process,” she said. “Dara, Pandora has seen to you… and I think she would be best matched with you. Bliss, Cutlass, Leilatha, Sean… please use this time to pick your healers,” she asked as best she could. She saw that Cutlass remained with the gladiators, but didn’t move towards a healer. He would be difficult for the Healers to work with, given his state of mind.
“Oh yes,” she pulled out canteens of water, tossing them to each person. “Remember to drink water. Keep yourselves hydrated. You don’t know how long you will be waiting or what you will be fighting,” she said before she inclined her head. “All right, go… do whatever you wish,” she said finally, letting the gladiators and healers be free to do as they wished. “Anvain,” she called one last time before she moved to the woman. “Your shoulder, how is it?” she asked. “Can you move it fully? I was hoping to check it this morning but in the rush, I admit, it eluded me,” she said before she dropped her voice to a whisper. “If you plan on using the sword that I saw last night, make sure it looks like you are taking it from the weapons available. I do not want to see you punished because you broke the rules,” she said but then backed up. She loved it when Gladiators broke the rules and didn’t get caught. She counted it is a silent rebellion against the King.
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It was rather abrupt, this morning. Even through the brief breakfast Dara had to give himself light slaps on the face to keep his eyes open. It was easier to do so once the sun hit his eyes, but it would be a lie to say the harsh light didn’t irritate him. The night brought a dreamless sleep, meaning that to Dara it felt as if time simply skipped ahead, bringing the next day all too quickly for him. Whatever complaint he might have however would have to be put aside for obvious reasons.
As they came upon the coliseum the draconic man had to concede his own opinions for a moment and marvel at its grandeur. He had never laid eyes on the most infamous place in the entire kingdom; it was a far cry from the smaller venues he had fought at these past few years. All the while on their trip hear Dara wondered where Jacob was. It was Sylvani who woke them and led them here; when they had arrived she explained briefly that Mr. Sunshine couldn’t make it, which made Dara ponder what could possibly keep a man like that away.
She also made it a point to get more acquainted with their healers, naming someone Pandora as his. At this he raised a brow and looked to the healers there. One was the half-elf, whom he recalled was named…Kaydrin? Keylin? He had not the attention at the time to embed the name into his brain, regardless it obviously wasn’t Pandora. He noticed the absence of a couple of healers, but rather than questioning thier whereabouts he focused on the only other one in their presence. The woman who tended to him the previous day, from that it was simple to deduce her identity.
Once again he checked the functionality of his arm, as he predicted it was still sore, but largely healed. When Sylvani said that she would be best matched with him he recalled the healer mentioning her knowing of the draconic healing factor, so with that in mind Dara surmised that Sylvani’s statement wasn’t an exaggeration. The Ice-Queen gave them water canteens, which Dara was thankful for, as he helped himself to a few sips he noted that the water wasn’t cool, but he was satisfied nonetheless.
Dara returned his attention to the healer self-assigned to him, and decided to head the advice given to him and get acquainted with her, “Well, I assume you caught my name being Dara from the Ice-Queen just as I caught yours so we can get that part out of the way,” he attempted a half-smile. “By the way, yesterday you seemed to know well enough of my draconic attributes. Out of curiosity just how much do you know about draconians?” He saw no harm in asking that of her, he wanted to see how good of a match for him as a healer she truly was. Not that it mattered that much to him, but it would be nice to know if there was any advantage to gain from this.
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"No" Jacob said to the man in the shadows. "I wont help you or that ******* you call a master." The man raised an eyebrow at Jacob almost as if warning him that he was crossing a line he shouldn't. "My master is a very generous man, and he can make it to where you don't have to work with those disgusting creatures you call gladiators any more. You could live a life of luxury with all the women, wine, and any other comfort you could imagine right at your finger tips." The man said stepping out of the shadowy ally. He was a tall and painfully thin man with hawkish features. He was dressed in luxurious clothing and looked as if he would probably burn every scrap of it when he got back home because of the filth that it had touched being down in the slums. Jacob glared at the man as he spoke waiting patiently for him to finish. "I know who your master is and how wealthy he is, trust me I do. I also know how hard it is for people of his status to accept rejection because they are used to getting everything they want, so let me make this quick and to the point." Jacob cleared his throat and smiled at the man "Go back and tell your master to shove his offer up his silk lined ass and never bother me again." The mans distasteful grimace turned into a full blow look of disgust. "I told the master that dealing with barbarians like you was a waste of time but he never listens when he has his mind set." Jacob turned away from the man and started walking in the opposite direction he had to get to the arena. "Don't worry!" the pompous man called "Since you wont help us we will just find our own way to achieve our goals." That made the trainer stop in mid step and turn around. He walked up to the man who was smiling victoriously and grabbed his lapel hoisting him up into the air giving the man a hard shake. "If you touch ANY of my gladiators or healers then you and your master wont live to reap the rewards of your treachery" Jacob emphasized his point by tossing the man five feet down the alley into a pile of garbage. Once again he turned around and stomped out of the alley way.
ld
Jacob arrived at the arena a few hours later. the team should not have arrived more than a few minuets before him if Sylvani kept to the schedule. Jacob walked into the gladiators waiting area. It wasn't much more than a small walled in area with a few benches in it. There they were, looked like Sylvani did a good job. Jacob walked up to the gladiators rolling his neck. "Ok **** ant, I was held up in a ... business meeting so as you of course noticed I wasn't able to take you to the arena and fill you in. So I will do so now; The first thing you need to know is the fight order The system workes like this, the gladiators that are battling are of course in the arena fighting. The gladiators that would fight next were are in the cage right outing side of the arena floor, and finally the team that will fight after them are kept here in waiting area. So when the team occupying the cage move onto the battle floor you will head right through that door there, he said pointing at a large stone slab of a door, whenever it opens and wait in the cage. The cage is just what it sounds like, a cage. To the left and right of it are other creatures being held to be sent into battle, my advice to you is don't talk to them." Jacob mumbled the next part under his breath "more trouble than its worth". Going back to his normal tone of voice "Also before you enter the cage there will be a few nice gentle man that bring in racks of weapons that you can choose from... that is unless your scheduled fight does allow you the use of weapons. If not then that is why I gave you those chains, They are not considered weapons by the king so use them to prove him wrong. That is all I can think of for now, So do whatever Sylvani told you to and wait for the weapons to come." Jacob paused in his rant to notice that there was a new addition to the team. "Oh what the hell!" He shouted "We have a damn centaur now, when did we get him... you know what never mind,I don't give a damn. You can fight right?" He said addressing the centaur.
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Pandora had been remained in Sylvani's room that night, watching over Anvain until the woman would return. Part of the night she spent concocting specific potions she thought her own gladiator would require, the other getting as restful a sleep as she could while remaining aware of any sounds of pain that may have come from the gladiator she occupied the room with. Upon Sylvani's arrival, the older woman was already up and preparing more generic salves, poultices, and bandages to fill her satchel with. It did not take the three healers and single gladiator to eat a quick meal of porridge, and once finished, were led to an area by which they waited with the other gladiators. The arena loomed overhead, but she refused to even glance at the building before it was necessary to do so. The structure of it was impressive, and it's grandeur could be seen from many miles in the distance. But the suffering that went into building the colossal center as well as the torment that it held did nothing but press a pit deep into her stomach. No, this structure would gain no awe and wonder from her. She double checked her supplies, interspaced with the different healing items was a half loaf of bread and a jar of water. Anything to keep herself, or those around her, going for the entirety of the difficult day she was sure they would face.
She heard her name mentioned and she looked over to Dara, casting a friendly smile toward him, nodding her head in understanding. Her gaze traveled to the other gladiators around them. Who would step forward first to request a healer? She thought of how it must look, how demur the healing group must have looked with only the three of them. Still, she kept her posture straight and did not lower her eyes. She would take any who wished to utilize her talents, even the stubborn ones who may not yet wish to request a healer. They would have to learn to work and trust one another above any outside of their group, and if it did happen too slowly, then that usually meant the team did not last long and she was put to a new team after watching her comrades fall in battle.
As Dara approached her, Pandora gave the man her full attention. “I am quite familiar with those in descent from the grand dragons as well as those dragons themselves,” she assured him, moving to his side. “How is your arm? I would like to re-examine it before you enter into the arena. If there is any strain or pressure, I can alleviate it for a time, help to keep your mind on the task at hand,” she informed him before stopping to answer his question.
“I have healed and am quite familiar with both dragons and their half-blooded offspring. Many years did I work with them each, finding what herbs assisted where others did not, the alternate effects they would have on humans versus dragons, and what poisons dragons were more susceptible to. Depending on the generation of offspring and how much blood is of the draconian descent does affect my decisions in what must be done in terms of healing,” she answered honestly. She felt no need to discuss her personal interaction with such people, knowing it would not be wise to have such a conversation overheard. “Now, if you would allow me to ask a question of you. Exactly how much draconian blood runs through your veins, and what type of dragon do you descend from?” she asked, both questions pertinent in her healing. Jacob had arrived in the next moment and addressed the gladiators, explaining the system of the battling they would be doing. She knew well the sequence of events, finding the cage to be a very trying experience itself, and simply hoped that the people surrounding her would be able to keep their wits about them.
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Dara was nearly astounded by the medical expertise that this woman knew. It seemed like she would have to have spent a great deal of her years with draconians in order to gain the amount knowledge she claimed to have. He did not doubt her, though there was sense she withheld some bit of information, if so than Dara didn’t deem it worth knowing and wouldn’t press on how she acquired her practice. Before he could respond to her Jacob seemed to appear out of nowhere in his usual sun-shiny demeanor, and though Dara could only roll his eyes when he announced himself he paid attention to his statements about the fighting routine. They would now be aware roughly how much time they would have before their own struggles began.
When Jacob turned his attention to their new teammate Dara saw this as his chance to respond to his healer. “My grandmother was a dragonborn, I think I heard once she was from the Vikadi clan or some ****, I dunno I didn’t keep track of that far into my heritage. In any case that makes me only a fourth of their kind, I’m not as durable as my ancestors. Guess that’s why I’m still sore around this area,” The draconic man took his right hand and place the palm under his armpit, he then squeezed gently where the tendons met the muscle bringing a slight wince to his face.
He had deliberately omitted anything concerning his own parents; all of his knowledge on them just brought unwanted memories. Though to be fair, it was only his father he had memories of.
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Servants, rather than slaves. Kelyren felt his spirits lift. He didn't like being a servant, but he guessed that it was better than being a slave. It was probably the gladiators who were slaves. He frowned, wondering what might have happened to him if his gift for healing hadn't been discovered...
"Well, have fun," he said cheerfully to Sylvani as she left. "I'll try not to burn anything down while you're gone."
He chose a room nearby and tried to sleep, but he couldn't. He tossed and turned for a few hours, finding himself drawn to the empty bed opposite him. It felt like he was waiting for someone to return, even though he knew fully that he was not sharing a room with anyone else. It was an eerie feeling, one that was disturbing enough to keep him awake. Eventually he climbed out of bed and paced between the bedroom and the common room, his gaze flickering towards the door every now and then.
Soon enough, it was dawn and he had not slept at all. Kelyren was slumped on a chair, eyes half-open, staring blankly at the door when he heard the first sounds of activity in the hallways outside. Morning already... with a groan, he lurched to his feet, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
He was quiet and kept to himself during breakfast and the walk to the arena, though something did bring him out of his sleepiness-induced stupor... there was a centaur there. Kelyren rubbed his eyes again and stared at Cutlass incredulously, wondering if he was dreaming. He closed his eyes and counted to three, maybe he was sleeping and the centaur was just a figment of his imagination. But when he opened his eyes, the centaur was still there.
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Anvain woke several times that night plagued by nightmares of her imprisonment in the wagon, no sunlight and stale air. She could still feel the walls pushing down upon her. Anvain was glad to have the other healer’s presence; Pandora would smile kindly at the young elf when she woke terror stricken. Before the healer could inquire if she was alright, Anvain told her it was just the new setting and she would adjust in a few days. Clutching the sword tighter to her chest Anvain wished that was the truth. She did not want to lose her mind.
The morning came all too early; Anvain was barely able to remain upright during breakfast. Seeing the other fighters Anvain perked up a bit, if only to seem strong and a capable fighter, reaching the arena Sylvani began to assign healers to the rest of the gladiators. Anvain found herself staring at the half-horse man, never had she seen such a unique creature, as she continued to observe the fighters she noticed Dara seemed to have scales upon his arms. It was so much to take in the arena roof seemed to touch the clouds. After handing everyone canteens of water Sylvani turned to Anvain asking about her shoulder, which put Anvain in a position of either making herself look wimpy to the others or making her left side vulnerable for an attack.
Anvain decided to lie, after all the fight was not life or death. She may gain a few more bruises for having a weak left side, but nothing serious. “Thank you for caring, but I heal rather quickly. It feels excellent today.” She replied smoothly, hoping the healer was too busy preparing the others to notice the lie. Anvain’s eyes widened, again she had forgotten about the sword. She had meant to hide it before leaving the barracks, but now it looked as if she would have to fight with it in her shirt. “I will be careful with it. It’s one of the few things I have from my home. It gives me hope to continue on.” Giving the healer a small smile, grateful Sylvani did not report her having a personal sword.
Suddenly Jacob appeared, addressing everyone in a condescending tone. He explained how the upcoming fight would unfold. The team would pick their weapons, then enter a cage to the side of the arena floor, wait till the previous occupants finish their fight and then Jacob’s team would enter. Anvain suppressed a giggle when the red-faced Jacob caught sight of the centaur, he was not happy about another new gladiator. Anvain wasn’t even sure how Cutlass could protect his rear, it seemed awfully far away. She surmised he might strike out with his back hooves if an enemy attacked from that direction.
When Anvain returned her attention to Sylvani, she knew the lie had been immediately caught by the sharp-minded healer. To avoid a confrontation, Anvain weaved in between the milling gladiators until she found herself next to a female elf of fierce complexion, flame red hair cut short. A flicker of compassion seemed to flash through Leilatha’s eyes for the younger elf, though they were but a few years apart it was apparent Leilatha had far more fighting experience than Anvain. Feeling slightly better in the company of another elf, Anvain prepared herself for the fight ahead, from the sound there seemed to be a great crowd filling the arena seats.
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Cutlass was lead through with the rest of the team and stood a little bit away from them. He listened as the Ice-Queen spoke to them, but most of her words seemed to be directed at those that could one day regain freedom, those that had worth to her. His worth was measured by how well he fought. He looked away from the group, towards where the pastures where. That was his freedom. Fenced in, green grass… freedom. He cleared his throat when Jacob came in before he shrugged. “I guess we’ll both find out today,” he said to the man before he turned he moved, finding it too difficult to literally turn his back on him but the meaning was there. Kiss his horse ass.
He arched his brow when he saw that one of the healers looked at him in disbelief. He shifted and stretched his left front leg out, tucked the right underneath him and bowed in a way that only equines could. “Half-horse, half-man,” he said before he straightened and walked up to the man, staying out of arm’s reach out of habit. “I don’t bite,” he said, and to prove his point he flashed a grin that showed that all of his teeth were flat, no canines to speak of. “Horse,” he said with a nod.
The impatient centaur was eager to get into the cage. For life, or death, it didn’t matter but he was abound with nervous energy and for once: “I won’t be racing around a track to get off my steam,” he said finally. He was quite pleased with how it worked out. “Race around, tire some out, kill some, try not to be killed… things could be worse,” he said, his voice infused with false chipper. He saw that the two gladiator elves were already pairing up, saw that the one scaled man was talking with the pretty older healer, he didn’t see the young woman that had spoken to him the night before…
He felt a hand touch his side and he immediately shied to the left as he heard the crowd roar in approval from inside.
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Anvain had lied to her. There was something the wrong with her shoulder but before the healer could press her, she was weaving off through the crowd. She watched her with a steely gaze but she could do nothing. If she drew attention to it, than any fighter worth their salt would press that weakness and turn it to their advantage. She shook her head. Let her keep her sword. Let her keep anything that will keep her strong. “Anvain,” she called out, trying to pitch her quiet voice loud enough for the female to hear. “Next time,” she cautioned, “I expect honesty,” she said but then turned her back on the other. Pandora was speaking to Dara, that respite was out she realized.
She had laid her hand on the Centaur’s side without thinking about what she was doing. She felt him move and jerked away, afraid that he would kick. “Ah, I have never been good with horses,” she murred as she closed and opened her fist, trying to remember that the centaur was not one that was something that she could draw energy from. Animals normally permitted her such a thing, liminal creatures tended to distrust her, as they had every right to be.
Sylvani looked and saw Pandora speaking with Dara. She inclined her head slightly. That would be a good pairing as Pandora’s advanced knowledge of herbs would help with Dara after he was done fighting. She saw that her other healer was staring at Cutlass in disbelief and she slapped the mount’s flank, sending him towards the man. “Go make friends,” she ordered him coldly. “You’re part of my team, you go integrate yourself,” she ordered.
She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear as she breathed out. She clasped her hands in front of her stomach and closed her eyes. She forced herself to make the emotion disappear behind a wall of ice. She had long since gotten good at that. Her eyes opened and she blinked in the harsh light. Everyone seemed to be conversing. Anvain was being taken care of by the other elf, and that means I don’t have to hover like a mother hen. None of these gladiators are my children, she reminded herself.
The bluster on Jacob’s face didn’t escape her, and she moved towards the man, coming up on his right and cleared her throat so that she made sure that he knew that she was there. She wasn’t about to surprise any man, least of all a man that trained others in how to use a sword. “Jacob,” she spoke, her voice still quiet. “Are you all right?” she questioned, not trying to push any of the carefully set boundaries that they had long set between them. “You never miss bringing the gladiators down to a fight, especially not their first fight,” she breathed out. Her eyes drifting over her rag-tag group of healers and fighters. “They will do fine,” she affirmed with a determined nod of her head. “Nothing pisses the king off more than a team that doesn’t lose at least one member.” She patted his shoulder, “maybe this time we can royally **** him off and the gladiators will surprise us by staying alive,” she murred before her hand fell from his shoulder. She was awkward at comforting.
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Bliss stood in the arena, scrapping her fingernails against the padding of her opposite hand. She was feeling nervous today, which was slightly weird. She has slept rather . . . well, blissfully last night, something that had been a nice change to her skittish sleeping habits. She assumed it had to do something with being surrounded by others. It was oddly comforting to know that she was stuck for others for now, something she hoped would last for a while. And looking at the others . . . it probably would. She couldn’t imagine any of them getting hurt before her, in fact, looking at them, she realized that she was probably the most weak out of all of them. Everyone just seemed to look more capable then her, something that was okay with her. As long as they would fight as a huge team and looked out for each other’s backs they would manage to be just fine. And besides, she had a feeling that there was going to be a huge crowd today, well, the cheering people was also a huge hint. She felt slight disgust listening to their taunts, knowing that they were excited for one of them to die.
She peeked around and listened to the girl who had presented herself as the ice ***** yesterday and she felt her mind reel. Why was the girl always so stoic? Bliss was sure something had to have happened for her to be able to just seem to not care about everything. She wanted to feel bad for the girl but she had a strong feeling that she would just end up hating her pity instead. She added her to the list of people she wanted to figure out here. If Bliss was going to be here for a while, she thought it would be to her advantage to just to get to know people. She liked having friends, she had had a few over the course of her life. Yes, most of them did end up dead but they were always nice to have. Although a feeling in the pit of her stomach, something that she had learnt to know as instinct and to act upon it, which Bliss learnt aided her well in her fighting, told her that she would be with these people for a while. The thought made her smile, a good consistency was something she aimed for in her life. And if this proved to be it . . . well, she would take advantage of it.
She listened as she spoke, they needed to find themselves a healer and Bliss felt herself blush, she was no good at picking people. It always made her feel slightly weird to know that she would have to pick one person above the others, she disliked it. She just scanned the others, not able to really decide who she wanted. They all looked like perfectly adept healers and she would trust all of them with her healing. Although she did wonder how a lot of them ended up here, some maybe were under the low income they got if they were high enough and maybe some were just prisoners. Bliss had yet to really understand the system. It was still just a huge mystery to her, much like everything else that she had encountered so far. She didn’t even think it was worth thinking over.
“I’ll have whoever wants me, although they might have to heed warning, they’ll be patching me up a lot,” She grinned at her joke, taking the easy way out. She didn’t want to pick so she just left the suggestion out for someone to grab. If no one did, she assumed that if she were injured enough they would heal her. So that really didn’t phase her much. She assumed she was going to be just fine. So instead her attention got diverted to Jacob and she smiled at his chain comment. She wasn’t sure if it was just her hopeful thinking but she was more than positive that Jacob was trying to be friendly with them. She pushed away her earlier thoughts of the main and she immediately starting to like him. There was something about him that she hadn’t seen before but he seemed like a strong man that would stand up for what he believed in, something the world severely lacked.
She derailed the train of thoughts that suddenly seemed to be concocting in her mind, it was never good to think too much into things, it was the type of action that seemed to bring on rebellions. And that was never good on the opposing side, it always seemed like the bad guy was always winning, an incredibly depressing thought for her. She peeked down at her chains and shackled them to both her wrists, hoping she wouldn’t have to use them. She wanted to be able to use the weapons that Jacob had mentioned, it would probably make her one of the happiest people alive to just be able to hold a dagger again. It had been way too long.
Bliss cracked her knuckles, listening to the reassure pops of her joints. It seemed to soothe her from the fight she knew was about to happen. She wasn’t in the mood to murder today, not after being in such a great mood. She knew it was totally ruin her happiness for a bit and she didn’t like that concept. She almost caught herself about to pout and thought better of it, knowing that acting like such a child around the other gladiators was never an extremely good thing.
She felt her eyes glance to Dara and she smiled, feeling somewhat connected with him. Both of their fathers had trained them for this, although she didn’t know the reasons for his father she knew for hers it was out of spite. It made her relax knowing that he had the same problem and she wanted to know how he thought about his father, if Dara was angry with him or sad or whatever else. She was curious to know what she technically should be feeling but she had long ago come to terms with what he had done to her. There was nothing she really could have done about it.
She sighed and looked around, noticing Cutlass and saw that he himself held no chains. She frowned, remembering his statement and felt a small once of sorrow for him, she couldn’t imagine being treated worse than they already were but Cutlass apparently was. She smiled at him, hoping that he would catch her eyes. Bliss looked back around, suddenly just wanting to get the fight over with. It was putting her nerves on end and making the fine hair on the back of her neck stand. “So, when’s this fight gonna start? Or are we just waiting for the opponents to drop dead of old age?” She attempted the joke, trying to life her own nerves. It didn’t work though and she felt her bottom lip prod out an inch. She was pouting, of course. Nothing impressed tough gladiators more than a girl who pouted, nothing. And of course, the numerous people standing in the crowds waiting for bloodshed. She was positive the pout impressed them too.
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Jacob raised an eyebrow at the centaurs as he walked away. Oh we have a feisty one, this will be fun he thought sarcastically. He was to tired to really be pissed of right now and he had a hang over from last night to boot, but he had an image to keep up so he watched all the gladiators looking pissed off all the while. He always got drunk the night before the first fight, it was his own personal good luck ritual to help the gladiators survive. It sounded stupid but he was one of the best trainers in the kingdom so there had to be something to his methods. Sylvani walked up behind him asking if he was ok, and reassuring him about the gladiators . Jacob looked up at the sky for a second, thinking about what to tell her, squinting at the glare the sun gave off. He looked at her and grinned they "We can only hope right, and if we **** off the king well... that is always a bonus. What I live for you know, helping as many gladiators make it out alive as I can, or at least helping them live longer than the king would like. Its like a small victory whenever the gladiators make it out alive." he said this all keeping his voice low not wanting the gladiators to hear that he had a nice side. He would die with them thinking he was an ass hole if possible, the gladiators not liking him gave them all something in common which helped the team grow together. " As for me" he said continuing on with his voice at a normal level "I've got one hell of a hangover from last night. Gotta keep the old luck tradition going you know. I suppose you wouldn't have anything to help with it would you?" He lowered his voice one more time "As for me not taking the gladiators to the fight well, there was an urgent business meeting with a powerful man. I will give you all the details once the gladiators are fighting but for now just be careful of any strangers watching you too closely."
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Pandora listened as Dara spoke to her of his lineage. All the while, she was reaching into her stachel for a cream that she had made last night in case he had not fully healed. “Lift your arm,” she said, not a request but gently enough to try and not get any resistance from him. Scooping a healthy amount of the cream into her hand, she peeled back any clothing or bandaging that may have been obstructing the bare skin and rubbed the salve into the area he had pointed out, as well as the surrounding area. Her own hand cooling under the healing properties of her concotion. The tendons and muscles would grow cool as well for approximately five minutes before warming those same muscles and tendons. She placed another bandage over the area to keep the ointment from spreading over his arm.
“I never knew any of the Vikadi clan. Though I do have a vague idea of who they are. After the fight, when we have more time, I would like to know any specialties you may possess. Anything that you inherent from your ancestors. Being one fourth, they would be more sparce, but still pertainent,” she explained, wiping her hand on her skirt. “One of the traits would be your accelerated healing, to human standards. I will need a list, but after your fight. Right now, I need you to concentrate on your fight.” She pulled out a larger bottle and rag, keeping them out in her hand. “This is oil. It will make it difficult for you opponent to strike at you. I can apply it upon you when you enter the cage. Anything to give you an advantage in the ring.”
She had seen too many warriors cut down by man and beast alike that any advantage she could possibly see for her gladiator, she would give him. This would be her first time watching him fight in the ring, any of them, and she would not take her eyes from the carnage for a moment, intent on knowing his strengths and weaknesses so that she could properly protect him. She noticed Keylan's tired expression and pursed her lips, but said nothing. She would speak to him later on how sleep was quite necessary to the healer, for their jobs drained them more often than not, needing a sharp eye and quick movements to save their gladiators. Still, she noticed his awe at the centaur but made no move toward the beast. He did not step forward to claim a healer, and so he would be one of the last to be attended to.
At the call from a female warrior, Pandora turned her attention to her. She didn't immediately raise her voice to her, waiting to see if another will claim her. However, they would be starting soon, and it would be best to get the arrangements done later than now. "I shall take you in my charge, if no other calls out to you," she said with a smile and a nod. She did not know anything about the woman, but she did well under pressure and would be hard pressed to let a newly acquired gladiator die in her presence.
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Having gone to bed earlier than most of the others, he missed the fact that they had a new team member as well as Dara and Bliss' conversation, but on the bright side, he slept like a baby and was very well rested for the battle ahead. Living in a culture that values war and fighting has that perk of steeling your nerves the night before a battle. When he awoke he saw the others were already up and that there was a new face... though the face wasn't exactly what caught his attention. Sean made use of his normal subtly to ask "What that? man-horse or horse-man" but was explained that the creature was a centaur... though Sean didn't see how his names were wrong... He thought they described it quite well.
The woman that had healed him earlier led them to the coliseum, a large construction built only to house death and destruction. It seemed a great idea to Sean, as those were his main interests, and to find them all in one convenient location was the epitome of joy. He would have to bring this idea back to his people whenever he was freed from his chains... though he did wonder why he was called a barbarian when these soft people had such a construct in their city.
Jacob came not long after they arrived, though He said a bunch of things that didn't involve fighting, and so Sean tuned him out, instead looking about at the others, noticing that they seemed nervous about the fight.
"No worry! Sean kill everything!" He said triumphantly, slamming his fist into his chest as if to emphasize his words. Though he was quite confident that he could kill anything that was set before him in the arena, he'd already seen plenty of things in this place he'd never seen before, which he'd never had to kill before. Part of him hoped whatever was waiting for them in the arena was at least part beast... He doubted there wasn't anything stronger than a bear that the metal men could capture... so long as it wasn't a dragon, Sean was confident in his ability to kill it.
"When kill time start? Sean want kill now" Sean said, crossing his arms as he looked about, unsure why they were waiting when there were things to be killed in the arena.
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Dara complied to Pandora’s order, which little less than a suggestion. She applied a type of cream to him, giving his skin a cooling sensation that indeed relieved much of the soreness he was feeling, although he estimated it would be a while before it would feel anything like prior to yesterday’s event. For a small moment the draconic man let his eyes close, letting sensation take full effect as he relaxed. When Pandora had finished they snapped back into reality, almost as if there was no trace of a relaxed mind left.
Before he could thank her she asked for him to explain any other things he inherited from his ancestors after their fight (under the assumption he lived of course). After which she handed some sort of oil, claiming it would give him and advantage in battle. So far she had not done anything to suggest incompetence so he did not question it. “Thank you,” he started. And before he could continue Bliss made it known for any healer that she was available, to which Pandora kindly offered her services in case no other took her. At this Dara commented, “Well I certainly don’t mind sharing, and though I may be partial I’d say I have the best healer here,” he flashed a smile at his healing watcher, grateful for expertise and assistance. She seemed to be rather gracious considering she gave him something to give him and edge.
His expression became neutral again when he also said, “About the specialties though, besides briefly breathing fire and scales on my arms I can’t really think of anything else I’ve inherited, so that would have been a rather short conversation.” It was then that Sean, whom Dara had wondered when he would make a boisterous proclamation did so, apparently not understanding the system Jacob had gone through the trouble of explaining. Dara blamed this on the language barrier, and promptly told the barbarian in his native tongue the proceedings in which the battles would follow. He expected the man to make a resounding frown out of disappointment as soon as he finished explaining.
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Jacob raised an eyebrow at Sean proclamation but didn't say any thing. Suddenly the door to the waiting area flew open and four men carrying two racks of weapons came in and set the racks down. The doors promptly locking behind them after they entered to ensure the gladiators dont try to escape. On one rack was a collection of short swords all of a fairly bad condition. on the second rack was a collection of daggers and dirks. These were the weapons the gladiators could choose from to use. Not long after the racks were set down a great rumbling could be heard as the giant stone slab that served as the door for the cage slid open. It seems the time to fight was near.
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Waiting for a fight was the worst time for the Ice-Queen. She would rather have the gladiators in the fight so she would know that soon she could go in and heal them. That was all she wanted. She wanted them out of the ring with Kelyren and Pandora healing, and she walking around and making sure that her men, and women, were healed properly. Of course, none of it showed on her face as she regarded Pandora speaking to Dara, glad that they had some common ground. She saw Anvain with the other Elf. Kelyren staring at the centaur, and Bliss trying her best to calm her nerves as Cutlass stayed off to her right. It seemed like she and Pandora would be dividing the gladiators, with Kelyren helping where they needed him. She tried to think through the ones she could remember. She knew their faces, she just hoped that she hadn't forgotten a name.
Anvain. The elf that seemed to desire company as much as she kept her secrets closer to her chest than she kept her sword. Sylvani would oversee her healing.
Dara. With his draconian heritage, the extent of which she wasn’t sure that they had truly seen yet. Pandora had said that she’d be able to help him.
Cutlass. After the mistake of treating him like a horse, she doubted that he would let her get near him. She’d talk to Pandora about taking the Centaur on as well.
Bliss. As much as she wanted Pandora to take on the female who seemed to have the sort of personality that made everyone wish to talk to her… she knew that it wasn’t fair to pile everyone onto the woman. She would take Bliss.
Leilitha. The other female-elf, who seemed like all hope had fled from her eyes. If she could survive her first few fights, Sylvani hoped that she would become strong enough to handle the arena. It felt like both she and Pandora would have to work with her.
Sean… a small smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. “Soon,” she promised him before she gathered up the white fabric in her hands, raising it so that she wouldn’t step on the hem of her dress and walked over to Jacob. Sean seemed to be the one that was foolhardy enough to take on the world by himself. That meant that she, Pandora, and Kelyren would be working overtime to keep him alive.
She moved to Jacob’s right, her left was vulnerable and he was one of the few that knew the reason why. She laughed, a rare sound but often pulled from her when they spoke of displeasing the king. A dark pleasure blazed behind her silver eyes; it was the desire to thwart the King at every turn, come hell or high water. With blood spilled in the arena, and death becoming her way of life, the white-clad woman found pleasure in the masochistic satisfaction of angering the King. She dug through her bag, found the herbs that she would need, already crushed, and added them to the canteen that hung at her side. She handed it over to him. “It tastes horrible,” she said sweetly, “but none of my medication tastes good,” she said to him. Alrun had become addicted to the pain-reducing tea, Annihilita because the taste was naturally sweet and wild. While she still had the herb in her bag, she only used it to sped the death of a gladiator who was suffering.
“Strangers watching me closely?” she repeated. She didn’t look around. It would be suicide for someone to attack her now, not with the number of gladiators and guards. “I hope that you mean that they want to kill me,” she said pleasantly as she looked over the Gladiators. “I’d hate to think that they still have it in their minds that I am someone worth bedding,” she murred. Jacob moved away from her and started to do his job, she knew that he would return and their conversation would continue. It was hard for the two of them to share information without people thinking that they were more dangerous together than they would be if they were separated. She frowned as she walked back to the healers, lightly touching Kelyren’s arm and then Pandora’s. Jacob knew far too much truths about her. It came with the territory of his age, and her proximity to the ring for her entire life. Still, there were things that he didn’t know about, that she had kept hidden and would fight to keep hidden. “Please, say your final words to the gladiators and then meet me back with Jacob. We do not go into the cages with the gladiators. We wait till the fight is over and only then are we permitted into the ring. I will explain more as the fight starts,” she explained to them.
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It was obvious by the look on Dara's face that the salve had worked to ease his pain, though the expression did not remain long. He was a gladiator and it did no good to let anyone who may be watching know of where his weak point may be. She kept her concentration on her gladiator, doing a second once over to be sure there were no other rooms for concern that she may have missed. When he took the oil, she smiled and pressed a rag to him as well. “Do not use your hands to spread it. It would do no good for you to lose your grip on your weapon or your enemy after all. And remember, a little goes a long way,” she added, wanting to be sure he fully understood the benefits and potential dangers of using the oil. She smiled at the compliment her gave her and let out a small laugh, shaking her head at him. She was quite skilled at herbalism, but she had no magic to wield. Still,
“You can thank me by coming out alive,” she answered, but patted the side of his arm comfortingly. “Come out breathing, and I'll make sure you stay that way,” she promised him softly, not wanting to see another of her gladiators perishing in the ring before she even had the ability to go to them. She moved back from him and gave Dara a reassuring nod, allowing him to select his weapon as he deemed fit. She thought of his ability to breathe fire and her potential ways of alleviating the pain and damage that may cause. While the gladiators chose their weapons, she rummage through until she found a vial of sea salt and nodded, setting it aside if it would be needed. She felt that even being a quarter draconian, Dara had more strengths that his blood granted, deeming that he may not have fully grown into them yet. She would wait and watch.
At Sylvani's touch, the older woman turned to her and listened carefully, nodding her understanding. She turned to look at those assembled and cleared her throat. “Fight hard and do not lose heart. We shall be watching from above, seeing the injuries that will need healing. Hide them from your enemies, but when we come to you, openly reveal to us where your pain and damage is. No gladiator will go without healing,” she promised before bowing to the gladiators surrounding her, giving them her respect and confidence before backing away to stand with Sylvani. She stood straight beside the other woman, waiting patiently for them to move to their viewing area and to hear more of Sylvani's explanation. Not all of the gladiators had chosen healers, and so she left it up to her to decide which of the gladiators she would be paying fuller attention to during the fight. She tied her bandanna over her hair, fully prepared for the job she would be required to do.
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Kelyren found himself staring cross-eyed at the centaur for a moment before he blinked and allowed his vision to refocus on Cutlass.
"Oh," he said stupidly. "Sorry. Didn't mean to offend."
He wasn't too sure why he had apologized. He was too tired to think clearly. It was probably a good thing that he was in a sleep-deprived stupor, though. The scene was painfully familiar - standing with the gladiators before they were thrown into the fighting pit, not knowing if they would live or die, mentally preparing himself to deal with the aftermath of the day's fights. Thankfully, he was too tired to feel the heavy sense of dread that usually crept over him at times like these.
He jerked slightly when Sylvani brushed his arm, his eyes popping open. "Gah! I'm awake! I'm awake!" he blurted out, before he could stop himself. The realization of where he was and what was about to happen hit him, and he quickly shut his mouth, feeling quite foolish.
“Please, say your final words to the gladiators and then meet me back with Jacob."
Kelyren rubbed his eyes, pondering Sylvani's instructions and thinking of something to say to the gladiators. He never knew what to say to men and women who were about to face their death. Would they appreciate a joke, or was he expected to be serious? Did the gladiators want encouragement, or did they want a pat on the shoulder and words of comfort? Decisions, decisions.
"Well, uh..." Kelyren began with a tired grin. He tucked his hands into his pockets and glanced around at the gladiators. "Good luck in there. Don't die."
He fell silent, unable to think of anything witty or inspirational to say, and shuffled over to where the other healers were.
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Leilatha had long since gotten used to sleeping in strange places, so she had no trouble getting an excellent night’s sleep. When the sun rose the next morning, everyone was hurried through breakfast and taken to the Grand Coliseum. It was to be their first real fight in front of a crowd. Leilatha could feel her body preparing itself for the trial ahead, her heart race quickening and her muscles tightening. She was very much in her element today.
Taking a look around the small waiting area, Leilatha’s confidence in her fellow gladiators was assured. The centaur was strong and most surely nimble. Bliss had a determined look and she had fought well against the goblins. Dara was speaking with Pandora, he certainly had a very unique skill. Breathing fire and his scale covered arms seemed to give him a second layer of armor. Sean gave Leilatha a bit of concern, she had promised to pair up with him, to watch his back and work together. However if he tried his previous charging strategy, she would not follow him. It would take time and tests before Leilatha would fully trust Sean.
Jacob burst into the waiting area and explained how the combat system worked. Leilatha was very glad they would get to chose weapons this time, using the chain against the goblins had nearly gotten her killed. Killing should only happen with swords or anything sharp, long and pointy as far as Leilatha was concerned.
Quite suddenly a person appeared to Leilatha’s right. Another elf? Strangely Leilatha felt a bit comforted by knowing a fellow elf would be fighting in the arena with her, but Leilatha’s opinion changed the moment she looked into the other’s eyes. They were too innocent and trusting for her to be a seasoned gladiator. In fact Leilatha was sure the elf had never killed another in combat. What is Jacob thinking? She could jeopardize the rest of the teams safety.
Unable to look at the doomed elf, Leilatha strode over to the weapon’s table. She quickly found a suitable sword, it was not in the best condition, but it was all they were offered. Leilatha decided to grab another sword and two daggers just in case she lost her first blade. Putting the second sword in her belt and a dagger down each boot, she then went to stand next to Sean in the cage. Placing a hand on the barbarian’s shoulder she told him, “I shall watch your back, if you do the same for me.”
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When the table of weapons was brought out, Anvain felt a moment of panic. In the forest spars had always been fought with swords or some type of blade. Luckily there were several blades available; none were of the quality of Anvain’s. She had made the correct decision in keeping her sword hidden. The cold shoulder Leilatha gave her by walking away was a bit of a surprise; Anvain had thought the two of them would become friends considering they were both elves.
But Anvain needed to pick her weapon now and proceed to the cage, hastily grabbing a lighter sword; she stepped into the cage and kept her distance from Leilatha. It was very terrifying to be in such a small space with metal surrounding her, no sky, no trees. Anvain closed her eyes and hoped the cage would open soon or she might begin screaming.
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Bliss shot Pandora a smile, thankful for her wise words. She didn’t think that many of the healers realized just how useful their words were to them, well, to Bliss at least. It helped give her the confidence that she so desperately needed, something that helped boost her fighting. She laughed at Kelyren’s word, glad that his joke helped take off the edge that she was feeling. At his words though, she felt her first rush of adrenaline flow through her veins, making her aware of practically everything. She clenched her fists in hopeful victory and licked her lips, trying to moisten them with the lack of saliva. She had already drank the water that Sylvani had been so kind to give them.
Bliss walked over to the weaponry that they had been so kindly given. She frowned at her thoughts, knowing that she was now thinking of others as kind after giving them some weapons after they had taken away their freedom. But she didn’t think much of it except walk with that slight hop in her walk, trying to look as cheery as possible, not that it was hard. It was her own small rebellion, showing that the king, as hard as he may try, he had yet to steal happiness from her. In fact, he never would, it wasn’t his to take. She wanted to prove to herself that he wasn’t all powerful, they would always have their own happiness, courage and hope and that would never die.
She smirked at the thoughts in her head, pumped up for the fight. She grabbed two daggers, weighing them in her hand. She grinned and sighed a happy smile, she had missed their weight in her hands. She finally felt right again, knowing that these daggers would help her out more than those chains ever could. She slipped another one in the side of her boot, leaving her with three daggers. As far as she was concerned, this fight would probably be an easy one.
A sane part of her mind told her to grab a shitty sword but she refused. She knew that the daggers would put her at a disadvantage for fighting but she knew her aim was fairly good enough and the daggers that they had been offered would put her in her zone. Besides, it was always a little bit more fun when she was reckless, it made the fighting a lot more amusing.
She sauntered into the cage, making a huge show of it. Crowds were watching now and Bliss took that to consideration, knowing that even the king himself might be there. She grinned and gave a small curtsy to the crowd, listening to their cheers. They were getting excited for the fight to start and she felt her lip curl into a nasty snarl into she replaced it with another smile, hoping that no one had seen it. She looked at the other gladiators, knowing that a few others where still picking out their weapon and she cracked her knuckles, giving them a confident smirk.
“So, we’re gonna kick ass again today? I mean, we are the best in the kingdom.” She told them with a cocky wink, letting them all know that she was only kidding. “But seriously, we’re gonna do fine guys. Good luck and try to work together.” She grinned, twirling the two daggers in each of her hands, making them dance over her finger tops as she had longed to do for such a long time.
Yes, this would be easy for her.
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When the draconic man saw the guards brining in the weapon racks he quickly hid the oil from their sight, lest they discover it and decide he didn’t need it. Pandora had been more than helpful, and in a way he imagined a mother might treat her children…that is if her children were grown people killing other people for the sake entertainment; thinking of it in those terms nearly brought a frown upon the man but he withheld it. Instead he returned the nod Pandora gestured to him.
Everyone seemed to be saying their condolences, trying their best to stave of their fears and get them invigorated, in Sean’s case that would be no amazing feat. Dara approached the rack that displayed the short swords. He claimed the hilts of two in each hand, weighing them and inspecting the steel. They were cheap pitiful excuses for swords, made for quantity instead of quality, and they were obviously worn from previous wielders. Nonetheless they were the only weapons he could use properly, though he was far more proficient with long swords, the same basic principles should still apply. He tested those principles by doing a few light strokes with the weapons, in the end he was still unsatisfied but accepted them.
Once inside the cage he took notice of Bliss’s attempt at bolstering their spirits. Dara attempted to grin, though his vocal response was, “I wish I could be as enthusiastic, but I highly doubt this will be an easy one. From what I heard the crowd favors veterans over new blood, and love nothing more than to see slaughtered fresh meat, in which case prepare for anything.” Thinking better of it, that probably wasn’t the best thing to say, so he amended, “Sorry that’s generic advice, like you said lets just kick some ass.” Now there was a true grin on his face and though it didn’t last forever it was at least a little better than being so morbid all the time, despite how their lives were and what they were expected to do soon.
During the wait, Dara slid into a corner and began applying the oil give to him. Most of it went on his unprotected forearms as they were the most prime target for an opponent to grab. The remainder was applied to his face though there wasn’t much left, so whatever oil was there didn’t show itself in an obvious way. He felt he should again thank Pandora for this gift, but of course she had already made it clear on he could to so.
Dara then gathered his thoughts, One day, one day soon I’ll be free. Just a few more battles and we can go home dad, I swear it.
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How exactly do they think that this is a good idea? Cutlass found himself asking as the gladiators spoke to one another. He heard the healer apologize to him and shrugged it off as he walked forward and waited for the rest of the gladiators to take their weapons. Not a bow to be found in the pile. His luck was nonexistent. He sighed as he had to make sure that he stepped back so he could see through the pile. He had to make sure that he was compensating for his blind-spots, which people never seemed to realize that he had. His eyesight was a bit more like a horse’s sight than it was a human’s and he couldn’t look down and see the ground in front of him, or his own knees and chest. Whatever fight he was going into, he was stuck going full tilt, facing the enemy. He was a dangerous addition to the group. Whereas his eyesight was better than a human’s in the dark, it still took him some time to adjust from darkness to light and was easily spooked. His biggest blindspot was also something he had learned to live with. Directly behind him would cause him to kick out. Yet, his strength came from his ability to catch even the most subtle movement and adapt accordingly. His speed, as he was bred to be of racing stock, enabled him to outmaneuver many of his enemies, and his hooves were sharp enough to hurt if he struck out with them.
He just knew that he wasn’t going to be at an advantage in this fight.
He gathered up dual swords. Daggers were worthless. Best fit for slitting one’s throat not for attacking an enemy. Throwing a dagger was equally pointless for a dagger would rotate while thrown and could miss the targeted enemy, possibly hit a teammate but otherwise would leave the person with one less weapon. Swords, even ****-poor swords with poor balance and a dulling edge, was better in his opinion. He spun the swords, made sure that they would fit his hands and not tire him out. He could guard with two swords quite easily, lunge and attack and keep his opponent on the defensive as much as he could.
Cutlass saw the others in the cage and moved into it as well. With some careful maneuvering he was able to place himself in the back and as out of the way as possible. Now, it was just waiting for Sean so that the fight could start.
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Jacob leanded up against a wall as he watched the gladiators pick their weapons. He put a hand on Sylvanis shoulder as he walked by "Cross your fingers" he said before heading towards the cage. He stepped into the cage and looked around soaking in the old memories for a second. He breathed in the musty earthy smell of the cage, listened to the crowd cheer for the poor souls that were out there fighting for their lives. Jacob looked at the gladiators in the cage "You have your weapons, use them well.... your suppoused to be the best of the best show me that now and gain some of my respect." He turned around and started walking out of the cage "Dont die on me, youll make me look bad" he said as he left the gladiators and went to join Sylvani. He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation "I said what I could.... The damn dragon should help them out the rest of the way he owes me that much"
Finally gathered into the cage, the small cramped area that just reeked of anticipation, nervousness, fear, was finally closed off from the world as the stone slab behind them shut with the sounds of heavy scraping and a loud thud of finality. This was it, the moments before battle, the place where you could hear the screams and cries of those in the pit before you. It could bolster your burning fires to fight, or fuel the fear that rages inside your veins. The smell of blood, sweat and oddly enough sulfur and smoke was thick in the air as the roars of the crowd rushed in through the slats of the iron gate that separated the gladiator’s cage from the arena. They called for blood loudly and the screams of the fighters they called to could be heard even above the mighty roars of those gathered, and the mighty roars of the beast they were against.
The monster’s ferocious roar shook the very foundation of the arena as it began to seek out its prey. The sight from the cage was distorted by the heavy iron bars, only flashes of a large, brown scaly beast could be seen until soon it was concealed by smoke that it poured from its mouth in a tactic to hide itself from the sharp weapons the opposing gladiators brought against it. The black, inky smoke roiled forth until it covered the entirety of the battle arena. “Ah, my eyes they burn!” “Where is it?!” “It’s right behind you move!” Screams were heard as a bright orange light shined through the darkness and half the crowd cheered the beast’s victory while the other half booed at the loss of their bets. This continued until the last gladiator fell to the creature as it vaulted him up into the crowd with his tail with a sickening crunch sound from the man’s bones breaking. The fight was over now and the crowd was still hungry for more. The beast was being ushered back towards our gladiators and the stone slab in front of the cage next to the iron gate blocking our heroes own cell was rolled back as the monster thumped loudly in, the black smoke following it in like its shadow.
Sounds of chains could be heard clinking around while the guards cursed the monster as they shackled it blindly in the smoke. A grunt came from the beast and a man laughed, a joke at the beast’s expense no doubt. Now the men moved away after spitting towards the creature and the slab moved back into place, locking the creature back into darkness, the only light in its cell was the few slats of sunlight that spilled onto its sides from the slats in the gladiator’s iron gate. The only sounds now were its loud, labored breaths as it tried to bring itself down from the high of fighting. It seemed the beast was not interested in them, until a hot breath rolled over the group, signaling it had turned its head to look in their direction, the smell of sulfur mixed with the moist breath.
The smoke was beginning to clear now and the first truly visible thing that was to be seen of the monster was bright amber eyes as it peered at them silently. A rumbling sound emitted from the beast, growling? No, the more one listened it sounded more like it was a giant purr. The group was suddenly pushed forward at once by the beast’s large tail that it had snaked out through the bars in its cell while it had been watching them. It seemed to want a closer look. “Pleasure to meet you all. I’m Gambrill and what are your names?” The seeming monster said in a pleasant, albeit deep and growling voice. The corners of his lips turned upward in a bit in a toothy sort of smile as he continued to look over them and then began using his tail to run over them one by one.
Now, Gambrill was used to being locked away all of his life so any sort of interaction he could get, he’d milk every minute out of it and that included invading anyone’s personal space. The tip of his large tail ran up and down Dara’s arm, gently feeling the scales as he made a curious hum in his throat. “Interesting.” He growled quietly then moved on to Sean whom he poked and prodded roughly then chuckled deeply, a sound that caused a vibration to move through everyone’s chest. “You’re quite a large human aren’t you?” With that said he eyed Cutlass and very slowly lifted the tip of his tail to touch his cheek. “I haven’t seen one of you in a long time, especially in a place like this. Good luck to you my friend.” Now moving onto the women of the group he was even more gentle in his touches. He began running the tip of his tail over Bliss’ head and over Anvain’s arms; up and down Leilatha’s back in an almost comforting gesture. “I see more women here these days. I don’t doubt your abilities in the ring, it just means the crowd’s bloodlust begins to grow insatiable and our king grows more cruel. Good luck my dears.”
Now that his investigations of the new group was done, the gladiators had time to take in the monster himself who was in fact a dragon, a very large dragon at that. In the cell his full height wasn’t known as the chains he was forced to wear had him prone in a half crouch, half laying position constantly but his sheer mass was enough to impress. The chains in question were shackled around each leg and one around his throat. Links of chain lined his back evenly; a metal ring was driven into the bone of each wing on opposite ends of these chains which kept his wings flush against his body. The rings wouldn’t be enough to keep him from flight if the chains were broken but the constant tautness of the chain was uncomfortable enough to keep Gambrill from fighting against the restraints.
In the arena, the sounds of stones and shuffling could be heard as they prepared the grounds for the next fight but Gambrill seemed to ignore the hustle outside as his attention was taken away from the group momentarily and he seemed to look about for something he’d lost. “Hm, I wonder where my little friend is.”
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She exhaled slowly. Her hands fisted in her dress. Her knuckles were turning white as she watched as the gladiators walked into the cage. She couldn’t speak to them. There were no glorious last words from the Ice-Queen to the men and women that were going in to fight and possibly die for the entertainment of a sadistic King. A couple of the Gladiators walked into the cage bravely. A few showed their trepidation, and Cutlass walked in last. “Silly thing,” she whispered, “he should have been the first in the cage, he takes up so much room.” Not for the first time, she wondered how badly her Gladiators were going to be injured. She wondered if Pandora was going to have enough potions and herbs to deal with the injuries. She hoped that Kelyren was going to be able to handle the wounds that could fester and infect. So many worries swam through her mind that all she could do was retreat behind a carefully crafted defense of ice and cold. Her face, expressionless. Her eyes, hard. Her hands relaxed on the gown and fell to her sides. Nothing was different about her. They were not her gladiators. They were men and women off to fight. Some would survive. Some wouldn’t. It was nearly too hot for the Ice-Queen to continue her defense but she turned away from the cage, her attention focusing on Jacob. “If they survive, I will buy you a beer. The good kind,” she told him. “You’ll get a Royal Hangover,” she said to him.
Sylvani looked towards the healers. She had little to say to them as the roar of the dragon was heard. She wanted to cover her ears. The reverberating sound seemed to reach into the depth of her soul and tear apart everything she had been taught to survive. Still, she stood strong. When the roar subsided, and the screams stopped, she was able to finally speak to the healers. Before she could speak, a guard came and touched her arm. She cast him a withering look and did not answer him as he first spoke to her. Only when he stepped away from her, his hand falling from her arm, did she listen to him.
“By order, you need to tend to the dragon. The arena healer is busy at the moment and you are the one chosen,” he said to her. He didn’t permit her to answer, argue, or agree. He turned around and walked off stiffly.
Sylvani resisted the urge to press her fingers to her temples, she finally spoke to the healers: “When the gladiators move into the ring, I want you to come with me. That roar? That is your first patient. If you would rather go stand in the stands and watch the bloodshed,” her eyes lingered on Kelyren for a moment before she looked at Pandora, “you are free to do so. I have always found that the Gladiators will live or die without my moral support. Despite what you may have heard, my arrogance has not reached so high that I would consider myself a Goddess. Just Queen will do,” she said. Her tone was light, and while she still seemed detached, there was an air of self-deprecating humor in her tone. “Jacob,” she called to him, “Do you want to come in and see Gambrill?” she asked him gently, She knew that he may not want to go in and see the heavily chained creature but to her, the dragon was her friend, the same as Jacob. The same as the healers and the gladiators would become her friends. Perhaps. If the King didn’t kill them all.
She led them inside through the side gate, through what felt like a tunnel, but was probably only a hallway and slipped through the bars that were wide enough for a slender woman and smaller to fit through. It seemed like she had done it before. She looked around. She thought the arena was bad, but this cage was more than cruel. It was torture. It was criminal. It was heartbreaking. For a moment, sorrow set on the young Aubade’s woman’s face as she waited for the dragon to finish speaking to the gladiators. She looked around, seeing that the dragon had carved a peephole that would permit a healer to stare out and see the fight. She saw the blue sky from the hole and wished that it would rain. She much preferred rain, though it was much more dangerous in a fight.
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Cutlass didn’t want to shift. He had to fight the instinct to lash out as he felt people at his back. His worse blindspot and he had to fight down the instinct to just.. kick. He figured if he kicked Sean, the barbarian wouldn’t feel it. Dara would probably never speak to him again, neither would Bliss, or the female-elves. One whom he hadn’t met yet. He was about to try and introduce himself when he heard the roar. He shied, his hooves tapping against the hard ground as he tried to move. That was the sound of a predator, a very large predator and while his human mind knew that he was locked within a cage and not in the ring, he was not able to fight down the instinct to try and run. But where would he run to? There was no where that he could get to and he would not be painted yellow just because there was a loud noise. His tail flicked and hit against his side as his coat bunched and shifted, as if trying to cast of flies that were landing on him. It was a nervous habit that he couldn’t control. “I am sorry,” he said when the noise finally faded.
The dragon’s tail came out and passed over Dara, the one that seemed to treat him as something that was at least equal to humans. Cutlass found that he didn’t mind that person’s company too badly. Then Sean, the large barbarian, aptly said and then…he had to fight instinct again as the Dragon’s tail passed over his cheek. “You are sung of in our myths,” he said, his voice deep and rough. “My family would be pleased to know that your kind still exists. I would say that you give us hope but…I think you would eat us,” he said bluntly. “I am Cutlass,” he said in relief as the dragon passed over him.
From behind the Dragon’s hind-leg came a small, red cloaked figure. The figure moved down the dragon’s leg without fear before it sat close to it. “Gambrill~” a laughing voice rang out from underneath the cloak, mispronouncing the name slightly. It wasn’t the deep, rich voice of a man, or the pleasant trill of a woman. It was the voice of a child. A small child, still learning words. To this child, the world of cages, death and fighting was his life. The dragon, his friend. A growl sounded from the gladiators left as a black dog stepped from the shadows and passed through the space between the iron-bars, curled up next to the boy and eyed the dragon in warning.
Cutlass blinked and looked from the dragon, to the child. “We’re going to be fed to the dragon. If that thing is what the dragon normally eats,it has to be starving,” he said finally. He sighed. “There goes the delusions of grandeur, gold and green grass. Hello Dragon stomach.”
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They say first impressions are important…and what an impression was made here. The draconic man, with nothing else to do decided to witness the current bout, but as soon as he did a confusion settled on him. There was smoke spreading everywhere and none of the combatants could be seen in it. They could be heard though, along with the bellows and trembling roars of a mighty beast. In that moment Dara feared that whatever caused the blood curdling wails of the combatants would be their adversary when the time came.
Then it approached him and his comrades with the blackness still veiling it from their sight, Dara had half the instinct to unsheathe his weapon at that very moment, but reserved himself from doing so. The reason was not clear even to him; perhaps it was a most morbid curiosity that beat out his better judgment. A strong yet familiar smell of sulfur entered his lungs, and though it was distasteful Dara wagered that his comrades would be compelled to plug their noses. The smoke he prepared for by taking shallower breathes, a practice he was also moderately accustomed to. It was not however as if he showed no discomfort during this, if you could see his face that fact would be plainly visible as it squinted into a form resembling someone whom had just tasted something bitter.
Dara could hear very large chunks of iron clashing together, gargantuan iron bonds he surmised, he should have known that even such a powerful creature was a slave like the rest of them; even so this thought did nothing to ease him. When the smoke dissipated it revealed the creature that he suspected it would be, the anticipation of the fact again doing nothing to put any ease on him. It then regarded them with a strange curiosity as it introduced itself (yes it could in fact speak despite the predictable preconceived notions) as Gambrill, and Dara was assured then that this was the great dragon of the coliseum.
Gambrill then did something both odd and what Dara found to be rather invasive. He kept…touching them with his tail almost in an affectionate manner, and when he was…feeling up Dara he couldn’t help give a dirty look as he obviously didn’t take kindly to the invasive gesture, despite the obvious implications of irritating a powerful being would bring. The initial intimidation was wearing off as it was more abundantly clear that this was more of a being of deliberation rather than of a feral nature, but regardless the draconic man remained wary of the true dragon’s intentions. Gathering his courage Dara answered Gambrill’s request for their names, all the while trying to pick up any sort of intent from his reactions, “Darastrix Dastudr, but you may just call me Dara, and not to be ‘rude’ but next time you introduce yourself to someone you may want to lay off the…touching thing.”
Cutlass on the other hand was thoroughly convinced the dragon was amongst them for a feeding, Dara briefly turned to him with an almost amused face and said, “He’s not going to eat us, not in here at least, in the arena maybe but not here, if that puts any ease to your mind.” Dara doubted it would, it didn’t to him. “Am I right?” the draconic descendent asked the true dragon.
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As screams and shouts began to fill the arena, Anvain realized she could no longer fool herself into thinking the fight ahead of them was simply a display of skill. Here it would be for blood, all thoughts of escape quickly fled her mind. She would die far from her home fighting whoever the King wanted. Anvain suddenly shoved her hand in her mouth, biting down hard; she attempted to stifle the building scream that threatened to escape.
Luckily at that moment, a long scaly tail wrapped around the gladiators and pulled them closer to the side of the cage. Focusing her eyes in the darkness Anvain was shocked beyond words. It was a giant lizard! The ones she had seen in the forest were barely to her knees; this one was huge and frightening. If Anvain had not been badly dehydrated she would have piddled right there. She shook like a leaf when the tail ran over her shoulder; there was nowhere to run, so they were trapped with this monster. Realizing the giant lizard had asked her name, she hoarsely replied “I’m Anvain.” Just loud enough for the other gladiators to hear it as well.
Immediately replacing her hand back between her jaws, she began rocking back and forth. This was the worst moment of her life. Once the gates opened she would have to kill or be killed.
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The smell of sweat, blood and dirt was familiar to Leilatha. It had become her life, something she accepted, she was a dealer of death playing in a game with no real winners. Leilatha was standing in the back of the cage, unable to see what was happening in the ring, but by listening to the roar of the crowd it must be very exciting and bloody. Which would only make her groups fight much harder, they would need to match the energy and savagery of the previous fight. Or risk the wrath of the fans.
When the noxious smell of sulfur reached Leilatha’s nose, she immediately plugged it. There seemed to be a cloud of it roiling into an adjacent cage. Wonderful! It could only be the famous Coliseum’s dragon that could make that much smoke. Leilatha sent a quick prayer that they would not be fighting it today, or ever. Shockingly the dragon snaked its tail through the bars and wrapped it around everyone, the centaur seemed the most bothered by the intrusion, which made Leilatha move quickly away as she had been standing near his rear.
The dragon touched everyone with his tail in turn, when he reached her, it was apparent he was simply trying to provide comfort even offering an astute observation about the increase of females in the arena. “I am called Leilatha and you are correct, it has changed the crowd. To see women die regularly has only made the King more sadistic. It seems that adding unsuitable fighters into the ring is his current passion.” At the last comment her eyes drifted to Anvain. Who had taken to biting her hand, a sure sign of madness. Leilatha was almost tempted to put the younger elf out of her misery, but perhaps Anvain would come in handy as a living shield or at least slow an enemy. Not very honorable, but that move had saved Leilatha on several occasions.
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Here comes the worst part. The waiting. How long will the gladiators have to spend down there, I wonder... and will there be anything left to fix once they're done?
Kelyren sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He was sleepy and wanted nothing more than to find a nice comfortable place to curl up for a nap, and forget about the upcoming fights. To make matters worse, he would have to heal the gladiators afterwards, and he wasn't sure if he was awake enough to do his job properly.
A roar cut through the air, shattering the fog of sleepiness that was clouding his mind. He snapped to attention, his ears ringing painfully. The sound seemed to echo through his ears, reverbrating inside his head and knocking his thoughts around until.
"What the hell?!" he exclaimed, glaring around at the other healers and Jacob, as if one of them was responsible for the ear-splitting roar. A sinking feeling nagged at him, and he guessed that the source of the roar was going to be the gladiators' first adversary. He hoped that it was all bark and no bite.
"That roar? That is your first patient."
Sylvani's explanation made him want to groan in frustration. Their "first patient" sounded like a very feisty, disagreeable individual, possibly a violent one as well. Something Kelyren figured he'd be better off staying away from, so he went up to the stands to watch the next fight.
He found a place to sit and rested his chin in his hands, waiting for the fight to begin. He felt alone and somewhat vulnerable, and wondered if Pandora was going to join him.
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Jacob smiled at Sylvani's offer and winced as her comment reminded him of his current hangover "Well now they really have to win to help keep me thoroughly smashed. I would hate to go through town completely sober" he half jokingly as he took the medication she gave him for his current hangover. He flinched as the bitter taste washed into his mouth making his eyes water. When he recovered from the medication Sylvani was asking him if he wanted to join her in meeting Gambril. Seems she had to fix him up after his latest slaughter. Jacob grimaced at the thought of Gambrill. He didn't like the dragon and the way it took pleasure in messing with him, but he also in some ways considered it a friend, at the very least despite what he thought of the dragon it was one of the few good souls in this damnable city. "Sure" He said "I need to hear what he said to the gladiators anyways". He followed her through and the small side gate and down the hall to the bars. He raised an eyebrow as she slipped through the bars. "Well sadly enough I don't believe my womanly physique can make it through the bars so I'll be back in a minuet so I can get the damn key to the cage.
Jacob walked back out and looked around finding the guard. "Hey soilder you forgot to give my healer the key to that damn dragons cell" Jacob said gruffly holding his hand out. The guard raised an eyebrow at Jacob "What that skinny ice ***** couldn't slip through those bars?"
"Just give me the damn Key." Jacob said glaring at the man
"Fine, fine" said the guard as he found the cage key on the ring.
Jacob snatched the key up and marched away returning to the cage and unlocking the door and walking in standing next to Sylvani. The dragon had what would be called a luxurious cage by arena standards. By luxurious it was large very much so. Since he was one of the major attractions of the arena and had been so for many years they had given him the biggest cage they could find. The dragon itself was at the far side of the cage assuredly talking to the gladiators. Jacob could make out Gambrills large form in the little light that was given and couldn't see the gladiators for Gambrills bulk in the way.
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"There He is" Gideon said as he noted the healer sitting in the stands. Gideon was an attractive looking man with a shock of blond hair and an athletic frame.He tried to remember the mans name and it came to him Kelyren thats right... he would be the perfect choice. Gideon adjusted his suave clothes and sat down next to the healer. "Hello friend" he said as he looked over the arena floor and watched some mages casting spells over the floor "So tell me... would you be interested in making alot of money in a short amount of time? It wouldn't take much effort on your part" He said with a cheery smile. He figured the healer would take the offer, or at least be interested. He had made his offer to hundreds of healers and he usually succeeded 3 out of 4 times
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The strong smell of sulphur entered Bliss’s nostrils and a small frown fell upon her face. She disliked the sudden smell and she was also quite confused, why would there be sulphur? She knew the king wasn’t sadistic and mad enough yet to light the gladiators on fire and watch them burn, it just didn’t seem like his style. The jaunting cheers from the crowd also made her head ring and she felt her false bravado as she stood in the darkness of the cage, the strong smell still flowing down pharynx with each breath she inhaled. She had learnt to breath by her nose long ago, breathing by her mouth just proved to make her even more thirsty for water she wasn’t likely to get. Standing there she could feel the ever present creeping of dehydration and malnutrition upon her but she never quite got there. They took care of the gladiators, just to the bare minimum. It was all about surviving, not being comfortable.
A small yelp came from her mouth when she saw a tail pulled her forward and a blush immediately crept onto her features. She had let herself look weak in front of the others; she clutched at the daggers in her hand, trying to let them calm her nerves. She wasn’t exactly sure what was happening but it had to be slightly interesting and somewhat safe. The audience wasn’t able to see them so Bliss knew with a certainty that there were all still safe. Although the logic couldn’t help the fear that crept up her spine, chilling the blood in her veins and making her fall into a cold sweat. She wiped the back of her wrist on her pants in hopes to get rid of the sweat forming there.
She jumped once more when it started to talk to them and it’s tail touched each of them. So, apparently it was a good guy and Bliss grinned immediately. They were in need for allies and she thought that the dragon would prove to be a fantastic one. The tail felt nice on her skin and she did find herself leaning into the touch, not that she would admit it to the others. The dragon that she had feared only moments before seemed like someone she would be able to trust along with her teammates and that made her all the more happier. “Thank you for the luck Gambrill, I appreciate it. The name’s Bliss by the way,” She told him, giving him a blissful smile to prove her words. “Weird name for a gladiator, but still. I like it quite a lot.” She told him, much like she told everyone else, she adored the fact that her name suited her so.
She listened as Cutlass fretted about being eaten by the dragon only to have Dara supress his fears and Bliss smiled, stretching out to get the kinks she had yet to get out of her body this morning. She was even starting to find the smell not as bad as she has before from her now pleasant outlook on the matters. “I agree with Dara Cutlass, I think we’re fine. In fact, I think we have reason to trust you, don’t we Gambrill?” She said out loud, clamping her mouth shut before any other words came from it. She spoke too much with no filter, something she wanted to hit herself for. She was going to go on on how she assumed that he was feeling the anger towards the king too and he would probably be an important ally if things ever happened. But she couldn’t, it was too risky. So instead she just sat there in the silence she felt like she had created and waited for the gates to open so everyone could just forget what she said.
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Pandora stood beside Sylvani patiently, knowing that there was no need to rush to the arena while the gladiators remained in their cage. She watched with a saddened expression as each of the gladiators was marched within and hide from sight. She prayed silently first to the Goddess Amara to grant the brave souls the wear-with-all to survive and then to the God Kreios to grant them strength to overcome their adversaries. Men would die this day, many men. She simply prayed that it was not the men and women she was set to watch over. The older woman bowed her head in a special prayer to Torbulis, a god her husband had explained to her, to watch over the young man with the draconian lineage and deliver him to her with few injuries. She too worried over whether her supplies would be enough should the group become injured beyond the ability of the healers present. Still, there was nothing more she could do about this now.
A great noise rose above them and Pandora merely closed her eyes, allowing the roar to envelope her senses and reverberate within her body. It was the cry of a noble being, the likes of which she had been intimately familiar with for most of her years. Images swam over her vision, a great silver beast soaring over head, the feel of the air as it swirled about her dress while the being landed, the embrace she received once the transformation was complete. As the sound subsided, the woman opened her eyes and remembered where it was she stood, the memory fading back to the recesses of her mind to return only in her dreams. At the approach of the guards, a defiant stiffness ran through Pandora, causing her to stand straighter and wait as they addressed the head healer. She would show no weakness, betray not her thoughts to these men. She overheard the order, but waited as Sylvani did for the guard to leave their company.
At the chance to meet with and assist in healing the dragon of the arena, a new life seemed to come over Pandora. She had certainly heard tale of the creature, but had never been granted permission to be within his company. She had hopes that the great beast would be older, would perhaps know the wilds that once housed many of his kind. Lifting her skirts in one hand, she gave a nod to Sylvani before looking to Kelyren who seemed to show a bit of trepidation about going to see the beast. She tried to smile comfortingly to him, nodding as he decided to sit in the arena to watch the fighting. “I fear for his inexperience,” she spoke quietly, following Sylvani as she led the way to the dragon's den, which truly was merely the a separate cage than that of the other gladiators. The smell of sulfur caused her to wrinkle her nose, never enjoying such a smell. The first thing she saw once her eyes had adjusted were the chains binding the creature within the tight enclosure. Her heart broke, knowing that freedom was the only way for a dragon to live, that the chains would only lead to a shorter life.
Once Jacob returned with the key, she entered inside and stood beside him and Sylvani, trying to see clearly in the dim light of the cage. She too noticed the hole and praised the weather, allowing for surer footing to those fighting within. Still her gaze continued to travel to the dragon, trying to make out features that would denote age and particular breed. She assumed from the sulfur that he could breathe fire, and it certainly was a male dragon. She glanced at the gladiators but said nothing more to them, her peace having been made prior to their fight. She simply gave them an encouraging nod before going back to the task of wondering what it was that caused the mighty dragon discomfort and pain, not seeing any wounds from her standing point. A child bounded around the dragon and she nearly had a small heart attack, so surprised she was by his appearance. Who was he? Why did the dragon keep him around? Was he kin? She could only wait and watch the young boy as he giggled and moved around the beast as one would with an old friend.
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Settling down as comfortably as he could in his tight chains, he listened closely to their names as they each answered. Smiling at Dara, he chuckled a bit at his request to hold back on the touching. “I apologize my friend, I’m afraid when one is locked away from kind faces for as long as I have been they tend to grasp onto as much civil socialization as they can. Forgive me, I’ll remember in the future to restrain myself when it comes to you brother.” Flashing a toothy smile towards the draconic gladiator, hoping the gesture made up for his breech of etiquette with the man, he then listened to the women give their names and nodded to each of them in turn. He couldn’t help the grin that turned up his scaly face at Bliss’ upbeat attitude but most of his attention was drawn to the thin Anvain, he sorely worried the girl wouldn’t make it past the first fight. “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. Bliss, Anvain and Leilatha, good luck to all of you in your future of the arena and if there is anything I can ever do for you don’t be afraid to ask. Of course it has to be a task that can be accomplished within the realms of my chains and cage.” Chuckling once more, his great tail swished back and forth lazily as he contentedly now watched the flighty Cutlass introduce himself. He was honestly impressed that the Centaur hadn’t bolted at the very sight of him let alone when his tail reached up to lay a touch. “Ah, Cutlass, an honor to meet you my friend and yes my kind do still exist at least, I know I still exist but I cannot profess to know how many more dragons fly the skies these days. I fear very few. I promise though, if I were free I would not eat you, I would only eat animals that were not capable of speaking back to me. Cross my heart!” Smiling at his use of the human term, his smile only grew as he heard the small voice of a child near his back leg. Turning his head as much as he could with the chain about his throat constricting his movements, he spied the young boy and grinned, curling his tail about the boy and the dog protectively before rumbling contentedly. “Erryn, you’re late my young friend. How have you been today?” He asked as soft as he was able in his growling voice as the tip of his tail passed smoothly over the young child’s cheek. His attention was torn away from his friend only by the comments of Cutlass and the others who were debating whether or not this was his lunch and Gambrill couldn’t help but laugh loudly at that. “My food?! No! This here is my closest friend! Isn’t that right my boy?! Why, I wouldn’t hurt him if my life depended on it and Brute here wouldn’t allow it either would you boy?” His laugh died down into a chuckle as he listened to the others and nodded at Dara’s words. “No, I won’t harm you in here.” Odd though, he only specified that in here they were safe from him but not out in the arena. A sad look passed through his eyes only momentarily before he looked to Bliss and grinned. “I happen to think I am quite trustworthy. I want to do everything in my power to assure that every single one of you survive your trials here. Yes, you can trust me.”
The sounds of stones scraping against one another was even louder now as the lay out for the arena was nearing completion. A loud bellow from the grounds caused Gambrill to look out towards the pit, silent for a moment, before looking back to the group and randomly began speaking. “I’m not sure any of your ideas on the subject but I find that when attacking predator or prey animals, the back of the leg is an excellent target. If the creature is swifter than you are then a well-placed hit there can quickly bring it down to your speed. If the beast is more massive than you then this strike can cause it to collapse, bring it down to your level for a fatal attack. Of course, that’s only my thought on it.” He stared at them for a few moments, hoping they thought more into what he was saying and didn’t automatically write it off as the ramblings of a senile old lizard. The iron gate was now lifting, it was time. As the gladiators were ushered forward, Gambrill hushed his voice as he hurriedly whispered to them. “Remember! Always lead with your left and guard with your right!”
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The iron gate locking the gladiators in slowly grated up shining the bright light of day into the gladiators cage. As the gladiators stepped out of the cage into the roar of the crowd an unusual sight was there for them to behold. To the left and right of them were tall stone walls almost ten feet in height and straight ahead there was a left and a right turn. Suddenly in the sky a large image appeared of the gladiators standing there. There was a faint swirl in the picture then a small plump man wearing large purple robes appeared. "Citizens one and all!" the image spoke in a booming voice that could be heard even through the racket the crowd was making "As you can see we are going to do something a bit different for this match. Today you get the pleasure of seeing the gladiators fighting in a special match. The idea for which was given to us by none other than our glorious king Blackwell!" The crowd applauded for a minuet before the plump man held a hand up for silence "Todays match shall be a labyrinth match as dubbed by our king! For your pleasure these brave gladiators shall fight tooth and nail through this deadly maze filled with traps of all sorts." Another cheer from the crowd "Now for the choosing of the opponent we shall let our glorious king who has graced us with his presence today choose what manner of vicious beast will be brought out!" The crowd went silent and after a few seconds the image switched to the face of a handsome man with short cropped hair, piercing grey eyes and a dark brooding face. The image gave a charming smile and spoke "My loyal subjects, as told to you by the arena master I have personally designed this maze to ensure that we all enjoy this fight to our utmost ability, and of course I have also personally picked out the monster to inhabit my maze. They are creatures from myths and legends that has terrified man for years. They are the guardians of my dear friend king Minos's own personal labyrinth, and are rumored to have never let anyone escape." Blackwell let the tension build in the air before announcing "So for todays fight you will see the minotaur fight against our valiant gladiators! BUT" he interrupted the crowds cheer "There will be not one but three of these deadly creatures searching for our gladiators!" The crowd burst into a great roar of excitement. Their king never let them down when it came to a good show. The king waited for the crowd to calm a bit before continuing "The fight shall be viewed via the magic image my personal mages have given us that allows us to view the action up close. so now" With a devilish grin and a weird gleam in his eye Blackwell announced "LET THE FIGHT BEGIN!".
There was a loud grating as the monster cage was opened and then the sound of a bulls cry that was loud enough for the gladiators to hear. The gladiators had their choice of going left or right and travel deeper into the tunnel heading torwards the center of the maze to a large open area where they can fight the minotaurs easily.
This is DISPLAY of RP. To display the good quality RPing to the newbies like you. And brag about the skills :tongue.gif:.
It may be a display of a rp but it shows the quality of rpers in a different PLACE not here. If they want to brag about their skills they can brag about it else where so that it doesn't make a huge post like this. IT may amaze some people that they could do this but in enough time i could write a story longer then their rp with the same quality. Also i am not going to say that i am a god at rping. I only came here around 4 months ago so yes i still am technicaly a noob to fourm rping. What you are saying is that you know better then i do in rping, but that doesn't matter since no one is better then the other.
It may be a display of a rp but it shows the quality of rpers in a different PLACE not here. If they want to brag about their skills they can brag about it else where so that it doesn't make a huge post like this. IT may amaze some people that they could do this but in enough time i could write a story longer then their rp with the same quality. Also i am not going to say that i am a god at rping. I only came here around 4 months ago so yes i still am technicaly a noob to fourm rping. What you are saying is that you know better then i do in rping, but that doesn't matter since no one is better then the other.
((Please, capitalise "I". That makes me feel about people unserious, along with pony avatars and stupid names.))
Ya know, the people here don't even roleplay. They just play.
"i cmoe out of the cave and see krukes and i wave to him"
"krukes notices imo and waves to him too. he says "hello""
The posts aren't longer than a paragraph. As far as I know, RPing itself requires the participants to actually write like they write a book. They describe feelings, thoughts, motivations, not just say that he stabs the guy and runs away.
((Please, capitalise "I". That makes me feel about people unserious, along with pony avatars and stupid names.))
Ya know, the people here don't even roleplay. They just play.
"i cmoe out of the cave and see krukes and i wave to him"
"krukes notices imo and waves to him too. he says "hello""
The posts aren't longer than a paragraph. As far as I know, RPing itself requires the participants to actually write like they write a book. They describe feelings, thoughts, motivations, not just say that he stabs the guy and runs away.
((Please, capitalise "I". That makes me feel about people unserious, along with pony avatars and stupid names.))
Ya know, the people here don't even roleplay. They just play.
"i cmoe out of the cave and see krukes and i wave to him"
"krukes notices imo and waves to him too. he says "hello""
The posts aren't longer than a paragraph. As far as I know, RPing itself requires the participants to actually write like they write a book. They describe feelings, thoughts, motivations, not just say that he stabs the guy and runs away.
Indeed it does I agree with you on that matter for if you do not have the disciptive abilitys to describe what happens in a rp, then there is little chance that it can survive very long. You must be dedicated an serious to rp for if not then what was the point of joining and coming to the fourm rp. So I choose 1+ to you.
Indeed it does I agree with you on that matter for if you do not have the disciptive abilitys to describe what happens in a rp, then there is little chance that it can survive very long. You must be dedicated an serious to rp for if not then what was the point of joining and coming to the fourm rp. So I choose 1+ to you.
This is obviously not a rp. This is a story. So you have posted this crap in a fourm rp area with a story. I would suggest you move it.
Reading it, does it feel like a linear story path to you? You can easily tell by how the perspective jumps around often recounting events that just happened, this would make for something of a confusing read. The individual posts are clearly marked so that one may read in chunks as it was intended. And no, it truely doesn't fit anywhere besides here, on these forums. There is no rule against displaying a past RP for entertainment purposes.
The first reply is exactly why we'll never have an RP like this to actually RP on. People don't appreciate, or even acknowledge good RPing when they see it. I think this is great, and it's worth a read if you want to improve your RPing.
Kelyren was suddenly aware that he was not alone. He looked up at the well-dressed man who had joined him in the stands, trying to recall if he knew this person or not - he couldn't.
"Good morning," he said politely, with a friendly smile. Could this person be trusted? He dimly remembered something or other about healers being in danger of bribes or attacks or some nasty fate... It was a pity he couldn't recall exactly what he had been warned about, but he knew enough to be wary around strangers, especially strangers who offered him deals that sounded too good to be true. Making a lot of money with little effort on his part? Yep, too good to be true. There had to be some sort of catch to this that the man was not telling him.
Nope, Kelyren decided. Can't trust him. I don't even know his name and I've never seen him before. Why would he approach some healer kid and offer him something like this?
The prospect of a lot of money was tempting, though. There was a lot he could do with money. He could buy favors from others. He could bribe guards. He could possibly even buy his freedom and be released from servitude...
Or this could be a trap and he could wind up imprisoned or dead.
"I dunno," Kelyren responded to the man's offer. "Not sure what I'd do with it. Everything I need is already provided." His tone became sarcastic, and he twisted his friendly smile into a bitter smirk. "Unless money can bring back someone who's been dead for a few months, I don't think I need any. Thanks for the offer, though."
A vague memory of his sister floated into his mind as he spoke. It hurt to remember her, like a dull ache that no herbs or magic could heal. However, it was likely that the man would accept his reason, and leave him alone... or so he hoped.
Kelyren turned his attention back to the arena floor, making it clear that he was declining the offer.
Sylvani heard the carefully crafted riddle that the dragon poised to the gladiators. Her soft hand petted over his neck, recalling all of the riddles that she had heard over the years and all the time that she spent trying to figure them out. Only a few times had see been able to figure out what Gambrill had been trying to say to the gladiators. She kept petting over its neck. Her eyes were hard and angry as Kelyren once again decided that he was going to stand outside and watch the ring. “I wonder if he has any healing skills at all,” she muttered to Pandora. She was going to give him more than a few angry words if she didn’t calm herself down soon. “I am already tired of him. I ask you two to pick gladiators to concentrate on and he hems and haws. I mention that there is someone that needs the help of a healer and he stands out on the bloody ring to watch the fight. He is a waste of my time. Maybe if I am lucky, the king will decide that the prat will be sent into the ring,” she said. True, heated anger laced her voice as she kept petting over Gambrill. She trusted her sense of touch more than her sight when it came to the dragon. In the limited light that she had, she wanted to make sure that she didn’t miss anything.
She breathed out slowly and forced a calm back to the forefront. “Gambrill,” she called to him, her hands still wandering. “If you could direct me to any ills that you have. Muscle aches, gorges, wing-rub, even hunger pains…” she said, continually petting her hands over him. She stood on her tiptoes and pet as high as she could.
She heard the laughter of the child and she kept petting over the dragon. “Erryn, please mind Gambrill’s tail. Don’t step all over him, remember your manners,” she said to him as the child came and pressed his face into her skirt. She reached down with one hand, pushed the cloak off of his head and petted over his dark brown hair. She didn’t need to look down to know that as her fingers ran through his hair, it would hit against some of the spots that were along his hairline. “In my pouch is a sandwich, you can have it.”
Erryn looked up at his mother before he squirmed and reached into the pouch. He bypassed the vials and the herbs and his hand located the carefully wrapped sandwich before he pulled it out. He unwrapped it. Bit into one half of it before he walked away from his mom and to Gambrill’s front. He held up the other half of the sandwich to the dragon. “Here,” he murred. “Food. Is good. Momma made it,” he explained.
Sylvani laughed slightly. “I didn’t make it, don’t worry Gambrill,” she said before she directed Pandora over to her. She saw as Erryn stared up at the woman before he went back to paying attention to Gambrill, holding up the sandwich to the dragon.
“Pandora?” she called to the woman, “if you’d come over here, I think I found a nodule that could use some of the herbs and I’d like to see how yours work,” she said. “I want you to watch Kelyren, closely. I don’t trust him. He refuses to utilize his skills to heal. He is lazy and I would rather see him fighting in the ring and having some worth than ignoring everything around him,” she said, massaging the wing-joint. She exhaled slowly before she shook her head; there was something else that she was trying to say before Pandora asked her. “The boy, he’s mine,” she said finally. She wanted to nip any questions in the bud. “Jacob knows, a friend of mine knows and the only people that know otherwise is Gambrill,” she patted the dragon fondly, “the others were just members of my team, and since they are dead, they aren’t about to tell anyone,” she said with a heavy sigh. “This new team, if they survive, will meet him. I won’t have a choice. I can’t keep hiding him in the forest or making poor Gambrill babysit,” she explained to the woman. “There’s not much that I can do to hide him. I’m not good at glamour magic and the spots that he has on the hairline and other areas say everything as to who is father is. He has my eye-color but his magic hasn’t affiliated itself yet…” she said. “His name is Erryn, and I want Kelyren kept away from him. If he doesn’t want to be part of the team, I don’t want him near my child. For all I know, Kelyren would sell him to the king before I could blink,” she said.
“What do you think about it, Gambrill? am I being too harsh?” she asked, waiting for Jacob to come into the cage before she’d ask him the same question. “I just…don’t know what to do with him,” she said, resting her head against the dragon’s side. She heard the roar of the crowd, the carry of the king’s voice and cold fire caused a strong spike in her magic, before she was calm again and able to resume petting over Gambrill, watching Pandora.
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Though he was suspicious at of Gambrill at first, it continued to treat them with civility, and when he explained how social interactions were a rarity for him the draconic man then regarded him differently. The dragon, like them was a gladiator, forced to live a life that could drive anyone mad. Gambrill made a great smile at him, and he could sense no hint of deception from the intelligent beast, though one could argue that expressions were harder to read from a non-humanoid. The dragon insisted that he would not harm the small child attending to him, calling him his closest friend. Curious; how could a mere child come to know him, unless somehow introduced by an adult?
Then Gambrill began bizarrely talking about predators and prey, and from the tone of voice he seemed to be insinuating something. Could this have any relation to their bout? Before Dara could ask he and his comrades were ushered out into the arena, and all at once the crowed roared at their presence, not that it meant anything in support for his team, they would do that for anyone. Now Dara didn’t know quite what to expect, he had his own ideas of course but none of them came close to this.
A labyrinth, of all the convoluted, sadistic, infuriating…Dara cooled himself down a bit he needed to survey his surroundings and try to find anything they could use to their advantage. Overhead was an image of the arena master addressing the crowd, playing to them to rally excitement, which was no large feat by any means. Dara took special attention when he mentioned traps earning yet another frown from him, he thought, This can’t possibly get any wor- **** I jinxed it.
And sure enough, the bad news only got worse, heralded by Blackwell himself no less! At the sight of him Dara’s eyes narrowed and his teeth were barred visibly, and as the slimy turd of a man spoke, each word that formed on his lips made his blood boil. The tyrant announced that they would go toe to toe…with minotaurs, three minotaurs. Many obscene words raced through Dara’s mind at the moment and he had half a mind to shout them out too, but hearing the cages open followed by the cry of their opponents brought him out any sort of tirade welling in his mind.
He put the current predicament into a tactical perspective. Three ferocious beast-men were wandering through the maze searching for them and will likely charge on sight. There was low maneuverability in this maze so that wasn’t an option so far. There were two paths on their left and right, there was the option of splitting up into two teams…but then they may simply be picked off. Then thoughts of Gambrills words came to mind of predators and prey; was this what he meant? Minotaurs were certainly more massive and swift than the average human; perhaps his advice to strike at the back of the leg could be applicable. Dara also recalled him saying, “Remember! Always lead with your left and guard with you right!” Unfortunately that advice had no clear applications though it did give Dara an idea.
“Alright everyone listen up! We’re going in a two by three formation, a line starting with two people in the front and ending in two in the back. We’re going through the maze nice and slow, they mentioned traps. Sean, Leilatha, you two will take point.” Before he assigned the next two in line he noticed Anvain in a trembling and shocked state, it was now clear to him that it was likely that she had never taken a life, Great, a straggler. He thought for a small moment, then deliberated this conclusion, “Bliss, you and…Anvain was it?” they had never introduced each other but he believed he heard her say her name to Gambrill, “You two are behind them, Cutlass an I will watch the rear.” Just for reassurance Dara translated everything he just said to Sean.
“Everyone got that?” he addressed them once more. “If you see one of our opponents let everyone else know, it’ll probably charge at us, when it does I want everyone’s weapon aimed at it like this,” he unsheathed one of his swords and held it pointed away from him, the blade level with his eyes and the hilt mere inches from the right of his face. “In fact it’s probably best that you have them out in this position most of the time. Leilatha, Sean, lead on by taking the left.”
He hoped he was clear enough and that everyone understood his orders. For Leilatha and Sean to take point was to have two of their best fighters out in front, and they already paired with each other so it made more sense to keep it that way. He put Anvain and Bliss behind them so that they would be protected in the center, no offence to their fighting prowess, but in these conditions, Bliss’s specialty with knives which called for maneuverability simply couldn’t be applicable. The second reason for them being together was Anvain, if anyone could keep her nerves under control it was Bliss, Anvain may only be a liability at the moment but he wasn’t about to make her a meat shield. As for him and Cutlass that was simply the luck of the draw, he would just have to trust that the centaur would do his best in the given environment.
“Lead with your left and guard with your right,” he quoted under his breathe, it was inaudible to the others. They were taking the left path and guarding from the right sooon to be the rear, and though Dara didn’t know why he was heading the advice of a being whom he had just met, or if that was even the correct interpretation, they at least now had a plan…of sorts, it couldn’t be called perfect by any means. But who knows? Perhaps they would come out alive by some miracle; they sure as hell needed one.
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The moment the hand touched his neck, Gambrill didn’t even tense as he knew the touch so well by now. His eyes merely followed the gladiators until he the gate closed completely behind them and he could no longer track their whereabouts, at least he had that spying hole he carved not so long ago. With the gladiators now gone, his age clouded eyes were turned back to the small boy and the grin returned to his face as he watched him attempt to climb his side to no avail then promptly run about with laughter. His eyes were on the boy, an ear to the arena and an ear to Sylvani as he listened in on her fuming at an apparent new healer she wasn’t pleased with.
Turning his horned head as far as it would go, he watched as Erryn skittered to his mother to retrieve a snack then hurry up to him and offer the rest. He chuckled, his eyes upon the boy as he answered his mother’s earlier question. “I am old, I’m afraid I ache everywhere.” His tongue stuck out as he lapped the sandwich from the boy’s hand, curling the tip of his tongue around his hand for a moment knowing it would prompt a squeal from him before he took off once more. Now that his young friend was content to run around and play with his tail, Gambrill settled down, rumbling contentedly and enjoyed Sylvani’s pets as she searched for any wounds of any kind. She was always so gentle with him, and he appreciated that fact greatly but he was always a difficult patient and kept his complaints to himself. It was enough for him just to have the company of others with him. Sylvani’s next question pulled him from his thoughts and despite the fact he had been listening to every word his friend had been saying, he had been drifting off, lulled by her pets and looked at her with a shy grin before answering. “Well, if you truly want my humble opinion my dear, you’ve always been a very intense individual but of course it’s one thing I adore about you, your passion.” He pulled his tail away from Erryn’s playful grip gently to drag slowly over the cage bottom to her face where he touched her cheek gently. “Give the boy a chance though. This can be a terrifying world, not everyone is dull to its sensations just yet. Perhaps he is holding back because he does not wish to be part of it at all, which I’m sure you can understand and I can as well. See what he can do at the heat of the moment after this battle, and then make your decisions on him hm?” His tail tip gently stroked her face before dropping down and returning to Erryn as he smiled at Sylvani. “And smile more my dear, I do so miss it. It brightened my day.” He commented as his eyes took in her stressed features before traveling up to Pandora and Jacob. “Ah, hello there, Pandora was it? A pleasure to meet you my dear and Jacob, my it has been a long while hasn’t it?” If anyone didn’t know any better it could have been sworn that a mischievous gleam flew threw the dragon’s eyes if just for a moment. He eyed the trainer for a moment longer before his full attention was given towards the arena. “Can someone tell me which path they’re taking?”
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Jacob grinned as he watched the child run around offering Gambrill food. "Growing up with a dragon as a friend, the child will probably be damn well near fearless when he gets older" He said with a laugh. After the dragon and sylvani got done conversing Jacob raised an eyebrow as Gambrill greeted them; The damn dragon was always scheming something. "Yes it has been a long time indeed, seems you haven't changed much" Jacob shook is head and addressed Sylvani. "The lizards right, the kid is young and honestly if I didn't know that the dragon here is just and overgrown cat with scales and wings then I would probably be a bit scared to come down here too. He hasn't gotten a good chance to show his skills so wait until this fight is over to judge him...I am only saying this because we dont need conflict in our ranks, not if we want to survive this." Something tickled the back of Jacobs mind telling him he had forgotten something important dealing with the healers but for the life of him he couldn't remember what. After a moment of silence Jacob walked over to the peep hole and stared out at the image in the sky showing the gladiators. "They are taking the left path by the looks of it, though they haven't moved much yet. I believe they are getting in formation before taking off... not a bad decision." Jacob said as he heard the minotaurs cry once more.
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Gideon continued smiling as the healer refused his offer and turned away. "Oh dear" he said in mock disappointment "Your not even going to listen to my offer... fine I guess I will have to give you a little incentive." He smiled as he looked around to make sure the spectators were not paying the slightest bit of attention then reached beneath his robes and pulled out a black wand. He pointed the tip of the instrument at the healers back "Well if you will take a glance over your shoulder you will see that I have a small black want pointed at you. This pretty little device casts an enfeeblement spell... so unless you know or can afford someone that has an extremely large amount of healing prowess to remove this little curse, you will be a useless lump of flesh the rest of you life.That is unless you decide to listen to my offer a bit longer, and take it into a bit more consideration."
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As the gladiators were sent into the ring, a soft breath she had not realized she had been holding left Pandora as she brought her full concentration in front of her to her lead healer and the dragon in need of their help. She could not fathom the riddle meant for the gladiators and honestly, had not thought too greatly upon it. It would do her no good to understand the warning if the gladiators could not figure it out for themselves. She sighed as Sylvani began speaking upon Kelyren and no argument came from the older woman. “He is a cause for concern,” she said, speaking to Sylvani, as well as Jacob and Gambrill. She was all for giving chances where chances were due, but in this world, there was very little room for mistakes and indecision. “While I do understand your anger, you do not wish for the King to set him into the ring. You are simply frustrated, and rightfully so.” She moved closer to the mighty dragon and gave a bow of respect before continuing. “He comes to the gladiators half asleep, and I feel I can not rely on him to bring a hasty hand or work efficiently. I can not even be certain if he will have the ability to do what is necessary for the them. I do however, agree with Jacob and Gambrill. Save final judgment until after this battle.”
She watched as the small child ran to Sylvani and observed as he whole demeanor shifted when dealing with the young boy. The youth was charming and Pandora could not help but smile as he offered the mighty beast half of his sandwich. The smile only widened as she moved beside the younger woman, glancing at her for a moment. “He is precious. You must be very proud,” she said softly, watching as Gambrill played with the child as well, feeling a sense of family from the group that sent a small ache in her heart. Still, now was not the time and she instead stepped closer to the mighty dragon at Sylvani's request. As she rummaged through her selection of potions, salves, and vials she listened to Sylvani's concerns.
“I will be sure to observe Kelyren more closely. I can understand your concerns and do not fault you for them,” she said honestly, sending a smile to the boy. “I understand. Believe me, I completely understand your desire to keep him safe and away from any who may explain who he is to the king,” she assured. “I will not speak a word about him, and while I do not have any magic to speak of, I do have methods by which I can try hiding the spots. Concealment agents. I have none on me at the moment, and I will need a few ingredients to make it, but if applied daily and watched carefully, it may be able to help keep the boy, Erryn, from being looked at too closely.” It was something that may be able to help a small bit in keeping the child's special features hidden, though it was only a temporary fix. She would love to have the child around them all, bringing a sense of hope and peace the innocence of such a young boy could provide. “Erryn,” she said, speaking to the young boy. “My name is Pandora. It is a great pleasure to meet you.” She smiled at the boy before bringing her attention back to the dragon at hand.
She stopped for a moment as she regarded the dragon before her, taking in his hardened features and smiling for a moment. She wasn't sure if he would be able to tell if she were dragon-bound or not, but simply the sight of him brought hope to her, false though it may be. “If you would permit, Gambrill, I would alieviate you of any pain you may be experiencing. I can assure you, I will not harm you. Not that such a mighty and noble beast, such as yourself, could not stop a mere woman if you so desired.” She praised the dragon and ran her hand over his scales for a moment, to assure him she would not do anything to harm him, before moving her hand over the nodule. “This will pinch a small bit, but it will alleviate your pain.” Taking her small knife, she shifted the plating of some of the scales and kneaded her hands over the nodule, determining its size. She removed a thick salve and taking a hefty sum in her hand, began to massage it into the area, the combination of the massage relaxing the muscles and the salve shrinking the nodule would have him feeling good as new. After a few more moments, she shifted his scales back into protective place and gently rubbed the spot after wiping her hands clean on a towel. “There. If there is anything else, I will be happy to help, though some of my stores may not be enough for a patient of your size,” she explained before turning to Sylvani.
“The herbs I use are sometimes only half of the work,” she explained, pulling out one particular vial. “This is a standard antibiotic by which to overwhelm infection from the inside. And this,” she said, pulling out a second vial, “is rubbed on the wound to fight outside infection. If the wound is not a cut, and instead a muscular injury, I have salves that I use with a massaging technique to relieve the pain and rejuvenate the muscles.” She placed the vials back in her pouch and smiled. “In addition, I have pain relievers, anti-toxins, bandaging, and tools to aid me. I can make a temporary splint if one of the gladiators breaks a leg or arm, as well as the skill to remove shattered bits of metal from the body.” Keeping her self as presentable as possible, she smiled, wanting to make a good impression on her higher in command. “When I only have my herbs to heal by, I must be well learned in techniques and ailments, as well as their symptoms. And I have worked hard to be as well trained as I am now.”
All that was left now was Sylvani's assessment and if Gambrill had any other ailments she wished to address. She heard Jacob describe the direction the gladiators were taking and could hear the cry of the beasts that hunted them, suppressing her shudder. The mere sound of the beasts made her skin crawl and she crossed her arms over her chest. It was in the gladiators' hands as to their fate.
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Kelyren took a quick look over his shoulder, he froze at the sight of the device pointed at him. Yep, looks like he had been right not to trust this guy. Receive money, or be cursed - this was most certainly a trick of some sort.
Of course, there was the possibility that the wand was simply a painted stick, harmless unless jabbed into someone's eye. It was possible, but Kelyren decided that taking his chances with magical artifacts was not a good idea. Best to play along... for now. If he got out of this encounter unharmed, he was undoubtedly going to let Sylvani know about this. She'd probably know what to do about this sort of situation.
This is the last time I wander around a crowded area alone, he thought to himself. Next time I'm sticking with the others. If there is a next time for me.
"You sound extremely desperate to get all that money off your hands," he said cheerfully, forcing any signs of fear or worry out of his voice. His uncaring, casual attitude was a bluff, though. This well-dressed, smooth-talking scoundrel made him nervous, and he wasn't sure of the man's motives. There was no one else watching, and he doubted that guards would reach him if he yelled for help. However, showing fear would probably encourage the other man, and it would be like giving him a victory. "I'm flattered. I don't even know your name, and you're already trying to drown me in cash." He turned to face the man, and grinned jokingly. "My mama told me that I should never accept money from strangers."
"So," Kelyren continued. "If you'd like me to listen to your offer, tell me a bit about who you are. It's easier to do business with people I know by name, get my drift?"
He was well aware that this man could give him a fake name or a false identity, so he tried to remember as many details of the man's physical appearance as he could.
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Leilatha was grateful, the dragon decided to give the group some fighting advice. Hopefully they would be able to decipher the advice in time for it to be useful. As the massive gates were lifted, Leilatha’s spirit and hope dropped at the sight of two towering walls in front of them, it’s a maze she realized. Putting a hand over her face, Leilatha tried to remain positive, even after the ******* King’s speech announcing they would be up against three Minoutaurs. She refused to dissolve into a puddle of despair, she was part of a team and they would get through this together.
Upon the conclusion of the King’s speech, Dara took immediate command of the group ordering everyone in two lines two across. It was one less thing Leilatha needed to worry about, Dara put her in the front group. She was a good fighter and would do better given more room to swing her sword; however Leilatha was more likely to run straight into one of the beasts by being in the front. A Mintour could gore you upon his horns before you even had time to raise your weapon.
Leilatha was grateful to have Bliss at her back, though the girl often seemed too cheerful with her current predicament she was a good fighter and would be useful if Leiatha was fighting one of the creatures and then Bliss could slip in close with her daggers and finish it off. Anvain was another matter, with the dreamy expression on her face; Leilatha couldn’t help but wonder if Dara put her in the middle so the others could protect the idiot. Another possible problem was Cutlass, if he was in the back row. How in the world could he walk backwards to guard the groups rear, Leilatha reassured herself by seeing Dara would be in the back as well.
Leilatha nodded to Dara indicating she had heard, he also gave the group a good way of holding their weapons at the ready. Stretching her muscles on last time, Leilatha crouched into her fighting stance and began leading the group around the left wall, wary of everything around her, she walked halfway down the path. The Minotaur’s cries seemed louder once inside the walls.
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Before the gates opened, the giant lizard began talking about cutting an animal’s legs to slow it down and that the gladiators should lead with the left and guard with the right. Anvain was terribly confused why this terrifying creature was giving them advice when he had just killed many gladiators in the arena minutes before they entered. Perhaps it was a trick; the giant lizard could be trying to make their deaths as painful as possible.
Anvain was one of the first out of the cage, breathing erratically she was dismayed to see walls surrounding the arena. At ten feet tall, it would be easy for Anvain to scale one she had climbed trees several hundred feet tall, it was the matter of wanting to know what was over the wall. When the King appeared in the sky above, Anvain was taken aback; she had never seen magic used that way. When the King spoke of Minotaurs being in the maze with them Anvain knew that something with such a name could only be a savage dangerous beast. Suddenly a loud grating sound reached Anvain’s ears, followed by a lowing call. They sound like cows. Anvain thought to herself. Perhaps everything would be okay.
“Yes, that is my name.” She replied to Dara’s query and quickly found her spot next to the cheerful Bliss. Anvain chastised herself for not paying attention, this was life or death and she needed to be alert and ready. Dara and Cutlass being in the back of the group gave Anvain some confidence they were protected from any sneak attacks. Putting on a fake smile Anvain shakily followed Sean and Leilatha around the first bend in the maze, making sure to keep her sword tip lifted.
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Bliss walked into the maze and felt her mouth fall in open in awe. It was so big, it would take them next to forever to find what they were looking for. But with a quick speech from someone, one she wasn’t quite paying attention to because she was studying the walls and thinking of that the dragon had said. She trusted him as much as she trusted all of her other teammates, something you needed to do when you were letting them protect your life in the same favour for them. They would probably need to stick to the left side, after all, even if the kept going left, even if they hit a dead end, it would get them out eventually. So she decided to voice said thoughts. “You know guys, if we keep on going left eventually we’ll find our way out of the maze, it’s only common logic. I mean, we might not even have to fight all three if we’re lucky. And if we keep our backs to the left and face more right, nothing will be a surprise to us, no?” She asked in a voice that was way to cheery to be in a death maze.
She slipped into formation and shot Dara a small smile, she was grateful of him taking charge. They needed someone to do it and Dara was a great guy to do so. He was the person she knew the most so far, which made her rather happy. She slipped into formation and gave Anvain a huge smile, noticing how scared the girl was. She knew she was in the middle because this was a pretty bad situation for her, nothing would be good for up close fighting but her aim was still rather good and the possibility of her throwing her weapons was probably something Dara had thought of. His formation was perfect though and Bliss couldn’t really think of a better one for this type of situation, although Anvain being scared made her feel bad. She threw her arm around the girl, Bliss wasn’t one to ever consider someone’s personal space.
“So, Anvain right? That’s a pretty name, suits you.” She grinned at the girl, warming up for her ramble. She knew that scared people never gave good fighters, something that years of experience told her. It just wasn’t good, it would make them distracted and their wish to react would be incredibly lessened. “You know, this maze is pretty cool. I’ve never been in one before and I didn’t expect the bush to be so pretty. I mean, everything is pretty peaceful in here if you just took away the crowds cheering and the minotaur’s. Which, you know, will totally be gone soon enough. We’re so gonna kick their ass, I mean, look at us! We’re complete badasses, we should so be sporting shades. The minotaur’s won’t even know what will hit them, hell, they should be running away scared. I got my daggers, that’s scary in itself.” She winked at the girl and twirled her daggers around on each hand, the blade dancing around her fingers, almost as if she were trying to show the girl that she was incredibly skilled with her daggers. She wanted to comfort the girl. “So don’t worry, anyways guys. How was your sleep last night? I mean I slept pretty good although I had the weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeirdest dream. I dreamt that the king was, like, swimming in a huge tub of ice cream and pudding. And he was crying because Spotty, is pet giraffe, died, so he kept on eating the pudding and ice cream. So then Jacob came in and starting screaming at him about something I think was about training but the king just through a shoe at him. Anyways, it ended by the kind exploding because he ate too much food.” She giggled and then smiled over, thinking about her dream, following the others.
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Sylvani was either a very good mother… or a **** poor one. She watched as Erryn fed the dragon, darted around everyone and nearly went through the cage bars until the Brute grabbed onto the boy’s shirt and pulled him back with a growl, deposited him back by his mother and sat next to him. Sylvani reached down and petted the top of the dog’s head, silently thanking him for watching the dog as she listened to the others talk. At least there she was able to speak her mind plainly without worry that she’d hurt someone’s delicate feelings or just **** someone off. Instead, her hands kept wandering over Gambrill as she started to pull her magic from where she kept it locked away and allowed some of it to heat her hands. The color that her magic showed was a pale blue and would cool instead of heat as she started to direct the flow of magic towards where she felt Gambrill needed it the most, be it his mind to soothe any mental pain or to where the chains could be rubbing raw. She smiled slightly, though it quickly faded as she kept concentrating. “Kelyren needs to get his head adjusted before he’s killed and dragged off through the streets becomes he’s incompetent. Being a healer is only slightly more safe than being a gladiator, but…maybe standing out in the stands will teach him,” she said in a huff.
She watched as Pandora applied the herbs and she nodded. Time and again, the older woman was showing her aptitude for her craft, which only allowed the Aubade female to feel a bit better about trusting her with the gladiators. “At least you’re proving yourself,” she said to the woman as she moved and stepped over Gambrill’s tail, having to reposition herself and find a new spot to work as Erryn followed her. She shot a dark glare at Jacob. “Don’t you tell me that he just needs ‘time to adjust’, be careful, Jacob, you’re going to start getting the reputation of being soft and who knows, you might become Gambrill’s snack,” she said to him, knowing that trainers had to be just as hard as anyone else that made their living by the will of the King. She had interrupted Pandora to talk to Jacob and turned back to the woman with an uncharacteristic huff. “I am sorry Pandora, I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” she said as the magic kept moving from her in small amounts as she waited for Gambrill to tell her that he had enough. “If you think that you can hide the spots, I would appreciate it more than you know. It’s hard trying to convince him to keep the hood up when we’re out in public and all he wants to do is talk…” she said as Erryn proved her words true as he kept trying to get Jacob’s attention, asking to be picked up so he could see out of the hole. “Jacob,” she said, “please don’t let him watch. The last time he saw a fight, he had nightmares,” she called over. Desensitized, she truly was that. Death still hurt her, but she learned to move on. It was all that one could do. “Fine, I’ll give the boy a chance,” she said begrudgingly, “but I hold firm. He is not allowed near my son. I’ll castrate him if I find him even looking at him wrong,” she promised and her words were heavy with promise.
She worked her magic into a touch spot by one of the chains, wishing that she could corrode them and set Gambrill free, at least one of her friends would leave the arena alive by then. She’d do anything to set her friends free. “Give me a reason to smile, Gambrill,” she requested of him. “Give me a reason to dream and I can easily tell you how that would become my nightmare.”
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Being reassured that he wouldn’t be eaten by a dragon wasn’t quite enough for the centaur. The gates opened and he stepped out and onto the firm ground. He sneezed, sensing magic and looked skyward, a bit hard for him to do as he turned his head to the side to see a bit better. That wouldn’t work. He grumbled and gave up. He heard that they would be fighting minotaurs and he shrugged. Minotaurs, Centaurs… some sort of ‘taurs. While he wouldn’t be conversing over tea with those liminal creatures, he’d just move along as best as he was able. If he was stuck fighting them…well…he’d figure that out when he got there. He watched as Dara took the lead and while he looked towards the right and sneezed again, he turned to follow the path that the other set. He was nearly as bad as a unicorn, always following women. “What? No ball of twine?” he asked sarcastically. “Then again, there was no beautiful woman for Dara to seduce, promise marriage and be the cause of her eventual death or suicide. I’ve always been a bit fuzzy on my history,” he said. More and more his ire was raised and the complacent ‘horse’ that he was trained to be was fading under the true manner in which Cutlass acted.
He wheeled around before he completely entered the maze and shot a challenging glare to the crowd. “You know, this would be so much more fun if I was given back my bridle,” he taunted, not caring if anyone could hear him. He scuffed at the ground with one hoof, marking the ground before he trotted in after the rest of the team. He watched as Bliss tried to comfort Anvain, Dara moving ahead, Sean ambling along, the female-elf who he really had to learn the name of, kept walking along as well. He moved slowly, touching his hoof down carefully before he kept along. Being surrounded by walls was not his idea of a good time, and armed with worthless swords of dubious quality, probably bound to break on impact, was not helping his already sour mood. He heard a roar to his right and he sighed. Unlike humans that could look down and still walk, he was stuck always having to keep his head raised and looking ahead. He had no choice but to look fear in the eye as he moved forward.
He listened to Bliss talk about her dream, but most of it sounded like nonsense and he quickly tuned it out. He envisioned the path that they had been following and took his sword, scratched out a strange design and kept walking. Periodically, he’d stop and do that before he’d keep going. “Labyrinths aren’t traditional mazes,” he said finally. “The King can’t be that intelligent if he got the two confused. Sure, some think that mazes are the same as labyrinths, but a maze has paths and branches to take. A reflection, perhaps, of mankind’s freewill in the face of destiny. He may think that he’s choosing his path, but in fact, it all leads him to the same bitter end. He fights against it. Runs into every corner, wall, or pathway. He thinks that he’s doing something new and unique, but at the end… it’s a ****-poor copy of a life already led and at the end, the Gods still win. Now, a labyrinth isn’t a puzzle or a maze. Not if this is a traditional labyrinth. A labyrinth, no matter the twists or turns, the amount of backward circles that makes you think that you’ve been walking for miles… it all leads to one place. The center. The only way out…” he scratched out another design. “Is to make sure you don’t get eaten by whatever is inside the labyrinth.”
He paused again, something was pricking at the back of his mind. A large group was a stupid idea. It meant easy prey, getting trapped. “If a maze is humans manifestation of free will in the face of a certain end, then a labyrinth has got to be a human understanding that nothing in life matters. That every twist, turn and bend in the road will not lead to a different ending. It will do nothing but bring one to the center, to death…and the only way to escape the labyrinth is to be reborn.”
Cutlass reflected on that as he watched the others move ahead. He didn’t like where they were heading, didn’t like it at all. A maze meant one exit, possibly heavily guarded by the liminal creatures. Death at the end. A labyrinth meant death in the center. He wanted to herd the minotaurs, force them to grow tired and pick them off. He didn’t want to walk blindly into a trap. They had females in the team and he remembered the tales that his mother would tell him of their myth. There was a path that moved right. He looked towards the rest of the group, settled on the skittish woman before he turned and left them. He was worthless to them standing in the back. He could sense an attack but he couldn't back up if he had to. He was better going off alone.
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Jacob raised an eyebrow at Sylvani and met her glare "You asked my opinion and I told you he hasn't gotten a chance to show himself. If he was one of my gladiators I would make him prove himself as soon as I could by putting him up against something blood thirsty just like I did to all of my gladiators when they arrived. Don't mistake the fact that I dont tell you how to run the healers for softness on my behalf, you damn well know I would have died by now if I was soft." He said in a calm tone. "I respect and trust you enough to deal with the healers to not crack down on them to, I trust that you will know how to handle them. As for Gambrill" Jacob smiled a bit "well if he ate me then I would be damn sure to do best to give him the worst case of indigestion hes ever had" he said half jokingly. When Sylvani started talking to Pandora again Jacob looked back out the window until something started pulling at his pants leg. He looked down to see Erryn asking to see out the hole. Jacob nodded at Sylvani's order, and listened to her saying that she would give the young healer a chance and her deadly promise. Jacob nodded his head in acceptance of Sylvani's words. He knew she would come through on every word of her promise and he didn't blame her, he at one point had loved ones he would have done anything to protect to. If she did something to the young healer then he would deserve it and Jacob would not interfere. He looked down and patted Erryn on his head "Don't worry child there is nothing for you to see out there. Now run along to your mother" he whispered to the child so Sylvani would not hear "I believe she needs a hug." he said as he stood up and looked back out the hole "and a reminder of why she needs to continue on dreaming of a better future" he mumbled to himself.
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Gideon smiled his charming smile at the bold young healer "Oh you would like to know a little about me.... sure why not, I guess I should tell my business partners a bit more about myself. Now what should I tell you" He thought for a second still holding the wand a Kelyren. "Well my names Gideon, you dont really need a last name so dont worry about it. I like sweet food, and despise people who stall. You have a name and know what I look like so I believe you know more than enough about me" He said losing the grin that had so far been plastered to his face. "I am wanting you to give this to one of the gladiators after the fight is over" he said setting a small green vial next to Kelyren. The crowd started roaring for some reason or another and Gideon had to wait until the quieted down for one reason or another before he continued in a whisper loud enough to be heard only by him an the healer "It is an amazingly potent poison, you dont even have to drink it just rub a bit in one of their wounds and the poison will take care of the rest. You will be paid 1000 gold for each gladiator after their deaths are confirmed... so what do you say friend?"
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As Cutlass separated from the other gladiators a loud rumbling could be heard a split second before a large wall shot up separating him from the other gladiators. Not a second later a second wall shot up behind the other gladiators moving forward herding them along down their chosen path way with no paths to the left or right. A large pool 7x7 of some bubbling substance appeared in front of them about 40 yards down the way with a right turn 10 yards past the pool. With the speed the wall was moving they would have to either jump the pool or fall in within the next 10 seconds. On Cutlass's side of the wall there was the loud roar of a minotaur, it sounded as if it was getting closer to him though with the echo of the walls there was no sure way to know. He had the choice of taking a left turn a bit down the way or heading straight until he found a right turn about 50 yards further down.
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Dimitri laughed as the centaur broke off from the ground and then became permanently separated. This was turning out better than he had hoped... right now was just the right time to introduce his other little surprise. He stood up and tapped the arena master on the shoulder. The master turned around and stuttered a greeting "S-s-s-sir you need something?" The Dimitri smiled at him his eyes turning white "Yes I would like to speak to the crowd again" He said in an almost relaxed tone of voice. "Yes sir right away sir" the arena master said as he started waving his hands. After he was done casting his spell he looked at the king "They can hear you now sir."
"Perfect" purred the king as he stepped up to the balcony. "My subjects" his sultry voice boomed throughout the arena "I have one more surprise to give you... It is something of a last minuet gift to you that I happened to remember I had." He waved his hands to some guards down near the arena floor. They started pulling at a crank moving the large stone door to another cage. "This" the king spoke again "is a warrior who dared to try and assassinate me with a few weak solders and ragged weapons. He has been thoroughly punished, and through my grace and benevolence he has received the chance to redeem himself in the arena." The crowd cheered and praised the king for a few moments until he raised a hand to silence them "So come out my slave and redeem yourself." he boomed as the door to the cage finally opened. From his cage the gladiator would have the same choice as the others, left or right.
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At Jacob’s description of him being an overgrown cat with scales, Gambrill snorted loudly as if offended, his face contorting into some sort of a pout before he settled back down to partially focus on Sylvani’s healing touch. “Well, I do hope you’re correct and they are taking the left path. That is the way less saturated with traps; of course either path you take will lead you to the center arena which holds a nasty surprise for our friends.” Without the guards around, Gambrill could now speak freely on the matter of the match at hand. Of course there was always the chance of some unknown ear eavesdropping from somewhere and ratting him out but at the moment such a faraway threat didn’t concern him. “Two of the minotaurs will roam freely through the maze and it is as good as your guess as it is mine when, where and if they will run into them. If they survive the trials of the maze itself they will then find themselves locked in the center arena with their final opponent, this particular minotaur will have been prodded and beaten through most of the match to assure that it is in a blood rage when the gladiators reach him. A very difficult opponent.” Flexing his wings as much as the tight restraints would allow, he felt a sort of sympathy for the creatures going against his newfound friends in the pit that perhaps others wouldn’t understand. They were great beasts of the arena just as he was, only there to draw more crowds when they were thrown out to do battle again and again. Although they weren’t particularly bright creatures, one of them was at least intelligent enough to hold simple conversation and knew who to be rightfully angry with at his predicament where his brothers were merely angry with any and all who dare so crossed their line of sight. Lingering on these thoughts to long would do no good though so he brought his eyes toward Pandora when she addressed him.
Now that he took the time to take in details of the new healer he could see she was an older female, by her species standards she was older at least, but still beautiful. The fact she had offered to help keep Erryn’s identity a secret already sealed her place in his mind so her assurance that he could trust her drew a deep chuckle from his chest as his eyes only momentarily flicked from her to watch Erryn run to Jacob before coming back and resting on her once more. “Although I enjoy compliments as much as the next, you do not have to be so formal with me. We are all friends here.” As she approached with a knife to begin her work, he turned his attention once more to Jacob. “Did you hear her Jacob? I am noble and mighty, you might want to take note of that.” Smiling in his toothy way towards the man, his exchange with him kept the pain from the shifting of scales away and left Gambrill with only the feeling of the woman’s soothing touch as she massaged the salve into the sore spot. Sighing out a great gust of air he then looked towards Sylvani, his head was jerked to the side a bit by his chains as he tried to turn and fully look at her. “That is enough my dear, wouldn’t want to drain you dry before you even tend to your team.” Grinning at her, he wanted to give her a reason to be happy and to smile as she had requested but he knew that with every ray of hope he pointed out, a way that it could be manipulated, a reason to worry about it would be given right back to him to he merely kept quiet and hoped his friend would one day gain true happiness. It was one of the few thoughts that kept him in such high spirits while he himself rarely saw the light of day for he knew he would never be free so his hope stuck with his friends and the possibility that they might one day step outside this arena as free beings.
Pandora’s work was quick and efficient; she seemed to know her way around his large scaly body as if she had experience with dragons. He wondered if perhaps he wasn’t as alone in regards to his species as he thought so when she was done and had finished explaining her herbs he had to ask. “Thank you very much Pandora but might I ask if you’ve ever worked on a dragon before? I only ask because most, excluding Sylvani of course, don’t even know how to shift my scales away from a wound to treat it but you were able to do so with the flick of a knife.” His eyes were curious now as he waited for an answer, seeming to ignore the great bellows, cheers and sounds of shifting stone that emitted from the arena. He knew that Jacob would inform them of anything drastic that happened in the fight so was content to carry on conversation while everyone worried silently for their friends.
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"It's a pleasure to meet you, Gideon," Kelyren replied. "I like sweets too, but then again... who doesn't?"
He quieted at the sight of the green vial. Here it was at last... The foul play that he had heard about. He was almost certain that it was poison, and the mere thought of poisoning a wounded, defenseless man or woman made him feel sick. Even though he had not been given a choice, his job was to heal the injured, not kill them.
The roar of the crowd barely registered in his mind as he weighed the possibilities. Kelyren stared at the vial, barely managing to keep disgust out of his facial expression. He half-suspected that Gideon would attack him if he declined the offer. If he accepted it, he was pretty sure that Gideon had associates who would make sure that he carried out the task. Neither choice seemed to be favorable.
"Well, I've listened to your offer, and I've taken some time to consider it," he said mildly, choosing his words as carefully as he could. "It does sound tempting, and that's a hefty sum of money involved. However, I've made a promise to a dear friend of mine, and accepting this task from you would shatter it into a million tiny pieces. I'm sorry, but I don't think a thousand gold coins could convince me to break the promise I made to her." He bowed his head politely, though he did not break eye contact with Gideon or make any move to leave.
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The smell of death hung potently in the air of the small, caged in area that the large man had been moved to at the start of the day. The sun brought heat into the enclosure, and little ventilation allowed for the rotting smell of flesh to remain pungent in the air around him. Still, he sat on the floor, his back pressed to a wall adjacent to the one he had entered through, assuming that to remain in place so he would not fear a knife to his back. A sword had been cast into the cage with him, its edges dull in neglect and thin from mass production. The balance was off, as was the hilt damaged that it cut into the hand, but such was the lot of a captive who fought against the overlord king who ruled his lands in fear. King. Such a title was far too noble and held far too much meaning to be placed before the wretch's name, denoting him as ruler and 'protector' of the lands. This king, this Dimitri, was no protector. He was a terrorist, invoking fear to any who crossed his path simply for the joy to see them tremble beneath his might.
The proud warrior raised his head, vowing to himself to never tremble or beg in front of the vile creature that was this self-proclaimed king. He knew where he was, knew what was intended for him without the jabbing insults from the guards. They called him barbaric, another beast to have its life snuffed out in the arena, though truly, they were only half right. He was a beast, though no barbarian despite his stature. Tattoos covered most of the man's body, traveling down the left side of his torso and his thighs, continuing down his leg in its entirety. His arms also held the symbols, though it was his right shoulder that held the majority of the ink, traveling completely down to his hand. He wore the scrapped clothing that he had been allowed to keep after his beatings and whippings at the hands of the guards, only willing to try such a stunt after being drugged so as to not fight back. He would remember, each one of those men, and they would receive their retribution.
The crowd's roar reverberated within his chamber and he raised his head toward the direction of the main voice speaking. And then he came on. Hate filled eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as he resisted the urge to stand and attempt breaking down the cage simply to interrupt the man with the silk voice and blackened heart. Some poor souls were being put against the minotaurs, getting off easy compared to those against the dragon earlier. He leaned back against the wall and resolved again to wait when suddenly, his cage was opened up and once again, the voice of temptation rose over the arena. A slave, he could not even be titled properly, he was named a slave. A snarl on his lips, he grabbed the sword, weak though it was, and stood to his full six foot, five height, striding out of the cage and into the bright area to the deafening roar of the crowd. The sun landed over his filth covered body, his shaved head, and he could almost hear the cries of a barbarian being in their midst. He bent down after shoving the blade within his best and sanded his hands, chest, back, legs, aiming to dry them in the filth so that they may clump away from him. He would need to have his hands dry if he were to be placed against minotaurs, and possibly the gladiators within.
He cast one finally look around him before facing forward, seeing the labyrinth opened before him and the crowds eager sights to see him choose a pathway. He closed his eyes, shut out the crowd around him and remained bent, listening to the earth, feeling for vibrations that were not of the magic and masses surrounding him. Minotaurs were large, but they mostly carried axes, a weapon he was most comfortable with and he resolved that he would simply have to take one from the corpse when he received the opportunity. Once his path had been chosen, the proud warrior stood again and strode confidently into the left side of the labyrinth without so much as a word, finding the walls to not be increasingly high, and formulating plans of assault and ways he could use it to his advantage. He was a learned man, an angry man, a vengeful man. And Niall MacKelter would not stop until retribution had been paid to both him and his kin.
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A smile graced over Pandora's features as she finished wiping her hands clean of any further slave, glad she was was being recognized for her abilities in her healing. She had no magic, so it fell to her knowledge to carry her and keep her from being forced into the ring herself. She understood both sides of the Keylren issue and while she agreed with allowing him this opportunity to help tend to the gladiators to prove his worth, she understood the desire to protect her offspring tooth and nail. She would keep Erryn a secret, and protect the young life as best as she was able. “I will need to spend time with him so that I may match my concealer with his skin tone,” she explained, smiling down at the small child. She bent down on one knee and reached around to remove a small flask from her bag simply filled with water and a piece from the bread she had baked that morning. “Are you still hungry, sweetie?” she asked, offering the items to the lad. Growing boys needed their food and she was looking to be sure he would have plenty.
After a moment, she stood back up and dusted her skirts off, turning once more to Gambrill with a secretive smile. “I simply speak truth, Gambrill,” she said honestly with a small laugh, stroking her hands over the scales of the mighty creature she stood beside. “The dragon I mostly tended to enjoyed having his ego inflated, especially when my healing salves and potions would sting his flesh,” she explained, no question remaining that she had in fact had experience with dragons in the past. Remembrance of the past made their way to the forefront of her mind, of a large, silver scaled body and piercing crystal blue eyes. Of a temper that was only matched when directed toward her, of a kindness she cherished, and of love she would never feel from anyone else again. She looked around to those present in the cage: Jacob, a man who worked hard for his gladiators and seemed to have the trust of those present. Sylvani, the lead healer and a good woman who divulged a huge secret to her. Erryn, a small child who seemed more interested in play than anything else. And Gambrill, the mighty dragon who seemed to only wish to know more of his kind.
“I have an extensive knowledge of dragons, Gambrill,” she said quietly, moving around toward the head of the creature and stroking the scales that ran down between his eyes to his snout, reaching back around over to his neck. “And I would like to speak with you more about it.” She bit her lip gently, worried about any ears that may be listening in to their conversation from outside the cell. She was willing to divulge her information to the dragon, and even those that were in the room, held closely in his confidence, but if any heard what she had to say from the outside, she feared about what that sort of information could do if placed in the wrong hands. Instead, she continued to stroke over his face and neck comfortingly. “How old are you? How long have you been here?” she asked instead, changing the topic to get a better understanding of the arena dragon than from what her observations could glean. He was forced into the arena and to fight, so even the scars did little than to tell the story of his battles. Still, from the look in his eye and the curious way he held himself, she could not help but think that he was a younger dragon.
Her gaze traveled to Jacob as he watched from the small window that was made in the cage. “Are there any injuries yet?” she asked, wanting to know where she needed to be and with what sort of medicinal aid the moment she was allowed to approach her gladiators.
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The draconic man had kept glancing behind them, naively blind to Cutlass’s position for the majority of that time and more focused on not being caught by surprise ironically. He listened to the centaur’s oddly existential relation of the labyrinth to life, Dara took his speaking as a sign he was still with them and didn’t bother turning around to check if it remained that way. In response he spoke without looking, “I can hardly believe this place is some sort of allegory for actual life, it’s the design of sadistic mortal man, not a god. Maybe the gods have some sort of say in our lives but I’m certain a day will come when Blackwell won’t. Life has a lot less walls than you thi- Cutlass?” It would never be known if any of his words had reached the somber centaur, for events played into motion that pitted himself and the rest of his comrades against immediate odds.
The immediate layout spontaneously changed, and a wall separated them from Cutlass. To make matters worse, a ways down appeared some sort of viscous fluid that had reeking fumes detectable from their position. In addition to this series of unfortunate events, Blackwell threw in a wild card, another gladiator whom apparently tried to end his reign. Though Dara would have given the man a medal, now wasn’t the time to be enamored. His mind processed the following; Already lost one of my men, check. Have steel wall pushing me and the rest of my team into a puddle of no doubt agonizing pain, check. Have a gladiator whom I have no idea will be on our side even if we survive the next few seconds, check. Less then five minutes into our first fight and I’ve already gotten everyone virtually screwed. How can this possibly get any-wait, no, I’m not falling for that again.
The only option was the obvious, which he relayed to his teammates, “Break formation! Make the maddest dash of your life and leap!” In more irony that was nearly the opposite of his “plan” which called for them to move relatively stealthily and slowly. So far it was a great first day in the coliseum for Dara. All he needed now was to make it across the Pool of Unpleasantness only to be impaled by a rabid unicorn. That would just about make his day.
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Anvain stiffened when she was embraced by the over eager Bliss. In forest elf society, hugging and other displays of emotion are considered things to be done in private only. Luckily for Bliss, Anvain had always been different than the other forest elves; often having outbursts at odd moments. Once she gently returned the gesture Anvain felt her spirits lift. There was at least one person on the team that did not look down upon her.
While the group carefully entered the maze Bliss began speaking of her very odd dream the previous night. Bliss used many words Anvain had never heard before, making the young elf think Bliss was mentally damaged from the many fights she had been through. As Bliss finished her story, Cutlass began to speaking. He informed the group that they were not in a maze but in a labyrinth, the distinction between the two was mostly lost on Anvain it seemed to be one more mystery of this cruel land. She sympathized with Cutlass, in this place it was a wonder the others could continue fighting day after day.
Suddenly a stone wall sprung out of the ground cutting Cutlass off from the group. Then another wall appeared and began herding the remaining gladiators into a boiling pit of acid. It seemed there was a choice of jump across or die, but Anvain’s immediate instinct was to climb the tallest tree in the vicinity till the danger passed. As there were no trees available, Anvain set her sights on the rapidly approaching wall, she took off at a full run placing one foot against the wall she grabbed the top and quickly hauled herself up.
The second wall proved to be more of a challenge, Anvain would have to jump from a standstill while she was traveling backwards on the first wall and there was the hidden sword to think of. Using every muscle to leap Anvain just barely cleared the wall and she would have been safe had Cutlass not been standing right underneath the end of her leap. Not wanting to hurt the centaur Anvain twisted in midair managing to land just to the left of him. A smile graced her face; she still had her forest skills.
When Anvain stood to address Cutlass a bolt of pain shot up her leg, causing her to groan inwardly. In this labyrinth a simple sprained ankle could be the end of a gladiator, hoping Cutlass had not noticed her wince she inquired if he had a plan for moving forward. The young elf was glad to be in the company of Cutlass and she would prove her value as a fighter to the handsome Centaur.
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Leilatha was relieved to see Bliss taking an interest in Anvain, leaving her free to focus on protecting the front. Leilatha could not shake the feeling that something would be rounding the corner ahead and attacking them. Being in the front had an advantage, but one of the drawbacks is not being able to hear the conversations going on to the rear. A few bits of Bliss’s dream reached her, only confirming her suspicion that the human was slightly mad.
Cutlass made an excellent point about a labyrinth ending in the middle with a nasty surprise waiting there. Though his tone worried Leilatha, a gladiator without hope quickly falls in battle often taking a few comrades with them. Leilatha did not have any spare hope to lend the centaur, she lived every day with the hope there would be a next sunrise for her. Leilatha’s hope for escape or freedom had long ago been snuffed out.
Suddenly Leilatha’s thoughts were torn away as a wall sliced up from the ground separating the centaur, before anyone had time to react another wall began herding the group to a boiling pit of acid. Leilatha cursed the King for making such a deadly trap, given no other options Leilatha began running towards the pit, flinging her swords ahead she pushed off and sailed over the hungry looking pit. Leilatha began rolling the moment her feet touched the other side, she scooped up her swords and turned back toward her teammates. Her mouth fell open, what in the world was Anvain thinking climbing one of the walls.
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Bliss frowned when Cutlass separated from the group, when in the hell was he thinking? Being alone in the labyrinth would kill him for sure, having a teammate by themselves wasn’t safe. Bliss sighed and then looked at Cutlass, trying to weigh the options with her mind, trying to think rationally and not just to save his life. Cutlass would have a greater chance of survival if someone followed but the person who followed would have their survival rate cut drastically. It wasn’t a good situation. She opened her mouth and got ready to do what she did best, talk him out of what he was going to do. It was a shame that she really never got the time to do so, the next second a wall cut them off. Her gaze shifted to her front, thanks to Dara's comment that snapped her back to reality. She tried putting her mind back in a neutral place, a second of thinking could be the second that killed you.
She backed up a bit, letting her body do the thinking. Time seemed to slow down as her body got used to the adrenaline rush and she could almost count every thump of her mind, if she were able to count. It was her favourite time in every battle, the time where her body seemed to fast to actually let reality catch up to her. She knew that realistically everything was still the same, but with the adrenaline rushing through her, telling her to fight, she felt invincible. It was a fine line between being too cocky and being too hyper, but the results helped her live.
She sprinted forward, leaping over the acid pit. For a moment she felt like she were flying until she looked down and that was when she panicked. The acid seemed to close to her and her nostrils filled with a rather rancid smell. She broke out into a fine sweat as she faltered, landing on the ground with a scream. She scrambled away from the acid that seemed to be killing her. She looked down, noticing a little bit too much blood along with raw skin on the center of her calf where it had fallen into the acid. She whimpered and closed her eyes, forcing back the tears that welled up from the pain.
She looked up at the others and felt stupid for being the only one who had missed the acid pool and groaned, tearing off a piece of her shirt that had covered her midrift and wrapped it around her calf, turning it into a sloppy bandage. It would stop the bleeding and prove to help out for the time being, all she would have to do is think of something other than the pain.
Bliss hoisted herself up with her arms, clamping her mouth shut so she wouldn't emit any noises and stood on her shaky leg. She frowned and looked at the others and then turned her face to the winding passages of the labyrinth that stood before them. Bliss didn't feel as lucky as she had felt before, in fact, today she felt **** out of luck.
"Let's just keep going, we'll hit the center soon enough." She said, loud enough for the other two on the other side to hear her.
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"Dammit!" Jacob yelled and turned around from the peep hole. "The gladiators have been separated,and.... we lost Sean." He said to the group in the cage. "The Centaur... Cutlass I believe separated from the group the second before a trap sprang putting two walls between him and the rest of the group. Anvain somehow managed to scale the wall and join Cutlass. After the walls separated them a pit of acid appeared that the gladiators had to jump over. Most are ok but Bliss seems to have some burns form the acid on her leg, and Sean.... he couldn't make the jump." Jacob punched the wall with a resounding crack bruising his knuckles in the process. He shook his hand and turned back to the peep hole. "Damn that ******* king for deciding to be "creative" for this fights event" Jacob said with his voice dripping sarcasm. He turned back to the peep hole only to notice the gladiators were being cornered by a minotaur and something else that stray that the king had picked up. He turned back to the healers and dragon "Dara, Bliss, and Leliatha have met the first minotaur, and Cutlass and Anvain are about the encounter that Niall fellow the king let loose... that is if he takes the right turn." Jacob shook his head in frustration. "This whole match is a damn mess". Jacob had lost gladiators before and he was used to it. More than likely he would lose this team and go on to another just like Sylvani did so often, but it still pissed Jacob off every time one of his gladiators died.
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Seans death cry could be heard behind the gladiators as the acid broke him down killing within seconds. Almost as if in response to his cry's of pain the gladiators could hear the crowd cheer in an almost lustful joy at first blood. Suddenly the crowd went silent in anticipation of something.Ahead of the group of gladiators that had just jumped the pit of acid there was a right turn for them to take. At least after they pass their next obstacle. Turning out of the right side passage was a minotaur. Its nostrils flared at the scent of blood and it roared at the gladiators as it flung its head from left to right. After looking at the gladiators for another moment it charged with its head down aiming for the obvious choice, the injured female, wanting to impale of gore her with his horns. His plan was to simply mow down the other gladiators in his way to get to her. They all looked too puny to stop him for he was a mighty warrior of his clan, and after he was finished with the wounded woman and the man he would take the female elf back with him for his own personal pleasure.
As Niall traveled down the left passage he wold be able to hear the roar of the minotaur as one found the gladiators. Down the path way there was a left and a right turn. If he listened carefully he could hear the sound of hooves down the right side passage and down the left there was silence choosing the right one could change his fate to a favorable one. With Cutlass and Anvain there was a straight passage with a right turn first and 10 yards further down the passage there was a left. If they were to listen very carefully when the crowd became silent they would hear foot steps down the right side passage.
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Gideon sighed at the healers response, he hated the difficult ones. As he flipped a lock of blonde hair out of his face he looked at the healer "Well then my friend" He said without his usual smile "I am going to need you to get up and exit the stands to your left please. I have a few associates that will educate you in proper business ethics of the arena... you know to help you understand what your passing up ." he pressed the wand tip deeper into the healers back to emphasize his point as he grabbed the vial of poison and slipped it back into his robe. "You may be surprised what money can do for you, and of course who knows. With a little incentive you may even do the job for free out of the charity of your heart." Gideon laughed at his own joke before pasting his usual suave grin on his face. "Well I believe the negotiations are done for now, lets get moving shall we?"
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Well... looks like he's a lying, two-faced, schemeing, no-good, rotten snake-in-the-grass after all, Kelyren thought grimly. Should have known he wouldn't leave me alone.
He glanced around, looking for a way out of this predicament. The spectators were caught up in the fight, and there was a good chance he wouldn't be heard if he called for help. Meeting Gideon's associates was completely out of the question. They'd probably beat him up until he caved in and accepted the deal, or kill him outright.
For a moment he considered leaping down into the arena, but he guessed that the fall would leave him an easy target for the beasts and gladiators down there. He also doubted that the fight would be stopped if he "fell" in, he would probably be added to the list of things to be slaughtered. To make matters worse, he estimated that the distance from the stands to the arena floor was enough to cause some not-so-minor injuries. If he landed wrong, it might mean breaking something important, and he wasn't going to take that chance just yet.
Maybe I can run, he decided. If I make it into a crowded area, I could probably lose myself in the stands, and he wouldn't be able to shoot his wand without running the risk of hitting a spectator. It's me he wants, not them.
Kelyren did not waste time on replying with a witty comeback or a snappy retort. He simply broke into a run, charging towards the most crowded part of the stands he could find, his heart pounding in his chest. At the first opportunity, he crouched lower, trying to dodge and weave back and forth as much as he could in case Gideon was shooting spells at his back.
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He leapt mightily across the pool of death, his breath sunken in as his mind raced absorbing all of the information his senses told him. For a small moment however it was not a pool of acid below him but a dark expanse, and around him were smoldering tapestries that gave the palace walkway an aggravated glow. For a small moment he was back there leaping across the broken walkway in their attempt to escape, for on the other side was a man who more than obviously resembled Dara’s own likeness with his hand extended to reach him. Dara’s younger arm did the same in his leap, the shout of his father ringing in his ears, “Grab me!”
His foot caught the edge of the arena floor, no longer in that crumbling walkway but back in now. Dara stumbled a bit as he rolled into the wall, but otherwise unharmed. He looked back to the pool to see who didn’t make it across yet, but to his dismay he witnessed two things that should not have happened. Anvain ignored the notion he was trying to instill within his comrades of moving together and scaled the walls without as so much as even trying to explain why! Sure, perhaps she did have a good reason for doing so, but if she could have done that the entire time you would have thought she would bothered to mention that, in addition that ability would have proven useful in surveying the enemy. The other occurrence was a tragedy, when Dara’s ears were split by a blood curdling wail of agony; he turned just in time to see the misshapen form that was once Sean’s face dissolve into nothing.
The draconic man was on his knees now still trying to comprehend what just happened. It played out in his mind over and over but the true gravity of it was simply unreachable at the moment. After a small while it was summed up into two words in his mind, I failed. He should have anticipated this, tried to prevent it, prepare for it, he failed as the leader he tried to make himself out to be and protect his comrades. They were now scattered, broken and worst of all he lost one.
He heard some whimpering behind him, and saw the Bliss was attending to an acid burn wound, another bright spot to add to their list of good fortune, now one of his remaining team members was debilitated. She urged them to continue on not even bothering to bring attention to her wound. Dara’s “plan” was to keep their numbers strong and even, but Bliss’s condition most made certainly fighting the beasts within the arena all the more difficult with out her full maneuverability. The only completely able body at his side now was Leilatha, and he knew that half the time they would be spending their energy covering Bliss when her new limitations presented themselves.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop. Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
Again a most unpleasant sound emanated from behind him, though this time he did not need to adjust his vision to know what it was as the beast announced itself in a bellow. Dara adjusted his body slowly to face it, somehow hoping that where his vision met it would not be what was the worst possible outcome of this moment, though he could not say there was much expectation in his inevitable disappointment. Its nostrils flared at them as it sized them up, Dara could see its gaze fixate on Bliss and he knew immediately what its target was, then it charged.
No, his mind proclaimed to itself in the most resound and firm tone possible. Too many things had gone wrong in his lifetime, too many times when all he could do was watch and let it happen, too many of his comrades had already been lost and he could do nothing. Not this time, this time fate would not take what was his, this time he would not let horror and loss come to pass, this time he was to look destiny in the eye and rip its ****ing throat out! He unsheathed his pitiful weapons, but that mattered not to him now, be they cheap iron or perfected steel, the draconic man roared back at minotaur and charged himself, and perhaps this was in direct contradiction to what he tried to tell Sean the previous day, but at least in honor of him he would not shy away, not when he was backed into a corner. The only way out was through that beast.
Though it wasn’t as if he thought simply coming at it would solve his problems, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fell such a massive creature with his strength, which is why his plan wasn’t to run it through, but something with a little more finesse. As soon as it was in range, Dara took a risky move and spat fire in its face, he knew however that the blast wasn’t nearly enough to kill it or even ignite the rest of it body, but in the least it would come as a complete surprise and debilitate it, just as Bliss was debilitated. Dara was still charging, but side stepped in time to avoid colliding with the creature, but not before he attempted to apply what he assumed was Gambrills advise and strike at the minotaur’s hind leg. His blade did bite into it but not deeply, only the epidermal tissue was harmed.
The minotaur was still charging at his remaining comrades, though perhaps with compromised vision, when Dara had passed him the draconic man turned heel in pursuit as soon as inertia allowed him too. It was his hope that the beast’s composure was compromised to the point to where his comrades would be able to take him on safely, “safely” being an extremely relative term at this point.
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The minotaur was somewhat surprised, but not displeased that the man dared to fight him head on. He would show this puny creature what a folly it was to challenge a minotaurs strength.The great beast waited as it gained momentum on its charge, and at the last second it lowered its head into ramming position to impale the man. Suddenly the creature only knew pain and a bright blinding light obscuring its vision. The beast continued its charge, trying to kill this man that hurt him so and faltered slightly when he felt not the satisfying sensation of impaling a man on his horns, but a painful sting on the back of his leg. This creature defies him.... how dare it hurt him so! The minotaur lifted its scorched and burned head up and picked the first target that crossed its blurry line of sight, he had lost the sight in his left eyes but he still had the right, which was the female elf. In its rage the minotaur forgot its prior plan to take the woman for his own. Now he just wanted to kill everything that may have hurt it, to destroy those that would dare fight back. The minotaur charged toward leilatha and gave a mighty leap in the air, his leg faltering slightly making him lose some speed, raising both fists high above his head planning to swing his fists down and crush the woman in a mighty blow.
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The Centaur had no intention of moving. If I stay here, barring anymore shifts to the landscape, I can either run with I see a minotaur, or I can stay here until I can figure out the correct path. All roads lead to the center… he mused. All roads lead to the center so regardless what path I take, eventually I will get there. Not that it guarantees me any sort of freedom, but the sooner this fight is over the sooner I can find something to itch the scratch between where the man meets the horse, he thought irritably. He tried flicking his coat, but while the horse part rippled and shifted, the part where the man was remained itchy.
He saw a blur of motion to his left and he darted forward before instinct faded and he was able to back up and barely managed to turn around. He saw the slender female elf, Anvain, standing. His sharp eyes, used to catching weakness, saw through her façade. He bared his teeth as he trotted back up to her. “Epona…” he said before he shook his head. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, clearly referring to her. He stayed a distance away so that he could see her properly. “This is not time to be…jumping,” he said though there was a dark humor in his voice, a touch of respect for the female elf. “Next time you feel like being a jumper, please consider dropping down, grabbing the wall with your hands to stop your sudden descent and then falling,” he said before he stopped. His head raised and his eyes narrowed as his sharp ears caught something. He sighed deeply before he lowered his head. “One has died,” he said, though he didn’t elaborate on how he knew it. The shrieks of the crowd just grew louder.
He looked at the female again and studied her hard. “When I get ready to move, I am going to run. If you cannot keep up, you’d best tell me now because I cannot look over my shoulder to see you. If you’re behind me, I’m blind in that area. My hearing is sharp but instinct tells me to run forward with my head raised so I can see best…” He quieted again as he lifted his head up. “Something’s different,” he said finally. Something….”
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Niall braced his hand against the wall and breathed out slowly. His eyes fell closed as he concentrated on trying to feel the vibrations. There was so much that the eyes missed. They concentrated only on what was right in front of them and tended to block out the other senses. His hearing, used to the wild forests of the north, was capable of hearing a fawn’s delicate hoof break a slender autumn branch or the snuffle of a boar as it dug for truffles. He was used to closing his eyes and relying on a sense that wasn’t his eyes. The broad man heard the roar of the crowd and he blocked it out. The crowd would do nothing for him expect prove to be a distraction in this game of a crazy king, where his God seemed to have forsaken him to see just what his follower could do. The roar dulled as he forced it back. He acknowledged that it was there, but he refused to allow it to drive him into a mistake. His eyes opened, determined as he stepped backwards until his back was pressed against the opposing wall. His right heel dug into the ground and he pushed off. He slammed his left foot into the wall, pushed upwards, forcing his right foot up higher as his hands grabbed for the top and pulled himself up. He braced himself on top of the labyrinth.
He stood like the proud Kings of old. The sun shone on his tattooed flesh, his shaven head was held high as he glared around those assembled. Then, the moment faded and he was back into survival mode. He crouched down and with eagle eyes, he scanned the path of the labyrinth, what he could see. The game started to be played in his head. Each twist and turn brought him to the center. The roar of the minotaurs reminded him of his opponents.
There was a crash. The foundation shook and ran up the walls. Knocked off balance, the proud slave slipped to the other side of the wall and crashed heavily. He caught a glimpse of a broad black back. “Drennin?” he gasped, recalling his mount before he fell from the other and fell for what he felt was an impossible distance for slipping off of horse. He hit the ground and in that instant, he remembered that his horse had been slaughtered the same day that he had been captured. He heard a shrill scream that was both the terror from a horse, and the anger from a man as the horse…
Not a horse… Niall thought as the creature wheeled around. Niall quickly back peddled. He had been born to a rich Laird, and the Lairds measured their worth in horses. Beyond that, Lady Yseult, the patron of Horses, had been working on his father’s estate. There was nothing that she didn’t know about horses and had been branching into helping retired centaurs before their world had been destroyed. “Whoa…whoa…” Niall said, keeping his voice low as he stood up. He had to ignore the pain in his groin as he tried to stand tall so that the Centaur could see him. “Easy…Easy…” he said. He stepped to the left, into the Centaur’s realm of sight. He knew that the creature was called a Centaur, but was anything but one. He held the creature with a healthy amount of respect. “Factultas…” he said in shock. They were rare in his country and he thought that they were extinct everywhere else. He wheezed as he leaned against the wall, as his breathe came back slowly. “What have they been feeding you?” he said. “You’re…you could… you make Drennin look like a regular Lady’s mount!”
Cutlass had the sense this time not to shy too far but kept himself between the female and the man that had fallen on him. His left front hoof kicked at the ground in agitation. Things falling on him where not improving his mood. Large, tattooed men that stank like swine and sweat only made him worse. Still, Factultas, the true name of his kind, spoken from the lips of a man that beneath the grime and sweat seemed to resemble the horse people of the north, did something to reassure the other .”Centaur,” he said finally. A name had power and he would rather not have it spread through the crowd that he was called something else that a Centaur. That there could possibly be a difference between the Centaurs of myth and what he was.
“Centaur,” Niall said before he gave a rogue grin. “Niall MacKelter,” he said. His voice holding a trace of the strong northern tone before it faded under a practiced guise.
“Cutlass,” the Centaur responded. He shifted slightly and motioned to the female to the side of him. “An Epona,” he said. Names had power, and he didn’t give them out to just anyone, especially not if the name did not belong to him. Who knew what sort of magic could be pulled for a name that was given out too often. The Superstitious mount felt that it was better to be safe than sorry.
Niall stepped to the side of the creature and ran his hands over the horse back, checking for any injury or soreness without asking for permission. A strong hand when dealing with stallions, be it the Factultas or the regular horses, was the best bet. His eyes flickered over to the small woman and he grinned again. “Hey there,” he said as one hand idly scratched at the spot on Cutlass’ back where the horse melded into the man. “You ready to move?” Niall asked her as he removed his hand. “Let’s get this fight over with before the King throws in a gorgon. Let’s fight that thing blind…”
“Don’t give him ideas,” Cutlass muttered as he braced himself. “Minotaurs are attracted to women and men. Born half man, half beast…” he paused. He was quoting what he had been taught at the hands of his first mistress. “Born of an ungodly union between man and beast, the beast could not gain substance as it should, and the man was not capable of getting substance as a man…so the liminal creature devoured man for substance,” his voice trailed off as he stepped forward. He was heading towards the center of the maze, where he hoped the rest of the team would be. He still stepped carefully, testing his weight so to not set off any pressure weighted traps and his keen hearing was constantly picking up stray sounds that he could quickly perceive as danger or not. “I always wondered why… liminal creatures would never devour the bull or the horse for substance,” he murred as the game continued on.
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Sylvani huffed quietly as Jacob reminded her that she was in charge of the healers. Inwardly, she was grateful for that because this was the first time that she was in charge of a group. She was used to healing a team by herself and not training healers beneath her. “I still would like to give him one good kick in the rump,” she grumbled, mainly to make herself feel better than for any sort of input from the rest of her friends. She bent down and picked up her child, hugging him tightly and kissing the top of his head as Pandora spoke with Gambrill, winning his good graces, though it truly wasn’t hard to get onto the dragon’s good side. She reached at to scratch at a spot behind his front leg as he continued to speak.
She listened intently to Pandora. She heard that the woman was good with dragons, seen it with Dara and was seeing it in greater force with Gambrill. All of that was accounted for and stored in the woman’s mind, to be pulled forth in case she needed to pull it out again later. She was trained to retain information while giving very little away. Of course, as she jostled Erryn and smiled gently down at him, it was a bit hard to not give away her biggest secret. With his spots, and his pale coloring, it was clear what his parentage was. “Hm…” she said to Pandora, indicating that she had heard the woman. Tomorrow evening, Gods forbid we don’t have other fight to prepare for, you can come spend the evening in my room and we shall see what we can do for him,” she said. She was tired from healing Gambrill. The Dragon’s spiritual hurts made the healer in the Aubade female ache to heal him, but she could only do things in stages. Even as Erryn nuzzled against her and gently fed her some of his magic to replenish his mother’s, it would never be enough to heal the dragon completely, and the only reason Erryn could give her some of his magic was because they were mother and son, and a mother’s magic was nearly identical to their child’s, until the child grew up and lost his/her innocence.
Sean is dead…
Jacob’s words washed over her and she gripped her child a bit too tightly, enough for him to squirm and protest until she lessened her grip. “So soon…” she said, her voice becoming cold. Inside, she was working through what could have happened in the ring. His death, a loss to the team, was something that she processed internally and did not allow to show on her face. She would mourn for the fallen gladiator and pen his name into her book. Every person on her team that had died, she kept in a book, and the book became volumes of text, all written in a strong hand. Each strike of the pen was another mark against the king.
She moved with Erryn and cleared her throat, indicating to Jacob that she wished to peer outside. If he allowed her, she would not look towards the fight. She would seek out the King, and the cold anger in her heart would boil and threaten to melt the icy mask, revealing the powerful fire within, but she stepped back before she could do that and kept holding onto her son. “Gambrill, Pandora…” she couldn’t smile, any smiling was past. “I am thankful that you are both safe and…”
Erryn squirmed from her hold finally and darted back to Pandora, holding onto her leg. He knew his mother’s shift in mood better than anyone.
Sylvani looked at her child, the reason why she fought, before she looked back to the pair. “and…I hope that this fight will soon be over so I can…” she amended quickly, “we can heal the gladiators and work past the loss of Sean.” Her back was turned to Jacob. There was nothing she could say to him that would help him, and there was nothing he could say to her that would allow her to expose the anger and pain she felt at losing another. “There is another gladiator in the field,” she said as she worked through what she could. “Pandora, if you could take charge of: Dara, Leilatha, and Cutlass… I will care for this new gladiator, Anvain and Bliss. Kelyren…” she tried to temper her voice. “Will learn at our sides until I deem him ready to heal on his own.”
When Pandora revealed she had worked on dragons before he couldn't help the smile that came across his rough features. So that meant there were others of his kind left in the world? He was ashamed to say he knew very little about his own kind, the culture that went with them, the bonds they were able to form, he only knew he hadn't seen another like him in all his time of traveling from arena to arena, battlefield to battlefield and sideshow to sideshow.
Rumbling softly, he closed his eyes and enjoyed her caresses while he listened closely to her. It seemed she wanted to tell him more about his kind, at least that's what he pulled from her statment of wishing to speak with him further on her knowledge of dragons which he would be eternally grateful for. "You may come to me anytime you wish to speak Pandora." His voice grumbled out while he kept his eyes closed as she continued to pet him, only when he asked him questions about himself did he open his eyes and look to her and chuckle. "I haven't been asked that in so long, let me think for a moment. Hm, ah, three-hundred is my age I'm sure of it and as for how long I've been here it's been thiry-five years. That isn't very long at all if you consider my age." He grinned towards her and shifted his mass about to get into a more comfortable position, an action that those who knew him well would know he was gearing up to tell a story, a favorit past time of his. "You see before this, I was actually used in a war far from here and-" Stopping his sentence short at the sharp cry from the arena, Gambrill knew what had happened before Jacob had even told them.
The calls of the beasts, the cry of pain, he could pick them all out with his keen hearing and he ignored them in favor of not worrying but when the large human's death cry had hit his ears it stopped him short. It was so early in the match and they already had lost one, that is how it happened though. No matter what you think or how long your fighters should last, they were always taken too soon. Sean was now the lucky one, the others were still left with their fearsome opponents and from the sounds of it had already locked in combat with at least one of them. His eyes flicked over to Jacob as his anger boiled, not doubt blaming himself for not training the man hard enough or something equally silly as that and then his eyes trailed to Sylvani as she silently grieved the loss of yet another. Huffing a soft sigh he moved his tail and first stroked the top of Erryn's head then moved on to wrap it around Sylvani's fingers. He was aware that such touches wouldn't heal hurt instantly but when such affection was rare to you, he had come to equal soft touches as a healing factor for physical and mental wounds so it was like this everytime one was lost to them. "Sean is now free." He would gently touch and utter that phrase to her or to Jacob, although the man would pratically flail away from Gambrill the times he ever tried to comfort him in such a way.
The chains rattled as he shifted himself yet again, moving his tail away from Sylvani and waiting as Pandora and her agreed on their plans for after the match before he spoke once more. "So, before this arena, I was on the battlefield for many years. They used me for aerial attacks." From here he rattled on about that war, a distraction is what it was, mostly for Erryn who had been frightened by his mother's sudden shift in mood but for anyone else present who wished to even be half distracted from the arena for just a moment. His ears were trained on the arean though, listening for signs of what was happening and knowing that Jacob would inform them of any drastic changes.
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Gideon sighed when the young healer ran. "Why do they always run" he mumbled to himself as he leveled the wand at Kelyren. "debellate!"he yelled as the wand responded instantly to the trigger phrase shooting out a dull gray beam. The magic missed the healer by a hair, striking the man next to him making the by-standard collapse in a heap. "Dammit!" Gideon exclaimed as the man collapse and Kelyren disappeared. No one in the crowd seemed to take notice of the man collapsing. It was fairly common to have people come to the early morning matches getting completely intoxicated and passing out in the stands and most just assumed this is what happened. Gideon gave an exasperated sigh as he flipped blond locks out of his eyes and took off after the healer. He thought he had lost Kelyren until he spotted the man. He wouldn't be able to hit him with the wand without taking out a large number of spectators. His boss wanted this job to be as inconspicuous as possible so he decided to wait and bide his time following Kelyren until the proper time to strike.
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Leilatha was so engrossed in observing Anvain’s reckless behavior that she did not realize Sean missed the leap across the acid pit. Only when he began screaming did she realize what happened, her first instinct was to jump in and save him, but the sheer improbability of such a move stopped her. Instead she crossed both swords over her chest and gave the barbarian a warrior farewell. The team had just lost a brave gladiator. As Sean disappeared in the acid a loud thumping sound reached Leilatha’s ears, twirling around she caught sight of a Minotaur the beast was more fearsome looking than she could have imagined.
Drawing both swords out from her body, Leilatha prepared to advance shoulder to shoulder with Dara and Bliss. The beast seemed to have very little patience for he lowered his vicious looking horns and began to charge straight at Bliss, who seemed to have acquired a burn on her leg. Dara took the initiative by breaking from their protected triangle he seemed to be planning a full attack on the Minotaur, a death wish to be sure. Instead the draconic man breathed a jet of flame directly in the monster’s face, making him veer away; Dara also was able to get in a cut on the beast’s leg.
However now the Minotaur was enraged and injured making him an unpredictable opponent, when he turned his sights on Leilatha fear washed over her. Dara was too far away to help and Bliss was still recovering from the acid burn, Leilatha would be facing the enraged beast on her own. As the Minotaur grew closer he gave a mighty leap into the air, raising his fists his intention of crushing the elf was clear. Leilatha saw only one choice, with her back against the acid pit she could only run straight toward the Minotaur. Leilatha ran forward and at the last moment fell to her knees intending to slide underneath the Minotaur, while sliding she raised her sword and sliced at his uninjured foot. The cut felt deep to Leilatha, a small victory she rejoiced until the other hoof came arching over and slammed right into her face opening a large gash above her left eyebrow.
Leilatha came to a stop behind the Minotaur, she attempted to stand, but her head was spinning and her legs refused to cooperate. A crimson flow began cascading down from the cut blocking the sight from her left eye. Not that it mattered she was too dazed to even turn around, she hopped his speed and injured legs would make him tumble into the acid pit, or at the very least make him unbalanced and vulnerable to being critically injured by Bliss and Dara.
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Anvain looked sheepishly at Cutlass, “I didn’t want you to be alone.” She did not want the centaur to know she had given into blind panic and simply run away. Anvain also heard the dying cries of someone, but she did not want to know whose they were. When asked if she could keep up Anvain wanted to reply yes, but her fear of being left behind was greater than her pride. She still tried to keep a bit of dignity as she said, “I think it might be best if I were on your back, that way you can be watching to the front and I can watch the sides and rear.” Anvain wanted to inquire what Cutlass sensed, but her answer came in the form of a man falling onto Cutlass’s back. Barely having time to scoot out of the way, the man slid off and landed in a heap.
Anvain was grateful that the Centaur stood in front, the man seemed to have black flesh in swirling designs across his body. She recalled seeing similar markings on a band of people that had passed nearby Anvain’s forest home earlier that year. Anvain gently petted a portion of Cutlass’s tail, she had never been near a horse let alone a centaur, the texture was rather interesting.
Keeping her sword slightly raised in case the man was intending to attack them, she reluctantly moved to Cutlass’s side. Anvain nodded when Cutlass introduced her as Epona, “You may call me Anvain.” She told Niall quietly. Anvain kept her distance from the man, though it seemed they were in the same predicament, she was sure Niall would kill them both to save his own life.
Anvain did not care for Niall’s forward ways; he simply walked over to Cutlass as if he were a normal horse and began feeling the centaur’s back. She felt the man deserved to be kicked for such a gesture. When Niall turned his gaze to Anvain, she dropped her eyes in a deferring manner. If Cutlass accepted the man, so would she. It would be better if they worked together in fighting the Minotaur and later they would figure out Niall’s role in their group.
Still keeping her eyes down, she replied “Yes, I would like to leave this horrible place quickly.” Anvain clambered clumsily upon Cutlass’s back attempting to replicate the movements she had seen used by humans. Once properly seated, she listened to Cutlass share his knowledge of Minotaurs. Anvain did wonder if Minotaurs would eat elves and not just humans.
As the three began walking Anvain’s curiosity overrode her suspicion of the man and she could not help but ask him about the markings on his body. She especially wanted to know what dye he had used to make them so well defined.
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Kelyren heard the ominous thud of a body hitting the ground and cringed, almost tripping over his feet. He tried not to look over his shoulder at the poor innocent victim that could have been him, had he been a slower runner.
This guy's serious, he thought as he tried to blend into the crowded stands. He's also crazy. He must really want me.
He squeezed his way onto one of the seats, making sure that he was surrounded on every side by people, and scanned the crowds for Gideon. For a moment, Kelyren thought he had lost his attacker, but he found his hopes dashed upon seeing Gideon making his way closer.
Looks like I can't hide from this guy. Kelyren glanced around, taking note of his surroundings. There had to be something he could do... Perhaps he could flag down the guards and tip them off. Maybe he could stay where he was and stick with the crowd until after the match, and find some way to make it to the healers' quarters without being attacked.
He pretended to watch the match going on, though in reality, he was keeping a close eye on Gideon and looking out for passing guards.
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The elf was fast, to fast. The minotaur swung his fists down in a fast arc only to one again receive a deep numbing pain on the back of his leg. He his the floor with a resounding smack as his leg gave out sending him sprawling towards the acid. The beast checked its momentum at the last second preventing its fatal tumble into the deadly pit. As the minotaur recovered it turned around ready to charge again when its leg collapsed under it. The minotaurs damaged leg was useless as was its left eye. It would not be able to charge, barley even being able to walk, but it would try and crush any that came near it, wildly swinging its fists and doing its best to grab any and strangle the life out of this, with its great strength. Its greatest weapon was gone but the arms of a minotaur are far from weak.
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As Blackwell watched the fight his eyes grew from their happy white to a dark and foreboding black. They gladiators were disrespecting his labyrinth... it was insulting to see them just hop over the walls of his great construct; this would just not do. The king leaned to his left where one of his magician guards stood "Do something to prevent those slaves from ruining the game by jumping over my walls, and I want it done now. The magician looked at his king with dead grey eyes and nodded. They had been trained from birth to serve the king and all disobedience or thoughts of their own lively hood had been washed away. They were the perfect servants, and the perfect mages. The battle mage started a chant under his breath in a soft soothing tone of voice almost as if singing. After a few moments of this musical spell casting the mage hit a crescendo and quieted waving a hand towards the arena. Seconds later a fine mist began shimmering above the labyrinth. "The deed is done sir, they cannot pass above the top of the labyrinth wall." The kings eyes shifted to gray as he sat back in his chair "Good now they can get the full experience of my creation."
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The healer stopped and started to watch the game. "He must have seen me by now... what is he playing at" mumbled Gideon. The master wanted the gladiators on this healers team dead for some unknown reason and Gideon being the humble servant that he was did not complain when he was sent on such a lowly mission as this, but the master was extremely persistent on the fact that the gladiators must die so the assassin decided to give it one more try. He stashed his wand inside his shirt and held his hands up in the universal sign that he was unarmed. As he neared he started talking rapidly so as to get his message across before the healer ran again. "Ok you don't want money.... thats fine so how about I offer you something else. My master he is an extremely powerful man and he has accesses to some of the strongest mages ever born. Some say that magic can do anything, even raise the dead. From the sounds of it you lost someone dear to you in the past and most likely you miss them something fierce. So... Here is my final offer" Gideon slowed his speech down and spoke so that the healer heard all of his words "What if I for your payment we bring those loved ones back from the dead.... you said money cant bring the dead back, well I am willing to disagree. So do we have a deal?" Gideon stuck his hand out. He had palmed the poison vial in it so if the Kelyren decided to take the job he could take the vial without anyone noticing. "Last chance for a once in a lifetime deal"
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Cutlass, Niall, Anvain
The group could hear a slight rumbling to their left and their right as dust sprinkled over them a second before the walls started closing. They would need to move fast to avoid getting crushed between the two massive wall. As the walls start closing in on them the nearest passage to the left became shut off. They would have to take the right path 50 yards down in 7 seconds.
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Jacob raised an eyebrow and move to the side as Sylvani requested to see out of the peep hole. He realized that it wasn't a good idea to let her see the king but he would not deny the woman. There was a tense second as her hatred started showing on her face before her cold mask was set into place again and she turn away. The trainer nodded his approval and turned around to watch out the hole mulling over what he would do to the gladiators to keep something like Sean's death from happening again. He knew that there was barley any time to train these gladiators before their first fight but he still felt partially responsible for their deaths when they finally expired in the ring. His job was to make them as ready as they could be to fight and win, and today he didn't do his job no matter how limited his time was. Now was not the time to be retrospective though. He had to watch the rest of this fight so he could evaluate all the gladiators individual skills. He would put them through hell if they lived through this fight, and he would mold them into the perfect fighters. Jacob listened as the dragon tried his best to sooth Sylvani and started telling stories of his past. Jacob would never admit it but if anything the dragon was a good story teller and the trainer always enjoyed listening to its tales.
After a few moments of watching the gladiators fight the minotaur the giant bubble in the sky switched to a view of Cutlass, Anvain and the new gladiator. Jacob turned his head "The new gladiator seems to be friendly enough, at least he hasn't attacked Cutlass and our little forest elf." As he turned his view back to the peep hole his eyes widened for a second in surprise. "Another trap has been sprung! the walls are closing in on Cutlass and the rest. They need to move fast to make it out of there." He returned his view to the peephole once again and grit his teeth in anticipation as he watched. He didn't need any more of the gladiators to die, the more that died the harder the next fight was for the rest of the team. "Move dammit!" he mumbled as if the gladiators could hear him.
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The Centaur was strangely touched when Anvain said that she didn’t want him to be alone. He couldn’t figure out if she meant it or not, but the sentiment, the words… meant quite a bit of him. “I will do my best to keep you safe,” he said finally. He took his words seriously as he looked back up the walls. He shook his head before he looked back to her. He heard her offer to ride on his back and he stiffened a bit, but he knew that he could move faster if she did. “Yes, that would be best,” he said with a sigh as he tried to hold himself still.
Of course, Niall’s arrival stifled her immediate mount. He looked skywards, wondering of the Patron or the Goddess was looking down on him. It was no secret that he hated having people on his back. It was a bit demeaning for him, especially since he was a liminal creature. Thought it was difficult for him to figure out Anvain’s voice tones, he just had to trust that she didn’t mean to insult him and would still treat him kindly, as she had been.
Cutlass shifted when Niall’s hand went to the small of his back and there was a slight look of pleasure on the centaur’s face when that damnable itch was finally scratched. He saw that Anvain looked a bit apprehensive of the new person, but the way he figured it, if Niall knew where to itch… he was fine in Cutlass’ book. He looked down the path and tried to figure out what he should do. “We need to move with the rest of the group,” he said finally. “We’d be stronger in numbers,” he did admit though he’d rather just be out of the claustrophobic place completely. He saw the mist settle and he sneezed as the magic settled. “Fun,” he said with a sigh. He held still for Anvain as she clumsy got onto his back. “It would be best if you held on around my wais---“
He was cut off as the walls started to move and for once his instinct would prove true. Without looking to Niall, the Northern Slave leapt onto his back, held onto Anvain and steadied himself as Cutlass bolted forward. He surged down the open path and felt the wall close on the end of his tail. He pulled free and gave a pained noise. He needed his tail and now it was shredded and missing quite a few of the hairs, still he kept running. He only slowed down when safety tempted over instinct, he went to a trot. He wasn’t breathing hard as Niall slipped from his back and patted his side. He was just embarrassed now that his tail was hanging limp and thinned out.
“I will lead now,” Niall said, his thick brogue was easy to the Centaur’s ear. He stepped slightly in front of Cutlass and to the left of him. “Anvain,” he said, looking towards the elf, “if you would watch Cutlass’ back for him. Cutlass, I need you to stay focused and warn us if you sense anything wrong,” Niall dictated. He was trying to figure out how to play to everyone’s strength. “Now, let’s get out of here…”
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Sylvani looked out of the peephole and studied the king. “He’s a spoiled brat,” she grunted as she turned away and went back to Gambrill. She sat down against him and leaned against his side. She used his warmth to temper her coldness. Still, her words were very short and cold as she talked mostly to herself. “Ugh. Every time that he snaps his fingers, someone is there to kiss his ring or flatter him. I’d like to see one person tell him that he is a self-serving, pompous arrogant…” she bit down on her tongue so that she didn’t keep talking. “He has so much blood on his hands. I hope his gods destroy him when he finally dies,” she said.
Erryn listened to his mother as she spoke and he kept holding onto Pandora. He crept back up to Gambrill and petted at the dragon’s leg, not able to reach too terribly high. As the dragon kept speaking, he listened but his eyes were focused on the other two adults. He moved away from the dragon again as he wandered up to Jacob and reached up, taking the man’s hand. He stayed there, still watching the others as he sought to comfort the ones around him. He slowly started to feed warmth from his hand into Jacob’s body. He was a white magic user, like his mother, like most children with magic were born to be. He tried to find Jacob’s hurts so that he could soothe them, not understanding that grief was a hard pain to heal.
Sylvani saw the worry on her son’s face before she opened her arms back to him and whispered her apology. He came to her, after looking up at Jacob for a moment before he returned to her and curled up in her lap. “Jacob,” she said, looking up and confused. “Is there any sign of Kelyren? He’s keeping out of trouble, I hope.”
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Kelyren forced himself to keep a straight face as he heard Gideon babbling to him. How many times do I have to tell this guy to **** off?! he thought angrily, about to give the man a piece of his mind - until he heard the bit about raising the dead.
He paused, considering the offer, old memories of his twin sister resurfacing to the front of his thoughts. He remembered the last time they had spoken, the argument and the silence between them that had resulted. He remembered watching her enter the arena, the battle between her and the monster twice her size, the blow that had fatally injured her, his struggle to heal her with skills that were too weak to do anything, holding her hand and promising her that everything will be alright as she died.
If I accept his offer, I won't have to be alone any more, he realized. I'll have my sister back... she'll be alive again. And Gideon will give me money. I can buy freedom for us, and we can leave this accursed arena for good.
"Alright," he said hesitantly, his voice catching in his throat. "I'll do it."
Kelyren paused, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. The suspicion that the offer was a trap still nagged at him, and he would not ignore it so quickly - what if he carried out the orders, only to have Gideon withhold the reward for him? "But you have to bring my twin sister back first. I'm not going to do it until I see her alive and talk to her."
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Most people may have been unnerved by the trap being sprung, about nearly being crushed between two walls, but not Niall. The feel of adrenaline pumping through his veins was a sweet nectar that the proud warrior relished, and escaping the trap felt like a true accomplishment for him, despite the fact that Cutlass was the one who had done all the work. Cutlass, a being he did not think he would ever see being placed in the arena for his kind was better suited for the races or bred for attraction. Of course, this creature was far larger than any he had seen and could only respect him as the warrior he would be in the arena. As he took point at the front of their group, being sure to remain in Cutlass' line of sight to avoid putting him on edge, he thought of the small elf that was with the group.
She was a small thing, truly small, in fact, that was the only real observation he had made of her when he had first seen her. Small. And yet, she was set to the arena as a gladiator. He was hoping this small package packed a large punch, for she seemed intent on remaining on the centaur's back, whether for strategy, injury, or simple fun, he could not begin to fathom. “Well, wee Anvain, we will have plenty of time to discuss myself once we get out of here,” he said, not turning his gaze from the front, being the eyes for the creature behind him. He tried to keep his brogue as well masked as possible, knowing how difficult it was to understand his words. A chill ran down his back and a glistening shown overhead allowed the gladiator to make the assumption that magic was being put to use. Though he could not determine the sort of magic, he was sure it could only be used for ill.
He continued on down the path until they had gotten to another fork and he paused, recalling his sight from on top of the wall and the proper direction to take. “Left. We shall arrive at the center sooner. Anvain, keep your eyes sharp. Cutlass, we need your instinct,” he reminded, the weak sword held before him as he ventured down. His eyes remained on the path and the walls ahead of him. He would be more than happy to discuss with his new teammates about himself, hear their stories, what have you. But as it were, they had to survive, and idle chit-chat would do no good. He recalled the bellow of pain from a beast elsewhere in the labyrinth, and could only assume that the first group had encountered one of the monstrous beasts they were to face down. “There must be at least one other for us to face. They will be top-heavy. Take out the legs, mind the horns, and try not to make eye contact,” he informed, moving forward in preparation to launch into an attack the moment the opportunity presented itself. He knew that if he could trip the great beast up, the Cutlass could succeed in trampling it, or in the least, vaulting himself over it with the right direction. Anvain was a mystery to him. He knew little of what good an elf could do first hand and could only speculate on the stories he had heard of their kind and their capabilities.
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Leilatha had done it! Sort of, the minotaur’s greatest asset, his ability to charge was gone; the old dragon wasn’t just babbling irrelevant things after all. However the nasty thing was still flailing violently, its last stand against an unprecedented enemy. Dara scowled deeply at the humanoid beast, he saw as it the true form of the king, a personification that the man hid behind a pleasant face and charisma. For a small moment the draconic man tried studying the manner of the minotaur’s “defense”. He didn’t want to risk striking at his arms with his flimsy swords, yes it would most certainly wound it but Dara had no idea if his weapons would break in the process, death tools he would need later on. He decided on attempting to thrust into the beast, timing the swings just right avoiding the mighty arms.
Foolishly Dara thrusted at it with his left only to have his arm captured in a vice-grip by the minotaur. The gladiator attempted to break free and found that the oils Pandora gave him were making it easier to slowly slip out of the grip, but the minotaur quickly compensated, the increased force earning an audible grimace from Dara. It bellowed in his face, and raised its free fist high to deliver an at minimally concussive blow, however the beast forgot it wasn’t the only one with a free hand. The pitiful blade in Dara’s right hand proved its worth as it sang through the beats flesh, the fist it had raised turned into an open palm. Its eyes bulged from shock, and the grip around the draconic gladiator significantly was reduced, enough for Dara to slip away easily.
But he wasn’t finished, oh no, his mind flashed images of event both recents and otherwise, mostly on the image of Sean. How he died in a fashion that did not befit him in any justification, how he knew the man that would have much more preferred to be felled by this thing in front of him then by a sadistic trick, a cowardly trap made only to facilitate cheap entertainment for the indulgent and the weak of mind. A rage boiled over Dara that was familiar but until now had no proper outlet.
Now he found one.
He bellowed back at the beast and assaulted it with repeated brutal stabbings to its abdomen in his murderous rage, not bothering to count how many times his weapons ripped through another piece of the minotaur. The beast made shallower and shallower grunts and groans from each strike, and when Dara finished, his left blade still impaling its gut, crimson liquid was dribbling from its mouth and nostrils. The draconic man stared into its deadened black eyes and had a hard time telling weather it was still alive or not, not that it mattered, for the gladiator’s face formed into menacing grimace as his right raised its blade to the sky. It came down and flew through the flesh of the minotaur’s neck, the head falling backwards into the acid, a plop then sizzling could be heard as a decent amount of crimson spurted into the air for a few seconds. Maintaining the scowl on his face Dara then raised his foot in position to the midsection of the decapitated beast, his left sword still impaled in it.
In one swift, merciless motion the draconic gladiator thrusted his foot onto the body, propelling it off of his stained sword and into the pit of unpleasantness, dissolving into the nothing it deserved in his opinion. He uttered, “Good ****ing riddance.”
The adrenaline finally started to die down as his senses returned out of their heightened state, at least for the moment. Dara stared at the pit a somber expression now replacing the scowl that was on his face. It did feel good to rip the beast apart but…Sean was still dead. You could tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that the real one to blame was the king and that there really wasn’t anything he could have done, and he did blame the king however the weight of responsibility was still put on his shoulders. By assuming a position of command it is essentially a promise that he was the best suited to guide them out of this nightmare, to protect them from the unforeseen and lead them to a better life, the life promised to his family upon realease. True, he could never guarantee that they would all make it or that he himself would, but what would they think of him now that their strongest member was gone, and he could do nothing to stop it? How could they trust themselves to him when he was just as frail, just as unsure and vulnerable as they were? What reason did they really have to put faith in him and what right did he really have to tell them what was best for them?
Because no one else can, he thought. None of them were leaders; none of them had seen a leader, someone to assure them they could pull through, someone who could bring them through the loss and pain, someone who had seen what a real leader could do first hand…He may not a perfect one, and in truth perhaps there was someone out there who could do a phenomenally better job than him, but he would be that person for them or die trying…which was likely.
Dara uttered to the wind, “Vinult thurirl, dout dastudr jahus kashora.” Hail friend, your strength was appreciated. Strange, to think that beyond being a prisoner for blood-sport his only connection to the barbarian was a language that he often took for granted. He learned from his father many things, how to fight, his moral compass, but his heritage was something he neglected interest in, whenever his father attempted to tell him stories about his ancestors he shut it out, feeling the past had nothing to do with him. Yet there they were, two strangers from vastly different cultures, yet united by some sort of merger of them sometime in history. Darastrix Dastudr made a mental note to inquire Pandora what she knew of dragons and draconics, perhaps in some way he would gain something he had pushed away, a part of himself he never tried to get to know well enough. A regret he would make right.
Sheathing his stained blades he turned his attention back to the remaining comrades with him, Bliss seemed to be holding up well enough, he and Leilatha had made sure the minotaur didn’t go anywhere near her vicinity. It was then his attention became suddenly focused on the elf woman, she seemed to be in a dazed state and had blood dripping from her above her eye. The gash didn’t look too severe but what concerned him more was the possibility of internal injury, mentally kicking himself for not coming to her aid sooner. He had seen the minotaur go over her and the injury she received, but at the time he was more focused on destroying the enemy then on his own teammates’ welfare. Dara grasped Leilatha by the arm bringing her up to his level and asked, “You ok? Nothing shaking loose I hope. I…kinda need everyone in as many whole pieces as they can be right now.”
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Her luck hadn’t felt her luck go downhill that badly in such a long time, because before her brain could even process the pain that her calf kept on giving off, the minotaur soon arriving. She wanted to cuss but didn’t dare as she felt its dangerous gaze land on her. In that one second a thousand thoughts passed through her mind, some of them had been memories of when she had been younger, others had been thoughts of her killing others, desperate for survival and the consistent buzz of her father screaming at her. He had trained her well and much like everything he had bothered to do for her, he had done it well. He had briefed over minotaurs for a small period of time and Bliss could hear his words screaming in her ear, not that she could barely even register it. His breath reverberated around her and for one small second, the wound on her leg was forgotten, all of her focus was on the obscenely large creature.
And then, it charged. Bliss wanted to scream but it suddenly got stuck in her throat. Her muscles locked up in ways that she would hate herself about later, if she actually happened to get a later. But she wasn’t as stupid, nor nervous, to not be able to brace herself with her daggers, it wouldn’t stop the thing but perhaps she would delay it. If anything, she would injure it to make it easier for her teammates to bring down in the case that the minotaur would get its wish and she got impaled. But, fortunately for her, Dara saved her sorry ass. He jumped out in front of her, and for one second she saw a fire in his eye, one that looked incredibly mad, like he was fed up of it all. She smiled, not that anyone would ever see it, perhaps not even the audience, and he breathed his fire. She still remained incredibly impressed about that and now she was even more, now that it had actually managed to save her. She sighed and watched as Dara blurred to the back of its legs, slicing it’s Achilles tendon. She took no more hesitation and tried to hop out of the way, grimacing as her calf had to take her weight. She looked down and noticed the neatly cauterized wounds start to bleed through the bandage. With a grunt she hoisted herself up, favoring the other leg, a thought in the back of her mind hoping that the healers would actually be able to heal her.
Bliss thoughts turned as she heard some more fighting and she turned, Leilatha now being the one to fight the minotaur, sliding gracefully under the minotaur, something she hadn’t even thought possible. Apparently Leilatha had quite a bit more up her sleeve than she had let on, much like most of them. But the elf was smart, something Bliss was glad to have in the team. She then proceeded to cut the beasts foot, they were kicking the things ass. She shuddered and tried to move, perhaps to go help the minotaur out but found out that she really wasn’t able to put any pressure on her leg. She shut her mouth tight, not wanting to cry out and let her teammates know that she was that badly injured, she didn’t want to avert their attention. Bliss turned around and undid the bandage, tears brimming in her eyes as it took pressure off the wound. She wasn’t able to see much except that the wound looked substantially larger than it was before. She watched as her skin sizzled around it and continued to eat into her calf and the thought struck into her mind, the acid was still eating around her calf. She cussed, she really needed to get out of their as soon as possible to get it healed and for the acid to stop eating around it.
She noticed that Leilatha had obtained wounds too and Bliss winced as she saw the blood flow down the girls face, hoping that it wouldn’t scar for her. But she tried to block the blood out as it was starting to make her dizzy, in fact, she hadn’t even noticed Dara rid of the minotaur himself, she was feeling strangely light headed and odd, almost giddy. She giggled for a second before she turned over to look at Dara and Leilatha, who had now grouped together for some reason, Bliss was way too uncertain about that right now.
“You guys make a greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeat couple.” She slurred, the blood loss making her stupid and unforcused, her gaze landing on the two of them. She started to fumble around with the makeshift, blood filled bandage once more, trying to tie it back up with her spotted gaze. “Like seriously . . . you guys needa make babies, lots of them.” She giggled at her own thoughts of the two of them having children before she leaned to the side, trying to bring herself up but instead failing. She cussed some pretty colorful words before retrying once more, the attempt successful this time around. She balanced on her good leg and the only right part of her mind at the moment told her that she needed to lean onto something if she needed to walk, perhaps a branch.
After taking the left fork in the path and walking for a distance Niall's team would come upon a large stone door the resemblance of a horned demon carved into it. After a few seconds the demonic carving on the door begins to speak to the gladiators. "Ye who seek to pass by me state your true name" The carving on the door somehow managed the act of cocking its head in examination of the three gladiators while they answered his request. "If you have answered me truthfully brave warriors then answer me this riddle and pass, you have one try each... In my left I hold war, in my right I hold death, in my soul the power of a god, and in my eyes are the blackest rage. Who am I?"
Dara's team has the choice of traveling to the right. After taking the right path they would come upon a large carved door with the resemblance of a winged angel carved into it. After a few seconds the angelic carving on the door begins to speak to the gladiators. "Ye who seek to pass by me state your true name" The carving on the door somehow managed the act of cocking its head in examination of the three gladiators while they answered his request. "If you have answered me truthfully brave warriors then answer me this riddle and pass you have one try each... I was born naked twice. In bondage once and as a god the second. I need not a family because I am above such things. In my eyes I have the cleansing color of white. Who am I?
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The Assassin gave his most charming smile to Kelyren. Their is always a catch, this boss will be hard to convince of this one he thought as he grinned. "Do not worry my friend, all will be taken care of." The blonde flipped the hair out of his eyes and cocked his head at the healer in thought. "I will have to speak to my boss but I am sure that all will be taken care of. Shall we shake on it?" Gideon put his hand out. "I always like to end my business transactions with a friendly hand shake" He said with a purr in his voice. whether or not the man shook his hand Gideon had to leave fast. The boss had him on a tight time schedule and he didn't like to be kept waiting. Luckily if anything Gideon was fast and knew his way around a crowd.
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Dimitri leaned forward putting his chin on his palm as he watched the gladiators finish off the first minotaur his anger subsiding and his eyes changing from black to white with his mood. "They can fight fairly well" he mumbled to himself deep in thought. He held this thoughtful position as the centaur, barbarian, and elf narrowly avoided being crushed by his trapped walls. "Fast too, but how well can you brutes think" he spoke to the gladiators in his silky voice as though they could hear him. "Can you solve my ingenious riddle... or will your fragile mortal life be extinguished like a candle flame between my fingers". The king leaned back into his chair comfortably as though he had answered the questions he had pondered "Survive and serve my purpose gladiators, survive and be rewarded by serving me." Blackwell grinned at his own personal joke as he waited to see what the gladiators would do.
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The trainer looked down at Erryn with confusion as he felt a tingle throughout his body feeling his bruised knuckle heal. The child seemed to be trying to heal him though he had no injuries to fix. Jacob cocked his head at the child before recognition dawned on him as to what Erryn was trying to do. He was worried about Jacob and was trying to make him feel better. The old trainer felt a bit of sorrow that this child had to grow up in such a horrible world. He squashed the emotion down though and patted Erryn on the head before he ran back to his mother. "you have a good child, I believe he will be a man of great integrity when he grows up" Jacob said as he looked back out the peep hole. "Daras group finished off the minotaur and are stopped at some door... they see to be speaking to it. The same for Cutlass's group, they avoided another trap and are also speaking to a door." He turned at Sylvani's question after giving everyone an update about the gladiators. Jacobs eyes lit up as he remembered what he had forgotten before the fight "Dammit! Sylvani listen carefully. This morning I was late for the fight because I was called to a meeting by one of the kings high advisers, at least he was an adviser until a few days ago. His name is Dukove Valance, He had been insulted and dismissed by the king for some disagreement they had dealing with my gladiatorial team. Why the king is taking a personal interest in my team I don't know but because of the argument Dukove feels insulted and wants to get back at the king. In my meeting with his servant he tried to convince me to somehow sabotage my gladiators so they would die in the next fight, but I denied his servant and insulted his master. The servant said something that make me worry that he will try and turn one of your healers against the gladiators." Jacob paused to collect his thoughts and continued "We need to get to Kelyren now before one of his men get to him. I don't know the boys moral compass very well but Dukove can promise much to those willing to listen making it hard to deny him. In all the commotion of the fight I had forgotten about the meeting completely." The trainer was angry at himself for forgetting something so important. Jacob was a proud man who rarely apologized for what he did but this was a major mistake on his part "Forgive me for putting your healers at risk, we need to move now to ensure his safety." Jacob started heading towards the door not waiting for other to follow.
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Anvain had been extremely excited to sit upon the centaur’s back; she admired the view and wished she would never have to get off. She leaned forward to thank Cutlass for his generous offer, when suddenly the walls on either side of the trio began to approach. They would be crushed! Niall did not hesitate to jump up with Anvain, he held her tightly about the waist as Cutlass unleashed a blast of speed. They made it through, barely, but there was a casualty of the desperate sprint, the Centaur’s lovely flowing tail had been shredded as the walls slammed together.
Niall nimbly dismounted and looked back at Cutlass and Anvain, she nodded in agreement discussions of their past were better done once they were outside of this death trap. Sensing the man was giving her an appraising look; she lifted her chin and pretended she was not frightened out of her mind by this entire ordeal. Turning around as far as she dared, Anvain watched the Centaur’s back it was the least she could do for him. She kept her flimsy blade away from Cutlass, fearing she might cut him on accident. Anvain decided if they encountered a Minotaur she would fight from the ground.
The trio did not have to wait long to encounter another obstacle, a giant door carved in the center a hideous creature stood leering at the gladiators in malicious glee. Anvain was more shocked when the door began to speak; it gave the gladiators a riddle. The elf began to sweat in fear, she had been in this strange land for less than a day and had not the faintest idea what the riddle was asking. She looked to Cutlass and Niall, hoping they might be able to determine the solution.
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As blood began to completely obscure Leilatha’s vision she fought to remain upright and awake. Her head was throbbing and her limbs felt weak, she faintly realized Dara was the only one fighting the Minotaur. Bliss had taken to limping around and had even frozen when the beast turned toward her, Leilatha would have attacked Bliss, cowardice one thing unforgiveable in Leiatha’s mind. But she seemed to be set in marble, unable to move or even utter a word.
Some unclouded part of Leilatha’s mind heard the Minotaur’s death howl and she managed a small smile of victory, he had done it. Dara was a true warrior; he had protected his team and killed the monster. He had earned the tough elf woman’s respect. Suddenly she felt a strong hand on her arm lifting her up on wobbly legs, as Dara’s face came into view filled with concern; Leilatha tried to give him a reassuring look. But it was more likely she appeared pale and unfocused to the draconic man. “We need to keep moving, some of us aren’t in the best condition.” She said, as her eyes slid over to the crouching form of Bliss.
Clumsily she shoved one of her swords in her belt, it had suddenly become very heavy in her left hand seeming to gain weight with every step she took. Placing her sword tip in the ground with each step helped her keep balanced, moving slowly but surely the haggard team reached a massive door. Leilatha stared grimly at the Angel carving, the irony was not lost on the dazed elf. When the Angel began to speak, Leilatha assumed she was hallucinating. The carving asked for their names and the answer to a riddle. Thinking the best way to get out of the hallucination was to play along, Leilatha blurted out the first thing that came to her mind, “My name is Leilatha Esta Nym and it is King Blackwell that you speak of.” She wiped at her head again, some of the previous blood had dried but more continued to drip down. At least the bleeding had slowed.
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Kelyren did not return the smile, he was starting to feel a slow, burning hatred for Gideon. He wanted nothing more than to punch the man's smile off his face. The only thing stopping him from acting on his impulses was the knowledge that the guards would be on him in a flash if he attacked Gideon. You changed your disposition pretty damn fast, he thought furiously, clenching his hands into fists. One moment you're trying to kill me, then you're a smiling, smooth-talking slimeball.
"I'm not going to shake on anything," Kelyren stated flatly, starting to feel suspicious of the other man once more. "Not until I see my sister in front of me, alive."
If those mages could bring her back. Kelyren did not believe that resurrection was possible, especially when the one being resurrected had been dead for months. He was beginning to regret jumping at Gideon's offer so quickly, wishing that he had spent a bit more time thinking about what the other man was saying.
"Go run home and talk to your boss," he growled, cursing his hastiness and lack of judgement. "And remember. Give me my sister first - alive - and then I'll uphold my end of the bargain."
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The stone angel gave a delighted smile at Leilatha and bowed as a small doorway appeared inside the larger stone door "You and your friends may pass with the kings blessing gladiators". Inside the door way was the center of the maze. Around 1500 square feet with a minotaur standing in the center of the room wielding a great axe. A roar could be heard from the background as suddenly a second minotaur charged in busting through a door on the far side of the room. The minotaur was far larger that its companion and wore a mail plate on its chest. With a mid sized battle axe in each hand it was a formidable foe.
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Gideon held up his hand in an apologetic manner "Ok ok I will go to my master and bring word of our deal as soon as I can. Now my dear healer, I must bid you adieu". The blonde assassin bowed to the healer before stepping into the crowd and disappearing. Dammit though Gideon as he navigated through the crowd. The master would not like having conditions put upon him but of course it would be the most efficient way to dispose of the gladiators besides outright having them murdered. Being one to prefer a quick easy assassin mused over the idea of taking out the gladiators himself before dismissing the idea. There was just to many of them, and the master seemed to have a personal vendetta for some reason so it was best to follow his wishes. Gideon shrugged and flipped the blonde hair out of his eyes before leaving the coliseum. It seemed that he had his work cut out for him.
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An eyebrow was raised by Dara when Bliss began slurring comments concerning him and his elven comrade, rather confused as to where she got off making nonsense of them having children together. Not that Leilatha was unattractive, it was simply a thought that had never crossed his mind and never would have if it hadn’t been for his other companion’s words. It did immediately become obvious, however, that the injury she received from the acid was more extensive than he first observed, confirmed in the vocal observation by the comrade he was currently holding steady. Leilatha seemed to put on a brave face and righted herself, showing she no longer needed the draconic gladiator’s support.
Bliss on the other hand still looked to be in a fog and was barely able to keep herself balanced, so wasting no time Dara took her arm and wrapped it around his neck, serving as a human crutch for the time being. “Just hold onto me, this’ll be over soon,” he said. Dara wished he had any sort of medical practice beyond bandaging but sadly he didn’t, and that was a task already performed by Bliss, so he could do nothing for her.
He then reevaluated the situation in order to execute the best available option. So far there has been one confirmed death on his team, and a power player at that. Two other members were either separated or AWOL, and the remaining two in his sight had earned debilitations from the last few minutes, making himself the only overall healthy team member he could account for. There were two more minotaurs on the loose within the labyrinth, and although the one they encountered bore no armaments there was no guarantee the others wouldn’t.
Their best bet now was to regroup with Anvain and Cutlass, though Dara had to consider the possibility that by now one or both of them were dead, in which case the remaining haggard three were truly on there own. Dara also couldn’t forget the wild card gladiator thrown into pot, although it was stated that he made an attempt on the king’s life there was no guarantee that the man would be on his team’s side. For all he knew the man was even more savage the Sean was and only got a lucky shot at the sadistic monarch, but the draconic man did hope for the best, thinking that either the gladiator had dispatched one or both of their opponents (unlikely) or would side with his team or even both scenarios.
Based on their streak of luck however, Dara was not one to put much stock into that outcome.
The gladiator and his remaining team made their way through more of the labyrinth, the path halted by a strange door with intricate carvings of an angelic figure. It spoke! It asked for their names and the answer to a riddle that it promptly gave them. Dara didn’t like the sound of it, he was no dummy but he wasn’t the best puzzle solver in the world, luckily Leilatha had solved it with ease. Good to see we have people who are good for more than just fighting, he smiled at his thoughts.
But of course the universe had seen fit that no amount of happiness he received no matter how minute and minuscule would last for more than two seconds.
The door permitted their passing, leading them to what Dara would realize as the center of the dreadful maze. His heart sank as he saw an armed minotaur standing at attention within its epicenter, and no sooner had he spotted it, ANOTHER ONE came literally crashing into the playing field, and was even more heavily armed, more vicious looking, and if possible even more huge than its comrade. In summarization Dara promptly audibly cursed, “****. My. Life.” The greatest scowl anyone on his team had ever seen was so plainly visible that Dara could bet that Blackwell himself in his VIP box could see it without the use of magic images.
He let go of Bliss, hoping she had recovered enough to at least stand on her own, and unsheathed his weapons. Addressing his team mates he said, “Ok listen up. Good news is we have a lot more room to move around this time, which should give us an advantage we didn’t have before. Bad news is that standing still at all will probably get us chopped into bits. Remember, their legs are the weakest point, exploit that at any given chance. Bliss, I’ll probably need you to throw your knives at those legs as soon as you get a sure shot. I should also advise neither of you to count on my fire-breathing, at most I only have two blasts left in me, I won’t fire unless I’m sure I won’t miss. Everything we do or don’t do counts.”
Dara inhaled deeply, his eyelids drooping for a moment before returning his visibility in his exhale. “I won’t lie to you; this would be hell of a lot easier with some back-up. But I swear, though I’ve already lost one team member I don’t intend to loose anymore today.” The draconic man steeled himself into a battle stance, foot forward, fists clenched on hilts, heart racing, and golden eyes ablaze with draconic/human fury, “Or ever again.”
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Bliss, with many thanks to Dara, was standing again. The case of vertigo she was currently suffering from would make her giggle if she was in any other situation, but this one did not. She tried to gain her wits back to herself because she knew for a fact that her head, still feeling rather light thanks to the scary amount of blood that she was losing from her leg. If she knew anything about anything, she would be able to tell that the wound itself wasn't that bad. The acid was still eating through her leg but it was nothing that would cause her to lose her leg. In fact, it would still not be bleeding if she hadn't scraped up the neat wound that had been cauterized. It was still nothing to laugh about but it wasn't the worst injury she had ever sustained. In fact, the healers, if they were as good as her last ones, which was more than likely, would have the leg healed up rather quickly.
But, of course, Bliss knew nothing about that so it never popped into her head. She just leaned on Dara, trying to take down gulps of fresh air, focusing on the pain to try and bring her normal self back. The rest of the world just blocked out of her mind and she tried to just calm herself down, remembering some breathing exercises that her father had taught her. She tried those out and started to feel the fog leave her mind as she increasingly came down back to earth. It was something of a rather sweet relief but she couldn't count herself perfectly fine yet, no, Bliss was just good enough to put a decent fight out and then crash once she got to the healers.
She winced as she put more and more weight on it, her mind becoming blank when the angel asked the question. Her mouth popped open but she shut it when Leilatha figured it out with no more than a simple blink. Bliss grinned, there was a lot more that she wanted to know about the girl if they managed to get through this thing, something that Bliss was increasingly becoming less confident about. The state that she was in now depressed her all the more, she had been so happy about her daggers.
The door creaked open and Bliss frowned as a minotaur stood proudly in the middle, the giant axe making the thing look much more menacing than it should have. She wanted to die just then but she shrugged off the feeling, she needed to get rid of the feelings of hopelessness, she would beat them. She tried to push her optimistic attitude back on herself but it proved to be more than a little hard, especially when the new minotaur showed up.
But that was all Bliss needed.
She grinned as new adrenaline pulsed through her veins, her neck hair standing on end. Thanks to the fear and adrenaline her body was producing, she was faced with her fight or flight option that it always gave her. And as always, Bliss took the fight one. The newly found energy her body gave her was tremendous and it let her forget about her leg briefly as her will to survive was suddenly boosted, her mind seeing the predicament she was in. Her chance to survive was suddenly slim to none but she wouldn't let that get in the way. She reached down and pulled the dirk out of her shoe, the other two daggers resting in her left hand.
"Leil, Dara, the big one will go slower, once he charges your way, I'll get a good throw at his ankle. It'll slow him down hopefully and then I'll do my thing, I'm probably the quickest her with my rush right now, despite my leg. Dara, Leil, you guys finish him off and I'll move onto the next one, slowing him down too, sound good?" She asked, her voice slurring a little bit. She knew her plan wasn't the best and could have been greatly improved but Bliss had never been one for perfect planning. In fact, it was more than sloppy but it would help her live, she always did and she wasn't about to die now. "Good luck!" She said with a two finger salute, her grin still resting on her face, she needed to do this, no one else was going to die.
Of course, her logic still had some good points, the bigger they were, the harder they feel. It always proved right in her books and she hoped it wouldn't fail her now, she just hoped that the other minotaur would stay confused long enough for her to get a good throw in after she got the bigger minotaur. She tried to balance the dirks weight in her hand, getting used to it as she aimed for her throw. She ran to the side a bit, limping despite her rush as she tried to get a lock on the minotaur.
It charged.
She threw.
She watched with a great sense of fear, not knowing if it actually managed to hit home. But her victory cry was enough to let the whole audience know that she hadn't, at least she still had that. Bliss mustered up as much courage as she could and took off in a mad dash, planning on slicing it's other ankle before she threw her other dagger at the other minotaur.
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The bigger minotaur charged at Bliss in a rage as she moved first, but when she threw he knife the minotaur suddenly pulled up short mostly avoiding the blade and only receiving a nick in the process. This minotaur seemed more intelligent than the other two not blindly charging its enemies in a rage, but instead attacking more cautiously. These gladiators shall fall by my blade just like all the others, I shall win this fight and acquire my freedom thought the great beast as he started planning out a strategy. When Bliss charged him the large minotaur stepped to the side and swung his axe in a horizontal swipe trying to decapitate her. While this was going on the smaller minotaur charged the other two gladiators with its axe held high focusing on the elven woman. Its primal thoughts were nothing more than to chase the elven woman down kill her and and taste her sweet flesh, and it would stop at nothing to achieve its goals.
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Leilatha had gaped in shock that the doors opened before her; it proved that despite her head injury she had still retained her elven ability to solve riddles. However her excitement quickly turned into horror at the sight of a Minotaur with a battle axe standing ahead of the trio. They equipped the beast!?! Leilatha glowered and cursed the King’s name under her breath, and then of all the horrid luck another Minotaur stepped out from a side passage. Thankfully he was weaponless, but now the haggard group had two monstrous creatures to handle and if their first battle was anything to compare to this. They would be hard pressed to survive the next few minutes, forget about winning the fight.
Giving both her comrades a nod of appreciation for their company, Leilatha listened to their ideas about attacking the creature’s legs. It seemed like a good plan, they had killed the first Minotaur using such a strategy. Bliss threw her knives; one lightly nicked the axe-wielding Minotaur’s leg he charged at Bliss. Leilatha thought she caught a gleam of intelligence in the creature’s eyes, but her attention was drawn to the first Minotaur it charged at Leilatha and Dara. There seemed to just be mindless killing in this one’s eyes.
Gathering the last of her strength, Leilatha shouted to Dara “Go help Bliss, I can handle this one!” With that she turned around and began to flee from the approaching Minotaur. Timing would be everything. She hoped the beast would think she was running into a dead end and decide to pursue her. The Minotaur quickly gained ground on the exhausted elf, completely out of sight from Dara and Bliss, she hoped the other two could handle themselves. One way or another the Minotaur would not be returning, Leilatha was determined to kill it.
Right before impacting upon the wall, Leilatha placed one foot and then another on the wall till she was halfway up. She turned and pushed off the wall, the landing was almost perfect she had a foot on either side of the Minotaur’s shoulders; though he shook mightily he could not dislodge the determined elf. Seeing her chance she grasped her remaining sword in both hands and plunged it downward with great force. She intended to bury it into the beast’s shoulder and then have it continue down into his heart.
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When Cutlass and Niall remained silent, Anvain took it upon herself to solve the riddle. “In my left I hold war, in my right I hold death, in my soul the power of a god, and in my eyes is the blackest rage. Who am I?” Though her lack of experience and knowledge of the kingdom made it difficult to think a logical answer, one thing did help her; she had heard earlier that this labyrinth was the King’s own design. He was a warrior and had defeated many in battle. Unable to think of anyone more like the riddle Anvain slid from Cutlass’s back and slowly approached the demon carving she kept her borrowed sword ready.
“My name is Anvain Koravelki and you are King Blackwell.” Anvain’s heart beat frantically in her chest. She feared the other two Minotaurs were just on the other side of the wall, waiting for their next kill. It was pure luck Anvain, Cutlass and Niall had not run into one of them yet.
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The smaller minotaur cashed thrashed in surprise as the elf woman landed on him. He flew into a rage a split second later trying to throw off the elf woman but not succeeding. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain at his shoulder, it was a sword passing into his body. In a last ditch effort the minotaur reached back and grabbed the elf woman flinging her off his back. The creature did not stop to see where the woman went as he stumbled away his vision clouding over. Then he hit something large at his back...it was alive and angry. It was the other minotaur, its brethren.
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The eyes of the demon on the door widened for a second in surprise before his features turned into a scowl. "You have passed, but do not expect to succeed in the future for I shall crush your will and your spirits under my thumb soon enough." The demon smiles a toothy grin before bowing. A smaller door opened up on the demon allowing access to the center of the arena. When the gladiators enter they will see the battle going on between Dara's team and the minotaurs. The door will open up around ten yards behind the large minotaur.
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The large minotaur brandished his axe, ready to do battle with Bliss and barely felt the knick of Leilatha's knife when it was thrown. Its focus was split between the gladiator in front of it and the others doing battle around it. No, these humans wouldn't surround him and take him so easily he would make sure of that. The only thing that tore his focus for a moment was one of its own as his smaller counterpart stumbled backwards into him. He bellowed in rage at first then the scent of its brother's blood hit his nose. The runt was injured and dying, no reason to let him suffer and impede this battle for freedom. Reaching up with one massive hand, the larger of the two grabbed one of the smaller beast's horns and with a sharp tug to the side and back a loud snap was heard as its neck was broken and then it crumpled to the ground. Heaving a snort, the gladiators remaining opponent tossed his head in a show of aggression before raising his axe once more in a battle ready position. He would win this fight and finally be free of this hell hole, then and only then could he begin to think of a way to get back at that wretched King Blackwell who he knew was responsible for his and his brethren's torment here.
Cutlass trotted down the narrow pathway; every so often he’d stop and sneeze as the magic that now draped over the labyrinth was tickling his nose. His eyes narrowed when they came to the talking wall. He snorted and his ruined tail flicked in indignation. He was about to give his answer when he started sneezing again. It left Anvain with the ability to give her answer; thankfully it was the same one that he would have gave. He didn’t care that she was being snarky or that they were unable to do anything more than just follow straight into the heart of the labyrinth. He hung back. He was fairly certain that there were no foes behind him, because of that, he would prove to be a greater asset hanging back than he would charging forward. With Anvain off of his back, it gave the centaur free reign to appraise his adversary. Cautious and willing to take the time needed to make sure that he would be able to find the best mode of attack. He may not like being stuck in the ring, but he wasn’t about to give up his dream of green pastures and sweet hay. He took a steady step forward; the ground seemed to remain firm under his feet and he stepped to the side. It was a practiced move done in shows. It allowed him to keep his foe within his realm of sight. Niall, he figured, would be more than able to defend himself.
The young Centaur looked down at his shoddy weapons before he cast them aside. He was never meant to have human tools in his hands. He didn’t create them; legally he wasn’t allowed to use them. The last thing he wanted was for his teammates to be punished because they armed a centaur. He slid the braces from his strong forearms and cast them away. He had no bow and quiver, bracers weren’t needed. There wasn’t time to do anything else. With one last sneeze and a whispered plea to his goddess Epona, he shifted quickly to the side and took off running. He allowed instinct to take over. Horses generally ran, it was herd mentality but he wasn’t part of a herd and his entire life had been leading him up to that rebellious act of charging into the fight. The Minotaur was his target and while the creature was far larger than the others that had been destroyed, Cutlass was not a small horse. He had greatly outweighed the other Minotaurs and seemed to be better fit to be the enemy than to be a friend. He didn’t charge straight at his opponent. There was no waiting to see what the Minotaur would do. With a full 2,500 pounds of muscle barreling around the track, the Centaur locked and focused on the other. The breastplate gave him no pause, for he wasn’t aiming for it. He wasn’t looking to stop and kick, though he found the idea strangely humorous. What he needed as the team to distract, for someone to do something until Cutlass could do what he was infamous for. Rearing up, striking out with those razor sharp front hooves and slamming all of his weight down on whatever back part of the minotaur that he could reach. He was aiming for the shoulders and back of the neck and if that didn’t work, it should have still hurt like a…
and if he died…well, surely there were greener pastures in Epona’s world.
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Anvain drew back at the demon’s threat. Were there going to be future fights like this? She shivered at the thought. Once the stone walls parted Anvain was given a full view of the battle within. Bliss seemed to have an injured leg and was hoping around bravely, Dara was unscathed for now, but Leilatha and Sean were missing. Suddenly a smaller Minotaur staggered from around a corner ahead a sword buried in his shoulder, as he approached the larger Minotaur he seemed to stumble and collided with his larger brother. Instead of showing tenderness to his mortally wounded brother, he grasped the other’s head and broke his neck with ease.
Anvain was beyond horrified; her legs began to wobble underneath her. What would the giant beast do to the gladiators, if he was willing to execute a fellow Minotaur in such a way.
Holding back tears Anvain rushed to Bliss’s side, how she wished for her Mother’s healing gift. As she examined the girl’s wound Anvain was greatly relieved to see it was superficial and it was unlikely to impair her movement later, once healed by Sylvani, Pandora or Kelyren. “Do not worry Bliss; your wound is not life-threatening. It can be easily fixed with healer’s magic.” She spoke quietly to the gladiator hoping the lone Minotaur would not take notice of the crouching pair.
Anvain stood up, her face set in a determined line. There would be no more death here if she could help it. The small elf dropped her sword and spread her hands wide in a non-threatening gesture. She slowly approached the Minotaur; she disregarded his axe and the other gladiator’s shouts of protest and shock. She bravely opened her mouth and addressed the Minotaur. “Mighty Minotaur, there is no reason for us to fight each other. You have not caused us injury or insult nor we you. I was recently captured from the far western forest, so I cannot pretend to know the suffering you have endured in this arena.” The elf could not read the Minotaur’s expression, but she knew it could save one of her fellow gladiator’s lives to have the beast on their side. So she continued, “Who do you truly hate? Is it the one that forces you to fight against scared and weak victims? Would you not rather fight against your oppressor than the other’s that he oppresses? Please I ask that you relinquish your weapon, as few we are weak. But as many….” Anvain let the questions dangle in the air while she looked into the Minotaur’s eyes wanting, needing him to understand.
It had been very reckless and bold of the elf to speak about the King in such terms, but her life in the forest had been one of tolerance and unyielding principles to protect and show kindness to even the smallest of creatures.
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Bliss was the closest gladiator to the minotaur so he chose the easiest route and made to swing his axe and make his first kill. Before he could land his killing blow the sound of loud hoofbeats mixed in with all the other noise came to his ears. No more of his brethren were here, they were all dead now were they not? Shifting his eyes he saw the centaur as it came barreling around and the minotaur turned to begin facing Cutlass, his attention toward Bliss and ending her life forgotten. This one was much more of a threat than the others, he was larger and larger meant more dangerous in his mind. With a growl he readied himself to do battle with his new opponent until yet another sound caused him to flick his ear towards the source. Someone was speaking calmly, that was odd enough for him to at least pay half attention to the voice while his eyes stayed on Cutlass but that was before he heard himself addressed.
Mighty minotaur? That was him, wasn't it? Truly confused, the large beast turned his head as he unwisely now disregarded the centaur to figure out which one of these pests was foolish enough to speak to him. Much to his surprise it wasn't one of the males or fiesty females but a weak looking elf. This was ridiculous, they put such castaways as this in the ring now? However she did have enough bravery to actually approach him so he would grant this small thing a slight pause to listen if only for a few seconds before quickly killing her. The female spoke longer than he thought she would though and his patience was growing thin. She used such large words and phrases that it angered him and he bellowed loudly towards her, picking up his attack ready position again as his eyes scanned for the centaur he had forgotten. Her last words though, oppress and oppressor, they were daunting words to him but he knew them well. She had asked why he fought them and not against the very one who kept him here. Did she not understand? To get to the King he had to fight whatever was put in front of him! Logic was undoubtedly not his strong suit but he did comprehend as few you are weak but as many you are strong. This was true, yes, but was she suggesting he wasn't strong himself? With yet another bellow he pounded a fist to his chest to show her he had his own strength. Why would they ever side with him? Their kind always locked his species up. They were forced into mazes, pits, arenas, whatever cruel idea struck their fancy. All minotaurs were merely shows of terror or guard dogs but he would be the first to have true freedom and use it to his advantage. "Hush!" He bellowed toward her in a guttural and broken sounding voice. "You will trick me. We fight! No talk!"
Tossing his head about as he snorted, he once more put on a great show of aggression to strike fear into his opponents but made no move to actually attack. Despite saying they would fight and not talk he seemed to be waiting for Anvain to make the first move. Had her words actually struck him more than he cared to admit to himself? Either way the crowd was getting antsy as they impatiently waited for more carnage. They called for the beast's blood, his back was turned and his attention was stupidly on the least threatening opponent in the arena. The masses shouted for any of the gladiators to take advantage and make a move so their blood lust could be partially satiated. Their calls were answered when the centaur struck, taking advantage of the minotaur's distraction. He bellowed in pain and surprise, his knees almost buckling with the weight of the hit as blood trickled down from his shoulder. He knew it, a trick is all it was! Turning quickly he swung his axe out in an arc hoping to hit the centaur but stopped short and grabbed the injured shoulder as it was jolted from his movement.
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Leilatha had thought her death was assured when the hairy beast had flung her. Instead she landed hard on her back, cracking several ribs on impact, she lay there for several long moments waiting for the beast’s face to obscure her view and end her life of endless torment. When he did not appear, she mustered her remaining strength and sat up, instantly she became dizzy and barely turned her head in time before she vomited the entirety of her breakfast. Her face wrinkled in disgust. What kind of warrior losses their breakfast so easily? Someone who is weak and deserves to die. Leilatha knew there was no room for weakness in the arena or in the life of a gladiator.
She wanted nothing more in that moment than to lie down and surrender to the pain that pulsed over her entire being, but she would always be a fighter and she refused to abandon her team. With almost supernatural determination, Leilatha began to put one hand in front of the other clawing her way to the fight. Her left side lagged badly and she had trouble feeling the left side of her face. Minor details it seemed, for when she caught sight of the tiny Anvain standing up to the beast, weaponless and alone. It triggered something deep within the jaded elf, perhaps a dormant mothering instinct, or a primal desire to protect those of the same species.
Whatever it was it gave the near spent elf strength to stand up and drag-run across the distance, almost without slowing her charge, Leilatha wrenched her sword free from the smaller Minotaur’s body. It seemed to be the perfect opportunity Cutlass had just struck a blow to the axe-wielding Minotaur’s shoulder, he swung his axe trying to catch the Centaur but the arc was cut short as he went to clutch his shoulder in agony. Anvain seemed to be carved in stone, she had not moved since Cutlass’s brilliant kick. Foolish child! Leilatha thought angrily. As she began to shout for her to get out of the way, an idea began to form in her head. It was true the small elf was in a very dangerous position, standing so close to the monster. However, Leilatha could use this chance opportunity to step on Anvain’s back and pierce the Minotaur’s throat in one smooth movement.
While the Minotaur was busy watching Cutlass with his angry black eyes, Leilatha used her last remaining strength to take a running leap, she placed one foot on Anvain’s back, pushed with all her might and Thump! She had badly miscalculated her landing, for she was now wrapped around the Minotaur’s neck. The sight would have been almost comical had Leilatha’s life not been in peril, his expression quickly changed from confusion to murderous rage. When his lifted his head to look her in the face Leilatha took the opportunity. Sliding her sword into the space between his chin and her body she used her full weight and leverage to pierce his neck. She only stopped her thrust when she could see the sword tip protruding from the back of his neck.
Leilatha breathed a sigh of relief. She had done it, the beasts were dead, and the gladiators had triumphed! They would all live to see another day. Exhaustion suddenly overwhelming Leilatha, forcing her to release her death grip on the creature’s neck. As luck would have it she landed directly on Anvain, who had just begun to right herself after the first incident. Anvain’s face was roughly shoved into the dirt when Leilatha impacted into her, she lay there stunned and choking on a mouthful of blood covered sand. Leilatha practically unconscious was glad she had a soft landing; completely unaware Anvain was now pinned underneath her.
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King Blackwell watched closely, his eyes glowing white, as the gladiators struggled against the minotaur chief; giving a carnivorous grin when the gladiators succeeded. "Perfect!" He said as he stood up from his chair and walked to the edge of the balcony he was observing the fight from. He laid his hand on the arena masters shoulder "Lets finish this fight up shall we?" he said in a cheerful tone as the image in the sky once again turned to the kings face. "Wonderful!" his voice boomed over the coliseum "Did you enjoy the blood my loyal subjects?". The crowd roared their approval "Should we get some healers to these brave warriors?" the sound from the stadium rose to a roar as the citizens cheered even louder. "Guards! take the gladiators to the healing room and let these brave warriors rest!" Suddenly the walls of the labyrinth disappeared as the gates to the coliseum floor opened up letting in 20 armed guards. The lead guard walked up to the gladiators and signaled men to help the injured warriors who could not move on their own. A few of the solders disarmed the gladiators taking their swords before the warriors were ushered out one of the gates and into the healing room.
After the gladiators were out of the arena the king turned around and started walking out "The show is yours again arena master" Blackwell said over his shoulder as he signaled for his mages and guards to follow. When out of ear shot from anyone but his trusted followers he signaled for the captain of his guard lord Logan Gyre. Lord Gyre was a monster of a man standing at a massive 7'8" with 400 pounds of muscle to full him out. He keeps his head shaved for intimidation and his beard long and unkempt for the same reason. He was a notorious fiend taking whatever women he with the bad habit of drinking copious amounts of ale and flying into a rage destroying the tavern afterwards. Some say that he wrestles minotaurs for a hobby though no one has ever seen him commit such a feet everyone believes that it could be true due to his weapon of choice, a freakishly large 5 foot long 3 foot wide great sword that even three strong men could not pick up though Gyre weilds it with ease. Many say his strength and size are due to magical enhancements given to him by the king. As the massive man walked up beside his king he gave a quick bow before speaking in a surprisingly sober tone "My lord what do you need?" Blackwell grinned at the man "Contact the Minotaur tribes and tell them their leader has been slain in a fair duel by me. They now are bound by honor to follow me as their new leader." Lord Gyre looked at his king in confusion "Sir forgive me for questionin ya but did you not say the minotaurs were from king Minos?" Blackwell gave his trade mark grin "Yes I did say that didn't I... well the two small minotaurs were from kings Minos's stock but the large one, well he had been invited to come and meet with me about his lands being invaded by some of my troops or some such nonsense. When I asked if him and his people would serve me he was not very cooperative so I had him thrown into the games. Either way his people will now serve me because I have defeated their leader in fair combat."
Gyre grinned showing some of his black teeth "Yer a bloody genius sir."
"Yes, yes enough with the flattery go and send my message and have the Minotaurs body prepared to be shipped to his people"
"Right away Sir" Gyre saluted before running off.
When the captain was gone Blackwell stood tapping his foot in thought for a moment "Now how about we go see my little pawns shall we. I'm sure by the time I get there they will be healed up and ready to meet their king" With that Blackwell set off towards the healing room his eyes glowing a joyous white.
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Jacob ran out of the dragons cage and sprinted up into the stands looking around frantically for Kelyren hoping that the boy hadn't been attacked by anyone. By the time the fight was over Jacob spotted Kelyren. "There you are, dammit your hard to find!" he exclaimed "....tell me you didn't run into anyone suspicious did you? There was something I forgot to tell you healers before the fight started. There is a powerful man looking to hurt the gladiators , and his intention is to do so through you healers so watch out for anyone ok." suddenly the king announced the gladiators were being brought to the healing area. "Damn no time to chat. Come on boy we have to go" the big man said as he abruptly started off towards the healing area though stopping long enough to glare at Kelyren "Oh and if I find you are trying to kill my gladiators...well I'll leave it up to your imagination, Now lets hurry I'm gonna tear those gladiators a new one for doing so poorly this damn fight."
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From her own personal box, Jordan watched the fight unfold with bright eyes. It was always a joy to see the newest gladiators in the arena. Of course it wasn't because she was thrilled to see what tactics they would come up with to side step danger or how adept they were with their weapons, oh no, it was much more what she say visually that appealed to her. The muscles, sweat, and blood were all very alluring to the princess and this was the prime time to pick out which man, or woman, she wanted as hers to toy with for the time being. To be honest there were quite a few that caught her eye in this group and she had never had a centaur before but goodness would that be exciting.
The moment the minotaur chief was slain a disapproving frown settled across her face, not because she disapproved of the blood or death of the beast oh no but more so because this meant a win for her father which was something she wasn't the least bit pleased about. Oh well, there were still other factions and creatures that resisted him so he wasn't yet all powerful although he certainly liked to believe so. Pushing those thoughts from her mind she once again returned to thinking about the gladiators and who she wished to have. There was the centaur, that large foreign fellow, the dragon man and of course the elf who had shown quite bravery in dispatching not one but two minotaurs. Oh choices, choices, choices! Biting her lip in thought, she rose from her chair as her two guards and two mages followed suit. Her thoughts only stopped when she saw her father and she hurried over to him after plastering a pleasant smile to her face. "Father! Did you enjoy the fight? It seems you did from the look in your eyes. I was wondering, would you mind if I went to take a closer peek at our new gladiators? I thought a hello from the princess would give the poor warriors a boost after such a hard battle." Blackwell looked over to his daughter with a partially raised brow and a knowing look in his eye. He wasn't any fool and knew what his daughter truly wanted but it was honestly of no concern to him. "Why of course my dear. In fact I'm on my there now so feel free to follow me." Returning his daughter's smile his head snapped to the left as he heard Gyre's voice calling out to him. "Sir! I need to speak with ya about the shipment." "Hm, very well I'll be there in a moment Gyre." Looking down at his daughter once more he knew he could at least trust her to relay information to the gladiators in his stead. "My dearest can you inform the gladiator named Dara, he's the dragon born I believe, that he has been named the crowd favorite? Oh, and, give him my congratulations will you?" Yet another charming smile and off he went with Gyre. Jordan smiled for a moment before glaring at his back as she turned and made her way down into the healing room where she patiently waited near a wall for the gladiators.
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The familiar voice brought Kelyren out of his thoughts and jerked him roughly into reality. He opened his eyes and turned to see Jacob coming towards him.
"Sorry," he mumbled tiredly. Now that he was no longer burning with anger at Gideon (and maybe himself, for accepting the offer) he was starting to feel weary. "I didn't mean to disappear."
Jacob's question made him pause, and a sharp knife of worry stabbed at him. Yes, he had run into someone suspicious. From what that "someone suspicious" had said, there indeed was a powerful man looking to hurt the gladiators - and he had managed to sway Kelyren, who was a healer, into doing his bidding. What am I supposed to say? Kelyren wondered. If I don't say anything, no one will know anything if Gideon double-crosses me and I wind up dead in an alley somewhere. If I do say something, I bet Gideon will somehow learn of it, and then I'll be in deep trouble. Deep down, he knew that he should do the right thing and admit that he had met such a man, and agreed to do some dirty work for him... but his overwhelming desire to be reunited with his sister overpowered that instinct.
"Uh... thanks for letting me know, I guess." That was all he could come up with for a reply. He didn't know if he could say anything else without running the risk of letting something slip. Kelyren hurried after Jacob, and almost ran into the other man when he stopped.
He did not expect the glare and the warning. It made him flinch and look away, breaking eye contact with Jacob. He could only nod once in response, and he continued the journey to the healing area in silence.
And thats it, like a cancelled TV show it just ends there and wasn't picked up again =(. I hope those who read it enjoyed it. Feel free to ask questions or discuss the plot and characters if you want.
Disclamer: I did not create this RP and do not intend to benifit from posting it here.
Months ago I participated in this RP on http://www.roleplaygateway.com/, I had a lot of fun in it and with the other players and it was an interesting RP at that, making it all the more a shame that it stalled out. But I come here today, not to revive it elsewhere mind you, but to in a sense “chronicle” it. I’m posting it here on display for others to see and perhaps be inspired by and maybe enjoy it as much as I did.
In this RP I played Darastrix Dastudr, a stoic third generation Dragonborn/Human descendant. If you want to learn about the other characters in this RP here is a link: http://www.roleplayg...eplay/red-sand/
I will be separating the entirety of it in a several posts, which can be looked at as “chapters”. They will remain unedited from the site I am copying from so if you see any grammatical errors that’d be why.
As a fair warning there is some gore and mature subjects in this RP, so younger readers may want to avert their eyes.
If you also want to lurk around the ooc to see the wacky time we had go right ahead.
And without further ado, here is Red Sand
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Introduction
You live in the kingdom of Diran, a once prosperous and self sufficient land, ran by old king Alan, where all the races thrived. The land had never seen any major war or invasion due to the large mountain range that surrounded it, isolating the kingdom from the rest of the known world. Despite the mountain range every now and then they would encounter minor threats such as roving bands of goblins or a lumbering troll that has come down from the rocky mountain slopes. To handle these instances there were defenses set up and warriors trained to deal with the enemies or any inside disturbances that may occur within their relatively peaceful home.
As you can imagine their small band of warriors were amazingly adept at dealing with minor threats but when a major war came over their mountains they were at a loss of what to do. The kingdom of Seria led by the great tyrant Dimitri Blackwell stormed over the great mountains protecting Diran; bringing war to the once quiet land. King Blackwell was ruthless in his invasion, slaughtering all that stood in his way. After only two years Blackwell succeeded in his invasion killing king Alan and his successors, as well as breaking the spirits of the people.
Your story starts twenty years after the initial en-slavery of the kingdom of Diran. All the nations people that are fit to fight are sent to Blackwell's grand gladiatorial arena to fight to the death and possibly for their freedom, though none have succeeded so far. Those that are not able bodied enough to fight are sent to the salt mines to labor away until they are nothing but husks of their former selves unable to even lift a pick anymore. When the miners finally pass away the bodies are loaded onto a cart and taken off never to be seen again. Some rumors say that King Blackwell reanimates the corpses and uses them to increase his armies power. Others say that his army is made up completely of cannibals and he feeds the corpses to his men to keep them satisfied. No one truly knows.
You are a slave taken away to the great arena to become a gladiator in the death games that King Blackwell enjoys to watch. Each individual will be put into teams of six, to fight against great beasts and terrible odds. This is the story of your team, this is your legend.
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Jherek was cold and hungry, and he knew that his wife Mara was probably feeling even worse. Mara had been feeling sick for the past week so they had gone to the nearest town with a healer to find out what was wrong. It turned out that the news was actually good, Mara was pregnant! The couple was ecstatic and celebrated on their way back to their town... at least until they were greeted by a group of blood beards. A clan of crazed dwarves who attacked random unsuspecting travelers on the road and dipped their beards in the blood of their enemies believing it gave them more strength in battle. They attacked the couple who ran into the woods trying to lose the vicious band. After intense hours of running and hiding the dwarves gave up the chase and left to find other victims. This was how the couple came into their current situation, lost, hungry, and scared in the woods with night rapidly approaching.
The pair stumbled through the forest tripping on the occasional upraised root trying to find the road. When night eventually closed in around them snatching away their vision the couple gave up hope, at least until they heard music not to far away. They followed the enchanting melody until they noted a bright glow emitting from somewhere beyond the gnarled trees in front of them. Jherek and Mara hurried forward hoping that they had found the road. They burst out of the trees into a small meadow completely encircled by the forest with a man sitting by a campfire in the center of it.
The two approached the campfire drawn there by the music and the mouthwatering smell of something cooking over the fire. "Hello friends" said the man as his fingers danced on his lute pulling music from it. "Come sit by the fire and join me; if you are filling hungry then I have a nice pot of stew over the fire. I made far to much for just myself." he said with a smile. "Oh thank you sir!" Jherek said as he led his wife to sit by the fire. Normally he would have been cautious of such a man but for some reason he felt completely safe around him sensing no malice or hostility. "Is there anything we can do to pay you back?" Mara asked as she took the bowls the man gave her and ladled them full of the rich thick stew. The couple could now get a good look at the stranger who was now easily visible in the fire light. He had long hair and an attractive face. He wore a woven gold and black vest under a large forest green cloak to keep the chill out. "No need" The man said with a smile "My payment is your company and friendship for a night." Jherek and Mara thanked the man again and dug in eating the delicious stew and savoring every bite.
After they had finished Mara looked at the man with some embarrassment "I'm sorry we were so rude we didn't even ask your name."
"No offense taken, just call me Tale Weaver" He said pulling his lute into his lap and strumming a cord. "Tell me" He asked the couple "now that you have eaten your fill would you care to hear a story?" Jherek and his wife looked at each other and shrugged "I've always enjoyed a good story so why not" Jherek said. "Very good" responded the Tale Weaver. He strummed a chord on his lute and started off on his story his music adding a weight and magic to his words.
"This story is one from long ago about Diran the land you inhabit and the once great empire of Seria. We start our tale after the great tyrant, King Blackwell, sends his army over the Griffin Peak mountains to take over this beautiful land and enslave its people. Those were dark times where no hope was in sight, and all the people were lost. The citizens were captured and either forced to work in the salt mines, or fight in the gladiatorial arena. This is where we find the heroes of our tale. They are gladiators all strong in their own right and all from different backgrounds. Right now our heroes are in what the people of Seria call the gladiatorial stables meeting each other for the first time, and meeting their trainer for the first time too."
"Alright you **** ants!" the trainer shouted at the six gladiators lined up in front of him. He was a tall heavily built man with scars covering his arms and face. He favored wearing a light sleeveless tunic and loose breeches which somehow only helped show his muscles and old scars "You six have been chosen by some idiot desk jockey in the gladiatorial arenas operating staff to be stuck in a six man gladiatorial team. By some ungodly stroke of luck I have been selected to train you six pieces of crap to be able to survive in the arena!" He lectured walking up and down the line. "Now you will be given three meals a day and a nice floor to sleep on in that small building over there." He said pointing at the building on the edge of the practice field. " This here will be your training ground, you will spend all of your time except for meals and sleep working out here trying to make sure you wont die in your next fight. If you have any complaints then please tell someone who gives a damn, and If you try to escape you will be killed on the spot." The trainer stopped and glared at the gladiators. "Do any of you have questions? If not then go to the mess hall and get your first meal here and meet your healers. They will be your best friends from this day forward."
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Darastrix Dastudr couldn’t help but visibly frown, and with more than one reason. One being the all around “Mr. Feelgood”, sunshiny man who so eloquently introduced himself to the group in such a positive and welcoming manner, equivalent to that of an ass, in all three senses of the word. The second reason being the foulness of animal…leavings stinging his nostrils in the most unpleasant way possible, he would have to get used to it of course, adapting was the only way to survive this kind of life not that there was much choice.
For years now Dara, as we will now call him, had been fighting in games at small venues, those who could not afford to spend them selves at the coliseum would do so there, placing bets with petty cash on the victor. Now it seemed that it was seen fit to promote him into fighting in the Grand Coliseum of Seria; perhaps it was due to the agreement he had made not so long ago for the release of himself and his family, by fighting his way to victory and freedom. If that was indeed the case then it wouldn’t be much longer before his goal was achieved, but there was still a fear that he had been lied to, that his father had long since the last time he saw them were killed and that he fought for nothing. Dara shook those thoughts from his head, he couldn’t think like that now, not when he was so close, although one thing had never really factored in during his previous arena days: a team.
Beside him were five others; A boy no bigger than anyone else and couldn’t be any older than him and wore no expression, an elf woman who looked like she wouldn’t think twice about ripping a mans head off, a Nordic man whom was about the same build as their trainer, another man whim concealed his face with a mask and wore the attire of an archer, and a young woman who looked to his own age. Dara gazed at his hand, covered in leather wrapping around his palm to increase grip, and clenched it, then said to his new “team”, “Better get this over with eh?”
The gladiator began his stride to the building their trainer pointed out to, assuming the others followed. In little time he was at the barracks, and instead of more animal stench a more pleasant sent reached his nose, one that smelled of vegetables and spices. He came upon the mess hall, the room was small only big enough to fit everyone present and a handful more. There was a large boiling pot over a furnace in the corner, more than likely a stew which Dara had whiffed earlier. Also in the room were three other people; a half-elf, for Dara could tell his ears were not as prominent as most elves, with a small frame a pale face, a man with various bandages on him which was curious considering Dara was told only he and the others were gladiators, and… a very gentle young woman whom he assumed was his own age but had a ethereal presence about her. Nothing malevolent mind you, in fact it was a very soft and gentle presence that Dara couldn’t find a reason for.
His attention retuned to the pot, and asked them “I assume that’s for all of us right?” he managed a smile. He held out his hand to the older man assuming he was the senior attendant of the three “Name’s Dara by the way. I also assume you guys will be our healers?” He knew it would serve them well to get acquainted right away, for he knew not when they would be called to the arena.
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It had to be some kind of a joke, he was sure of that, but he didn't argue the matter any further. For the past few years he had been thrown into the arena, made to kill for the entertainment for the sick ******* that was now calling himself the ruler of this land, but a few days ago they had come to him, tended any wounds he had been carrying, and then sent him out to a new area he had yet to see before. It seemed to be for training, and there wasn't really anything there got a small shack, which is where he found himself presently.
He and two others, his memory was horrible and he couldn't recall their names, had been assigned to be healers for a handful of gladiators. So far all they had done was prepare a meal, a simple stew of meat and vegetables that had been provided for them by someone. It smelled delicious, and he was getting rather hungry.
Just before he made to ask the others, who seemed more in charge, or at least seemed to understand what was going on better than he, if it could have a bowl of the stew the door burst open and six figured walked into the shack. A small chill ran the length of his spine at the sight of them, and the animal within wanted out, but he kept it in check, and just to be sure, turned and walked back over to the far corner. He decided it would be best to allow everyone else to take what they wanted of the stew, then to get whatever might be left over. Doing so would upset the beast within, but he was in no mood to cause trouble so soon after being told he would no longer be forced to kill.
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Leilatha did not care too much about what was coming out of her “new” trainers mouth because she was too busy trying to get eyes adjusted to the sunlight. She never got much time in the sun because she was always either resting in the cages below the arena or in the infirmary. She couldn’t help but squint as she stood there straight as a board staring blankly ahead.
It did not take her long to snap out of her little trance hearing the trainer saying the world ‘team.’ Great. Knew there would be some catch to having a nice meal and being outdoors. That was the first time she actually looked up and down the line gazing at the others who stood next to her. At least I am not the only girl. Leilatha half smirked at her own little private joke before her face become emotionless again. Lets just hope they are not the type who want to be “best friends forever.” Leilatha knew that it would not be long until only five gladiators would exit the arena therefore there was no real need for her to become best friends with them because there was no time for grieving in their line of work. But who would be leaving first?…maybe if one of them happened to have an accident then maybe they would not have to continue this partnership. She faintly shook her head, she could not just let one of them die or could she?
Again her thoughts where interrupted as she noticed commander spit face walking away and some of the gladiators making their way to a small building a few metres away. What now? Leilatha followed slowly keeping her distance a little as she did not to be dragged into an conversations. She was more the type to listen and observe than talk.
Once inside her nostrils were filled with the scent of something spice and vegetarian. Her eyes spotted the pot where the delicious smell was coming from but then found them wondering towards the gladiator that spoke. She then noticed some new face, who she figured where the healers the team would be getting. She was not really the biggest fans of healers, although she does appreciate their work. She just hates all the touching that occurs when they are doing their job.
Leilatha decided that she would not participate in the introductions and instead get something to eat before it was all gone. She swiftly shuffled passed the group and towards the pot grabbing herself a bowl full before taking a seat on the table and digging in. The food was delicious and way better than her last meal of bread and water.
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Rowan Verrow eyed the others he stood next to carefully. It unnerved him a bit to think that he’d have to work with these people from now on. Not in the sense that he didn’t want comrades, but more in the sense that it scared him to bond with others. After all, what would happen if they were to be hurt? Or worse? His shook the thoughts out of his head as he listened to the group’s new ‘trainer’, a burly looking man who seemed very accustomed to the arena.
Rowan wiped the sweat from his forehead gently and wiped his hands on the somewhat long shorts he wore. It was hot in the stables, something Rowan was unused to considering his being forced into fighting not a year ago. The salt mines were harsh, but this was going to be on a whole new level than Rowan had faced before. I wonder if I’ll be able to handle it...? He thought, looking at his comrades once more. I wonder if I won’t hold them back?
Rowan’s thoughts, and worries were washed away at the mention of food. It had been a while since he had eaten a decent meal, and it sounded especially good about this time... He glanced over at the man beside him. A tall and strong looking man that seemed not much older than himself. “Right... sure.” He muttered in agreement with the man, keeping his sharp gaze steady the whole time.
Following the man into the mess hall, Rowan was hit with the strong and overpowering smell of food. He tried not to show his excitement as his mouth watered for the delicious food that he would soon be eating, provided that this food was indeed for him and his fellow gladiators.
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Kelyren's patience was wearing thin.
He toyed idly with a spoon, staring at the pot of food and wishing the new gladiators would arrive already so that he could eat. He hadn't eaten all day, and he was hungry.
I need to get my mind off food. Kelyren twirled the spoon around in his fingers again, and looked to the other two healers in the room. Both of them were strangers, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable in their presence. Anxious thoughts filled his head: Are they watching me? Do they know I'm looking at them? Who are they? Do they know how long we'll be waiting? I hope they didn't hear my stomach grumbling all this time...
He sighed, putting the spoon down before he gave into temptation and helped himself to a bowl of stew. Hopefully he could wait a few minutes longer. The gladiators were bound to be hungry, and they wouldn't delay themselves from a meal unless something forcibly detained them. Maybe something had happened. Maybe there was a mistake and -
The door swung open before he could finish the thought. Six gladiators strode in, and Kelyren eagerly looked up at the team he had been assigned to. He remained silent and kept to himself for now. Introductions would come later, or when someone asked him who he was.
He watched as one of the gladiators helped herself to a bowl of stew. She looked quite ferocious to him, and he quickly looked away, hoping that she would not take his gaze as a challenge or offense of some kind. His stomach growled again and he finally spoke up in a cheerful tone.
"I guess this means we can all dig in, right?"
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Bliss stood in the room among the five other solders, a dull ache reverberating in her mind in time with each heartbeat. Fortunately for her, it was the only thing that really stuck with her from the last battle she had; it wasn't a pretty one either. She had been lucky for that healer or else, she knew with certainty, she wouldn't be standing there listening to the man insult them with his petty comments at the moment. . . . Well, fortunate depending in whose eyes you looked in. She grimaced, trying to erase the battle from her head, not wanting to remember what fate the other guy had finished in. It hadn't exactly been much of a fair fight either, the guy had been all brawn and muscles with a huge longsword and Bliss had had the opportunity to fight him with a dagger. But apparently luck had been on her side because she had winded up as the victor and she loathed herself for it. She hated that she had to kill to keep herself alive, but at the same time it was as simple as kill or be killed and Bliss simply valued her life too much to let herself die.
She refrained the urge to shudder and instead tried to focus all of her energy on what was happening, not that she exactly wanted to. The man was ranting at them and Bliss thought it was ever so amusing. She felt her lip twitch and tried to stay blanked face, although it was rather hard where she swore she thought a vein prod from his forehead. Who had peed in this guy’s coffee anyways? She really hoped that he just happened to be angry and it wasn’t his real personality . . . because she pitied the person who had to put up with him every day; oh, wait. Although luck seemed to be on her side once more when he soon dismissed all of them, not knowing if she had enough self-control for her face to remain blank a second longer. Did he know how ridiculous he looked when he was that angry? His face was all red and blotchy and he seemed slightly out of breath from his rather large, angry rant about the six of them.
Her eyes followed her team mates as she lingered behind them for a bit, trying to at least figure them out. She glanced at the female first, feeling a slight sigh of relief. She didn't know how well she would fare only being surrounded by men, although the girl did look slightly distanced, almost as if she didn't really want others talking to her. She put that in a mental note, knowing she would forget it as soon as she got to the hall. The other one was a large man who seemed to be mostly muscles and Bliss felt a hint of relief knowing that he was on her side, she really wouldn't want to battle against him herself. Her next glance came a bit as a shock, as the guy had red scales on his arm. She felt the need to ask him if she would be allowed to touch them but banished that from her mind, not wanting to seem childish in front of any of them. Her next glance landed on a seemingly small looking boy although she didn't judge, she had learnt not to assume someone wasn't deadly just if they didn't look it. Although she felt a rather foolish urge to try and protect him from harm. The last glance was a human, like herself and as much as her eyes lingered on him, she couldn't exactly figure him out.
All of the thoughts about her fellow teammates popped out of her head as soon as she got the whiff of something delicious. Her stomach growled angrily and she realized just how long she had actually eaten and how ravenous she actually was. With a large smile on her face she followed the smell as well as her teammates and soon found herself in the gladiatorial stables. She found three other people and she couldn't help get the distinct feel of healers off of all of them. Bliss saw with content another girl that seemed to be really kind, much like the feel she got off of most healers. The other one was an elf and she grinned, finding herself to like him already for that sole fact. She had had an elven best friend when she was younger and was left with the assumption that all elves were that kind. That last one was another man and she felt herself not able to read him, like the human in the other room.
Bliss smiled, knowing that she would be stuck with these people for a while, or up until they got killed anyways. It would be beneficial for her to befriend them, besides, she needed someone to talk to or she would go mad. She shot them all a smile, even though no one was really paying much attention to her. "Hey guys, nice to meet you all. The name's Bliss, kinda a stupid name to have when you're a gladiator," She grinned at her own, lame joke and continued on. "But anyways, looks like we'll all be together for a while now, right? That's bound to be interesting," She told them all, her tone betraying her optimism.
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Sean was unsure of many things... He didn't know what the difference would be between the combat he knew and the arena everyone was so afraid of, or how well the others could fight, or what sort of training the scarred man had in mind, but he did know one thing... He was going to be forced to kill to survive.
He liked the sounds of it to be perfectly honest.
Sean was born to a nomadic clan of barbarian warriors, who fought not for territory or for supplies, but almost always for the thrill that came with battle. He had been raised to handle a sword since his arms were strong enough to hold one and had cleaved a man in two not many moons afterwards. He knew combat and killing better than he knew the language of this strange land, granted he knew little of the language in the first place. He knew how to say hello and his name, and ask for food, but short of that, he knew little else. His weapons and fists would have to speak for him on the battlefield then...
Sean clenched his fist in anticipation, a grin spreading on his face. He wore no armor, merely a large thick leather belt covering his stomach and a pair of loose-fitting brown breeches, the breeches having been given to him not long ago... prior to them, he had worn a mere loincloth. His body was also covered in quite a few scars, it being obvious that he had seen the wrong end of a weapon more times than he cared to remember... mostly due to his young age. His hair looked as though it hadn't been cut since birth, nor properly washed short of dunking it into a river and calling it a day. He glared at his sides at his new comrades, and saw that none of them looked to be as big or strong as him, and inwardly he wept. Not a warrior in the bunch... Sean decided that watching their backs would be a full time effort, and one not many of his clan ever cared to make for one man, much less five...
He would fight as though alone then... He doubted he'd need them to kill anything the arena sought fit to send to slaughter in the first place... unless it was more of those soldiers that had nearly wiped his clan from existence... He was one of the few to suffer the shame of being taken alive.
He tried to push the thought from his mind as he advanced toward the shack that held their food, nearly running to be the first to swing open the door, looking at the pot of stew as though it were the body of a woman. It was the first decent meal he'd had since his capture...
"Food" He said, his accent still very apparent and thick, grabbing a bowl and filling it to the brim before sitting down and began swallowing the broth straight from the bowl, plucking the meat and vegetables from the stew with his fingers. He heard some of the others speak, but paid them no mind, as his stomach took priority at the moment.
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Adriac Veras didn't sleep that night..not after regaining consciousness. He just sat against the wall of his cell silently, staring at a floor he could not see. How could I have failed? he thought to himself angrily, I had one real chance to be free and I ruined it. How did I not see that one soldier?!? The day before, Adriac had been brought to this arena as a prisoner. Those in charge wanted to find out if he was cut out for this sort of fighting..so they had scheduled a preliminary match between him and another gladiator would-be. Adriac had tried to take his only chance to escape.
The fools had given him his weapon of choice, a longbow. All of his life Adriac had practiced with it and killed with it. He had learned to use the magic within him to enchant arrows..making them even deadlier. As soon as the fight had begun, Adriac had launched an arrow enchanted with lightning into his opponent..the poor man was dropped instantly. Not wasting a second, Adriac had then proceeded to fire two arrows enchanted with fire into the crowd..they exploded on impact and drove the arena into chaotic panic.
He tried to use this distraction to get away, but one soldier had noticed him. Adriac didn't notice the man and was struck from behind, dropped to the ground unconscious. Now he was sitting in a cell in the Gladitorial Stables waiting to find out what was to become of him.
Strangely enough, when morning came, nobody said anything to him. He was told to get up with the other five, but nothing more. Apparently they had decided to keep him around. All night Adriac had struggled with a splitting migraine, and now it was so deeply set in that he closed his eyes to avoid torchlight. Even as he opened them briefly to keep his bearings while following the others, he didn't look any of them in the eye. These people were unimportant.
Adriac had mostly resigned himself already. There was little chance of another opening to escape. He had spent so many years running from this life, and now he was trapped in it. So many soldiers killed by his hand to delay this fate, but it was inevitable. They had reached the room with the stew now, but Adriac's eyes remained closed. His head felt like it was tearing itself apart, and he was nauseus. The archer stood there listening only to his thoughts.
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The trainer, Jacob, paced around outside in the training field waiting for the delivery. He had a special surprise planned for the newbies and it was about ten minutes late. He was getting impatient; it wasn't enough that he was forced to take care of these misfits now he was stuck out here in this godforsaken field baking in the heat. These **** ants he was given were supposed to be the best the gladiatorial arena had to offer, at least that's what he had been told when he accepted this job offer. For some reason he doubted that statement, and even if they were the best the arena had to offer fighting as a team is on a whole different level than fighting solo.
After a few more minutes of brooding Jacob heard the clip clop of hooves down the way. "Ahh there it is" he said with a small smile of satisfaction. Jacob waved the cart down and pointed it towards the small arena that the gladiators used for a practice field. He would let the newbies eat for a little while longer, but then they would get to meet his little greeting present.
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Only after all the others had gotten their food did William go back to the pot for his own bowl, his stomach now growling. During the introductions, and there had been but a few, he had sat silently, watching and listening, trying to place names and faces together in his memory so they could be used later. This was a daunting task, however, due in large to the beast. It was hungry, more hungry than he was in truth, and so he had to keep him fought back. Sometimes he liked to image the beast deep inside him, locked within a huge iron bar cage...
After getting his bowl of stew he makes his way back to his little corner, plops down, and begins to eat, soothing his stomach and the beast's as well. The growling, of both his stomach and mind, was slowly fading as he ate.
But then he smelled something, over the normal smells of this place, and the people within the shack, and the stew. Horses. At least one, maybe a few more, pulling something he was sure, because now he could hear their hooves on the ground, and was sure there was another noise, like wheels turning. This was a side effect of his lycanthropy. Even in his human form his scenes were heightened, like those of a wolf. He could smell and hear things more acutely, and at a greater range, than normal people. Sometimes, if he concentrated, he could even see in the dark, with no light at all.
"We have company..." he mutters, to anyone who might happen to be close enough to hear, should they have bothered to be listening.
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Kelyren found that his question was answered soon enough, and got up to help himself to some food. He ladled stew into his bowl until it threatened to spill over the edge, and made his way over to where he had been sitting. He ate slowly, taking great care not to make a mess. Unfortunately, the stew did not taste as good at it smelled. Food was food, though, so he ate without complaint.
He glanced at the others who had gotten a bowl of food, watching them in the hopes that he might be able to learn a bit about them from how they were eating. He couldn't help but notice the large, bearded man devouring his bowl of stew with his bare hands, and shifted away from the gladiator slightly. No doubt he's a barbarian of some kind... he sure eats like one, Kelyren thought as he turned his attention to the man in the corner. Now this guy. One of the other healers. He seems sorta quiet to me, maybe he's the kind of guy who keeps to himself.
Kelyren was close enough to hear him say something about having company.
"Company?" he asked after swallowing a mouthful of food. "You mean, the rest of us who are crammed into the mess hall with you?" He grinned as he spoke, gesturing around at the others with his spoon. "Or do you mean to say that we have another unexpected guest who's about to show up?"
Kelyren spooned up a large chunk of meat and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly as he waited for a reply.
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Out of the corner of her eye Leilatha noticed a set of eyes staring at her as she ate. She decided not to turn to the person and ask what his problem was but instead just watch him from the corner of her eye. Leilatha could hear his stomach growing as he quickly looked away from her. Why doesn’t he just eat? She knew he was a healer since she could not recall seeing his face outside. He must think that one of them will hit him if he does eats. But that would be a very unintelligent thing to do because we need him for his healing skills.
Her attention was drawn away from the healer and towards the only other female gladiator as she spoke. She was smiling cheerfully and acting all polite as she told them her name and how ‘interesting’ it will be to work together. She is almost like a child. How can she have survived all her fights when she is so small and looks so fragile and innocent? This must be some kind of act. Leilatha could not help herself and had to turn her body a little to get a better look at Bliss. She could see Bliss’s battle wounds and scars but did not understand how a girl like her could take on anyone and survive. Maybe she is one of those magic people….or maybe she has got some other secrets. Must keep an eye on her in the next battle.
Leilatha returned to her bowl of food and continued to eat noticing that another person had taken a seat on the table with their bowl of stew. He was devouring his meal like an animal but then again who would not be if they had not had a decent meal in days. And for his size he surely needs to have seconds or even thirds therefore the faster he eats the more likely there would be food still left over. It did not bother her too much because her body had already adjusted to having not much food and therefore she would not have to eat so much to be full.
It did not take long for someone else to speak which aggravated her a bit, and she tossed her spoon onto the table with frustration. Can’t I eat in peace. It was one of the healers who said we had company arriving. And like most conversation someone had to reply and it was Mr Stare. Since she did not know the name of the healer who was staring at her earlier she decided to just call him Mr Stare. Leilatha picked up her spoon again, this time having a much tighter grip on it then before as she scooped up some stew. Please let this be a dream. Do not make me have to deal with a bunch of babbler mouths.
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Sean finished his stew and let out a belch as he wiped the broth off of his mouth. The food was about as good as the rushed meals his clan had made, so the quality mattered little to him, but couldn't help but notice some of the others weren't as enthusiastic about their meal as he was.
"Go on, eat. Make strong like Sean" He said, knowing he probably butchered the words, but the others should still get the gist of what he said. He laughed at himself and looked about at the others, then realized he had yet to introduce himself. He slapped his chest and stood up, puffing himself up to seem as large as possible.
"I Sean of Hollifield Tribe! I kill bear with fists!" He said, nearly yelling it. Normally, this would have been responded to with cheers and roars of approval, then another would stand and make another such introduction. When this didn't occur, Sean pointed to Bliss, mostly because he was curious why she was counted amongst the warriors, and maintained the same tone as earlier as he asked "You! Who you are? What you kill?". He planned on asking this of everyone should they not join in... Granted it was a good way of seeing how confident one was with their strength in battle as well as knowing the toughest foe they'd defeated, which is all Sean's clan really cared about if you were a man. If anyone else had mumbled anything during his boasts and shouting, he could not hear them...
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Dara followed the other’s example by taking a bowlful for himself, though the meal wasn’t entirely a peaceful one as a few others displayed that they were the more enthusiastic of the bunch. This earned a small smile from him, at someone was making the best of things. The girl whom called herself Bliss introduced herself in a rather bubbly out way, uncharacteristic in this kind of life. One of their healers mentioned something about company arriving but it was somewhat muttered under his breathe so Dara didn’t pay too much attention. The Nordic man introduced himself in an outburst that was laid think with a heavy accent which the dragonborn descendant recognized, shouting “Hollifield Tribe!” confirmed what language was his native one; a draconic dialect. Fortunately Dara had been taught some by his living ancestors.
The man rose, made his way to Sean and struggled a bit to find the right words, but eventually did so, “Uh, vi…vi…Vinult thurirl, dout dastudr geou qe kashora.” Hail friend, your strength will be appreciated. Dara recognized right away that forming bonds now, as formal as they may be, was better than fighting alongside complete strangers who knew nothing of what the others would do. Speaking to the barbarian in his own tongue was probably a decisive move, fortunate that their culture has assimilated parts of the Dragonborns’ in centuries past.
He said to the rest, “Our friend here is a little…blunt, but he has the right idea, if we’re going to do anything together we should at least know our names and skills.” He then gestured to Bliss, “I believe you already introduced yourself Bliss.” Dara returned to a neutral stance and said, “As for me my full name is Darastrix Dastudr, but just call me Dara; I specialize in long swords and axes. Now none of you have to give their life story if you don’t want to, a name and skill set is fine.”
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Rowan spent no time collecting a bowl of stew and finding a seat, somewhat seperated from his more confident teammates. It unnerved him slightly to think that the others were so calm and resolute in their own abilites and yet he himself was still feeling quite nervous. He spooned the stew slowly, bit by bit into his mouth as he listend and watched the others carefully. After all, he wanted to learn his teammates mannerisms as soon as possible. It would be nearly essential for him to know how they act when in combat together, this much he could piece together. Though most of what he heard seemed irrelevant, like the sound of a spoon being banged on a table and the jumbled words of 'Sean', one of his new teammates. He made quick glances at the healers that he hoped to avoid visiting later, one in particular caught his interest. A girl who seemed completely unfit for this place, but he brushed the idea away. Currently, he needed to understand his teammates.
His thoughts raced wildly. I see. So there's Sean, the spoon-throwing Miss, Dara who specializes in swords and axes, and... He turned to look at the remaining warriors he would soon be fighting alongside. One, a young woman, seemed not much older than himself and the other... The masked man. Rowan didn't know what to make of him. After all, the person hadn't spoken a word to any of the others. Then again, Rowan hadn't said much either. With a slight sigh, he resigned his silent observation and decided it was time he spoke once more. "Rowan." He began, with a slight nod towards the others. "I suppose you could say I specialize in quick striking and footwork. If I had to give you my best weapon, I'd say it's the broadsword." He finished, blinking his cold stare. "It's nice to meet you all."
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Bliss looked around at the busy faces, most seemed to be trouble. She sighed softly, knowing that it wasn't exactly the best situation to be in but it wasn't like any of them had much of a choice in the matter. They might as well make it as pleasant as possible, Bliss didn't exactly want to die in an unpleasant mood, she might as try and make the time she had left and make it as pleasant as possible. Now with the new possibility of making friends that had just arose, well, it was a rather good deal. She loved the company of another person and it had been way too lonely fighting alone, the concept of someone watching her back always made her feel a lot more safe. Not to mention that their chance of survival practically skyrocketed with now 5 other people in the team, and apparently some of the best too from what she had overheard. And peering around the room her burst of confidence was proven right. If these people were her teammates, all of their chances of survival would soar and if they really did become popular enough, they might be given the chance to leave. She grinned from her optimistic thoughts and approached the pot of food, having waited for the crowd to clear out a bit before she grabbed a bowl full along with a spoon and went to sit near the main crowd of people, taking a few bites.
Her thoughts were slightly interrupted by the large man, whose name now she had learnt to be Sean, announcing that he killed bears with his bare hands. Bliss couldn't help to giggle quietly, immediately liking the big guy. If she were to make friends here, and hopefully she would with everyone because in her mind she was already great friends with all of them, Sean was definitely one she wanted to have. She grinned at him, his comment making people listen to him, which made her happy because now people were starting to speak. It had peaked at their interest, the possibility of finding the fighting skills of their teammates was probably the most important thing that they could learn about each other. The guy with had the red scales on his arm was next to speak up, his name being Dara and he apparently specialized with long swords and axes. She nodded her head along with the statement, she saw that guy wielding an axe just about as she saw Sean handling a some dangerous weapon with a massive weight, it just seemed to support how they both looked. The next warrior to stand was the guy she had thought to look rather young, but she knew not to judge on looks. And she was right, he probably fought in the same manor she did, rely on the others opponents heavy footing against their swiftness and seeing as how their techniques were rather uncommon, not a lot of people acknowledged it and just put them off as useless. Although she frowned a bit at his rather formal and cold tone, was something bothering him?
She shrugged the thought off and grinned at all of the others once more, even though most of them acted rather formally, she suspected that she was surrounded by good people. Well, as good as you could be when you killed people so you could live yourself. "Well, like Dara said, you guys already know my name's Bliss. And for you Sean, I kill the people they tell me to kill in the arena." She shrugged, like it really wasn't a big deal, although the words did bother her to say. She hated killing, even if it were to let herself live, it made her nothing better than a murdered really. "Unfortunately though, I’ve yet to kill a bear, especially with my bare hands, sorry Sean. And I kick ass with daggers, preferably twin ones. They're always great fun to fight with," She winked as she told them light heartedly, taking another bite of the stew, noticing how good it actually was. The treatment was better here too, a lot better than the smaller arenas that she had been used to.
The small grin on her face still lingered, trying to increase the energy of the room. It seemed she was in a rather dull and unhappy atmosphere, which didn't surprise her, but she still didn't enjoy it. She dislikes seeing others in such a sad mood, in made her mood falter slightly. Her gaze turned to the other girl in her team along with the masked guy, who had still yet to speak. Her gaze also turned to the three healers who weren't speaking much as her gaze lingered on each of them. Those would be the people inwardly saving her life, which she was grateful for. Her last healer had been a bit of a **** though and she hoped that these three would be a lot nicer, not that you really had to be nice to the dying person, just heal their wounds. Although that didn't snuff that flame of hope she was feeling and just contniued to eat, absentmindedly scratching at one of her wounds.
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William was a little startled when someone actually responded to him. More often than not he was ignored outside of the arena, unless they knew what he was hiding, then they deliberately kept away from him. Or they just didn't like him. Either way, he paused in eating his stew to speak further to the man, but then a large man who looked as if he should he carrying a large tree limb with him, rose and began to speak, rather badly. He was obviously from a different land, but William understood him well enough. The other one who spoke to him, in some other language, made more sense bet something about him was off. He wasn't fully human, but then again neither was William, and so he soon forgot about this as others began to speak.
Between the one who asked to be called Dara, and the man named Rowan, William finally spoke.
"I can hear horses approaching," he says quietly, staring down into his bowl, moving around a chunk of meat with his spoon, "I don't know what's going on, but I think they're bringing something here..." Pausing, he listens to the others a bit longer, trying to decide if it would really mean anything for him to speak up. From what he understood of things, he wasn't going to be doing much, mostly keeping house except for before and after fights, "You can call me...Fangs..."
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Kelyren twitched as Sean introduced himself, he watched the large warrior state his name, tribe, and profession. Killing bears with his fists? Sean certainly looked like he was capable of it, but Kelyren found himself grinning at the spectacle. Announcing to a bunch of strangers that you could kill bears with your fists was quite a way to break the ice...
He turned his attention to the others as they introduced himself, taking note of their appearances and names, working on etching them into his memory so that he could recognize them easier. He was already taking a liking to the outgoing gladiator girl - Bliss, according to what she said. Odd name to give a warrior.
She's a lot friendlier than the other gladiators... though I bet she's just as dangerous as the rest of them. He blinked when she looked at him, but thankfully "Fang" replied to his question, giving him a good opportunity (and excuse) to break eye contact with Bliss.
"Horses, huh." Kelyren looked down at his empty bowl of food and glanced over at the pot, debating whether or not he should grab a second helping. "Maybe they're some rich visitors coming to watch a match. Or maybe you're right and they're bringing something here. Either way, I don't mind as long as I don't have to deal with 'em." He shrugged and gave the group a small grin. "My name's Kelyren, by the way. I'm one of the lucky people who gets to patch everyone up after the fun's over."
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Sean smiled as the others began to speak, glad that they were finally getting into the spirit of things. He had begun to get the impression that the others weren't excited about fighting. He'd long since thought the men who had captured him to be fools, allowing him to train and kill and sticking him in chains around others who acted like this was a punishment. He had been having a blast the years he'd been in the arena as a single combatant, taking the opportunity to get stronger and attempt to locate the others of his clan. He'd yet to so far, which only made him feel stronger.
He was the only one so far to survive.
Then something happened that threw him for a loop... one of the others, one that looked like he had scales on his arms, spoke to Sean in his clan's language. Sean looked at him with a perplexed look on his face, then poked him in the head a few times as though studying him.
"wux tir ti vorq hefoc ir di sia clan... svanoa tir wux ukris hefoc astahi?" You do not look like one of my clan... How do you talk like them He asked, then began laughing as he swung his arm around Dara's neck and pulled him into a headlock, which was the closest Sean ever got to hugging someone.
"thric selgtarn, dout ivah xurwkic ve gneshgnesh vur wux relgra ve versvesh! wux re sia ressan jaka!" No matter, your voice makes me laugh and you called me strong! You are my ally now! He yelled before releasing Dara from his grip and continued his laugh, turning to Bliss as she answered his earlier question.
"Dagger? What those? And why two? One broken?" he asked, again donning a perplexed face. His clan had encountered daggers before, but had been in the woods for most of Sean's life and so he had never seen one in person, and only knew it by the name from his own tongue: Beetnekil. or "eating sword" as they often mistook it for an eating utensil for carving meat. Being caught up in his thoughts, Sean mostly ignored the conversation about horses as no one had said anything about eating them and knew better than to think they would be riding them, as well as William's and Kelyren's introductions. His attention span was as short as he was big...
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Leilatha was astonished to hear the largest man in the group to speak she surely thought he would be too busy stuffing his face. She was also surprised that he could not speak their language fluently. Well at least his name is easy to pronounce. A number of introductions followed after that which she decided to pay attention since they weren’t very long and it would be very helpful to know their skills in order to find their weakness. You never know, teammates have turned on each other before.
The next was a gladiator who appeared to know the language Sean spoke. This could be a problem. They are sure going to form a bond with each other with this language and therefore would be able to easily plot against me and any of the others without us knowing. She frowned a little before listening on, the gladiator continued saying his name was Dara and that he specializes in long swords and axes. Interesting. Next came someone she had not yet taken the time to fully analyse, he stated his name was Rowan and like the Bliss girl seemed rather small in size. Which she knew was an advantage for him when he spoke about being quick on his feet and his weapon of choice being broadsword. He also seemed to have a rather gloomy presents around him which she liked since she wasn’t much of a talker either.
The other female gladiator spoke again in the same cheerful tone as before. Leilatha decided to block most of her voice out and only take note of the important parts as she finished off her stew. Bliss uttered that she was skilled with daggers which would make her useful for close combat.
She then heard the faint voice of the healer from earlier saying how he could hear horses approaching. His right. Leilatha blocked out all other noises and just listened out for horse hoofs and finally heard them. It was not just one horse but a couple, and they were pulling something heavy. She returned her attention to the healer just in time to hear him say that his name was Fang. Mr Stare was next; he came up with some ideas of what might be getting brought to their training arena before introducing himself as Kelyren. Let’s hope these boys are as good with their hands and patching up skills as they are in talking. She smirked to herself.
There was silence for a moment as she noticed only a few people where left to make introductions and she was one of them. Great! Let’s just get it over and done with. She pushed the bowl away from herself and stayed seated in her chair. “I am Leilatha…and my weapon of choice would be small blades,” she spoke hard-heartedly without making eye contact with anyone. She could have easily told them some of her other skills but decided not to, since most of them were larger and stronger than her she was not about to give them even.
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Jacob finished helping the driver unload the front seat of the transport wagon. The driver leaned on the wagon and rapped his knuckle against the side “So what do you need all these beasties for?” he asked. The wagon suddenly started rocking back and forth with an unearthly chatter echoing from the inside. Jacob gave the driver a wicked smile “They are going to be a little present to my new friends.”
"Remind me to never invite you to a winter festival party" The driver said with a skeptical look.
Jacob laughed and patted the man on the back as he headed toward the mess hall. "Just wait here for a bit while I go grab today's entertainment" Jacob called back over his shoulder.
The trainer arrived at the mess hall throwing the door open. "All right people!" he yelled "I hope you've all eaten your fill cause it's time to go! Gladiators line up in the practice arena by the cart out there, it should be an easy enough task for you incompetents to accomplish. Healers I want all of you out there too, sit in the stands though so you will be safe." Jacob turned around and headed back towards the cart expecting his orders to be followed without question.
The archer rose, thinking about these new teammates of his. They were nothing like those he had fought alongside and watched die for years. The closest one seemed to be Leliatha, as she had been quiet and quick. No surprise that such a person would opt for a stealthy, yet lethal, choice of weapon. Adriac also had his curiousity tickled by the man named Dara. He seemed of a higher class of being than these others.
Thinking more deeply about it as he walked towards the door, Adriac realized each of these others had something interesting about them. Sean was loud and brutish, but appeared very strong. His interest in Dara had already been expressed. Bliss seemed too happy to be a gladiator, perhaps she had an illness. Leliatha was quiet, which only differentiated her from Rowan in the fact that she seemed cautious while Rowan simply seemed nervous. None of this really mattered to Adriac though.
Even some of the healers had spoken, but Adriac didn't care about healers. He didn't plan to fight. If he had to fight, he didn't plan to get hurt. If he got hurt, he hoped to not survive. Oh well, not following orders would not get him killed..it would only cause these soldiers to make the remainder of his life miserable. Adriac was the first out the door.
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She had grown up in the shadow of the arena. The screams of the crowd woke her up in the morning and the dying rasp of the dead was her lullaby. Even her mother’s sweet singing couldn’t drown out the noises of the ‘Sport’ that her greatest enemy concocted.
Is it treasonous to rebel against the King? Even if I only think the thoughts? She thought, as the last member of her team looked up at her. His head resting on her lap, as his thick, blood matted hair stained her white gown. His brown eyes wrought with fear; his large bloodstained hands clutched to one of hers. His grip was loose; his strength was waning. She watched as his throat worked, as more blood gushed forth from the narrow slit across his throat. The blood felt warm upon her dress, sticky… smelled metallic. She felt her stomach roll, a bead of sweat running down the side of her face.
How could such small wound bleed so much? she asked herself, her face impassive, as she held onto his hand. With her free hand she reached into her pouch and pulled out two vials. The clear solution was escape from pain and misery. The blue vial was a chance. A chance to survive and fight another fight for the sick King that loved seeing his enslaved people kill one another. Her team knew what the choice was that she offered to them.
She watched as his eyes lingered on the vial with the clear liquid and she nodded. She uncorked it and held it to his lips. Her lips moved in a silent prayer that he’d be able to swallow. She watched as the liquid dribbled over his lips, running down to blend and be consumed by blood. She tilted her head back, the icy façade fading from her face, as the torment showed, consumed by utter hatred for what her father’s kind had to do. She breathed out and allowed the mask to descend over her face again before she leaned down and kissed the man’s forehead, as she freed her hands and brought them both down over his mouth and nose. He didn’t struggle. He watched her with a look of relief. She never looked away.
The guards found her an hour later. The body of her teammate wrapped in the red funeral shroud of her people. The shroud that she made by hand. She stood in the corner of the room; her gown no longer red with blood but a pristine-white. Her face looked tired and drawn.
“Ice-Queen,” one guard said. Her name was Sylvani. He knew that, but Ice-Queen fit her better. She had been in the ring for five years as a healer, yet it was because of her father and Alrun that they knew her so well. She was the female that was unbreakable. The one that watched slaughter and death and moved on. No one heard her scream out at night from the nightmares that plagued some. No one saw her shed a tear for those that died. Her team, gone, and there she stood, as if nothing had happened. “You’ve been put with a new team.”
Her silver-eyed gaze was cold, as she leveled it on a guard. Her face was pale, as she strode forward her small feet barely touching the ground. She paused in front of him. Her right brow arched higher, as she stared at him. She rarely spoke, and when she did… it was quiet. She would not be talking to this guard. Not to this harbinger of bad news. Another team. Another six people to watch die while she fought to keep them alive.
It was a bad idea to wage war against the King. Even though the war was private and resided only in the Elven-woman’s mind. She smoothed her hands over the white gown that she wore, translucent over her stomach but solid white over the rest of her body. The dress exposed most of her back, and the slit on the left side showed the expanse of creamy white skin. The faux-gold jewelry was affixed to her wrists and around her neck. She dressed not like the people of the city but like her mother’s people. Her people. The Aubade people. She left her long pale-gold hair free, affixed back from her face only by a simple clip that was over her curved ears. To many, she would seem human if not for the fact that she was six feet tall and too lithe to be human. Elf-kin. Close to the correct word. Dawn-followers. Aubade. The song for lovers that must part at dawn or risk meeting a deadly fate. Her people, the wanderers that sang the sad songs of days gone. She knew the songs, for they resided in her heart, coiled beneath the ice-defense that she had erected all those years ago.
“Hey!” the guard yelled to her. “You have to go to the seventh Trainer. You know the one. Burly guy. Likes swearing. He’s got a good record for keeping these guys alive. Maybe you’ll be lucky and they will survive a year. That’d be a new record for you, wouldn’t it?” he jeered.
The King’s Guards.
Bastards.
Her back straightened as if ice-cold water had been thrown over her. She turned and moved back to him, her hand drew back, curled, and slammed against the man’s jaw. She felt the bones in her hand crunch and the pain spike white-hot through her body but already she employed a precious amount of magic to the pain, healing it. “One day,” she promised the guard who was gingerly touching his bruised jaw. “It will be you in the ring, and you will beg me to heal you… and I will laugh,” she swore. Her voice was soft as the wind through a willow tree but the intensity and angry made the man straighten. She ignored the look of warning that he gave her, as she turned and moved from the infirmary towards the barracks. She made an enemy out of any that willingly wore the King’s colors.
She moved through the training yard, keeping to the shadows. White was a distraction for many. A sudden color among the black, brown, green… the normal colors of those that couldn’t afford the rich sable colors of the King and nobility.
A voice rang over the courtyard, and she sighed. It could only belong to Jacob. She wondered what he was going to be doing to his new recruits. If it was anything like what Alrun had gone through… she quickened her pace. She would hate to lose one of her new gladiators because he or she got injured during one of Jacob’s brilliant training ideas.
She moved to the practice courtyard but didn’t move up to the seats. She perched close by, her sharp sight allowing her to see the trainer. She wondered when would be the best time to go over to him and let him see that she was going to be part of his group. She wondered what he’d say. She wondered if she’d ask her to pick up a sword. Other trainers thought it was funny that the Aubade woman couldn’t lift a sword that even the weakest woman could lift with one hand. Yet, the trainers knew that the weaker she was physically… the stronger she was magically. She kicked at a clod of dirt, as she looked over the gladiators. A woman. She liked that. She liked seeing women survive. It proved to the king that women were not as… docile as he might have hoped. A female elf? She studied the other a bit closer. They were not of the same elf-kin. She decided with a pang of sadness that she shoved away. She studied a man with golden eyes, trying to figure out what he was and then her eyes landed on the scales and she nodded. Her attention kept moving. There was another smaller male with pale hair. She found it amusing. She wasn’t used to being taller than men. The same height, yes, but not taller. She looked at the very tall…brute of a man. She hoped he would do well. There was another human that she could see. There was another woman, Sylvani noted. Two women? She wondered if the King was growing more cruel. The crowd always feared more for their women-folk.
The healers she gave a more cursory glance. Her attention was always on the gladiators. Once that team was gone… then she would be reassigned. The healers helped keep the fighters alive, but she rarely grew any sort of camaraderie with them. She saw another with slightly pointed ears, and a wild sort of man. Healers, she knew, came in a strange rag-tag bunch.
She bounced on the toes of her feet, feeling the herbs in the pouch shift. The ground around her, what little grass there was that hadn’t been trampled into the dirt, withered and died and the Aubade woman seemed better for it. More energized. Then, back to the Ring and Jacob. What was he going to release? She doubted it was going to be cute and cuddly.
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Jacob leaned on the transport cart as the gladiators followed and lined up in front of him, while the healers took to the stands. "Ok you incompetents I have two pretty little surprises for you!" Jacob grabbed the boxes that he had removed from the front of the cart and pried them open. He pulled out the contents of the boxes revealing seven different long links of chains with cuffs on the end of each. The shackles were around four feet long each and made out of heavy material. Jacob pulled out the shackles and tossed one to each of the gladiators. "Put these on. They are going to be the first weapon that you receive! These chains are going to be part of you from now on, you will eat, sleep, and train with these on you. They have all been enchanted to prevent chafing. For you weaker gladiators I had some lighter chains made, I don't want you dieing because you can't move. They will be lighter but weaker on the offensive" Jacob clamped the seventh chain onto his wrist and and started spinning the length around over his head. "Do not underestimate the chain! they symbolize weakness to some but you can make that weakness your strength!" Jacob spun the chain faster and swung it at one of the empty boxes smashing it to splinters. "These are weapons of a deadly caliber, and if you have any inkling of using these on me or the guards around this area then think again. The mages under my control have put tracking spells on you when we first met so you CANNOT escape!"
Jacob started spinning his chain around his head again and then smashed the lengths into the side of the wooden transport wagon. The chain punched a fist sized hole through the side of the wagon. The transport started shaking violently and a loud chattering noise started from inside the wagon. "This is my second surprise" Jacob said with a predatory grin "You will be fighting one of my favorite practice enemies. They are basic, fairly weak, but they are persistent which makes them deadly. Also me promising them their freedom if they kill all of you and giving them daggers probably helps with the danger." Jacob walked around the front of the cart and rested his hand on the pin keeping the door closed. " I hope all of you can work as a team cause i know these little bastards can" Jacob said as he pulled the pin and threw the door releasing ten goblins out onto the field. The goblins paused for a minuet as the sunlight hit their eyes and blinded them as they climbed out. They would be stunned and blinded for the next few seconds.
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After Jacob had finished speaking, Sean understood little of what he had actually said, but knew two things. One was that the chain he was given could be used as a weapon, and two, that they were to use this weapon on whatever was in the wagon. So while Jacob was going through his rather wordy speech, Sean had been trying out the whip move he had done earlier with limited success. He was used to slinging heavy objects around, but the whip motion required timing and finesse, two things Sean lacked. So rather than struggle with that move during the actual fight, Sean wrapped the chain around his fist and grinned at what he believed to be a clever use for the chain.
He also imagined a rock at the end, but was unsure of how to keep the rock in place... He was too young to yet be taught how to work iron in his clan and so only knew how to use the weapons, not make or repair them. That was a job for the elders who had lost their fire in battle, so that they may still lend a hand to shedding blood on the battlefield.
As the small reptile people emerged from the wagon, Sean couldn't help but laugh. Not only were they small and sickly looking, their swords were smaller than they were. He had been expecting something big and ferocious, like lions or maybe barbarians of another tribe.
"Small things squish easy... not even fit to eat" Sean said as he tensed his body, releasing all resemblance of control over himself and let out a terrible roar as he charged forward, now barreling down on the group of goblins. The fist with the chain was at Sean's neck, ready to slam the back of his fist into the first thing that got in his way, then grab whichever of the goblins was closest and try to use him as a club. This was assuming they stood around and let him of course...
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Rowan had already finished his meal when the gladiators’ grateful host Jacob barged in exploding into what seemed to Rowan as his ‘normal’ banter. Sheesh... He thought with a sigh, as he followed the others out of the mess hall. For now, it was time to try his hand at fighting. It made him nervous to think about, considering he would now have to be much more careful of his movements. I hope I don’t hold them back... He eyed the others once more as Jacob began speaking.
After hearing that his first weapon would be a chain, he was somewhat surprised, though he made note to expect things like this from that point onward. Though Rowan had spent a great deal of time in shackles within the salt mines, he never once used them as a weapon. It also slightly embarrassed him to be given lighter chains due to his size. It made him feel insecure and weak compared to the others, but he wasn’t going to give up yet. I’ll prove to them I have what it takes. He reassured himself. Watching carefully as Jacob gave an example of the damage a chain could cause, Rowan made note of the movements and length of the chain. He already had a plan on how he was going to use the weapon, now it was just a matter of seeing whether it would work or not. On that note, he attached the shackle of the chain to his right ankle and grabbed the other end of the chain with his left hand, making sure to leave enough of the chain to allow for running.
The second ‘surprise’ was not something Rowan was as happy about. Their enemy for the first group battle was going to be a group of ten goblins armed with daggers and a thirst for bloodshed. Though Rowan had never had to fight one before, he did know that the creatures were clever in groups. This unnerved him a bit. We better learn to cooperate quickly... He thought, all while keeping his cold stare. That was, until he saw Sean rushing at the goblins without hesitation. "Damn it..."
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Chains? Really, chains? To say it was unorthodox would be an understatement. What sense did it make to use chains for their first trial? Basic weapons like swords, maces, knives, and hell even a net would make more sense, but chains? Dara could only conclude that it was the sadistic pleasure of their trainer that forced them to use these. He was sure from what his teammates had said about their abilities that none of them were trained to use these; never the less Jacob “encouraged” them to do so.
Dara had wished they had been given some time to fool around with them a bit, find a way to manipulate them to each person’s advantage, but before they could do anything Jacob unleashed a troop of little monsters for them to contend with. He saw Sean attempt a move they saw Jacob execute with the weapon, but fail for lacking the dexterity to do so. After which he saw Sean wrap the chain around his fist making Dara note the adaptive quality of the man. Dara applied the shackle to his wrist, and experimented a bit, a little difficult at first but managing to find a style akin to overhand sword techniques, if he had a bit more practice he would do more but felt this was sufficient for the moment.
The whole time our draconic man had worn a great scowl on his face, almost seething, mostly directed to their “trainer”, he didn’t know who stuck up what in that man’s ass but it was clear that it was way in there. Dara’s gaze traveled to the goblins, chattering and bobbing up and down like small apes getting ready to attack a rival tribe.
The scaled man’s scowl reversed somewhat at Sean’s outburst to the “squish-able” small things, however when the burliest of them charged with out warning Dara’s mouth gaped a bit before shouting, “Sean wait! There are too many…****!” It was now inherently obvious that the barbarian was now deaf to them. He shifted himself toward the others and resisted barring his teeth, “No time for a plan, we have to go in after him. Go!”
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The goblins rubbed their eyes and blinked rapidly trying to adjust their vision to the sunlight. This was a chance for their freedom and they wouldn't lose because of a little sunlight. Suddenly the goblins heard a great roar and loud thundering steps heading towards them. They all turned to look at the source of the sound and noted a great blur barreling towards them. The lead goblin realized the danger to late and received a great thundering back fist to the face in a bone crunching blow sending it flying into its comrades. The other nine goblins pushed their comrades corpse away dodged out of the way of the great man and circled around behind him chattering up a storm communicating to each other in a rapid way their eye sight clearing so they could now take in what was going on. Two of the goblins leapt towards the great mans back holding their blades high wanting to skewer him between his shoulders blades. The other six ,believing that their companions could finish of the barbarian, circled around the left over gladiators still chattering in their unearthly language. They were going to aim for the scaled one first. They hated all draconic races because of a crushing defeat their clan suffered years ago from a group of dragonsborns, and this man showed signs of being related to the race. They slowly circled around the gladiators waiting for a chance to strike if they took out the scaley man then the others looked weak enough to kill easily.
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They could eat them alive..." Will mumbles to himself. After being lead out of the shack and to the small practice arena, he and the other healers had been set up in the stands, far enough away from the arena floor that they wouldn't be in any real danger, and if they were then they'd have time to react. That didn't worry him too much though, he never worried about himself because there was no need to. The Beast was far stronger than he was, and it had the instinct to live no matter what. If he was attacked, and the Beast got out...
Shaking the thoughts from his head he looks back down to the arena floor. The goblins seemed to be adjusting to the light of day, slowly, and the large man, Sean he thought was his name, was rushing headlong into conflict. The one called Dara was trying to call him back, but it was of no use. Sean was gone, dead to the world in a way.
A man like that will rage on until everything set before him is dead... a voice, no, the Beast, says to Will, His people are strong, and proud, but utterly stupid in one regard. They don't think like the rest of your kind in battle...their mind is a blinding white rage...
"Shut up..." Will says, clamping a hand to the side of his head, grabbing his hair, "Just shut up and go back to sleep, there's no reason for you to be awake now..." This made the voice stop, but he was sure the Beast was still watching through his eyes, wanting to see other shedding blood. William was aware that, slowly, the Beast within him was trying to take over completely, but he wouldn't let that happen. He just had to keep fighting, a constant struggle against the darkness inside himself. One day he would lose, he was sure of that, but he wouldn't allow that to happen until he was sure there were no innocent people around to be mauled to death.
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Sean stopped as soon as he no longer saw the goblins in front of him, and turned around in time to see two of the little blighters jumping with their toy swords now aimed for his chest. Sean brought up an arm to defend against the goblin to his left and used his right arm, which bared his chain, to smack the other goblin down into the ground as hard as he was able, the dagger making a slight cut into Sean's forearm, but nothing serious. Blood shot from Sean's left arm as the dagger clumsily plunged in but his berserker rage kept his mind from registering the pain, though he'd feel it as soon as the fight was done. Sean tensed the inured arm, causing more blood to spurt from the wound, and then proceeded to kick the offending goblin in it's small reptilian face, then gave a stomp to the goblin he had smacked out of the air before its wits returned to it.
He cast his gaze back towards his comrades and saw the goblins had brought the attack to them, and somewhere in the back of his mind, where his rational now resided, he felt disappointed that they had not charged with him. Had they, perhaps this challenge would already have been won... The chain on Sean's right arm loosened itself and came undone, hanging loosely at his side as he began to move towards his comrades. Sean grabbed the chain at its base and grabbed the tip with his left hand, bringing it in so that his right arm could hold it as well. He may not have been able to use it like a whip as Jacob had, but now it was like a fluid club, something Sean had a lot of experience swinging around...
He let out another roar as he closed in on the enemy, slinging his chain club downward at the first goblin he got to.
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The draconic man was in fact the first to attempt rushing to Sean’s aid, only to be obstructed by their opponents. The filthy things circled around him and his comrades, but they did most of their sneering at him it seemed, eyeing him as their primary target. At first Dara didn’t understand why, but remembered the fine scales alluding to his heritage, they seemed to recognize that fact about him.
In a short distance the draconic man witnessed Sean dispatch lingering goblins quite well, though he did seem to suffer a minor injury that the barbarian failed to, or rather couldn’t notice. One of the buggers shouted something at Dara, probably some obscenity in their language and made an obvious charge at him. Dara had been making over handed swings with his chain the whole time, keeping the kinetic energy going, so when the goblin went for Dara he whipped at it with moderate ease, smacking its face in a brutal way, not lethal however as more than likely it would leave only a nasty bruise, in the least his target was disoriented. It was unfortunate that his peripheral vision did not catch its comrade leap into the air.
The goblin jumped to a rather impressive height for its race, as its dagger was on a direct course for the draconic man’s heart. Reacting barely in time Dara shifted so that the filthy thing’s weapon sunk into only his left shoulder.
It still hurt though, a lot.
Dara barred his teeth from the unprepared pain, as his golden eyes met the sickly yellow ones of the goblin. He did not think to remove the little ******* hanging on his shirt but instead pulled a more reckless move; Dara inhaled and a burst of fire escaped his lips, igniting the daring enemy. The others watched as their comrade screamed in burning agony as its flesh began peeling away. If they were to look closely into his eyes, they would see that the pupils weren’t quite as round as before. Dara released one more burst of flame at them, it made no contact for they promptly backed in the opposite direction, even the previously disoriented one, and such was the plan.
The draconic man took his right hand and grabbed the hilt of the dagger still lodged in his shoulder, he struggled to maintain a face imposing no pain as he pulled it out, looked at the goblins and bellowed, “Now I’m pissed!” It was too bad that was more bravado then promise behind those words, for at the moment his left arm was little less than inoperable excluding the pulsing pain, and that little fire show, while a few flames had been placed burning a few isolated weeds on the field that served as a thin barrier between them and his comrades, had dried his throat leaving a burning sensation. It was more bluff than bite meant to demoralize the enemy with the incineration of their comrade and display of his power over the flame. He could not risk puffing out more steam than that and be lucky enough not to receive internal injury.
“Any time now guys…” he said in a low, and somewhat hoarse voice. Although he had taken more burdens then he anticipated; Dara was still willing to continue, he could ignore the pain for now. In any case, as always winning the fight meant one step closer to his and his family’s freedom. He’d be damned if he would fail now.
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Kelyren leaned back as far as he could without falling over, a bored look on his face. He tried not to watch the combat going on in the ring, he simply tried to enjoy the day as best as he could with the sounds of battle reaching his ears. He already knew what was going to happen. There would be bloodshed, wounds, broken (or severed) limbs, and death. Hopefully none of the deaths would occur among the gladiators' team...
If I have to put someone back together on my first day with these guys, there shall be hell to pay, he mused.
He sighed softly and turned his attention momentarily towards the arena. Dara and Sean were already in the thick of battle, Kelyren was quite certain that he'd be patching up one or both of them after the fight. They might be big and strong, but it was usually the hotheaded ones who got received the worst injuries.
Or perhaps, if I'm lucky, the other healers will beat me to it, and I won't have to bother with healing anyone today. He smiled, tilting his head back to stare aimlessly at the sky.
"Shut up... Just shut up and go back to sleep, there's no reason for you to be awake now..."
Kelyren looked down and glanced curiously at "Fangs", unsure of who the other man was talking to. "Huh? I didn't say anything... And it's a little too early for a nap, don't you think?"
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The goblins backed off as one of their brethren fell to the ground dead his charred corpse making a sick crackling sound as it landed. The goblins backed off more to plan their attack ; the scaly man was more viscous than they thought. One of their brethren had died and another was knocked out by the scaly mans chain, another was burned to death. There were only five of the goblins left and they didn't want their numbers to decrease any more. They didn't notice the big man coming from behind them until one got bashed over the head with a chain knocking it unconscious. The final four goblins were desperate and they didn’t know how they were going to survive.
They chattered amongst themselves as they retreated away from the giant of a man, trying to figure out how to win. They decided on the two women ,the small male, and the masked man they seemed the weakest and easiest targets and at the very least they would be to kill them before they die. They rushed headlong running full throttle at the four gladiators hoping to take out the weakest links. They dodged around the two imposing gladiators and struck at the small ones one jumping at the elf woman attempting to impale her through the heart, another trying the same to the masked man. one other ran at the small human woman aiming to gouge out her eyes. finally the last goblin attacked the small human male, running at him with his knife held straight in front of him attempting to impale his adversary.
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Rowan couldn't help but smirk as he watched the fight going on in front of him, it was obvious that the gladiators, or specifically Sean and Dara were winning this match. However, it seemed that he and the others would be the targets of the remaining goblins attacks, and Rowan wasn't going to allow himself to be hurt here. It was just the beginning after all, and he had to make himself known as a strong combatent before it was too late.
Watching the movements of the goblin quietly, he knew it had a similar fighting style as he did, albeit the goblin seemed certainly more confident about his abilities. Rowan began hopping in place momentarily, as the goblin ran at him. Timing it as best he could, he lept into the air and arced himself forward, landing on his right hand while the other still held the chain. He paused momentarily, as he hadn't considered the weight of the chain itself. He recovered and crouched quickly, sending himself into a spin, low to the ground. He extended the leg to which he had attached the chain, and releasing the chain, extended the range of his whirlwind-like kick at the goblin. Hopefully, the goblin wouldn't have time to react to Rowan's quick movements, despite the hesitation he had for a moment.
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Leilatha just stood there watching Dara and Sean fighting the goblins. They had done quiet some damage to the goblins but have themselves suffered some injuries. If only they did not take this fight so serious. All these emotions that they are feeling which each attack that they are making was only hindering them. This battle is not about realising your anger on these creatures it is about working as a team. She shuddered a little at the word as it is not a favourable or common word in her vocabulary.
However, her attention was swiftly turned away from the two noticing how the four remaining goblins dodged through them and headed towards the rest of the team. She kicked the chain from the floor up catching it with her right hand. She noticed that it seemed rather lighter than she had expected it to be. So you think I am one of the weak ones Jacob. We will see about that. Just then one goblin leapt up towards her his dagger pointed straight at her heart. Leilatha was caught of guard by the power of the leap and fell back onto the gravel ground but not before she pulled the chain across the front of her chest like a shield. She gripped tightly with both her hands as the goblin forced the dagger down on her only to get it stuck in one of the chain links.
The goblin did not look happy and with all his might continued to push down on the dagger as Leilatha tried her best to keep the chain up high enough so the dagger did not touch her skin. She found a quick opening noticing the goblin giving a little way and twisted her hands around forcing the dagger out of the goblins hands before she kicked him off her. Leilatha did not watch where the goblin went flying as she rose to her knees realising dagger from her chain grip. But before she could reach out for the dagger and kill that annoying goblin, an intense rush of pain swept over her coming from her ankle. It sent her crashing to the ground in a cry of agony. A few offensive words also escaped her lips as she clutched her ankle filling the warmth of her blood on her fingers.
She could hear the stupid mongrel dancing around happily kicking her in the back. She knew that all the others would be watching her. They would see her as being weak.Pathetic! You can’t even take down a small goblin. Leilatha knew what she had to do and exhaled deeply before without hesitation jerking the dagger out of her ankle and reaching out for the goblin. He was prancing around way to close to her allowing her to stab him in the foot with the dagger. She then pulled the chain around and shuffled towards the goblin as he hit the ground crying in pain. He hit her in the face but not before she wrapped the chain around his neck. His hit knocked her head back a bit and most defiantly broke her nose but the pain shooting up from her ankle seemed to drain out all other aches.
The goblin grip the chain around his neck trying to pull it off but Leilatha held on as tight as she and at the same time trying to stop her head from spinning from the hit. It didn’t take long before the goblin stop struggling and ran out of breath. Once she noticed he was dead she let go of the chain and pushed herself weakly away from the goblin. Leilatha just laid on the gravel biting her bottom lip a little as she allowed the pain and throbbing to sweep across her body.
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The goblin running towards Rowan tried its best to pull up when it realized its enemies whirlwind kick. The creature tried to pull back, but his momentum was too much to stop. He ran straight into the attack getting kicked three time getting whipped in the face with the chain the first hit stunning it. The other two kicks smashed into the goblin sending it spinning away unconscious.
Jacob had positioned himself in the stands to get a better view of the fight. They weren't doing that bad, at least they weren't dead. He noticed that one of the gladiators weren't moving to defend themselves. "Has he given up on life" Jacob mused to himself.Well the more that die now the less likely that the others would lose later on.
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Adriac merely stared at the chain in his hands, pondering how he could use it not to fight, but to make his escape. However when Jacob shouted something about tracking spells on all of them he wanted to believe he was bluffing, but knowing his luck that promise would be followed through. He neglected to put the shackle on, preferring to have his limbs free and attempted movements he saw Jacob and Dara do, but without much finesse.
Now he suspected both Sean and Dara to be interesting fighters or power players, but he wasn’t prepared to see what happened next. Dara had taken a wound to the shoulder, making Adriac half expect him to falter allowing the goblin a finishing strike, but instead he saw the man literally spit fire and remove the dagger still biting into him. Well that’s…different, the archer thought. Soon after though, Adriac was in a similar situation.
One of the filthy things went in for the kill as it leapt for his heart. Almost not reacting in time Adraic stumbled backward a bit, catching the bugger’s attack, or more specifically its weapon hand. He stole the dagger from the goblins fingers, abandoning the chain in exchange for a more practical weapon. Perhaps it was “unfair”, but if he was fighting in the coliseum wouldn’t it make sense to take the enemy’s weapon for your own if you had none? The masked archer saw the chain not as a good weapon but a hindrance, the dagger on the other hand he could use, and he did so as he tensed his arm backward in a throwing position, aimed right between the goblins eyes and hit the mark expertly. When the new corpse slumped to the ground the masked archer went to retrieve the weapon, surveying his surroundings to make sure he wasn’t caught off guard again.
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It was interesting seeing how the gladiators fought… or didn’t fight. The rules that they chose to follow and refuse. She saw how some made the chains an asset, others tried to ignore them and one that refused to wear them. The rebellion in training. She arched a brow. Jacob did things for a reason, or, at least… that was what she had come to understand through watching various trainers. She didn’t move any closer to the training, for she would be even more of a distraction than she would be a help. She watched, detached, as one of the women fell. She kept her eyes trained on her, but she still refused to go into the fighting ring. Healers weren’t permitted to interfere in any match. They had to wait until the fight was finished and clean up as much damage as they could.
She looked down at the brown, dead patch where she had leeched the magic from, feeling the excess burning through her core-system. In thanks, she sent some back the ground, allowing the promise of life to flow again soon. Her magic was dependent on the cycle of give and take. She gave to heal the gladiators, taking from her core-the essence of herself-, but in order to replenish, she took from the ground, from nature and in thanks, would ensure that the area was planted again, so that magic could flourish inside the seeds. Her belief, the Aubade belief was that everything had magic. Some had latent magic that couldn’t be used by them, others had magic that could help with small things, and some became like Sylvani. The healers. Those of her kind that couldn’t access their magic were trained to be warriors, those that could do the small things with magic were often the farmers and tended to the animals. The nomadic Aubade had an use for everyone and everything, and magic – that resided in the spirit of the person – was used as well.
The Aubade woman scratched her arm idly and continued to watch the fight. Goblins, she didn’t hate them, and she didn’t love them. They weren’t the fiercest of enemies, nor were they the weakest. A fitting test for those that had yet to be brought into the Arena. Still, she really did hope that no one would die in training. She sneezed, the magic itching at her nose before it settled, and she was able to continue her silent, predatory watch. Her eyes sought out the other three healers, and she nodded. They seemed to be paying attention. She just hoped that they were learning about the movements of the gladiators as best as they could. Still, she didn’t focus on them for long. The fight was continuing but the goblins were falling. She looked skyward to measure the time. The fight would continue, she believed, for as long as it took. It was a pity that she hadn’t brought one of her tomes. She considered walking over to Jacob but she felt that she would be a nuisance so she stayed behind him, clearly able to be seen should he turn around, but they had more important things to do than make conversation with one another. They both had to watch the fight.
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Bliss stared down at the cold metal at her wrist, glad that they had seemed to be one of the lighter ones. The metal seemed almost foreign on her arms and they caused her to shiver slightly, the cold from the metal travelling up her arms. She slowly jerked both of her arms up a small amount, trying to get used to the weight. Her mind seemed to be racing with thoughts on how to use them but none came up. She ignored the others as they went to attack the goblins and instead just stared down on her weapons, ignoring the resounding noises around her. She did distinctly hear the chattering of the goblins and kept her ears peeled for them just in case one decided to come too close to her, she really didn't want any accidents, it was her first day after all. Brief thoughts about first impression and wanting to impress everyone fled through her mind before she just shrugged them away, too oblivious to really care about them anyway. She turned her attention back to the chains. She swayed them side to side, noticing how the movement seemed to be jerky, they weren't really items for flowing.
She sighed in annoyance, the chains would mess her up. They would prevent her from being the quick fighter she had prided herself to be and she could say goodbye to counting on her small body to try and get away, now someone would just be able to grab the chains. She tried winding them around her wrists and noted how they still didn't work well, she was horrendous on hand to hand fighting. More than often her opponent would out-power her easily so she struck bodily combat out of it. She unwound the chain from her wrists, trying to swing them once more, noticing that they still didn't have enough control. She smiled suddenly, a full out beam, when her idea struck her. She wound the chain, much like she had before, around her arms and wrists, making the length of the chain relatively shorter. She swung it around, noticing that it was now much more controlled. Maybe she didn't have a huge length of it but now she would be able to use it properly and not mess up, well hopefully at least. She tugged at them, making sure that they were set properly and shrugged, it would prove to be good enough for her; well, until she figured out how to fix them.
She looked up, wincing as the sunlight seemed to attack her eyes and she frowned, the smile leaving her face. It seemed quiet, just a bit too quiet for a battle to be happening. She took a few steps forward, faltering a bit as she almost tripped over the length of chain and resumed her composure once more. It was all the chance she had before a goblin came lunging for her face. Her eyes widened and adrenaline suddenly seemed to burst inside of her, surging through her veins. She whipped her head to the side, knowing that she was way too late to actually get out of the way of its daggers and not wanting to give it a chance to get to her eyes. Her sudden movement seemed to disorient the poor creature and instead of plunging, it only sliced at her cheek. She felt its small hands grasp onto her head and her heads immediately flew to it, only for it to jab its small dagger on her hands. Her eyes stayed clenched shut, not wanting to give it the chance it had had before. She managed to pull it off of her face, its fingers slowly unwrapping around her ears. She threw it to the ground and suddenly hopped back a few feet, her eyes meeting the beady ones of the goblin.
She smirked, suddenly feeling the blood leak down her cheek. She wiped at it with the back of her hand only to feel some more leak out, leaving her cheek a crimson, wet mess. "You're kind of annoying," She commented to it, wondering if it actually understood her. Although it left no recognition on its relatively blank face and she shrugged, pacing slightly to the left. Her eyes stayed glued on the small creature and she froze as it didn't move, the two of them just watching each other for a moment. Although it didn’t last long and Bliss was glad that she had paused because she knew if she hadn't, show wouldn't have seen the subtly shift of its weight before it lunged. Her smiled grew as she thrust out her hands to pause the creature and it landed on the chain. She gave it no hesitation as she wrapped the chains around its now struggling body, making sure that she wound it around his neck. She pulled at her wrists, the goblins eyes starting to bug from the amount of air pushing through its system. She heard as it screamed awful, high pitched noises and she tried her best to ignore them, still squeezing the life out of the poor thing. She winced, feeling guilty as she often did as it died in her hands. The struggles as well as the noise soon stopped and when she was positive it was dead, she unwound it and dropped it to the ground.
She looked down, frowning as she noticed the goblin had probably been stabbing her while she chocked it to death. Small puncture wounds surrounded her hands and a bit on her arms from where it had probably been able to reach, wondering why she hadn't felt it at the time. She shrugged it off to the adrenaline boost, something that made sense to her. None of her wounds had really started to hurt yet, only a small throbbing and wetness from the blood to really prove to her that they were there. She looked down at the small body that she had just murdered and felt guilt rack through her system, suddenly feeling large amounts of guilt crush her. She just looked up at the sun, suddenly having an off thought, hoping that it would warm up the cold chain on her wrist and just continued looking down, not in much of a mood for talking or smiling at the moment, although she knew the feeling would soon pass. It was simply the initial amount of guilt that she felt at the moment, it would leave soon.
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Upon stomping the Goblin he had just smacked with his chain-club, Sean looked up to see Dara light one of them on fire with his mouth... and the shock snapped Sean out of his berserker rage and into a stunned stupor. It was then that he noticed the dagger still stuck in his left arm, and the pain slammed into his head like a...well, like Sean. He winced momentarily as dug the dagger out of his arm, then examined the blade a little. It was small but the way the blade was shaped, it was meant more for stabbing then slicing. He scratched his head, wondering why anyone would want to get that close to someone when they could kill them just as well with a real sword, then shrugged, but kept hold of the dagger anyway, figuring maybe one of the others would want it. It would make a decent tool to clean out his ears if nothing else.
Sean looked up from his thoughts to see that the fight was over, and ran over to join the others, yelling and beating his chest with his fists, then began laughing as though someone had told a funny story.
"Sean crush tiny green people! Now we get meat!" He yelled before picking up one of the Goblin's corpses and sniffed it, the smell causing him to drop the body in disgust. Something that smelled that bad needed to be cooked first. Sean turned toward Dara and smiled, picking up the Goblin again.
"You cook?" he asked, smiling as he held the Goblin corpse in Dara's face.
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He tightly clutched his shoulder to hold off the bleeding as much as he could now that he could use his operable hand to do so, every time he tried to use his left arm he could only grimace. The fight was over, and from the looks of things they had won…barely and against only goblins. Sean caught up with them and beamed over their victory even making a joke of the roasting Dara performed on one of the goblins. But the man was not in a jesting mood, and in fact wore a grim face at the barbarian. Dara surveyed the team, most of were them wounded, none of them lethal thankfully, but that did not appease the grimness that Dara held. Facing Sean, he said to him in a low and even tone in his own language so there would be no misunderstanding, “Next time do not attack without us. Had the rest of the troop not come for us they most certainly would have turned you to minced meat, even as strong as you are. We could have attacked them together but that little stunt threw any plan or formation we could have made out the window. We got lucky today, make no mistake friend.” His tone was not loud or yelling, only enough for Sean to hear clearly and head the seriousness, Dara knew an angry outburst at the barbarian would only prompt him retaliate. As if to emphasize his point for him the wounded shoulder decided to flare up in pain for a short moment causing the draconic man to grimace again.
He turned to the others, most not in better shape than he and addressed them, “I think we learned something obvious here, a mistake I feel I am just as guilty in making. I don’t blame any of you, but we need a lot of work to say the least. And perhaps if we had been given a little more time," on the emphasized word he shot a glare at Jacob, “This could have turned out better, but if we take anything form here it’s this: Do not go off on your own, call for help when you need it, and respond to each other. Believe me I’ve never been the biggest team player either, but I’m pretty sure we understand the necessity of it now.” He let out disheartened sigh, then called out to the team’s attendants, “Healers! We got wounded! The number is-” he paused to do a quick count, “Most of us…”
She heard Sean say something about crushing tiny green people which oddly enough amused her but instead of laughing she coughed up a bit of blood. Nice. She wiped her lip and then sat up staring at the rest of the group as they seemed to gather together. Dara then began rambling on about how what Sean did was wrong and so forth which she didn’t really listen to. Who made you leader? She thought gently grabbing her injured ankle and bringing it up towards herself to get a break. Dammit, looks like one of these healers is going to have to fix that. Leilatha ripped a strand of fabric from her top and tied it around the hole the goblin had made with his dagger. This should stop the bleeding for a bit. She then lightly felt around her nose with her fingers feeling that it seemed a bit crooked. Grabbing it with her whole hand now she cracked it back into place. She shook her head immediately trying to ignore the pain.
Now to get on my feet. She reached up and grabbed the nearest person’s elbow to pull herself up of the ground. As soon as she was straight enough she let go of them, not wanting to seem like she actually need assistance and making it look like it was an accidental grab. Leilatha then turned her attention to Jacob waiting on how he was going to response to Dara and what he had in store of them next.
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Jacob stood up and stretched his large frame as the fight finished up. None of the newbies had died so that was a plus. He walked down to the arena floor and examined the damage that had been done. They weren't half bad... though no where near where he wanted them to be. Jacob smirked at Dara's comment "listen you over grown geko, you don't have anymore time. You and the others are going into the arena tomorrow so I had to check and see which team I should be betting on. Just in case all of you will die and I am left without any source of income." Jacob finished with Dara turned his attention on everyone else. "Healers get down here now! I want everyone in top shape and little miss elf over there doesn't look like she is feeling to well, hell none of them really do." While scanning the healers in the stands Jacob noticed a familiar face. "Hey Ice queen what the hell took you so long to get here? Get your lazy ass down here and help these newbies thats what your paid to do!" Jacob huffed and watched as the healers got to work.
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Sean frowned slightly when Dara didn't cook the goblin with his fire breath as he had been serious about wanting to eat it, though was unprepared for Dara's response. The dragon-born talked to him as though he were a child, as though he were stronger than Sean, and said what he had done had put the team in danger. Sean grit his teeth in anger, his body tensing up as he looked Dara in the eyes, then threw his left hand towards the others, slinging the goblin corpse he had been holding in the process as he yelled in his native language.
You speak to me like I were a child?! As though I am not a warrior?! The enemy was weak and everyone but me hesitated in crushing them. Had you lot of children stopped thinking about fighting long enough to actually fight, this would have been no battle, it would have been a slaughter, and none but the small green ones would have known pain! You say to me not to attack without you, and that luck won this battle, but all I saw was fear crippling you, and weakness resulting in your own injuries! He yelled, nearly spitting as he did so. He panted for a moment as the rage ran its course, and then relaxed himself, still looking Dara in the eye before turning his back to him. This was a huge insult in Sean's tribe, as it is shameful for a warrior to have scars on their backs, as it meant they had turned away from combat if even for a moment. To show your back to someone in this manner meant you were saying they were not a warrior... this had started wars between tribes...
"Treat Sean like child again, and Sean rip out throat" He said before walking away, blood still slowly oozing down his left arm as he joined the others, knowing that trying to walk away to be alone with his thoughts would probably result in another fight... though without weapons he knew he could not survive such a battle. He studied the others and noted their injuries, noticing that none had been stricken from behind. This fact made Sean happy as it meant that they all had courage... they just lacked strength. He reached beneath the belt that served as his only armor and pulled out the dagger that had been lodged in his arm. He looked around and saw that Bliss was the closest to him, and so approached her and showed her the weapon, but was stopped from asking as Jacob started to speak, but gave no commands and so ignored him.
"Happy lady... What sword this?" He asked, showing her the bloody dagger after Jacob had finished speaking.
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Rowan sighed as he watched the goblin go hurdling off to the side after his kick. He stood upright and bit his lower lip in thought. He knew what he had done… He had let up his speed just as his final kick hit the goblin, and instead of killing the creature, he only knocked it unconscious. It was a bad habit that Rowan had had since he had first entered the arena… He didn’t want to kill… He didn’t want to end up like his father… He frowned, closing his eyes tightly.
. . .
“Hey, isn’t that the son of Stark Verrow?”
“Eh? The man who was charged with the murder of over twenty people?”
Rowan, young as he was back then, bit back his anger at the comments his neighbors made. Father… He thought as he walked, staring at the shackles around his legs. He had worked in the salt mines for some time, and had never heard a single good thing about his father. Why? Why did you kill those people…? He knew that his thoughts were nothing more than that, thoughts… They would never reach his father’s ears as it was already too late. His father had been sentenced to death when Rowan was but a child.
“Yea, that’s the one! They say he has the same look on his face his father always did…”
. . .
The sound of Sean and Dara’s talk snapped Rowan back to the present, and he wiped the sweat from his forehead with a shaking hand. He looked around at the others. Rowan had thought that he would be the one to get injured, but in the end he wasn’t. Rowan glanced silently at Leilatha. I wonder if she’s alright? Though, judging from her personality, she’ll probably ignore me if I ask… Despite this, Rowan took a step towards his comrade, but was stopped upon the sound of Sean’s outburst. He couldn’t understand a word the man said, but knew that it was probably not a very happy statement.
At this, Rowan just unhooked the chain from his leg and looked up at Jacob. It would seem that the warriors would be getting a break for now... only to be tossed into the actual arena tomorrow. He walked over to one wall, and allowed himself to slide down it into a sitting position. He had hesitated… had feared what he could become if he killed another… and that in itself could cost him his life. “I’m sorry…” He muttered, staring at the ground in shame
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The fight was over; she was glad to see that. At least the goblins were dead, and she didn’t have to worry about one of them launching up and trying to kill her. Nearly being killed in the ring, not as much fun as the gladiators make it out to be, she learned that the hard way quite a few times. Her left brow arched higher as Jacob called over to her. The expression was clear as she looked over to the other healers. “Let me see what they can do,” she said, but none of the healers were forthcoming. She shook her head and walked into the ring. The sun beat down on her head, making her feel too warm. She understood, a bit, the way that the gladiators were going to fight and she didn’t have the highest hopes for some of them and none of them stuck out in her mind to be one that could become a veteran gladiator. Just another team sent to the fodder unless they were able to work in a cohesive unit and utilize their strengths while covering for each other’s weaknesses.
“I need the most wounded to my left and the least wounded to my right,” she called, pitching her voice as loud as she could get it, which wasn’t very loud. She reached into her pouch, feeling the expensive vials hit against one another, as her hand found the tie for her hair. She quickly tied her hair away from her face and moved forward. “You haven’t been killed. Congratulations for facing your first enemy and surviving,” she said to them. “When the rest of the Healers come down to aid in the effort, I need you to be completely honest. Most of you gladiators are strong in the ring and you think that strength and ability to withstand pain is an asset when you leave the ring. You couldn’t be more wrong. You have a small cut on your shoulder and you ignore it? One day I may have to cut your arm off. I don’t expend my magic for those that have hidden injuries because they were ‘too strong’ to want to tell me where they are injured. I would rather heal small wounds before they become gaping infections. Do you have a sore throat from breathing fire?” she smirked at the man who had done so. She had noted it, but in so doing she was already working out what breathing fire meant and what his weakness could be and how the healers could think one step ahead of the ring and make poultices and potions to heal any injury that came their way.
Sylvani fell silent for a moment. “What a rag-tag group,” she said with a shake of her head. This would be the most that any of the gladiators would hear her talk, unless they became a team that she felt had a chance of surviving and then she would allow the chance to become close to them. Just because she was learning about their habits in the ring and their mode of attack didn’t mean that she was going to sit down and drink a beer with them at the end of a successful fight.
Her hard as ice eyes focused on Jacob. “And you, don’t yell at me,” she ordered, as she pulled out bandages and healing salve. She went to the tall barbarian first, as she considered him to be. She saw that he had a stab wound in his left arm and while he didn’t seem to be showing any pain from the wound, such a wound could get infected if not treated in a timely fashion. The area where the gladiators were put in weren’t the cleanest of places. Her eyes flickered back over to Jacob, “just because I was assigned to your team and was late in greeting them, as if I were the expectant surrogate mother and these are my children,” she smeared some of the pale green salve on the tips of her fingers. She looked at Sean, “I have to put this on,” she said. She didn’t speak any slower, any louder, didn’t enunciate. All of the gladiators would be treated the same and she heard that he spoke in common tongue, broken common tongue, but he could understand things. “This will help fix the wound together so I don’t have to sew it. You’ll be able to move and flex your arm while this heals. When the wound is completely healed, the salve will be absorbed by your skin. It’s made from herbs from my garden. No one has had a reaction before but if you feel any increased discomfort, I want you to come to my cottage and see me, I don’t care what time of day or night it is,” she said. She was brisk, and standoffish, but she wasn’t shirking her duties.
“My last team-member died this morning,” she said, continuing her conversation with Jacob as if nothing had happened and she hadn’t talked to Sean. “He died because he slipped up in the ring. He got over confident, or he got stupid. He was the last one in the team and our wonderful King decided that he didn’t deserve to be reassigned to another team. It’s much more of a blood sport to pit one desperate man with children waiting for him at home against six well trained men with nothing to lose. He was run through with a dual-edged sword. It cut through the leather that he wore as if it weren’t there, broke ribs and pierced a lung. He was suffocating,” she talked as if she was talking about a rainy day that had inconvenienced her. “None of the healing vials I would have worked, the magic that I have would have healed him, should he chosen that, but he had always refused my magic. In the end, I covered my hands over his nose and mouth, finishing the job.”
She finished with Sean and wrapped a bandaged around his arm. She pulled out a much smaller salve and handed it to him. “This goes for the rest of your wounds, please pass it around to your teammates when you are done,” she stepped away from Sean and regarded the rest of the gladiators. “When the rest of the healers come, make sure you tell them what needs to be fixed beyond using the salve. The salve is good for minor injuries. It will not heal bruises, so do not try to use it for that.” She paused for a moment before she regarded both gladiators and healers. “I am here to facilitate in your bodies natural healing abilities. I can speed it up, allow you to be in fighting shape within days, hours, or minutes if that is what is needed. I cannot heal the ravages that come for lack of sleep or food. Those fall to you to deal with,” she nodded to the healers, “if the healers are good, they will cook for you. You can trust their food. I would warn you against anything given to you on the street by a perceived fan, a ***** that you had just paid coin for, or another healer outside of your team. This is a sport that people take bets on and when people have money on the line… anything goes,” she cleared her throat. She hated giving speeches; she’d rather be working in her garden or reading her books, doing something that could potentially make a difference.
Sylvani remembered belatedly that she hadn’t introduced herself, “Forgive me, I was so caught up in the normal horror story that I give my new team that I forgot to tell you who I am. I am Sylvani Nikolaidis-Dwrgg. No one can ask about my mother or father. If you want to know something about that, you can talk to Jacob. He knows more about me than my own blessed-Creator does,” she said, turning back to Jacob. In the gladiator ring, the name of Nikolaidis was infamous. The surname of Dwrgg denoted a long line of healers from a small nomadic tribe that hadn’t returned to their country since Sylvani “agreed” to become a healer. Sylvani’s secrets weren’t secrets. Everyone knew of her parents, and the rumors grew to unbelievable heights when it came to that tragic “love-story”. Girls still wanted an affair with a gladiator who would do what her father did on the last day he was alive. Everyone talked about the Ice-Queen, her demeanor, her aloofness, the rage that burned behind her eyes.
“Everything else you can ask me is fair game. I like the color purple, I have two cats, I am the Ice-*****. Jacob nicely called me a Queen. He’s far too kind. I don’t like healing the same types of wounds repeatedly. I hope that you will all train diligently and become a force to be reckoned with.” Her eyes, for a moment, said it all. I hope that you will all survive, her eyes said. I hope that you will all be able to leave the ring on your own two feet, not carried out on a stretcher.
“Jacob will finish with the introductions as I watch how the healers work,” she said as she moved back to Jacob’s side, the icy façade growing back up so that she was once again silent and distanced away from both the healers and gladiators.
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Sean’s blustering did more to irritate Dara than intimidate, he had hoped the man would understand but the barbarian quite obviously took it the wrong way. When Sean finished with a threat he went off, practically pouting like that child he said he wasn’t. Before he could respond a lithe but expressionless woman appeared, apparently an extra assigned healer for them. While attending to Sean she told the story of the last gladiator she had worked with, having died just today, when she had finished Dara remarked in Sean’s language, “And that Sean, is exactly what I’m trying to prevent. This isn’t your tribe or home, or mine for that matter. Things are different, we are not cowards but staying alive is going to take more than a stout heart, that’s what I meant.You are strong brave, but ever consider why every one of us is under the boot of the king? Because he has soldiers who do more than fight, they calculate, they divide, and conquer. And don't talk to me about cowerdice, my father was once very close to freeing us all, the only reason he got caught is because he rushed it...” Dara trailed off for a moment, retreating to a memory. Hopefully this time he would understand, though if the barbarian tried to make good on his threat he would have little choice but to risk his throat again.
The new healer introduced herself as Sylvani, a.k.a. The Ice-*****, and with her impersonal and monotone demeanor it seemed she was aptly named, the way she casually regarded the death of her former charge. Jaded no doubt, just like the rest of us, Dara thought. The name Dwrgg sounded familiar to him, but at the moment its meaning escaped him.
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William glanced back at Kelyren and shook his head. He hadn't realized that he was talking aloud, or that anyone was close enough to hear him. "Sorry...I wasn't speaking to you," he says in an apologetic tone, giving a small, forced smile, "I had...just dozed off for a moment, a bad dream that's all." Even as he lied, hoping his fellow healer would believe him, or at least let it go at this, he could feel more than hear the Beast laughing at him from the back of his mind.
Thankfully, before anything else was said, the action began down in the arena, and William took this opportunity to turn his thoughts away from the beast and to watch and see what he could learn of the gladiators he would be healing from here on. Sean, the barbarian from a foreign land, was obviously not one for teamwork, not in the same was a others would be anyway. Dara...the scales had confused him a little, but once he saw that he could breath fire it was made clear that he was descended from dragons, Dragonborn, he thought that was called. The girl called Leilatha seems to be indifferent towards everything and everyone, but she was tough. The rest of them seemed brave, at the very least.
As the match came to an end he listened to the gladiators exchange words, mostly done between Sean and Dara, which didn't surprise him really. Suddenly there was a new face making her way into the arena. William had stood up, ready to make his way down to help now that it was the proper time, but seeing her, Sylvani turned out to be her name, caused him to sit back down for a moment.
She must have come around when I was...busy... William thinks to himself, shaking his head.
When the new woman speaks of the healers he stands up again, and once her speech is done he makes his way down to the arena floor. For most people it would take a moment or two to walk back down the steps to the arena floor, but William ignores them completely. From his seat he stands and takes two large leaps, one gets him halfway there, the other lands at beside the wall, and from there he simply walks over, heading for Dara to see if there was anything he could do.
Another 'perk' of being a lycan, he was a little stronger and faster than one would think, and his legs were strong enough to allow for such long jumps, even if he wasn't a particularly good runner. This far along in life he didn't think to hide any suck abilities he had. If anyone asked, he would speak with them about it, but otherwise he'd say nothing.
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"Dozed off, huh?" Kelyren grinned, though inwardly he was skeptical. How on earth could anyone doze off with the carnage going on in the arena down below? "This doesn't look like the best time or place to take a nap, but I guess it's not our decision where our bodies decide to keel over and catch some shut-eye."
wq
He hummed quietly to himself and focused his attention on a passing cloud, watching it drift through the sky. He was dimly aware that something in the arena was suffering a bloody death, but he chose not to look.
If it's one of the gladiators, I'll find out later, he reasoned. They seem to be a pretty solid group. I'd guess that Dara and the bear killer took care of everything by themselves. A smile spread on his face and his spirits lifted. Great. Looks like I won't have too much work to do...
"Healers get down here now! I want everyone in top shape and little miss elf over there doesn't look like she is feeling to well, hell none of them really do."
His spirits dropped like a rock. Damn it.
"Keep your pants on, old man, I'm on my way," Kelyren muttered darkly. He got off the bench, making his way over to the stairs that led down into the fighting pit. As he walked, he kept an eye on the others and what they were up to. There was a blonde woman introducing herself to the gladiators, and he figured that she was their leader of sorts from her attitude.
He waited until the so-called "Ice *****" had finished speaking before moving closer to the wounded gladiators.
"Healer reporting for duty, Ice *****, ma'am," Kelyren said in a manner that was far too cheerful for the situation, and gave Sylvani a mock salute. He looked around, trying to figure out who needed healing the most. "Now, if one of you weary warriors would kindly tell me who's in dire need of aid, that would be lovely..."
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Jacob rolled his eyes as he watched the drama unfold between the barbarian and the fire breather, he really needed to learn their names. The small guy that had done the interesting kick took off his chain and started moping in the corner mumbling something about being sorry. I wonder what the hells wrong with him... He survived without a scratch Jacob mused to himself until Sylvani took his attention. “And you, don’t yell at me,” she yelled ordered Jacob. He just smiled at her as she worked on the barbarian. She seemed feisty today, of course then again he couldn't remember a time when she wouldn't tell him off on the drop of a hat. Jacob listened as she told him the story of why she was here now. He knew that she hated the king with a passion for what he did to everyone, and this show that he put on more than likely add a little something to that hatred. By the sounds of it that fight was complete and utter bull ****, every gladiatorial team should constantly have six men, but sometimes the king decided that some rules should be broken for the sake of entertainment. It made Jacob angry but he would never show it. He despised the honor-less man that called himself their king but there was nothing that he could do about it without bringing about his own death so instead he just pushed the emotion down and resolved to drink it away later on that night.
Jacob raised an eyebrow as she told him how she helped the dieing gladiator along on his way. She was still in the angel of death business it seemed... well whatever helped her sleep at night. Sometimes it had to be done, but that was a though for another time. As Sylvani finished her lecture and walked to his side Jacob took a deep breath and let it out, time to get back to work. The other two healers came down from the stands ready to get to work. "Ok newbies you heard them line up from severity of wounds if youve already been fixed up then go and sit somewhere I don't give a damn where just don't get yourselves into trouble." Jacob turned his attention to the healers "Healers, as for the introductions, Sylvani here will be your group leader. She will be helping instruct you on how to keep these worthless sacks of crap alive!" Jacob gave a wide sweeping gesture towards the gladiators "She is just about the best damn healer around so you can learn something from her whether you want to or not. Oh and I swear to whatever higher powers are listening at the moment that if ANY of you waste my precious time and take the ice queen up on her offer to ask me about her past I will not be happy! Now get to work."
There was the clacking of hooves again as Jacob finished his little rant. What the hell he hadn't ordered any more goblins. The transport cart pulled up in the arena and the driver jumped down. Jacob went to meet the man to see what he was bringing. the driver smiled at him "Got another gladiator for you sir." he said while leaning on the wagon. Jacob sat there for a second confused before he burst out "What the bloody hell are you bringing me another damn gladiator for!?" The driver took a step back patting the air in front of him in a placating motion "Calm down sir, I was supposed to tell you that the king announced that from now on the arena teams will have seven fighters instead of six. He believes that seven is a more entertaining number." Jacobs face turned red as he tried to control his anger "Why the hell was I not informed of this earlier! the more people there are the more the game changes!" The driver backed up a few more steps as Jacob walked forward menacing him "Please don't hurt me sir, Look the king just announced it today, if you have a problem with it then take it up with him." Jacob took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "Get the hell out of here" He said pointing towards the road. "Yes sir, just take the gladiator and I will leave" The driver said a little shakily. Jacob glared at the man "No you get going now, leave the damn horse and cart its mine now... unless you have something to say about it." The driver stood there gaping for a second before Jacob yelled "GO!" and the man took off like an arrow, out of the practice field and down the road. The trainer turned towards the stands remembering the other driver "You can leave now too, take your cart and go." he called out to the man who promptly followed orders. Jacob ignored the gladiators and healers watching him as he went around the trailer and opened it up. Curious who would be inside.
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Leilatha stood there trying her best not to put pressure on her injured foot because she knew that would just result in more blood pissing out of it. Her head started to spin a little as she found it rather difficult to focus on what was going on before her. People seemed to be yelling and telling each other off but it only took a snap second for her to zone out.
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“Hahaha..” the three young elves laughed happily as they danced around in the fields. “LEILATHA….LEILATHA….please come here,” an elder man shouted out to the three elves waving at one to come here. “IN A MINUTE!”
“NO NOW PLEASE LEE, I want you to meet someone.” The red haired girl pranced towards the elderly man blissfully. “Sorry father but I just wanted to play some more with my brother and sister,” she grinned before wrapping her arms around him and giving him a hug. Her father however, didn’t seem to be in such a joyful mood as he pulled her arms away from his body and turned her towards some man she had never met before.
“This is Mr Teliko,” Leilatha gazed up at the dark clothed figure noticing how his fiery red hair was all sleeked back. What a weirdo? She giggled to herself before seeing him smirk at her. The man then stretch his hand out to her, “you must be Leilatha, what a pretty name for such a pretty girl. Why don’t you do a little spin for me?” She stepped back a little hiding behind her father’s leg just looking at the man. Why is he looking at me like that? “Leilatha stop being so shy….so sorry about this Mr Teliko,” her father pulled her forward again and grabbed her hand to spin her around. Leilatha watched her dress come up a bit as she span and giggled. “Again…again….again!”
“She is perfect,” Teliko pulled out and handed it to Leilatha’s father. “That should be all of it,” he looked down at her and smirked again, “want to go for a horsey ride?” Mr Teliko grabbed her by the arm and pulled her towards his horse carriage. Leilatha followed with confusion for a bit before turning around and looking at the father who appeared to be crying now. “Father…” she called out and stretched her free hand out towards him but he just turned his back on her. “Daddy…daddy?” She started to panic. What had her father done? she kicked and screamed trying to get away from this stranger but he was too strong.
She continued to struggle and yell at her father until Mr Teliko lifted her into the back of his carriage. “I want my daddy.”
“We are your new daddies now!” Leilatha spun around hearing a husky voice speak from inside the carriage. “Come sit down…we are going for a ride.” She wanted to turn and jump out but Mr Teliko blocked her way out before forcing her into the seat next to his friend. He then jumped out of the carriage and made his way to the driver’s seat.
“It is going to be alright, don’t fret my little child, don’t fret,” Mr Teliko company gently caressed her leg. Her mother used to do the same when she was upset but something about the way this stranger did it felt wrong to her.
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Leilatha shook her head snapping out of her hallucination. The loss of blood must’ve done this. She tried to forget what happened in her past knowing that it would only distracted her when she was fighting. And it wasn’t like she could change the past. What happened, happened and she was just going to have to live with it. She took a deep breath in and the noticed how the gladiators had spilt into two groups. Unsure why they had done so, she just hobbled to one side and waited to see what was going to happen next.
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As the wagon doors opened Anvain turned her head away from the blinding light now flooding in. How long had she been in the wagon? Hours, days? From the smell around her, Anvain estimated it had been two days since that horrid man had chained and tossed her in the wagon. At least she had been allowed to keep her sword, which she kept hidden under her tunic. It was one of the few things she had to remind her of the forest. The driver told her the reason she was allowed to keep the weapon, she would be taken to a…..gladiator training establishment, where she would supposedly need it. Upon seeing her confusion, the wagon driver informed her it was a place where all manners of creatures fought for glory and honor and they often receive many gifts from the King. Anvain failed to note the sarcasm and smirk on the driver’s face as he spoke.
As her eyes slowly adjusted to the glare Anvain became aware of a human man in the doorway staring at her. Being too exhausted and hungry to care who he is, she just asked in a quiet voice “Is it time to get out now?” Her eyes staring at the dirk caked wagon floorboards.
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Jacob stood at the entrance of the wagon for a moment staring at the pathetic looking elf woman. "What do they expect me to do with this!" Jacob exclaimed to himself. They decided to change the whole premise of the battles and expected him to work with this... gods he despised the king. "Come on its time to go." Jacob said as he entered the wagon and grabbed the elfs wrist. She seemed quite weak which wasn't good, they had to fight tomorrow and if everyone wasn't it top shape things could get dicey. He pulled the elf along behind his and headed towards the healers and gladiators. When he arrived he pushed the weak elf towards Sylvani. "Well guess what, the king decided to add another man to each gladiatorial team because he likes the number seven better." Jacob added as much venom and indignation into the last part of the sentence as he could. "After everyone is fixed up I want you to get her into the best shape you can by tomorrow." His eyes scanned the rest of the group around him. "And why are gladiators still bleeding on my damn practice field!" he shouted at the healers "Hurry it up!"
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“Kelyren,” she said smoothly when she heard her nickname tied with Ma’am. “I am not, nor have I ever been a “Ma’am”, nor am I am Mum if that crosses your mind. Nor am I a Miss. I am either Sylvani, Ice Queen, or Ice-*****. If you think of another name that could fit me, forget it. I worked hard for my names and no new healer is going to change that. Now, go tend to the scrapes and bruises. Find out what hurts on them that can’t be seen by the naked eye. Find out of their ears are ringing. Do something.” She wished that he had something that could help her. “When you’re done, tell the other Healers that I expect all of you at my cottage as soon as Jacob releases you. They have a fight tomorrow and there are rules for the gladiators that you must learn.”
Her attention was taken again to those in need of healing.
There was blood. Too much of it to just be from the barbarian. She had waited for the healers to come down and do some healing but with the bleeding female-elf, Sylvani had no choice. She stepped forward towards her. She heard the wheels of a cart being brought up, but her sharp gaze was focused on the other elf. “The salve won’t work to cure that,” she explained. She opened her bag, as she wanted to see what she had. She swore under her breath. She wished she had some herbs from further north, or the poultice from the south. The Suvaen flower that was grown by the healing woman in her tribe. Something. Anything… she had something. She looked up at the female-elf. “I will get your name after,” she promised, though restrained herself from allowing herself to feel any kinship with another elvish woman. While they were not of the same tribe, or race within the species of elf, it had been too long for Sylvani to ignore that there were others like her mother’s people around. “I will heal you,” she said then. She didn’t close her eyes, or seem to be doing anything different. The magic that she had was the magic that she always had. Manipulating it and making it work for her was as natural as breathing. What was unnatural was trying to get her magic to coincide with the spiritual resonance of another person.
She took a moment, a precious moment to focus her attention. Her eyes locked on the body of the female-elf that had fought well, but had still gotten injured. She felt the natural fluctuations of her body and the natural chord it struck in time with the nature around it. She then concentrated on focusing in the elf-woman’s essence. Sylvani’s magic worked best when she could attune herself with the resonance of another. It took a moment when she first met something before she could twist her magic and make it so it would be accepted by the other. “This shouldn’t hurt,” she commented, as she pushed a bit more magic into the woman’s body that the healer would have liked to. It did nothing negative to her patient, yet, she healed faster. The cells formed an intricate webbing, the blood stopped escaping, the skin slowly patched together and to be on the safe side, Sylvani bandaged the wound. She stood up, her face drawn with the effort of taking what was her soul and twisting it to make it benefit another. “The salve,” she ordered, turning to find who had it then. “Put the salve on when you get it, on any of the scrapes. When you bathe tonight, don’t worry about it washing off. Just apply a bit more. Since you’ll be fighting tomorrow, you need to be in the best shape,” she said.
Sylvani turned then in time to see Jacob, redfaced and angry, with another elfin woman. She stepped forward, caught the arm in a gentle hold and looked down at the other. “It seems like I have a long night in front of me,” she said, not quite speaking to the female but more to herself. She looked for Jacob. “I’m taking her to my apartment in healer's barracks. If I’m going to do anything with her, I need full access. The last thing I want is for her to be killed because she’s been starved. She looks more like bait than she does prey.”
She looked back to the woman and shook her head. “Little offense meant,” she said, the last thing she needed was a defensive elf trying to rip her throat out because she thought that her prowess in battle was being called into question. “You need food,” her noise wrinkled, “a bath and food before I even start to heal you, do you agree?” she asked. “I’ll do nothing without your permission,” she said. That was the way she went. She healed with permission; she killed with permission. Her own set of moral codes.
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Anvain was shocked at the man’s treatment of her, simply grabbing her arm and dragging her out of the wagon. If he didn’t have such a vice like grip she would have hit the dirt her legs seemed to have lost strength after so many days of being tied up, but his grip seemed unbreakable. A brief thought of escape crossed her mind even though she knew it would be impossible with the chains and even without them, she was too weak to run fast enough and she had no idea how far away her forest home was. At least she still thought of escaping. “When hope is lost, life soon follows.” She had been repeating this saying every night; she was determined to stay strong and never give in to the wave of despair that follows a captured elf.
Anvain barely has a look around before the man hauled her in front of a very elegant and beautiful woman. Anvain observed that she was very tall for a human, even in her camp few of the male elves grew to be that tall. Suddenly a wave of sickness overtook her; she swayed and didn’t hear what the tall lady and the man were saying to one another. When the feeling passed Anvain realized the woman was now holding her arm, gently. It gave her a small sense of peace and safety. Then the woman spoke to her “Little offense meant,” she said.
Anvain’s face turned white, unsure what the lady meant. Had she missed something? Would the woman be angry she hadn’t been listening before? Luckily the woman continued talking seeming to be unaware Anvain had not heard anything before. The woman spoke of food and a bath. “Oh joy!” she thought happily, she also hoped the chains would be removed. It had been frustratingly hard to sit with her hands so close together while traveling, not to mention eating.
Speaking quickly she replied, “That would be wonderful! I am very hungry.” A small smile crept across Anvain’s face, perhaps her situation would be getting better. Being so excited with the chance of a bath and food she failed to notice the people lined up behind the elegant woman.
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“Take this potion again before the sun descends, and one final time after the cock crows, and I am confident that you will feel well enough to stomach some porridge for breakfast,” spoke a woman with dark hair whose curls cascaded freely down her back and over her shoulders. She smiled at the small child she had been speaking to and gently stroked the dirt-clods from his short hair. If he were lucky, he would continue with his family's business and farm the land of his ancestors rather than follow through with his desire to take up arms. She sighed to herself as she stood, her long skirt unfurling down to her ankles, just barely revealing the leather boots she wore for comfort and practicality. Her gaze fell on the sword beside the youth, the rusted weapon that had caused the infection she had treated. She frowned as she imagined a limb being forced to be severed if she had not been informed, or worse, an older form of the young boy being run through with a similar weapon as a crowd cheered around him.
In an attempt to stop the violent thoughts that entered her mind whenever she thought of the gladiators, the tall woman turned her attention to the boy's mother who watched her every movement, fear evident in her eyes. The woman was shaking, barely able to stand, though it did not stop her taking a step back as the healer took a step toward her. She paused in her approach and lowered her head, used to the treatment by this time. She was the crazy woman who remained working for the arena years after she had begun, forgetting the fact that she was unable to leave by any means but death. It was thought to be unnatural to continue such work and seem unaffected, that she must work in the dark arts or sacrifice children. The thoughts and superstitions of the town were only promoted by the vile King that ruled over them, and truly, she did not blame them for their misconceptions.
Pandora Gradanias had been affected considerably by the death and injury she saw on a daily basis, but she had her own methods of coping, of not allowing the strain to weigh on her mind. She forced a smile for the other woman and moved to hand her the potion before changing her mind and setting it on the side table instead. “Be sure he takes his medication. And keep that blade from him. It will only cause him more trouble than the metal itself is worth,” she advised, gathering her equipment into her satchel and placing her bag over her shoulder. She was about to excuse herself when a loud banging shook the door on its hinges and two fully armored soldiers stepped through.
The man to the right with the horsehair headpiece sneered at the meager accommodations of the poor and knocked a jar to the floor, sending its pieces scattering the the contents within to lay in a mound on the floor. He turned his gaze to the healer of the room and frowned deeply at her. “You are to be in your quarters when the games are afoot. Regardless of what day your duties fall on,” he stated hurriedly so as to avoid the woman cutting him off. “You are needed in the stables, His Royal Majesty's orders. It seems you have someone worth healing to attend to. Speak to Jacob and get to work.”
The woman bit back her remark, swallowing her pride for the sake of the people who's home she was currently within. She knew the soldiers, they would not hesitate in destroying the woman's meager belongings for her defiance. Her olive eyes steeled to the man she stood nearly at eye level with, the woman brushed by him, ignoring the hand that brushed against her as she did so. She was used to the lechery of the soldiers, though no longer was forced to entertain them at night. It was rumored she had the power to force a man's genitalia to fall off after one particular soldier suffered from a painful ailment the day after forcing her to bed. If those rumors kept the men from coming near her, then she was more than happy to help promote them.
Not a word passed her lips as she made her way to the arena, followed closely by the soldiers until she had made her way into the stables. She reached into her satchel to tie the worn brown cloth over her hair to keep it back as she stepped into the main area, casting a look about her until she had spotted Jacob and The Ice Queen. She had never had the priveledge to work with the other before, but her reputation far preceded her. She was good at her craft and, that was all she really knew of the woman, placing aside the rumors of her lineage.
She stepped to Jacob surely, inclining her head to him in a show of respect and knowledge of his status over herself. He cast a glance at Sylvani and lowered her eyes in the same show of respect, despite her age. “I was informed to report to this team by the King's guards and heal those in need. It is good to be placed in your team again. Perhaps they can last longer than the other band.” She cast a glance around at those in the area, seeing clearly those that had been healed and those still in need. “If you would excuse me, it would seem there are still those left in need of healing.” She inclined her head again and marched surely through the area, stepping around goblin carcasses and charred remains of limbs to approach the man with expressive golden eyes.
The woman stopped before him and immediately went to his shoulder, examining the wound there before beginning to withdraw supplies from her bag. “My name is Pandora,” she said as she poured a liquid onto a cloth in order to cleanse the wound. “This will sting, but it will kill any possibly infection that you may have obtained.” She placed the cloth on the wound and held pressure to it to help stem the blood flow, counting in her mind to be sure it was cleansed thoroughly. A glance to the man's forearm made her eyes widen as she pulled the cloth away. “I had intended to stitch the wound, but seeing as you have draconian blood, you are more likely to mend on your own,” she mused more to herself as she spread a protective ointment over the wound, sealing it from further bacteria, and wrapped bandages about him tightly to keep it well protected.
Once the major wound she could see had been taken care of, she looked the man over herself, looking for any nicks or scrapes that did not belong. “Forgive me, but I had not seen the battle. If you could inform me of any further injury I may not be able to see at a glance, I shall assist you in healing it straight away.”
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Kelyren raised his eyebrows at the frosty reply. "...Okay, then," he replied hesitantly, feeling rather put off by Sylvani's attitude. His pride was smarting from the cold, heartless way she had shot down his greeting. There was an acidic remark sitting on the tip of his tongue, begging to be let out, but he decided against it - for now, at least. He would save the snappy comebacks for later, unless Sylvani said or did anything else that annoyed him.
So she's going to be in charge of us lowly grunts? Wonderful. I'd take literally anything over this woman. I'd rather have someone who's lazier than I am. I'd rather have a hot-tempered maniac. I'd rather have a blundering idiot with no knowledge of healing. Hell, I'd rather have this cranky training master that the gladiators got landed with. Just anything other than this emotionless, arrogant rock. He rolled his eyes in exasperation and sighed, stepping away from Sylvani and turning his back to her. Very well then, Miss Perfect Princess, your humble servant shall carry out your bidding.
He pointed at the unusually friendly female gladiator - he couldn't quite remember who she was, but he vaguely recalled her name. "You. Happiness... Joy... Whatever your name is..." Kelyren frowned, trying to recall who she was. It took a moment or two but he finally managed to drag the girl's name out of memory. "Sorry, I remember now. Bliss. Have you been looked at yet? I think I saw some healing salve going around, but I'm not sure if it reached you."
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Fang had been on his way to help out the dragonborn, Dara, however it seemed the more experienced healers had things taken care of, and so yet again there was really nothing for him to do. Stepping back and looking the arena over, he watched as the Ice Queen from before, he had forgotten her real name already, was tending to a new girl who had quite literally just been dragged out into the arena. From the look of her she was an elf, and rather weak looking, probably from a lack of food and exercise, but he really couldn't judge, could he? After all he looked only a little fitter than her.
Seeing that everyone was pretty much taken care of, Fang puts the herbs away that he was going to give to Dara to chew on to help his throat heal, and instead made his way over to their trainer, the Ice queen, and the new girl.
"I'm sorry to bother you all, but it seems everything is taken care of here," he says in a low voice, trying his best to make it clear that he was in no way trying to be smug or make anything more of himself, "Is there anything else I should take care of? The gladiators with the more serious injuries have been tended to, the rest either have no wounds or have received the healing balm that the Lady Ice Queen," he was still unsure if she was actually a slave like the rest of them or an actual queen of something, and so he used such a title, "handed out earlier. I can do little else here...I'm sorry."
All the same it was true. In his years he had been made to fight, not heal, and so he had only the most basic knowledge of healing methods. No magic. He could use herbs, made simple potions and balms and such, but that was the extent of his healing knowledge. Maybe, however, this queen could teach him something new, so that he would make a better healer and the man in charge of everything, the blackhearted king, wouldn't make him kill anymore. What was the point in killing anyway? So much blood, and pain, and the cries just before the bodies went limp...
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Alaia held her tongue from the very beginning; watching the new formed team with calm curiosity and open ears. The little gathering before the battle she had left the gladiators to become more acquainted with one another, seeing it more important for them to be better familiar with the person fighting beside them for their lives; compared to the healers who were only there to help the unlucky few after the battle was long over with. Then in the stands was an even more important time to keep silent and observe. After all, it was much easier to heal a wound when you witnessed firsthand how it was created.
Now with the mock battle with the goblins passed, and the arrival of yet two more healers - one being announced their leader- and another gladiator; Alaia was the last to follow the others from the stands at the Ice Queen’s bidding. Though the other woman’s words were, to say the least, very tact; she had to admire her ability at healing the female elf’s ankle. Her own magic abilities did not come quiet as quickly, and her knowledge of salves was limited with no tinkling of an idea of how to even grow anything besides weeds. What the young fae admired the most perhaps, and found most shocking at the same time, was the forwardness to take charge. Even the gladiators were to be admired for their ability to jump forward into a fight; though she did have to agree that the doing so separately would more than likely lead to her having more work to do later on down the road.
Coming to stand amongst the gladiators for the first time since their arrival, Alaia did a mental check of each one after jumping at the yell from Jacob of gladiators still bleeding on the field. Who had been seen to already? Who was even injured to begin with? Who looked as if they were in pain in case she had missed something? Yet with relief, she could not find anyone fitting what she was looking for as the the new gladiator was being taken care of; now she could only pray she didn’t overlook someone’s needs.
Relieved with the fact all healers weren’t needed, that left one slight problem. What to do now? She had overheard Miss Sylvani… no, she insisted not to call her that… Sylvani telling one of the other healers they were to report to her cottage after they were released by Jacob; but being the first to leave, and worse yet, having to speak to the overly loud-rude-did-he-seriously-just-say-that man was not something she looked forward to. At least it appeared that another healer was having a similar dilemma.
Head turned slightly toward the trio; Alaia continued to do what she did best. Wait and listen, then act accordingly.
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Bliss grinned at Sean’s question about the weapon. Of course it was no foreign object to her, even if it were a little small to help the goblin's fight. "It's a dagger Sean, it looks a lot like the weapons that I usually fight with. Although mine are usually just a bit bigger and I fight with two of the same, they're actually really fun to fight with," She gave him a large smile, deciding once more that she really liked him, he was a friendly person, and once more dragged her hand across her cheek, trying to wipe away the blood. It did nothing but really get blood on her arm and smudge it on her face. She slightly grimaced and turned around, scanning for some salve to heal her wounds. It wasn't so much that it hurt- well, it did but she wouldn't admit that to anyone, it was the fact that she didn't want blood on her face; it would show how weak she was. She didn't want to look weak in front of the others, she was afraid that they would deem her unable to fight and blow her off as another gladiator that just wasn't worth protecting.
She sighed, looking around at all of the other gladiators and it made her slightly sad. They all had similar stories so there was no sob stories with them, they had been taken, sold or given from their homes and killed others so they could provide some sort of sick entertainment. They were forced to fight and had more than often watch teammates, friends and even loved ones died. It wasn't exactly an easy life but they couldn't really change it. Thoughts of rebellions whirred inside of her mind and she smiled. She absolutely hated killing but if she ever even got a remote chance to kill the monarch that they had now, she wouldn't even hesitate. She would free them all of the lives that they had here and hopefully a better king would take his place.
She just sighed, wishing the quixotic idea out of her head, it would never happen. Even if she were lucky enough to take part in a rebellion, they were the smaller force and would never be able to beat the king. So she just forced the thought out of her mind and grabbed some salve that she saw was getting passed around and rubbed it on her face, feeling an odd tingling sensation on her wound and then rubbed some over her hand, the same sensation tingling with her hands. She smiled and passed it on to someone else who needed it and stared slightly transfixed as her smaller wounds started to close right in front of her eyes. It was similar to what she used to use from several of her older healers but she always held the same sentiment to it, it was incredibly cool. She heard someone talk in the distance and she ignored the speech, deciding that it felt way to cool for her interest. She had just finished killing other things, she didn't want to become more depressed with someone's speech.
She turned when she heard someone talk to her; well she was positive it was her at least. When someone was asking for Happiness or Joy, it was usually a confusion with her name. Not a lot of people usually remember it anyways and the people that did usually just wound out dead. But she felt a huge grin land onto her face when Kelyren remembered her name, Bliss herself having a strangely good memory with names. "Yeah, I just did actually, thanks for wondering. Pretty cool fire breathing trick before actually, I can honestly say I've never seen something that cool happen before in my life. And you get to keep your weapon on you at all times, so that's really cool." She smiled at the guy, liking that he was talking to her much like Sean had done too. She could tell that those two were really friendly and she assumed right now that the others were just shy.
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The explanation Bliss gave left Sean regretting having kept the dagger, knowing it would be useless to him. He decided maybe one of the others would be able to make more use of it and so held the small weapon up into the air and began shouting, "Sean no want baby weapon! Who want? Sean no judge".
After the healers finished their work and Jacob finished his speech, Sean and the others were led to their sleeping quarters. The set up was a little better than what Sean was used to, as His tribe usually slept in half-assed shelters that were made just to last the night or they slept outside. Ever since he was captured, His sleeping arrangements had changed from place to place, so sleep had become easy regardless of the accommodations.
He claimed the cot closest to the entrance and grabbed a blanket and pillow, tossing them onto his new bed. Since his sleeping arrangements had been taken care of, Sean sat on his bed and thought about the battle earlier for a while, looking around at the rest of the people he'd be fighting with. No one else had his strength or size, and so none could fight like he did except for him. Perhaps Dara had been right about not rushing in...
"What plan for tomorrow? Sean want new tribe to win" He said as he looked about at the others. He would have offered suggestions about what to do, but charging was all he knew, and that was bad apparently.
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There was something deceptive about the ice-cold healer as she stood and listened to Jacob’s gruff speech towards the gladiators. Her face didn’t change, but there was a burning heat behind her eyes, a rage that could barely be tempered by her icy demeanor. “Healers follow me please,” she said. She also made sure that the new elf was still within her group before she led them along the same path as the gladiators but deviated to the left and behind the main barracks. The healers’ barracks had a little bit more to them, yet were still guarded just as heavily. If not more so. Gladiators were expendable. That was why they fought. Healers had to be looked after, guarded with an eye towards keeping them hale and healthy or the blood-sport would fail quicker than the king would like.
She passed the guard and opened the main door to their quarters. “This is where you’ll be staying. The healers are kept in pairs, so find someone you want to bunk with and you’re sharing a room,” she explained as she walked down the narrow hall. There were doors lined on each side that would lead into identical areas for rest. Each pair would have two rooms. One bedroom with a barred window, two beds and no decoration and one common room where they could study, make their potions or poultices, or relax. “I don’t care if you bunk male/male and female/female, or if you want to do male/female. It’s up to you. Keep following me. It’s not time to rest yet. We have a long night if the Gladiators are going to fight tomorrow,” she said. She kept walking down the hall. She had been passed from team to team and had grown tired of having to move her things to different rooms. So she refused to move during the last team she had been assigned to. She had to keep some level of control in her life.
“This is my room,” she said. “I’m not bunking with anyone, so I would rather you do not ask. If a gladiator is too wounded, or sick… and does not trust the infirmary, he or she will come here,” she said, nodding to the elf-gladiator that would be taken care of that night. She wiggled the handle to her door, unlatched it, pushed it open and moved inside. It was clear why she wouldn’t give up that room and hated having to move when she got a new team. Instead of two rooms, it was one large room with a bed pushed against the far wall under the still-barred window. There was a cradle full with red shrouds and cabinets full of vials. Her room had a pleasant scent to it as drying herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling. Her fireplace still had embers that she knelt by to stir back into life, pushing the pot back over the flames. There were shelves that held smaller books, tomes, parchments, and maps. A desk was shoved tight facing the wall, an inkwell held a quill feather and sharpened feathers lay off to the side. The chair was pulled out as if something had pulled her from her work. There were three other chairs close to the fire, and a cot by the cradle. Her closet held three white dresses, one red dress and an out of place looking emerald dress that looked too elegant for the healer to have. Above her bed was a red-sheath, inlaid with a black etching of a cheetah. The sword was nowhere to be found.
“Take a seat please,” she said to the healers after leading them into her room. She pulled the tie from her hair, freeing it and allowing the long strands to fall back down to her waist. She busied herself for a few minutes, pulling bowls down and ladling them with the thick stew that she had been brought to her with specific instructions on what she had to do, or not do. “Elf-gladiator, you need to eat,” she ordered. “Eat, and then bathe,” she said. The rest of the bowls were laid out for the healers to take if they wish. “I didn’t cook this,” she explained. “While I am good at what I do, I can’t cook. This was brought to me by a friend. So I wouldn’t worry about poison.”
They could take the meal or not, but her first advice came swift. “Death will make you hungry,” she said quietly, “You’re going to be rushing to heal gladiators. Slipping in their blood, trying to keep their insides from becoming their outsides… you’ll fight for hours to save them, and you may or may not but remember this. You have to eat. You have to remember that you cannot survive just running off of adrenaline. If you get a chance to eat. Take it. Carry bread with you, carry water. because when the fighting is over… you don’t want to have to fight death and hunger at the same time.”
“I’m not Jacob,” she said finally. “He’s concerned with having the Gladiators survive as long as possible, for reasons that aren’t mine. I’m concerned with having the Gladiators survive because it angers the King when the healers are able to thwart his plans, and I love thwarting him, in any way that I can,” she said. “Tonight I am going to ask that each of you tell me what you’re strongest in. Herbs, or magic. If you’re strong in magic… you’re going to learn how to be proficient in herbs. Herb users that don’t have magic…you’re going to become better with herbs.”
She looked at each of them.
She first looked at Fang with his scraggily hair and haunted eyes.
Then to Kelyren, who had tried to crack a joke earlier and learned that she had no time for humor. She saw his pointed ears, nodded and moved on.
The slender, demure female was next. Alaia. If Sylvani could get her name right.
Last, there was the older woman who seemed to have quite a bit of knowledge when it came towards healing.
She nodded to each of them in turn, conveying her respect and understanding for the difficult job that they were going to be facing. She was more approachable in the privacy of her own room than she was in the field.
“There are seven gladiators and five of us. I want each of you to claim one Gladiator as your own. The one that you will heal after each fight. There will be two left over. Whomever isn’t claimed at the end will be healed by myself and whomever I decide to be the second strongest healer. I am not going to tax any of you in your healing abilities in order to find this out. If you think that you are capable of healing two people, then speak to me before you retire for the night. If you would rather not have a gladiator to yourself and would rather shadow me, or another, speak to me as well. But, you need to decide quickly. I need to know how we can best serve these gladiators so a repeat of this afternoon does not happen again.”
Her silver eyes turned pensive as she thought through what she had to tell the gladiators. None of it was fun for her. “Let me tell you about the rules, training, and things I have noticed before I’ll take questions, concerns and suggestions. You are not allowed to have a romantic tryst with any of the gladiators. The King wants to keep the Healers bloodline pure. You are breeding stock to him. You will be with whomever he tells you to be with. Without question, or complaint,” her voice dropped to a whisper in case a guard was listening, “but, if you can carry out your tryst without anyone finding out, more luck to you,” her voice rose again. “You are not allowed to bet on the fight. Healers remain neutral,” her eyes hardened, “you will find the corrupt healers that are going to bet on the fight. Watch your gladiator well. There are those that will try to poison them, or try to slow them down so their bet is nearly guaranteed. You are the gladiators’ best defense. Now, onto training. Start carrying a dagger with you. I will give you books to study from so you can learn recipes. If you can’t read, come to me and I will read to you. Every evening, I want at least two of you here making potions, bandages, salves, balms… whatever you think you need with you. You will make. You won’t buy from other Healers outside of this team. I wouldn’t trust them. One day a week I am brought into the forest to gather more herbs, flowers and the like from the garden that I have, as well as the wild plants. You are welcome to come. If you try to run, the guards will bring you back. I would rather you just stay close and not make a muck of the privilege I have finally gotten.” She tried to think of there was anything else she had to explain, and then remembered it. “Oh yes. Your meals, with the exception of supper, will be taken with the gladiators. When you’re not training with me, or sleeping, you’re with your gladiator. I want you to get to know them. I want you to learn how they fight, what wounds they are prone to getting, what their pain tolerance is, if they are afraid of spiders,” her lip quirked in the corner as if remembering something pleasant before it faded. “I want you to learn all you can about them so that you are invested in saving them, and have the tools at hand that can enable you to do so.”
She finished talking, cast a glance at the elf that she was taking care of for the night. “If you need anything, let me know,” she said. “other than a good night’s rest and a long soak in the tub.” She kept going back to the gladiator, checking up on her. Then, she was back to the Healers. “Questions, concerns, utter confusion at what I’ve told you. If you know the name of the gladiator that you want to care for, or if you think that you are fitting to be my second – or if you really don’t give a damn… let me know. Now it’s your turn to talk, and I hope that all of you do,” she looked towards the elf-gladiator. “That goes for you too. Don’t be afraid to talk or ask questions.”
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Kelyren followed in silence, he was beginning to feel tired even though he hadn't done much of anything that day.
He cast his gaze about the rooms as they walked down the hall, dismayed at the fact that he would have to share a room with someone else. There was only one person that he had ever felt comfortable sharing a room with, and she was no longer around. He bit his lip, trying not to think about that before memories dragged him out of the present.
No big deal, I can just adapt. I don't have to sleep in the same room as whoever I'm with, anyway. I could just sleep in the common room. Or they could sleep in the common room.
He looked around Sylvani's room, taking note of the decorations and all the various odds and ends. He did not sit down, instead, he stood near the door and listened to her. The food was tempting, but he made no move towards the bowls. He would only eat if others did. A nagging little voice in his head told him that the cold-hearted healer did not seem too fond of him, and pigging out probably wouldn't help him look any better.
"I'm not too good with herbs," Kelyren admitted with a smile. "I'm a little more comfortable using magic. I guess I'll have to learn. As for pairing up... I'd prefer it if I didn't have to. I'd rather not focus on any one gladiator. They're all equally as dear to me, but if you want me to find someone to focus on, then I will."
And I don't want to get too attatched to anyone, he added silently, sadness tugging at his heart even though he was grinning lightheartedly. In case they die or something happens to them.
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He winced at the sting of the healer’s medicine, though the pain was more bearable than the blade that inflicted the wound. Dara had not seen this woman before, yet another unexpected member of their team. She noted the tell tale sign of his heritage and apparently decided not to give him a stitch job, while it was true that draconians had a healing factor, in Dara’s case it wasn’t to far from that of the average human, his arm however was probably the best place to receive the wound as it was the area of his body most affected by the trait. She asked if there was anything else injured, in response Dara attempted to speak, at first all he did was croak, but then organized a hoarse sound, “All I need is some water thank you, “ ha managed wincing smile.
It was then he noticed yet another newcomer, this time and elven female whom apparently was another gladiator assigned to their team. Dara frowned again, how can he possibly keep up with all of them? Perhaps it was naïve before, but he believed he could organize the team by getting to know one another a little better and that everything would just fall into place, Like I’m a natural leaderhe chided himself. But of course things did not go according to plan, to think this rag-tag group of misfits could work together cohesively, especially so suddenly was ludicrous from the beginning. Not only that but their first real match was tomorrow!
Dara was almost ready to give up then and there, look out just for himself in the matches, but he knew he wouldn’t last long that way. He realized that as divided as they were they had little choice but to be a team for their survival. There was definitely a hole of leadership needing to be filled. Sean though the strongest obviously knew nothing of tactics and organized assaults, his bravery did him credit but that was all. Bliss was good fighter, but didn’t have the discipline to lead. Leilatha, seemed to regard the others with a certain amount of suspicion, as if she didn’t trust any of them or would bother to lend a hand, that was just a theory though, but nonetheless not apparent leader material. Adriac and Rowan weren’t even vocal enough to regard themselves as the leader type, and that new elf girl just seemed confused.
Meaning that if any sort of director of their little band was to be there…it would have to be him, not that he was going to bark out orders expecting results that would create more backlash than anything else, especially from Sean. Ironically when they reached their sleeping and Jacob left them to themselves Sean was the first to ask about a plan. Seeing this as his chance to subtly assume the role, Dara addressed them, “Well seeing as how we took a bit a beating I suggest those still on the mend pair with up those still fresh and able, that way we minimize continual casualties to those still hurt.”
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The loud mouthed man had just announced there would be a fight tomorrow. Anvain couldn’t believe she would be thrust into the fighting so quickly. He did have a point about everyone getting adequate rest, tiredness often became sloppiness and coupled with a weapon increased the chances of injury or death. Anvain assumed the elegant woman to be the leader of the healers, Sylvani as the loud man called her. The small elf bristled at the comment of “pathetic elf”; Anvain had been a step away from becoming the leader of the rangers in her camp. She’d show him what sort of fighter a ranger could be.
While walking behind Sylvani to the healer’s quarters, Anvain searched for the best place to scale the wall. The guards could be a problem, but she was used to moving quickly in the trees and it would be unlikely they would see her at night. Once she was back in good health she would make her escape back to the forest. Crossing the threshold into the barracks Anvain began to feel great panic; it was terribly unnatural for her to be in a place like this. Many trees had been killed to build this Anvain realized. Having lived in caves and tents all her life she could not imagine a reason for cutting down so many trees to make a fancy shelter. Still she refused to look weak in front of these healers, so she swallowed her panic and walked till the group reached Sylvani’s room. When offered a bowl of stew Anvain took it eagerly and quickly scooped great spoonfuls, hunger overpowering her manners, she looked up and gave the tall women a nod of thanks before continuing to eat.
One thing began to puzzle Anvain, both the man and Sylvani spoke of the healers needing to prevent the gladiator’s deaths. Were the fighters here that careless to cause life-threatening wounds upon each other? There had only ever been one death to occur in her camp from a fighting match, a fluke at that. Forcefully pushing the thought away, Anvain scraped the lasts bits of stew from her bowl. Even though the talk of herbs and poultices did not pertain to her, the elf listened with rapt attention. She had always wanted to learn more of her mother’s craft. Though she was far from home she still had a desire to heal and help, surely inherited from her mother the undisputed best healer in the camp.
When Sylvani asked if there were questions, Anvain wanted to stay silent still unsure how she should act in this strange place. She did have many questions, some she couldn’t ask the healer for fear of being reported to Jacob and ruining her chance of escape. Setting the bowl down, Anvain stood and spoke. “My name is Anvain Koravelki, I was a skilled fighter in my camp. I know a few things about herbs, I have hopes to one day become a healer. I used to live in a great forest, so I would rather be under trees than the open sky.” She did not want to give much information to these people till she knew what their opinions were and if they could be trusted. “Thank you for the stew Sylvani, it helped restore my strength. I will be glad to wash the dirt from myself as well.” Furrowing her brow for a moment she asked. “Where would I find the bathing room?”
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Leilatha stayed quiet through the whole part of the Ice Queen’s healing, she just let the woman do her thing and hoped that her ankle would be well enough for the fight tomorrow. She did however give the healer a slight nod of her head to say thank you before hearing their trainer say something about a new gladiator. Great. Can this day get any worse. She wanted to take a look at the newbie but she was blocked from her view.
Leilatha grabbed the salve that was handed to her by one of the gladiators. She gently brushed it across her scratched arms before she hobbled over to Rowan who looked rather upset with himself. She stretched out her arm to hand him the salve. What’s his problem? Another emotional wreckage. Well at least he does not talk twenty-four hours a day like some of the others. She shook her head feeling rather tired and exhausted before she listened to what Jacob had to say.
Finally they were shown to their sleeping quarters, nothing that outstanding but still better than she was used to. She noticed Sean had already decided what bed he was going to take and then asked what the plan was for tomorrow. Of course Dara was the first to answer. This annoyed her a little but she was not really sure why, maybe it was the fact that he was taking the role of the leader and she didn’t like to be told what to do. Either way she would still listen to what he had to say.
As Dara spoke she made her way slowly towards the pillows and blankets and at the same time glanced across the room trying to work out which bed she would like to take. She took the bed on the end, that way she would only have to lay next to one of the others and hopefully it was a gladiator that would actually sleep and not talk. She heard Dara say something about pairing up. Sure thing, I am hell going to trust a person I just met today. He obviously has no idea how I ended up here…nor will he or any of them know. She throw her pillow and blanket rather aggressively on the bed before taking a sit on the edge.
Her eyes trailed down to her ankle. That Ice ***** did a pretty good job. She rubbed her fingers across it gently trying to massage it a little. Leilatha would wait for some of the other gladiators to respond to Dara’s proposal before maybe speaking her mind for once.
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Dara's words caused Sean to scratch his head in confusion. Partner up? Weren't they already on a team? After a few moments thought Sean threw his hands up in frustration and began pacing about the room, thinking of how he could help the others to not die. His thinking gave no fruit, and so Sean sat back down on his cot and sighed.
"Sean not charge tomorrow until others charge. Sean find biggest thing on field and kill. Plan?" He said looking hopeful towards the others. His brain had no room for tactics, but it had never needed it in the first place, and with his strength and ferocity, the others just pointing towards whatever needed to be killed was probably the best use of his talents. It was, after all, all he knew...
"Whoever want most killings be Sean's partner" Sean said with a giant grin, then looked again at the others as he judged who had the most ferocious warrior spirit amongst them. He lingered on Leilatha and smiled. "Angry lady look as strong as Sean, You be partner Angry Lady?" He asked with a beaming smile, unaware if his words were only making the angry lady more angry, but angry was good. Sean relied on anger to win. With Leilatha being smarter than him, she could easily tell Sean what enemies to kill, and keep him from getting in over his head.
Sean decided upon stating his plans for the fight, to go ahead and lay down and prepare for sleep, using the blanket as more cushioning for his pillow.
"Sean can't wait for freedom. He will unite clans and kill metal men until they die... Then Sean can battle until defeat" He said as he began nodding off, then eventually falling into a deep sleep... the snoring was not far behind...
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The experienced healer followed along behind Sylvani as she brought them to her new barracks, not too worried for the gladiator she had left behind as she was sure he would be able to get himself a glass of water in his own sleeping quarters. She allowed herself to lament for a moment on having to bring her herbs and instruments to another new room, but such was the life of a gladiatorial healer. As they entered into Sylvani's room, she took a seat at the woman's table when prompted and looked down at the stew before her. She slowly spooned the stew to her lips as she listened to Sylvani's explanations, suggestions, and concerns. When the woman had finished her speech and given the floor to the healers, Pandora looked about her and listened to the concerns voiced by Kelyren and Anvain and made no comment on them. She had nothing to add to where it was her place, not knowing the barracks to know where the wash room may be, nor explaining that one healer could not heal a platoon of gladiators on their own.
When it was her turn to speak, Pandora spoke clearly, not feeling the need to raise her voice very much in the small room. “If it would please everyone, I do not mind cooking the meals. This way, we do not have to rely upon an outside source for our meals. I have particular herbs as well that season food in addition to adding nutrients,” she informed the group, finding that she may as well continue speaking now that she had the floor. “My name is Pandora Gradanias and I have been healing and studying herbs for many years. To say the least, I am quite profficient in herbal healing, as I am without magic.” She looked around at those in the room before speaking aloud again. “It matters not with whom I share my quarters. I sleep lightly, rise early, and tend to be unable to sit idle. I am old enough to be most of those here's mother, and to speak quite frankly, I have seen it all before.” She truly did not care with whom she bunked, though she silently preferred it be a neater person. With the herbs and vials around, it could be quite dangerous to simply place items anywhere.
She closed her eyes in thought, imagining the glimpsed images of the gladiators before her. The only one she could recall was the draconian man, and she opened her olive colored eyes with a nod to Sylvani. “The gladiator I was working on earlier, I know not his name yet, he is draconian. I have had basic experience with those of dragon descent and if no one else wishes to volunteer, I feel comfortable working with him.” Of course, she would have to properly introduce herself to him, as well as the other gladiators in her team. They were all to work together and she knew the 'teaming' of healers and gladiators was simply there to help heal the wounded quicker.
At the mention of the King's tendency to breed his healers, the normally pleasant woman's eyes hardened considerably. “What Sylvani says is true. Unless you wish to be breeding cattle for our king, I have alternative solutions,” she spoke in a soft whisper so as not to alert any guards. “One must gain a reputation. I have been considered bad luck, a curse, and a witch, despite my lack of magic. It is amazing what a combination of herbs can do to the body when introduced in skin contact.” She turned to the men in the and nodded to them as well. “It works well for either sex, I assure you.” She had nothing else to add on the topic of romantic relations. She twirled the silver band on her ring finger and thought of her husband, of where he could possibly be. Such thoughts never sat well with her, however, so she took a deep breath, counted to five, and released the thoughts with her exhale.
“I only have one more thing to add,” she spoke, her eyes solely on the lead healer. “I have herbs, saplings, and equipment in my former room that I need with me if I am to make my salves, potions, and bandages properly. There are some... unique items that truly would benefit the team if they were in my possession.” The older woman did not want to divulge too much about her specialties to the group. If it was known what she had, then it would be asked where she had come across it, what she used it for, what the properties tended to be. Questions that she was not comfortable giving the answers to, especially not with so many listening walls surrounding them.
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Leilatha’s ears perked up a little hearing someone say ‘angry lady.’ For some reason she knew the person was addressing her since clearly the only females were her and Bliss and Bliss was not an angry woman. Her eyes trailed to the barbarian Sean who appeared to be smiling at her rather happily. She however, did not return a friendly smile instead just glared at him. She recalled the fight they just had moments ago, analysing Sean’s moves before determining if she would actually partner up with him or not.
His fighting skills were not as bad as she had expected, the only problem she could see with him was the language barrier and the fact he runs into danger. But then again while he is smashing and crashing causing the most damage as possible she would be able to then go through and finish of the enemy. She was known for beating her enemy further then is needed. Some gladiators would finish once their enemy was laying on the ground dead. Leilatha however would continue on the fighting. In many of her fights the guards had to be called in to pull of her opponent because she would not stop. Although she never meant to beat her enemies so much that she disfigures their face making them unrecognisable she can not control herself. Something inside her sends her off and she loses focus on what is going on.
Leilatha flicked her red hair out of her face trying to focus back on what was going on before her. She was rather surprised at the fact that Sean thought she was strong. Clearly she had suffered the most damage in the fight but still that larger man believed that she was a tough fighter. She was going to ignore the compliment because she knew that arrogance was a great weakness to gladiators. Being able to talk about what a great fighter you are will not win you the fight. However, if you can back up your trash talking that would be another thing. She was also questioned the fact that he decided to pick her over the others. Some of the others had unique abilities and powers while she was just an average gladiator so to speak. Although she might have some hidden skills they were nothing compared to being able to breath fire.
She sat there for a few moments making her final decision. “Okay…I will be your partner,” she spoke the last words rather faintly. Although Sean was going to be her partner and therefore she would be accepting full responsibility of having his back covered, she was not going to go out of her way to do so. For all she knows he might not cover her. Leilatha had said what she needed to and laid down on her bed, pulling the blanket over her as she gazed up at the roof. She closed her eyes but kept her ears fixed on the conversation.
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Bliss walked into the room, looking at the neat line of cots that seemed to just fit against the wall with slightly smaller than moderate spacing between them. She smiled at the promise of the warm blankets and pillows that seemed to dominate her line of sight. The room was a huge improvement from what she had stayed in last time, not to mention that she would have some company which would keep her from getting lonely, which was a lot more than what she had had the last few places. She smiled, although kept it so it was just a small quirk of her lips, hoping that no one would see it. It was nice to have people around her, it would prevent her from getting too lonely as well as give her the motivation she would need to keep on fighting and stay alive. Not that any of the others would probably realize it, she just assumed that all of the others would think of their team as some fighting advantage but it also helped Bliss much more emotionally, know that the company would help keep her spirits up as high as she wished them to be.
She walked over to one of the middle beds and placed her pillow and thin, scratchy blanket down on the surface, hoping that she would be able to sleep once the conversation would die down. She hated when her insomnia acted up, it made her careless and sloppy in battle, something that many scars that could never quite be healed by her healers, could prove. She knew that they littered most of her body, a few smaller ones on her face included. But all of them had their battle scars, it was what proved how strong of warriors they were, they had to be to be placed in the team. Like the angry man had said before, they were selected in the team for a reason and Bliss was still mulling over the small fact of how she had been sent. She knew that she had yet to die in the battle, which was miraculous in itself, but she had no real techniques in her fighting, she relied too much on the fact that she was faster than a lot of the other gladiators and could get that cut in.
She just sat on her head and clipped the cold chains and placed them on the floor beside the bed, sitting cross-legged on the bed, suddenly hoping for some conversation to try and stop the images of the dead goblins to sneak into her mind, drive her mad with regret. She sighed and listened desperately as Dara made a suggestion, it was a good one at that. Sean was quick to answer and his reply made her grin, yes, Leilatha did seem like a strong fighter. Bliss like the girl, she seemed strong both physically and mentally and seemed like the type who wouldn’t put up with disrespect if some unfortunate soul happened to show her just that. Her cold exterior made her wonder if it was her trying to hide away layers of herself, afraid to befriend and trust others just to get the crushing disappointment of knowing they had died. Or perhaps it was someone that had made it that way, a bad childhood or perhaps how she even got to get there, a lot of storied of how they had arrived to be a gladiator was never really a happy one. Bliss wanted to see the girl smile, as well as half of the other team. As far as the smiles she had seen from them yet . . . well . . . she really hadn’t. It made her sad knowing that they weren’t taking the most out of their life.
“It does sound like a good idea actually, maybe we could get with someone that would strengthen our fighting and we could work as a team. I mean, we could do it a lot of ways, putting a strong person with a fast person would take away the hole of weakness, but putting two strong people together and two swift people together, well, wouldn’t it bring out their advantage? I mean, both is good and I’m seriously not picky with who I get paired with . . . you know, as long as they can stand getting their ear talked off,” She smiled and gave Dara a wink, showing that her statement was only half off a joke. Well . . . it was more than a humorous statement, one that would in fact be very true. She knew she wouldn’t be able to stand not talking, it would probably drive her mad.
She turned her head, a smirk dancing on the edges of her lips as she saw Sean already passed out, wondering how the man had fallen asleep so easily and felt a small shock of envy pass through her system, sleeping proved to be difficult with her and her dreams would taunt her of things that had happened. She had more than a few times found herself to wake up thanks to her own shrill scream and she hoped that none of that would happen here, all of the others would probably just let her die because she would be taking away hours of their sleep. She shook her head, forcing the thoughts out of her head and trying to focuse herself back to the present and see what was happening.
“I mean, it would probably help us get to know each other better, just because we’ll probably be fighting along side for the next while and it would probably be nice to know about the others,” She smiled, hoping that the others wouldn’t feel awkward from Bliss wanting to know about them. She didn’t want their life story, although she would probably love to listen to them, she just wanted to know what they liked outside of fighting, maybe what they wished they could do or if they had any loved ones back at their home.
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Sylvani needed all of her healers to be in top form, especially for the fight that would happen soon. She wished that the one healer had more gumption and the displeasure showed on her face when he voiced that he’d rather not chose one. “I would stop trying to save yourself heartache by not getting close to them. None of them are near and dear to you if you will not pick even one to save,” she said coldly. She had given the Healers the option to not have a gladiator, but never thought that one would ask that he not have one. She shook her head, unsure what to do with him. She’d think about it later when she had time. At that moment, she had the other elf to take care of.
Her attention focused on Anvain and she nodded, pleased to see that the other had finished her stew. “If you wish for more, help yourself,” she offered as she stood, gesturing for the others to wait while she opened the door to her room. “I require water,” she said to the guard stationed outside. “Bring me seven pails of well water,” she said. The guards knew that it wasn’t best to anger a healer. Not when they came to healers for their craft as well. For a moment the Aubade woman softened and she handed a small pouch of herbs to the man, “for your wife,” she whispered but then they were back to being Healer and Guard. He left and she returned, the door closing behind her. “Anvain, you said?” Sylvani questioned quietly, “Jonathon, the guard outside, will be bringing in water and I will set up a privacy screen so you can bathe in peace,” she said.
The name of the guard reminded her of something else. “If you are wise, you will learn about the guards. Which ones you can bribe, which ones are friendly and which ones to avoid at all costs. Jonathon is my guard. His wife is pregnant with their first child and suffers from anxiety. I know this because he told me. I give him herbs to help and he turns the other eye when I need him to. Utilize the people that you can. Avoid the people that you can’t. If your gladiator becomes your friend… while it is hard, you are more than likely to fight harder for him. Your heart will break and your soul will die a little at a time with each death that you can’t prevent, but you can overcome it, if you’re strong of will and you all have to be. You’re healers.”
Her eyes moved to Pandora. Listening to the woman speak. She heard the wisdom in the elder woman’s voice and was smart enough to not feel threatened by it. “All right, Lady Pandora. If you would care to assist me in the greater wounds, even without magic, I would appreciate it,” she said. “If you wish to care for the man you named, he is yours. There are others that we can tend to but we will worry about them once I can remember their names,” she said. “If you have herbs that you don’t trust in your room, you are free to put them in mine. My…” her voice cracked and she stopped, composing herself. She continued on, her previous vulnerability gone. “My previous gladiator warded my room. That was his strong suit. Wards. Protection. It won’t dissuade all, but it will dissuade the weak of mind.”
She quieted, the fire crackled and warmed the room as she looked outside. It was getting dark. There was a push on the door and the guard returned with a handful of women, each with pails, upon seeing Sylvani, they placed them inside and quickly left. A black dog wandered in, sat at Sylvani’s feet and barked. She petted over his massive head, leaned down and hugged him. “Bring him in,” she said, pointing towards the door. Before any could ask questions, she explained. “That black monster is named the Brute. He is a herding dog, a guard dog. Not my guard but someone else’s.” It was clear that she had been lying earlier when she said that she didn’t share a room.
“Anyway, healers… please, finish your stew while I go prepare Anvain’s bath and answer any questions that she has. If you’d like to look through the books or discuss among yourselves, please do so,” she said before she got up to pick up the pails and move them to the bathtub. It was a tedious process of dumping the water in and allowing it to heat before the fire before adding more water and repeating the process, but in the end, the woman would have a heated bath.
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Kelyren raised his eyebrows. "Who said I'm trying to save myself heartache?" he asked. "If I was trying to save myself heartache, I wouldn't be here. Oh, wait. The arena owns me. Guess I've got no choice in the matter." He shrugged, giving Sylvani a cynical smile, wondering why such a cold-hearted individual cared so much about what he might be thinking and who he chose to heal. "You're the boss lady, though. If you think I should pair up with a gladiator, then I'll trust your judgement. I just need to figure out which gladiator to choose. I need one that won't drive me insane."
He fell silent and took in the advice about the guards. It seemed sensible enough to him. The guards could potentially get him in trouble or get him out of trouble, best to have them on his side. He made a mental note to find a guard who looked approachable, and find some way to get on his or her good side. What could get a guard on my good side? he mused. Maybe food. I'll have to see if I can sneak anything from the mess hall.
The brief display of emotion from Sylvani surprised him somewhat. So she did have emotions, she just kept them under a tight lid, which was understandable to him. Kelyren couldn't blame her - or anyone, really - for behaving in such a manner in an environment such as the arena.
He was even more surprised to see the large black animal wander in. The dog looked deserving of its name, but it seemed well-behaved and from what he saw, the dog did not act like a brute. He wanted to pet the dog, but he resisted the urge. He was probably unfamiliar to Brute, and he had no way of knowing if the dog would attack him for getting too close.
"So, uh," he began, eyeing the dog thoughtfully before turning to the other healers. He couldn't think of anything meaningful to say, but the silence was making him feel somewhat awkward. "Guess we're all going to have to choose a gladiator and a roommate, huh?"
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Pandora listened as Sylvani spoke with Kelyren and the other healer responded in kind, reading the ice beneath their words. They couldn't have a division among the healers and seemed a bit more relaxed when the tension in the room cleared a bit. She continued eating until she had finished her stew and set the bowl off to the side. She would feel better making a contribution to their shared space once she started cooking dinner for the healers. She stood from her spot and began to clear up those who had already finished, not one to sit idly about.
Sylvani had addressed her and she turned her attention to their designated leader, a smile blossoming on her face. She gave a short bow toward the younger woman as she continued cleaning up. “I will do so. And please, Pandora is more than acceptable. I shall happily assist you. And thank you for allowing me to assist that man. I shall keep my eyes open for another gladiator who may need my assistance,” she explained. She turned serious when Sylvani offered her own space to store her more rare and valuable herbs. She thought on it a moment before giving a short nod. “Thank you, I do believe it would be best if they were kept here,” she said appreciatively, but kept their properties and what they were more secret. Such information was dangerous if made public knowledge.
The older woman had a guard or two who had asked for her assistance in healing their children and had formed a bit of a truce with them. In this way, she would be able to transport her more valuable herbs with a bit more security than she would have previously. She saw the beastly dog move into the room and smiled at the interaction between woman and animal. A bit of companionship was always good for the soul and she imagined that the dog was the only being this young woman opened up. After finishing clearing the area, she went to the bookshelf and removed one of the volumes, flipping through it idly and making note of a few of the recipes within.
Her attention shifted to Kelyren as he filled the silence and she gave him a warm smile. “So it would seem,” she agreed, setting the volume back on the shelf and moving to the other healer. “How long have you been healing in the arena?” she asked for conversation's sake, tucking her skirt about her as she took a seat again. Healing in general and healing in the arena were two separate things, and one could usually tell when someone had been under the king's rule for a while. “There is safety in numbers, having a roommate. We can work together easier as well,” she added, twirling her silver-banded ring about her finger. “As for a gladiator, it is merely for organizational sake. This way, healers are not bumping into one another or more than one healer rushing to one gladiator's side.” She smiled a bit more strained at him as she continued. “If you do become close to a gladiator, you will feel the pain of heartache is something happens to him or her. It matters not how you close yourself up to it. But we can pull through it and simply do our best to heal those that remain.” It was clear she had known such heartache in the past, and was accepting in that she would feel it again. Unfortunately, that was her lot in life, but she was accepting of it until such a day came as to end the tyrannical rule of their horrible king.
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“You’ve got to be shitting me… how do you expect me to house this… this… THING?”
There was a tumultuous yelling outside of the gladiatorial stables as a man stood in front of the main doors with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like a man that was used to living in luxury. His hands were soft, never touched a sword, his eyes were cold. He made his money on the blood that soaked the arena and this new creature was going to bleed him dry. He knew it. “It’s going to eat more than it’s worth! Can’t you sell it to the salt mines?”
The answer was too soft to be made out.
“I DON’T CARE! I DON’T WANT IT IN THE WITH THE OTHER GLADIATORS!”
The yard fell silent. Everything stilled as his words echoed. The man could be heard swearing as the door was thrown open. “Fine! FINE!” he screamed, “if this is what it comes to, fine! but if it eats everything, I will kill it myself!”
clip-clop-clip-clop---
The steady four-beat moved over the hard floors as the portly overseer led in the creature, jerking at the reins that were around its neck, forcing the creature to stay at its shoulder. “****ing thing probably doesn’t understand,” the overseer muttered. “Where am I going to put you?” he asked the creature. He led it down past other teams that stared openly at the liminal beast. Such an expensive creature and it was in the ring. What had it done? What team was it going to be placed in? Where was it going to sleep?
The creature was a domesticated Centaur. They were taller than their wild brethren, their colors varied more, and they were built for speed and endurance. They were the perfect blend of animal and man. The man-half reached the nominally impressive height of 5’8. Tall for his breed. His hair was dark brown, tousled around his pale face. His eyes were pale, nearly white, a rare color for any horse breed, especially those that were the racers. His chest was devoid of any clothing, showing his lean but muscled chest, his strong arms and broad shoulders. The brand of his first owner shown on his neck, his mouth had hard scars from the harsh bit that had fallen from his mouth. His human torso blended seamlessly into the ebony flesh of the horse lower half. Scarred at the sides, the ribs on the horse had started to show. His withers had a splash of white, as if someone had thrown paint over him.
The overseer stopped in front of Bliss and tossed the reins down on her bed. “Take it. Your new teammate. Meet Cutlass-Prince,” he sneered as he patted the shoulder of the creature. “Gods help you, you’re going to bloody need it,” he said. His eyes roamed over Bliss’ body, lingering here and there. “Watch yourself around this one. You know what they say about Centaurs,” his voice dripped with insinuation before he turned to walk away.
Cutlass shifted and kicked out with his back leg, catching hoof to the man’s knee. Perverse pleasure shown in his blue eyes as the man’s leg bent at an impossible angle and shattered. The centaur turned and glared at the man who writhed in pain. “You are more likely to harm a woman than I am,” he said smoothly before he turned back to the woman who had been tossed his reins. “Excuse me, Miss.” He bent down to pick up his reins and lifted them up, removing them before he tossed them to the floor. “You’ll want that back,” he said to the overseer, “I am not allowed to own property, tack included.”
He shifted and tried to figure out where he’d lay. He was a large creature and there wasn’t much room for the human/humanoid creatures. He sighed. The world was not meant for a centaur. He stayed standing, his tail flicking to the side to brush off a fly that had landed on him. He didn’t comment further on why he had been made a member of the team, or what his strengths were. It was clear that one blow from him was enough to shatter bone, but that was the same from any horse or centaur. He wished that he had his guitar, that would be enough to soothe him. Instead, all he could do was try to keep his mind off of what would be coming the next day. Fighting. He hated fighting, but he would because that was what he was told to do. “Don’t worry Miss,” he spoke quietly to Bliss. “Whatever you’ve heard about Centaurs… we can’t be as bad as some of the humans.” He spoke well, for what a person would consider a ‘beast’. His voice was rich, but had a grave undertone to it, as if he’d seen more sadness and hardship and was used to his lot in life.
His was a broken spirit in all sense of the word. A centaur had to be broken before he’d willingly race in that sport, before he’d agree to carry a human on his back. Gone were the proud creatures they had been, in their place was a misunderstood, and vilified creature who wanted nothing more than sweet grass and someone to itch the scratch that was at his back, between his shoulderblades.
He’d give anything for someone to do that for him.
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Oh, great. Here comes the questions. Kelyren hesitated, thinking over the older woman's questions. Was she genuinely curious about his past, or did she have other motives for asking?
"I've been healing for a while," he said casually. "I'm not exactly sure how long, though. Didn't keep track of the months going by." He gave Pandora a charming grin, hoping she would not pry further. A flash of something shiny and metal metal on her hand caught his gaze, and he glanced down at the ring. Perhaps the guards and overseers of the arena were not as tyrannical as he had heard, if they let this woman keep her jewelry.
"Safety in numbers," he echoed, and frowned as he felt a twinge of worry. "Does this mean there's something that might threaten or endanger us? I'm not paranoid or anything, just want to know if I should be looking over my shoulder."
He weighed the pros and cons of sharing a room with the older woman. She seemed like an even-tempered, kind sort of person, which meant he'd probably get along well with her. On the other hand, she was ... well, female. The thought of sharing a room with a woman (and an older one, at that) made him slightly uncomfortable.
"If you think we should be roommates, that's okay with me," Kelyren said in a relatively neutral tone. "From the looks of things, I could learn a thing or two from you."
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It was very tempting to accept a second bowl of stew, but Anvain knew that after eating so little during her entire captivity; it would be best to build up the amount of food she ate gradually. Moving to stand at Sylvani’s shoulder, Anvain made a note to begin observing the guards for they would be the reason her eventual escape would succeed or fail. Anvain was pleased the elegant healer called her by name, she had been unsure if she would be treated with respect. At least Sylvani seemed to be kind; though distant as if the woman held a shield in front of her feelings, Which Anvain found strangely comforting because she was accustomed to emotional distance; in her camp it was very strange to see an elf show any strong emotion. Anvain had been the exception causing few others to accept her. Many elves believed her “instability” was inherited from her father; he left the camp before Anvain’s birth.
“Thank you; it will be my first bath in a long while.” Giving a nervous smile, Anvain began to examine the basin. All of her previous baths had been in streams and rivers. She didn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of Sylvani.
When the black dog entered, Anvain had to muster all of her courage to keep from bolting out the door. She normally loved all kinds of animals, but being inside a building built of trees made everything frightening to the small elf. No sky in sight except through a window covered with glass. Staying away from the lounging beast, Anvain helped pour a few of the pails into the bathtub. Once full, she began to unlace her leather bodice. But suddenly froze, realizing her sword was still under her shirt. Would the woman take it from her? Anvain decided to trust Sylvani, letting the sheathed blade drop to the floor she quickly wrapped it in her shirt and placed it next to the tub. Wincing for a moment as she stepped into the tub, the water was very hot, though almost immediately her tired muscles began to relax. It was a wonderfully delightful feeling.
Anvain smiled. Grateful the healer had prepared the bath; it was lifting Anvain spirits and soothing her fears. Taking a bar of soap Anvain began to scrub away the many days of travel upon reaching her left shoulder a bolt of pain shot through her body, angling her eyes she was surprised to see a large bruise covering most of her shoulder and the upper part of her arm. Then it came back to her, it had occurred just three days earlier when Anvain had made a comment about one of her capturer’s nasty smell, he simply turned to look at her with beady eyes and smashed his club into her shoulder then resumed preparing a fire for the night. Never uttering a word to the stunned elf.
Being heavily chained she did not get a chance to examine the amount of damage the strike had caused. Moving her arm in the water Anvain was relieved to discover she still had full movement except for raising it above her head, which was unlikely to be a problem since Anvain used her right arm mainly during fights. Besides Anvain was afraid to ask Sylvani to heal such a minor wound and there was the danger of Sylvani discovering her “unique” magic. That had been Anvain’s mother’s word for it, but her magic really only did one thing well, repelling healer’s magic. Whenever Anvain became injured in the forest only her mother could heal her for she was the only one to know her daughter’s secret and it was bad enough that all the elves knew Anvain was incapable of healing her own injuries, all other elves born in the camp were given the ability to at least heal minor cuts and bruises.
Curling her lip at the color of the bath water, Anvain continued scrubbing herself. Upon reaching her back she discovered it was quite impossible to complete the task, so she held the bar of soap out to Sylvani and a blush came to her cheeks. “Would you please wash my back? It seems during the journey here some of my muscles have tightened.” Before Anvain could help herself she also blurted out. “Who is this King everyone speaks of and why does he have the scorn of many people?”
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Sean seemed to comprehend well enough of the situation and made his choice: the “angry” elven woman whom accepted. Dara thought it good controversy had not yet come up, the last thing they needed was an argument over who went with whom, because they ether didn’t like them or wanted someone else etc. The young woman Bliss seemed to concur with his plan and even suggested a type of modification to it. “It’ll be better implemented after we’re fully healed, but I’ll keep that in mind,” he commented. As for her little joke her talkative attitude Dara gave a small smile, after all such a thing was the least of his worries.
Bliss also made a comment of them getting to know each other better, to which Dara answered, “Well besides my obvious heritage there really isn’t that much interesting about me, my views aren’t too dissimilar from anyone else in this room.” He was of course downplaying those facts, he indeed had his own past that would interest some, but he saw no point in bringing up those memories. Memories of that night…with a fire blazing around him…a cry from his father… a moment of complete despair before he sold himself in order to regain what they had lost. The draconic man pushed those thoughts away; they were useless at the moment.
He focused on his left arm, sending signals down it commanding his fingers to move. The muscles and nerves were intact and functional, the ointment that healer gave him coupled with his quasi-healing factor seamed performing exceedingly well, by morning it would be good enough to do the demanded strenuous tasks, albeit with some soreness throughout.
Dara then heard the footfall of hooves from behind him, his vision adjusted expecting see a horse, though he couldn’t imagine why one was being brought into their quarters, but instead his vision was greeted by perhaps the most exotic thing he had seen all day. A man, whom Dara could only assume was one of the men that profited from their exploits (or lack there of), brought in a centaur. It…he was more or less thrown right into their laps, being called Cutlass-Prince, though with the way the man pronounced it-it sounded like some sort of insult. He seemed to be regarded as beast rather than a man, something the centaur disproved by speaking fluently in the common language and promptly breaking the wealthy man’s leg with a single hoof strike, doing so with a certain amount of satisfaction Dara noticed.
When it was over with the draconic man only had questions. What was a centaur doing here? Was he meant to be part of their team now? How many more people were going to be apart of this before the end? Before this day Dara had never seen one of Cutlass’s kind, only heard about though word of mouth about various farms and racing circuits. If this indeed was meant to be an addition to their team, then it would either prove useful, or complicate things further. After pinching the bridge of his nose Dara said in a somewhat irritable tone, “Okay, guess we have to do the show and tell thing again. You can call me Dara, I can good with a sword and axes and I can breathe fire…sometimes. Everybody give him your names, skills, and get it over with, I don’t want any surprises or complaints tomorrow.” At this point that day seemed to be dragging on, Dara thought it was best to get acquainted with their new team member quickly so they could rest for the remainder of the night, they’d need their strength.
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Bliss smiled at Dara as he continued their meek conversation of tactics, the silence driving her mad. The others that were silent seemed to be lost in thought, may it be thoughts of memories or the fight that they had today, Bliss had no idea. She wasn’t very good at reading people but she was good enough to know that the air they sat in was one of sadness and slight anger. They felt anger at the king who made them do this, anger at the others who supported it and anger at whichever god they believed in for putting them in the horrible situation. She didn’t guess the thoughts that she was thinking, she too had felt the emotions they were feeling and they still continued to pop into her mind, even after her five years of being a gladiator. It never really become easier, you just had to somewhat come to terms with what you were put with and just deal with it.
Bliss’ thoughts were torn from her head when she heard faint horse hooves that seemed to reverberate around the night’s air. She looked behind her and was startled to see, of all thing, a Centaur standing practically at the foot of her bed. His eyes seemed to be devoid of any emotion although Bliss wasn’t certain if she saw some sadness lingering in them. She felt sad him, knowing of the creatures. Her father had prepped her for what she would mostly encounter in the arena, wanting her to be one of the best fighters. He had told her that Centaurs were evil creatures, not deserving of any titles really. At the time Bliss had believed him but by now, she knew it wasn’t really true. The stereotypes her father had told her never really held true, the people that she had fought with, or against, in the past were quite diverse and she had learnt by now to respect all races.
Although, as her eyes wandered, she saw the companion he had come with. A slightly larger man with annoyance in his eyes, his mouth set in a firm line, perhaps one of distaste. She had, from seeing and knowing men like him, had slowly started to lose faith in the human race. They were the main portion of people who watched fights and it made her angry at her own race, always wishing that she wasn’t a human. He told the Centaurs name, Cutlass-Prince, and Bliss shot the Centaur a small smile, making sure it was clear that the man who brought him down here received none of that smile, he seemed more than friendly. Although Bliss usually always thought a person was friendly when she first met them and had caught her more than enough flack in her life.
She shrugged her thoughts off when she felt a small shiver go down her spine and the fine hair in back of her neck stand up on end. She saw the man staring at her and she shivered at his wandering eyes, noticing how they stopped to stare at a few different places. She clenched her fists up in small balls, perhaps a way to shield herself against his stare. She wasn’t daft to the look of hunger in his eyes and had been more than once the cure to those type of looks. She knew that he wouldn’t do anything, well, hoped he wouldn’t. Not in front of all the others and the man surely couldn’t be stupid enough to drag a fighter off on his own.
Once more the greedy looking man started to speak again, something about being careful with the Centaurs and Bliss had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, realizing that this man seemed to peeve her. She highly doubted that the Centaur would do anything and she watched with slight glee as he kicked the man, probably breaking his leg. She did, though, smile at his words. Bliss had no doubt the man had taken strange woman to his bed before for a nights entertainment, ignorant to their terrified cries. Although she didn’t fixate on that for long because Cutlass started to speak to her, taking the reins back that had been on her bed.
He threw the reins back to the man and he seemed to just stand there for a moment. With a flick of her head, she saw that most of the gladiators were also looking at the Centaur, not knowing what to say, leaving it to the new gladiator that they had just received. She opened her mouth, ready to try and lift the strangeness from the room but Cutlass-Prince beat her to it. She smiled at his words, comforted that her earlier suspicions had been right. “I don’t doubt it,” She answered him, giving him a small smile, resisting the urge to pat his shoulder to reassure him because she didn’t want to insult him.
She smiled at Dara as he continued on as if nothing happened, now demanding names and talents from each of them to introduce themselves to Cutlass and Bliss had the off thought, wondering if Dara had claimed himself the leader of the group. She wouldn’t mind at all if he did, he was a good man and she had no problem following orders, especially when it was from someone she liked.
“My name’s Bliss, I’m pretty good with daggers or a simple sword when you give me one . . . these chains,” She gestured her head to the chains on the floor of her bed. “Well, I’m not too good with them.” She shrugged and continued on. “It’s what we’ve got though, so oh well. Did you manage to get some? Or are you going to just get them tomorrow in the arena, well, that is if we don’t get a weapon. Regardless, nice to meet you Cutlass,” She smiled at him, hoping to lift his spirits. He was going to be a teammate from now on, might as well make sure he was happy.
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“He shouldn’t bite you,” she said to the group when the Brute sat with her. “He’s only alerting me to my own negligence,” she said, watching as he trotted back out. “Not that I have forgotten, but he seems to think that I have,” she said. She knew that she had to get outside. While it was still relatively early in the evening, most people slept at that time. Too tired to stay up later. She had things to do, and it kept her busy well into the night.
Sylvani quieted and listened to Pandora and Kelyren speak together. With the absence of two healers, the other female fae and Fang… being taken away by the Guards and being brought who knew where, she figured that there were three of them. It was enough to heal the gladiators, given that most teams had one or two healers, this new team had three. Granted, the gladiators were a strong force, and getting them to trust one another would be hard. She wished that she could interject and explain to Kelyren that trusting one’s team was the best thing to do, but she figured it wouldn’t work. She sighed and shook her head. She felt the familiar pain building at her left shoulder, the same pain that came every night when she grew too tired. By mistake, she patted Pandora’s shoulder. She was used to some sort of company.
“There is only one other thing I can offer to you two,” she said finally. She exhaled slowly, willing the pain away. “You two can sleep in separate quarters. Because we’ve lost two of our healers, we still have the rooms. I don’t find it as safe, sleeping alone, but Kelyren…you seem uncomfortable with Pandora and me. If you’re going to have the best form for the gladiators, it’d be best if you were comfortable.”
She left that dangling for the other two to take before she went to Anvain and knelt beside her. She didn’t fluster or grow embarrassed at the other’s nakedness; she picked up the bar of soap, lathered the cloth and set to washing the other’s back. She kept quiet, her mind growing distant as she cared for the gladiator. In their dark world of death and bloodshed, at the end of the day what Sylvani enjoyed most was taking care of another.
A slight smile crossed her face as she used her thumbs to dig into the tender muscle by Anvain’s shoulders, trying to loosen them and relax her. “The King…The King is…” her voice turned sarcastic. “The King is a wonderful man that has our best interests at heart and only wants us to know that he punishes us like a father would punish his children. He doesn’t want to, but he must for our own good…” Her hands rested on Anvain’s shoulders as she thought about what she should say. The woman could be a spy. The King could be trying to see if she was loyal to him. Well… the King knew that she didn’t like him. “That is what he wants us to think. Or he tells us. The King, in reality is a cruel man that enjoys pitting people against one another. He’ll do anything to make sure that we are broken in spirit. The only way that we can fight against him right now, is to survive. That is where I come in, for you. You get injured and I heal you to the best of my ability. If I keep you alive, I anger him and I remind him that just because he thrives off of death…not everyone has to.” She stopped, “listen to me, rambling on when you should be sleeping,” she said quietly. She stood up and grabbed a towel, opening it for the female elf. “You can sleep here tonight, if you want. I have things to do in the forest tonight,” she said. Meaning she wouldn’t be in her room. “After this, you’ll be staying with the other gladiators.”
She moved back out with the other healers and set to packing bread, cheese, water, a blanket and a small brightly colored book into a pack. “Now, I’ll be gone for the night. Pandora, if you wouldn’t mind staying to watch over Anvain. I have things to do, people to see and while I normally wouldn’t leave my gladiator, I’m afraid that there is a pressing matter I must tend to,” she said. The very slight, tender smile remained on her face. “I doubt any of you three wish to go into the forest now anyway. Not with me. I have too many things to gather.”
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The centaur wanted little to do with the group arrayed with him. He knew that he wasn’t welcome, and wouldn’t be welcome. It went with the territory of being what he was. Still, at least two in the group attempted to treat him civilly, the female moreso than the male. “You shouldn’t be getting another teammate,” he said to Dara, understanding his concern that the group would get too big. “Look around, how many people do you have left? Not many. Not enough to fight in the ring.”
He shifted, lifting one hoof and putting it back down. It was hard for him to stand on that sort of ground. It would make him sore in the morning, but it would be worse if he tried to lay down and have the weight on his legs. His attention focused on the man, Dara, again. Listening to the way that he listed what he was good at, and his name. “I don’t need to know about you. Other than the name that I can yell out when I need you to get out of my way, or to swear at you if you decide to try and mount me while we are fighting. I am not a horse; I do not tolerate a rider. I don’t care what sort of idea that you have that involves me. I do not take a rider,” he had to emphasize that heavily. “Not anymore,” he huffed. Insulted with the very idea of having to tolerate someone sitting on him.
“I know that I am throwing a wrench into your plans. Whatever they were. A well-oiled team does not do well with a new cog thrown into the mechanics of it. I am that new cog, and I apologize. If you would rather rest and conserve your vocal cords for the screaming of the ring, that is understandable,” he said to Dara. “I am sorry that you are…less than pleased with my arrival. I will do my best to stay out of your way. It is likely that you will only see me during training and during fighting as you wouldn’t need to talk with me beyond that.”
He shied slightly as a shadow danced too close to his hooves. He sidestepped quickly before he realized that it was just a shadow. He looked towards Bliss, the woman whom the overseer had made his advances to, seemed quite capable of speaking to him as if he had intelligence beyond parroting information back to her, and managed a rueful grin as he tried to explain. “I am best with a bow and arrows,” he said honestly. “Decent with a sword, but it is not my preferred weapon. It is not natural for me to carry something made by man, and I don’t like close ranged combat. For obvious reasons,” he explained. A bow crafted by him was large, the string taunt and hard to pull. Other bows he was given, made by man, tended to break in his hands as he held them too tightly. The time and effort taken to make them were wasted, but he was learning to not break the weapon that he was given. He looked at the chains at the foot of her bed and shrugged. “I am not allowed property. Whatever I am given, I have to return at the end. If I try to keep something… punishment follows. I am not allowed property for I am property,” he said. It was a speech that was carefully memorized and he sounded bored, not angry, when he said it.
He tried to smile for her, a difficult feat for the creature that had little in stake for the ring. Still, he liked to keep people happy. Happy people were less likely to lash out in anger.
“You, Centaur, outside!” a man yelled and Cutlass turned his head to regard the man. He turned back to Bliss and Dara, bowing low to them, “pardon me. It would seem that the right to be housed with gladiators is not one that will be afforded to me. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me. It was a rare pleasure,” he said before he backed away carefully. He walked back to the door and left the stables. If any cared to look from the window, they’d see that he would be tethered outside in the grass like the horses were. A rope tied around his back leg, secured to a simple stake that could be pulled out if he tried. Yet, he was domesticated. In mind, body and spirit. He wouldn’t try to run. He’d only be returned.
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Pandora waited patiently for Kelyren's answer, and did not let on her disappointment at the cool answer he provided. She preferred companionship and being amicable with those she would be spending time with, but was enough used to the loneliness that came with her forced job. She couldn't blame the man for his guardedness around her, and simply gave him a smile in understanding, deciding to keep more to herself. He reminded her a moment of her son and his own guarded personality and realized that when he was ready, he would make the first step. The last thing she wanted to do was make him uncomfortable and put any sort of strain between them. They were on the same team and had to work together on and off the field to better their skills to better aide their gladiators.
The woman caught him looking at her ring, and she immediately placed her free hand over it, hiding it from view. She didn't want to think he might try and steal it from her to pawn off to the nearest guard for a favor, but she didn't know enough about him to think otherwise. Her wedding band, still remaining untarnished after years upon years of wear, was very precious to her and she had been forced to jump through hoops to even be able to keep it on her person. Again, she silently thanked her skill in herbalism and the books she had read, the experiments she had used to perfect both healing art and a more harmful art.
Untying the knot from her bandanna sent curls spiraling down over her shoulders, and she ran her fingers through the tendrils lightly, folding the raggedy bandanna with care and keeping it safe. For her, this scrap of cloth was as precious as the silver that banded her finger or the locket hidden beneath her shirt. When Kelyren's worry was expressed from any threat, she nodded to him seriously.”Yes, of course there is. We are the only line of defense that the gladiators have. If a guard, lord, or even citizen decide that they wish to help their odds in their bets, we are the easiest targets. I have seen healers poisoned, shot at with arrows, seduced, bribed, and stopped from doing their jobs by various other means. When it is said that all a healer has is their team and gladiators, it is correct.” She spoke kindly, explaining the danger to him so that he may understand what it was they were put up against often enough. She herself had been poisoned by a family she had thought were only trying to be kind to her. Luckily enough, she had an antidote for such a thing. Of course, it was worse treating one's self and reading through books to find out what it was that had done the poisoning.
Kelyren's neutrality did not fool the older woman's eyes for a moment and she understood how her presence could make him uncomfortable. She was about to suggest that perhaps they not share a room, thinking of an excuse on her part so as not to wound his pride when Sylvani stepped in. She felt the touch on her shoulder and smiled a bit, hoping that they would each be able to hold some sort of amicability for one another. “That does not sound like a bad idea.” She turned back to Kelyren and nodded to him. “I am still more than willing to help teach you and work with you on herbalism. And you can retire to your own space when you are ready,” she said sincerely, smiling warmly. She had a nature of motherhood about her and only wanted the best for those around her.
The long-time healer noticed Sylvani packing food and a blanket, curious that she would be going out at this time of night. She was slightly worried for the young woman, despite her mind telling her that the Audabe knew what she was doing, had been doing so for a length of time herself. She nodded at the request and stood. “Of course, I shall. Please, be careful. May the goddess watch over you and keep you from harm this night,” she prayed quietly, clenching her hands together for a moment before burying her worry and smiling at Sylvani. “I hope you find all that you are looking for. Perhaps, as well, if you come across any Rowan flowers on your journey, you could bring back some? They have deep purple petals and their leaves fork into V-shapes midway down.” She bowed to the other woman slightly and made her way over to the injured elf, smiling at her. “If there is anything you need at all this evening, please ask.” She noticed the dark discoloration of her shoulder and furrowed her brow in worry, examining it closer and thinking of what she had on her now that may assist her.
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Kelyren quickly looked away the moment Pandora hid her ring from his view. He flinched, knowing fully that she had caught him staring, and hoped that she did not bring it up. Thankfully, it was not brought up, and he made a mental note to keep his eyes away from people's belongings. Or at least, avoid getting caught examining them.
Sylvani's offer sounded good. Kelyren nodded in response, relieved that he might not have to share a room after all. Perhaps Sylvani was not as cold-hearted and cruel as he first thought she was. He was now somewhat aware of the dangers in sleeping alone, but he had a vague idea of some methods he could use to chase off intruders who might creep into his room while he slept. They would not injure anyone, but the ideas he had in mind would either wake him up, or scare any intruders away from him. The only obstacle was sneaking the needed supplies into his room without getting caught.
Then again, he thought to himself, a bucket of water and some breakable dinnerware is all I should need. They probably won't be too hard to get.
"I wouldn't mind that," he said to Pandora. "And I think I do need a teacher for some things, if it isn't too much trouble for you."
He watched skeptically as Sylvani came back into the room they were in and started packing. She looked like she was headed someplace for more than a few hours, judging from the food. The book intrigued him, and he wanted to ask what it was about, but he decided to remain silent and prevent his curiosity from getting him into any more trouble. It looked like he would be working with these women for some time, and he did not want to anger them. Kelyren still couldn't help but wonder what the book was about, though. What did the mysterious "Ice-*****" like to read?
"Where will you be going?" he blurted out, focusing his curiosity upon something else. "I didn't know we could be out and about during nighttime. The guards didn't let me out the last time I tried to go for an evening walk. Do you have to sneak outside or something?"
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Bliss listened to Cutlass being worried about being a wrench in their plans, something she wanted to tell him was stupid to worry about. The more the better was always something she thought of, it would give them a better chance in the ring, the more people that they would have, well, the higher chances of survival, well, that was what she thought at least. She felt her eyes dancing between both Cutlass and Dara, wondering how both of them had ended up in the hell hole that they now called their current home. She could see well hidden sadness in both of their eyes, something that made her sad to see. No one really deserved to be unhappy, especially when it was from something that they couldn’t change. She wished she would be able to just get the sadness out of them, out of all of them. She hated seeing other people happy, it just felt weird to her.
She then listened to what he was good at and tried to file the information away in her head, knowing that it would be useful but not really caring. She had already forgotten most of their weapons of choice, something that made her slightly guilty. But, as stupid as she thought of herself for even thinking the thought, her mind wasn’t with fighting. For now she was just happy with meeting new people, she hated having to fight for the right of her life and slightly hated her father for putting her in the situation. Although she had long ago forgiven him, anger still arose every so often when she felt particularly despaired. And lately she had been way to caught up in her fighting and killing was starting to really bother her.
She felt a small pang of sorrow when she heard him mention that he was only property, something that he himself had accepted. It seemed that it was worse, yes, they were too treated like property but it appeared that he couldn’t even keep weapons . . . . She felt anger at the human race once more, wondering why most of them were so ignorant.
She grinned as she saw him smiled although he was soon out of the room and she was left with Dara once more, the others asleep. She turned to him, her eyes landing on the scales on his arm once more, she found him fascinating. Not to mention that so far he seemed to be fine with the fact that she talked way too much, that always proved to make her quite a happy person. He seemed friendly, like all of them there, although a few of them seemed to be a bit reserved, so she automatically liked him.
“So, how long have you been doing . . . this for? I mean . . . this is my fifth year, soon sixth actually. Well from what I hear, I don’t really follow the dates. I don’t know how I’ve managed to survive for so long, it’s actually a borderline miracle. I guess I’m just incredibly lucky . . . well that and well trained. My father was the one who trained me and gave me up to become a gladiator, so I guess my fighting isn’t that bad. But still, I guess others underestimating me was a big help,” She told him, realizing that she had been rambling. She blushed a bit but gave him a smile, hoping that he wouldn’t take her rambling as a desperate attempt to make friends. She hadn’t even realized that she had been rambling. “Sorry for talking . . . I didn’t even realize.” She shrugged, hoping that he wouldn’t feel pressured to tell her his past.
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Cutlass was…civil, to say the least, and gave all the information they needed to hear. Dara was taken aback a little when he emphasized his “distaste” of having a rider; in truth the thought had never crossed his mind to do so. The idea of treating something with such obvious intellect capacity no better than even a pet was simply redundant and coarse to him, he’d no sooner ride the fabled dragon of the arena, only a fool would try it. He was pleased to hear his skill with a bow, having a long ranged fighter would be incredibly useful and perhaps invaluable in the long run.
The draconic man frowned as the “property” as he referred to himself was called outside to lie with the dogs. As he left Dara said as a consolation, though he did not know how much an effect it would have or at all, “We’re all property.” Cutlass however didn’t appear to hear him, and Dara decided not to attempt calling out to him again.
It was true, gladiators by definition were slaves; expendable, replaceable, and cheap. In the grand scheme of things they weren’t so different, other than the fact that Cutlass was born into captivity. Then a thought occurred to him; while people indeed enslaved members of their own race into this nightmarish sport, they at least could win their freedom and attain the rights all other citizens of their race had in this kingdom. But Centaurs had no rights, therefore Cutlass had no chance of earning the opportunities Dara or the others would, he was doomed to remain property for the rest of his natural life or be disposed of when he was no longer an able body. The draconic man had seen into his eyes, if any spark of rebellion existed within Cutlass it was extremely dim to the point it would fizzle out, a broken soul.
For a small moment, vengeful thoughts emerged where he had sought to suppress unless they were useful. Thoughts of the king, whom he had mental picture as a small, fat, and pathetic specimen of a man hiding behind a tradition that demanded obedience from all, hiding behind a privilege that should have been denied at birth as he denied theirs. Oh, how Dara wished for so many sleepless nights that he could simply walk into his bed chambers and spit flaming vengeance upon him, to watch him burn alive, to see his eyes so that he would know that it was a mere slave who performed the deed and not some prestigious general or enemy of his nation. To have the fruits of his labor be counted, and found wanting as the flames would continue to consume him for all eternity in Hell…
His thoughts began to manifest on the surface, as his face grew into a subtle grimace and barred teeth. He immediately realized this however and suppressed those thoughts, regaining a neutral face. If he had continued with those thoughts than Bliss would have interrupted him, asking about how long he had been in this situation, then going on about herself and how she ended up here. Apologizing for her ramblings, it made Dara chuckle lightly, and for the first time that day the stress subsided. “Well I don’t think I’ve been here longer than you have, four to five years maybe? I don’t bother keeping count anymore. Like you my father trained me, I’ve survived by those skills as well as some of my more...unique talents from time to time. Although My father couldn’t prepare me for everything…” the last statement was said to himself and just barely audible.
Regaining his composure he states, “In any case we better get our sleep while we can.” He settled his body down, essentially laying his legs flat on the ground while his upper half contented itself on the wall. As his golden eyes dimmed he finished in a whisper, “Tomorrow’s going to be a long ass day.”
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Anvain gritted her teeth as Sylvani dug her fingers into the elf’s doubly sore shoulder muscles. Anvain was surprised that the healer showed so much hate for the King. Could he really be that terrible? Either way Anvain would not be a prisoner much long, she was determined to escape, but not tonight. Tonight she would rest. It was such a great relief to be clean, wrapped in a soft towel she almost felt safe and happy. Anvain uttered a small gasp, staying with the other gladiators? She was already far from her home and now she would have to sleep surrounded by strangers. Who knows what they are capable of doing.
Before Anvain could protest, Sylvani left the room and spoke to the other healers. It was a small comfort to be allowed to stay with the healers for the night. Anvain found it was terribly tempting to fall asleep with just a towel covering herself. But life in the forest had taught her to always be prepared, so somewhat reluctantly Anvain put her clothes back on and tucked her sword safely back down her shirt. Anvain positioned herself upon the bed to have a clear view of the doorway to prevent a possible unwanted visitor. Her last thought before drifting into an uneasy sleep was I forgot to drain my magic.
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Sylvani couldn’t stop the smile as she kept packing her bag. She knew that it must look strange to see her putting things into a sack and preparing to go outside. “Believe it or not, we’re more like servants than we are like slaves. As long as we don’t betray the trust of the guards, we can go nearly anywhere. I made it clear years ago that I need to go into the forest for my herbs and so they don’t question me. I’ll take you to the market soon so I can prove my point,” she promised, throwing the bag over her shoulder. She shrugged as she walked to the door. “I have a young man to see about his best-friend. He needs me to meet him,” she said over her shoulder. She paused, turned back to look at the healers, watching them seriously. “I’ve grown up here,” she said finally. Not in these barracks but right outside the arena in the small house with the red door. I grew up with the sounds of men dying and crowds cheering. I know the guards, the trainers, the healers. I know how to get what I need and I promise, I’m a *****, but I won’t steer you wrong.” She looked to Pandora, “Please watch Anvain. The poor thing looks like she’ll fall asleep in the tub. I will be back to get you all tomorrow morning,” she said but then left, closing the door behind her.
Her heart hammered in her chest as she tried to keep her voice steady. The arena always brought in mixed, and dangerous, feelings within her. “This is where you’ll be fighting,” she spoke to the Gladiators. “Jacob was meant to bring you here, but he couldn’t. So I am with you in your stead. Stay together, try to figure out how you will be fighting, get to know the Healers. If you want a particular healer to work with you, tell them know,” her eyes flickered to Anvain. “Anvain, I will be your healer as I’ve already overseen part of your healing process,” she said. “Dara, Pandora has seen to you… and I think she would be best matched with you. Bliss, Cutlass, Leilatha, Sean… please use this time to pick your healers,” she asked as best she could. She saw that Cutlass remained with the gladiators, but didn’t move towards a healer. He would be difficult for the Healers to work with, given his state of mind.
“Oh yes,” she pulled out canteens of water, tossing them to each person. “Remember to drink water. Keep yourselves hydrated. You don’t know how long you will be waiting or what you will be fighting,” she said before she inclined her head. “All right, go… do whatever you wish,” she said finally, letting the gladiators and healers be free to do as they wished. “Anvain,” she called one last time before she moved to the woman. “Your shoulder, how is it?” she asked. “Can you move it fully? I was hoping to check it this morning but in the rush, I admit, it eluded me,” she said before she dropped her voice to a whisper. “If you plan on using the sword that I saw last night, make sure it looks like you are taking it from the weapons available. I do not want to see you punished because you broke the rules,” she said but then backed up. She loved it when Gladiators broke the rules and didn’t get caught. She counted it is a silent rebellion against the King.
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It was rather abrupt, this morning. Even through the brief breakfast Dara had to give himself light slaps on the face to keep his eyes open. It was easier to do so once the sun hit his eyes, but it would be a lie to say the harsh light didn’t irritate him. The night brought a dreamless sleep, meaning that to Dara it felt as if time simply skipped ahead, bringing the next day all too quickly for him. Whatever complaint he might have however would have to be put aside for obvious reasons.
As they came upon the coliseum the draconic man had to concede his own opinions for a moment and marvel at its grandeur. He had never laid eyes on the most infamous place in the entire kingdom; it was a far cry from the smaller venues he had fought at these past few years. All the while on their trip hear Dara wondered where Jacob was. It was Sylvani who woke them and led them here; when they had arrived she explained briefly that Mr. Sunshine couldn’t make it, which made Dara ponder what could possibly keep a man like that away.
She also made it a point to get more acquainted with their healers, naming someone Pandora as his. At this he raised a brow and looked to the healers there. One was the half-elf, whom he recalled was named…Kaydrin? Keylin? He had not the attention at the time to embed the name into his brain, regardless it obviously wasn’t Pandora. He noticed the absence of a couple of healers, but rather than questioning thier whereabouts he focused on the only other one in their presence. The woman who tended to him the previous day, from that it was simple to deduce her identity.
Once again he checked the functionality of his arm, as he predicted it was still sore, but largely healed. When Sylvani said that she would be best matched with him he recalled the healer mentioning her knowing of the draconic healing factor, so with that in mind Dara surmised that Sylvani’s statement wasn’t an exaggeration. The Ice-Queen gave them water canteens, which Dara was thankful for, as he helped himself to a few sips he noted that the water wasn’t cool, but he was satisfied nonetheless.
Dara returned his attention to the healer self-assigned to him, and decided to head the advice given to him and get acquainted with her, “Well, I assume you caught my name being Dara from the Ice-Queen just as I caught yours so we can get that part out of the way,” he attempted a half-smile. “By the way, yesterday you seemed to know well enough of my draconic attributes. Out of curiosity just how much do you know about draconians?” He saw no harm in asking that of her, he wanted to see how good of a match for him as a healer she truly was. Not that it mattered that much to him, but it would be nice to know if there was any advantage to gain from this.
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"No" Jacob said to the man in the shadows. "I wont help you or that ******* you call a master." The man raised an eyebrow at Jacob almost as if warning him that he was crossing a line he shouldn't. "My master is a very generous man, and he can make it to where you don't have to work with those disgusting creatures you call gladiators any more. You could live a life of luxury with all the women, wine, and any other comfort you could imagine right at your finger tips." The man said stepping out of the shadowy ally. He was a tall and painfully thin man with hawkish features. He was dressed in luxurious clothing and looked as if he would probably burn every scrap of it when he got back home because of the filth that it had touched being down in the slums. Jacob glared at the man as he spoke waiting patiently for him to finish. "I know who your master is and how wealthy he is, trust me I do. I also know how hard it is for people of his status to accept rejection because they are used to getting everything they want, so let me make this quick and to the point." Jacob cleared his throat and smiled at the man "Go back and tell your master to shove his offer up his silk lined ass and never bother me again." The mans distasteful grimace turned into a full blow look of disgust. "I told the master that dealing with barbarians like you was a waste of time but he never listens when he has his mind set." Jacob turned away from the man and started walking in the opposite direction he had to get to the arena. "Don't worry!" the pompous man called "Since you wont help us we will just find our own way to achieve our goals." That made the trainer stop in mid step and turn around. He walked up to the man who was smiling victoriously and grabbed his lapel hoisting him up into the air giving the man a hard shake. "If you touch ANY of my gladiators or healers then you and your master wont live to reap the rewards of your treachery" Jacob emphasized his point by tossing the man five feet down the alley into a pile of garbage. Once again he turned around and stomped out of the alley way.
ld
Jacob arrived at the arena a few hours later. the team should not have arrived more than a few minuets before him if Sylvani kept to the schedule. Jacob walked into the gladiators waiting area. It wasn't much more than a small walled in area with a few benches in it. There they were, looked like Sylvani did a good job. Jacob walked up to the gladiators rolling his neck. "Ok **** ant, I was held up in a ... business meeting so as you of course noticed I wasn't able to take you to the arena and fill you in. So I will do so now; The first thing you need to know is the fight order The system workes like this, the gladiators that are battling are of course in the arena fighting. The gladiators that would fight next were are in the cage right outing side of the arena floor, and finally the team that will fight after them are kept here in waiting area. So when the team occupying the cage move onto the battle floor you will head right through that door there, he said pointing at a large stone slab of a door, whenever it opens and wait in the cage. The cage is just what it sounds like, a cage. To the left and right of it are other creatures being held to be sent into battle, my advice to you is don't talk to them." Jacob mumbled the next part under his breath "more trouble than its worth". Going back to his normal tone of voice "Also before you enter the cage there will be a few nice gentle man that bring in racks of weapons that you can choose from... that is unless your scheduled fight does allow you the use of weapons. If not then that is why I gave you those chains, They are not considered weapons by the king so use them to prove him wrong. That is all I can think of for now, So do whatever Sylvani told you to and wait for the weapons to come." Jacob paused in his rant to notice that there was a new addition to the team. "Oh what the hell!" He shouted "We have a damn centaur now, when did we get him... you know what never mind,I don't give a damn. You can fight right?" He said addressing the centaur.
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Pandora had been remained in Sylvani's room that night, watching over Anvain until the woman would return. Part of the night she spent concocting specific potions she thought her own gladiator would require, the other getting as restful a sleep as she could while remaining aware of any sounds of pain that may have come from the gladiator she occupied the room with. Upon Sylvani's arrival, the older woman was already up and preparing more generic salves, poultices, and bandages to fill her satchel with. It did not take the three healers and single gladiator to eat a quick meal of porridge, and once finished, were led to an area by which they waited with the other gladiators. The arena loomed overhead, but she refused to even glance at the building before it was necessary to do so. The structure of it was impressive, and it's grandeur could be seen from many miles in the distance. But the suffering that went into building the colossal center as well as the torment that it held did nothing but press a pit deep into her stomach. No, this structure would gain no awe and wonder from her. She double checked her supplies, interspaced with the different healing items was a half loaf of bread and a jar of water. Anything to keep herself, or those around her, going for the entirety of the difficult day she was sure they would face.
She heard her name mentioned and she looked over to Dara, casting a friendly smile toward him, nodding her head in understanding. Her gaze traveled to the other gladiators around them. Who would step forward first to request a healer? She thought of how it must look, how demur the healing group must have looked with only the three of them. Still, she kept her posture straight and did not lower her eyes. She would take any who wished to utilize her talents, even the stubborn ones who may not yet wish to request a healer. They would have to learn to work and trust one another above any outside of their group, and if it did happen too slowly, then that usually meant the team did not last long and she was put to a new team after watching her comrades fall in battle.
As Dara approached her, Pandora gave the man her full attention. “I am quite familiar with those in descent from the grand dragons as well as those dragons themselves,” she assured him, moving to his side. “How is your arm? I would like to re-examine it before you enter into the arena. If there is any strain or pressure, I can alleviate it for a time, help to keep your mind on the task at hand,” she informed him before stopping to answer his question.
“I have healed and am quite familiar with both dragons and their half-blooded offspring. Many years did I work with them each, finding what herbs assisted where others did not, the alternate effects they would have on humans versus dragons, and what poisons dragons were more susceptible to. Depending on the generation of offspring and how much blood is of the draconian descent does affect my decisions in what must be done in terms of healing,” she answered honestly. She felt no need to discuss her personal interaction with such people, knowing it would not be wise to have such a conversation overheard. “Now, if you would allow me to ask a question of you. Exactly how much draconian blood runs through your veins, and what type of dragon do you descend from?” she asked, both questions pertinent in her healing. Jacob had arrived in the next moment and addressed the gladiators, explaining the system of the battling they would be doing. She knew well the sequence of events, finding the cage to be a very trying experience itself, and simply hoped that the people surrounding her would be able to keep their wits about them.
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Dara was nearly astounded by the medical expertise that this woman knew. It seemed like she would have to have spent a great deal of her years with draconians in order to gain the amount knowledge she claimed to have. He did not doubt her, though there was sense she withheld some bit of information, if so than Dara didn’t deem it worth knowing and wouldn’t press on how she acquired her practice. Before he could respond to her Jacob seemed to appear out of nowhere in his usual sun-shiny demeanor, and though Dara could only roll his eyes when he announced himself he paid attention to his statements about the fighting routine. They would now be aware roughly how much time they would have before their own struggles began.
When Jacob turned his attention to their new teammate Dara saw this as his chance to respond to his healer. “My grandmother was a dragonborn, I think I heard once she was from the Vikadi clan or some ****, I dunno I didn’t keep track of that far into my heritage. In any case that makes me only a fourth of their kind, I’m not as durable as my ancestors. Guess that’s why I’m still sore around this area,” The draconic man took his right hand and place the palm under his armpit, he then squeezed gently where the tendons met the muscle bringing a slight wince to his face.
He had deliberately omitted anything concerning his own parents; all of his knowledge on them just brought unwanted memories. Though to be fair, it was only his father he had memories of.
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Servants, rather than slaves. Kelyren felt his spirits lift. He didn't like being a servant, but he guessed that it was better than being a slave. It was probably the gladiators who were slaves. He frowned, wondering what might have happened to him if his gift for healing hadn't been discovered...
"Well, have fun," he said cheerfully to Sylvani as she left. "I'll try not to burn anything down while you're gone."
He chose a room nearby and tried to sleep, but he couldn't. He tossed and turned for a few hours, finding himself drawn to the empty bed opposite him. It felt like he was waiting for someone to return, even though he knew fully that he was not sharing a room with anyone else. It was an eerie feeling, one that was disturbing enough to keep him awake. Eventually he climbed out of bed and paced between the bedroom and the common room, his gaze flickering towards the door every now and then.
Soon enough, it was dawn and he had not slept at all. Kelyren was slumped on a chair, eyes half-open, staring blankly at the door when he heard the first sounds of activity in the hallways outside. Morning already... with a groan, he lurched to his feet, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
He was quiet and kept to himself during breakfast and the walk to the arena, though something did bring him out of his sleepiness-induced stupor... there was a centaur there. Kelyren rubbed his eyes again and stared at Cutlass incredulously, wondering if he was dreaming. He closed his eyes and counted to three, maybe he was sleeping and the centaur was just a figment of his imagination. But when he opened his eyes, the centaur was still there.
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Anvain woke several times that night plagued by nightmares of her imprisonment in the wagon, no sunlight and stale air. She could still feel the walls pushing down upon her. Anvain was glad to have the other healer’s presence; Pandora would smile kindly at the young elf when she woke terror stricken. Before the healer could inquire if she was alright, Anvain told her it was just the new setting and she would adjust in a few days. Clutching the sword tighter to her chest Anvain wished that was the truth. She did not want to lose her mind.
The morning came all too early; Anvain was barely able to remain upright during breakfast. Seeing the other fighters Anvain perked up a bit, if only to seem strong and a capable fighter, reaching the arena Sylvani began to assign healers to the rest of the gladiators. Anvain found herself staring at the half-horse man, never had she seen such a unique creature, as she continued to observe the fighters she noticed Dara seemed to have scales upon his arms. It was so much to take in the arena roof seemed to touch the clouds. After handing everyone canteens of water Sylvani turned to Anvain asking about her shoulder, which put Anvain in a position of either making herself look wimpy to the others or making her left side vulnerable for an attack.
Anvain decided to lie, after all the fight was not life or death. She may gain a few more bruises for having a weak left side, but nothing serious. “Thank you for caring, but I heal rather quickly. It feels excellent today.” She replied smoothly, hoping the healer was too busy preparing the others to notice the lie. Anvain’s eyes widened, again she had forgotten about the sword. She had meant to hide it before leaving the barracks, but now it looked as if she would have to fight with it in her shirt. “I will be careful with it. It’s one of the few things I have from my home. It gives me hope to continue on.” Giving the healer a small smile, grateful Sylvani did not report her having a personal sword.
Suddenly Jacob appeared, addressing everyone in a condescending tone. He explained how the upcoming fight would unfold. The team would pick their weapons, then enter a cage to the side of the arena floor, wait till the previous occupants finish their fight and then Jacob’s team would enter. Anvain suppressed a giggle when the red-faced Jacob caught sight of the centaur, he was not happy about another new gladiator. Anvain wasn’t even sure how Cutlass could protect his rear, it seemed awfully far away. She surmised he might strike out with his back hooves if an enemy attacked from that direction.
When Anvain returned her attention to Sylvani, she knew the lie had been immediately caught by the sharp-minded healer. To avoid a confrontation, Anvain weaved in between the milling gladiators until she found herself next to a female elf of fierce complexion, flame red hair cut short. A flicker of compassion seemed to flash through Leilatha’s eyes for the younger elf, though they were but a few years apart it was apparent Leilatha had far more fighting experience than Anvain. Feeling slightly better in the company of another elf, Anvain prepared herself for the fight ahead, from the sound there seemed to be a great crowd filling the arena seats.
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Cutlass was lead through with the rest of the team and stood a little bit away from them. He listened as the Ice-Queen spoke to them, but most of her words seemed to be directed at those that could one day regain freedom, those that had worth to her. His worth was measured by how well he fought. He looked away from the group, towards where the pastures where. That was his freedom. Fenced in, green grass… freedom. He cleared his throat when Jacob came in before he shrugged. “I guess we’ll both find out today,” he said to the man before he turned he moved, finding it too difficult to literally turn his back on him but the meaning was there. Kiss his horse ass.
He arched his brow when he saw that one of the healers looked at him in disbelief. He shifted and stretched his left front leg out, tucked the right underneath him and bowed in a way that only equines could. “Half-horse, half-man,” he said before he straightened and walked up to the man, staying out of arm’s reach out of habit. “I don’t bite,” he said, and to prove his point he flashed a grin that showed that all of his teeth were flat, no canines to speak of. “Horse,” he said with a nod.
The impatient centaur was eager to get into the cage. For life, or death, it didn’t matter but he was abound with nervous energy and for once: “I won’t be racing around a track to get off my steam,” he said finally. He was quite pleased with how it worked out. “Race around, tire some out, kill some, try not to be killed… things could be worse,” he said, his voice infused with false chipper. He saw that the two gladiator elves were already pairing up, saw that the one scaled man was talking with the pretty older healer, he didn’t see the young woman that had spoken to him the night before…
He felt a hand touch his side and he immediately shied to the left as he heard the crowd roar in approval from inside.
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Anvain had lied to her. There was something the wrong with her shoulder but before the healer could press her, she was weaving off through the crowd. She watched her with a steely gaze but she could do nothing. If she drew attention to it, than any fighter worth their salt would press that weakness and turn it to their advantage. She shook her head. Let her keep her sword. Let her keep anything that will keep her strong. “Anvain,” she called out, trying to pitch her quiet voice loud enough for the female to hear. “Next time,” she cautioned, “I expect honesty,” she said but then turned her back on the other. Pandora was speaking to Dara, that respite was out she realized.
She had laid her hand on the Centaur’s side without thinking about what she was doing. She felt him move and jerked away, afraid that he would kick. “Ah, I have never been good with horses,” she murred as she closed and opened her fist, trying to remember that the centaur was not one that was something that she could draw energy from. Animals normally permitted her such a thing, liminal creatures tended to distrust her, as they had every right to be.
Sylvani looked and saw Pandora speaking with Dara. She inclined her head slightly. That would be a good pairing as Pandora’s advanced knowledge of herbs would help with Dara after he was done fighting. She saw that her other healer was staring at Cutlass in disbelief and she slapped the mount’s flank, sending him towards the man. “Go make friends,” she ordered him coldly. “You’re part of my team, you go integrate yourself,” she ordered.
She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear as she breathed out. She clasped her hands in front of her stomach and closed her eyes. She forced herself to make the emotion disappear behind a wall of ice. She had long since gotten good at that. Her eyes opened and she blinked in the harsh light. Everyone seemed to be conversing. Anvain was being taken care of by the other elf, and that means I don’t have to hover like a mother hen. None of these gladiators are my children, she reminded herself.
The bluster on Jacob’s face didn’t escape her, and she moved towards the man, coming up on his right and cleared her throat so that she made sure that he knew that she was there. She wasn’t about to surprise any man, least of all a man that trained others in how to use a sword. “Jacob,” she spoke, her voice still quiet. “Are you all right?” she questioned, not trying to push any of the carefully set boundaries that they had long set between them. “You never miss bringing the gladiators down to a fight, especially not their first fight,” she breathed out. Her eyes drifting over her rag-tag group of healers and fighters. “They will do fine,” she affirmed with a determined nod of her head. “Nothing pisses the king off more than a team that doesn’t lose at least one member.” She patted his shoulder, “maybe this time we can royally **** him off and the gladiators will surprise us by staying alive,” she murred before her hand fell from his shoulder. She was awkward at comforting.
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Bliss stood in the arena, scrapping her fingernails against the padding of her opposite hand. She was feeling nervous today, which was slightly weird. She has slept rather . . . well, blissfully last night, something that had been a nice change to her skittish sleeping habits. She assumed it had to do something with being surrounded by others. It was oddly comforting to know that she was stuck for others for now, something she hoped would last for a while. And looking at the others . . . it probably would. She couldn’t imagine any of them getting hurt before her, in fact, looking at them, she realized that she was probably the most weak out of all of them. Everyone just seemed to look more capable then her, something that was okay with her. As long as they would fight as a huge team and looked out for each other’s backs they would manage to be just fine. And besides, she had a feeling that there was going to be a huge crowd today, well, the cheering people was also a huge hint. She felt slight disgust listening to their taunts, knowing that they were excited for one of them to die.
She peeked around and listened to the girl who had presented herself as the ice ***** yesterday and she felt her mind reel. Why was the girl always so stoic? Bliss was sure something had to have happened for her to be able to just seem to not care about everything. She wanted to feel bad for the girl but she had a strong feeling that she would just end up hating her pity instead. She added her to the list of people she wanted to figure out here. If Bliss was going to be here for a while, she thought it would be to her advantage to just to get to know people. She liked having friends, she had had a few over the course of her life. Yes, most of them did end up dead but they were always nice to have. Although a feeling in the pit of her stomach, something that she had learnt to know as instinct and to act upon it, which Bliss learnt aided her well in her fighting, told her that she would be with these people for a while. The thought made her smile, a good consistency was something she aimed for in her life. And if this proved to be it . . . well, she would take advantage of it.
She listened as she spoke, they needed to find themselves a healer and Bliss felt herself blush, she was no good at picking people. It always made her feel slightly weird to know that she would have to pick one person above the others, she disliked it. She just scanned the others, not able to really decide who she wanted. They all looked like perfectly adept healers and she would trust all of them with her healing. Although she did wonder how a lot of them ended up here, some maybe were under the low income they got if they were high enough and maybe some were just prisoners. Bliss had yet to really understand the system. It was still just a huge mystery to her, much like everything else that she had encountered so far. She didn’t even think it was worth thinking over.
“I’ll have whoever wants me, although they might have to heed warning, they’ll be patching me up a lot,” She grinned at her joke, taking the easy way out. She didn’t want to pick so she just left the suggestion out for someone to grab. If no one did, she assumed that if she were injured enough they would heal her. So that really didn’t phase her much. She assumed she was going to be just fine. So instead her attention got diverted to Jacob and she smiled at his chain comment. She wasn’t sure if it was just her hopeful thinking but she was more than positive that Jacob was trying to be friendly with them. She pushed away her earlier thoughts of the main and she immediately starting to like him. There was something about him that she hadn’t seen before but he seemed like a strong man that would stand up for what he believed in, something the world severely lacked.
She derailed the train of thoughts that suddenly seemed to be concocting in her mind, it was never good to think too much into things, it was the type of action that seemed to bring on rebellions. And that was never good on the opposing side, it always seemed like the bad guy was always winning, an incredibly depressing thought for her. She peeked down at her chains and shackled them to both her wrists, hoping she wouldn’t have to use them. She wanted to be able to use the weapons that Jacob had mentioned, it would probably make her one of the happiest people alive to just be able to hold a dagger again. It had been way too long.
Bliss cracked her knuckles, listening to the reassure pops of her joints. It seemed to soothe her from the fight she knew was about to happen. She wasn’t in the mood to murder today, not after being in such a great mood. She knew it was totally ruin her happiness for a bit and she didn’t like that concept. She almost caught herself about to pout and thought better of it, knowing that acting like such a child around the other gladiators was never an extremely good thing.
She felt her eyes glance to Dara and she smiled, feeling somewhat connected with him. Both of their fathers had trained them for this, although she didn’t know the reasons for his father she knew for hers it was out of spite. It made her relax knowing that he had the same problem and she wanted to know how he thought about his father, if Dara was angry with him or sad or whatever else. She was curious to know what she technically should be feeling but she had long ago come to terms with what he had done to her. There was nothing she really could have done about it.
She sighed and looked around, noticing Cutlass and saw that he himself held no chains. She frowned, remembering his statement and felt a small once of sorrow for him, she couldn’t imagine being treated worse than they already were but Cutlass apparently was. She smiled at him, hoping that he would catch her eyes. Bliss looked back around, suddenly just wanting to get the fight over with. It was putting her nerves on end and making the fine hair on the back of her neck stand. “So, when’s this fight gonna start? Or are we just waiting for the opponents to drop dead of old age?” She attempted the joke, trying to life her own nerves. It didn’t work though and she felt her bottom lip prod out an inch. She was pouting, of course. Nothing impressed tough gladiators more than a girl who pouted, nothing. And of course, the numerous people standing in the crowds waiting for bloodshed. She was positive the pout impressed them too.
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Jacob raised an eyebrow at the centaurs as he walked away. Oh we have a feisty one, this will be fun he thought sarcastically. He was to tired to really be pissed of right now and he had a hang over from last night to boot, but he had an image to keep up so he watched all the gladiators looking pissed off all the while. He always got drunk the night before the first fight, it was his own personal good luck ritual to help the gladiators survive. It sounded stupid but he was one of the best trainers in the kingdom so there had to be something to his methods. Sylvani walked up behind him asking if he was ok, and reassuring him about the gladiators . Jacob looked up at the sky for a second, thinking about what to tell her, squinting at the glare the sun gave off. He looked at her and grinned they "We can only hope right, and if we **** off the king well... that is always a bonus. What I live for you know, helping as many gladiators make it out alive as I can, or at least helping them live longer than the king would like. Its like a small victory whenever the gladiators make it out alive." he said this all keeping his voice low not wanting the gladiators to hear that he had a nice side. He would die with them thinking he was an ass hole if possible, the gladiators not liking him gave them all something in common which helped the team grow together. " As for me" he said continuing on with his voice at a normal level "I've got one hell of a hangover from last night. Gotta keep the old luck tradition going you know. I suppose you wouldn't have anything to help with it would you?" He lowered his voice one more time "As for me not taking the gladiators to the fight well, there was an urgent business meeting with a powerful man. I will give you all the details once the gladiators are fighting but for now just be careful of any strangers watching you too closely."
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Pandora listened as Dara spoke to her of his lineage. All the while, she was reaching into her stachel for a cream that she had made last night in case he had not fully healed. “Lift your arm,” she said, not a request but gently enough to try and not get any resistance from him. Scooping a healthy amount of the cream into her hand, she peeled back any clothing or bandaging that may have been obstructing the bare skin and rubbed the salve into the area he had pointed out, as well as the surrounding area. Her own hand cooling under the healing properties of her concotion. The tendons and muscles would grow cool as well for approximately five minutes before warming those same muscles and tendons. She placed another bandage over the area to keep the ointment from spreading over his arm.
“I never knew any of the Vikadi clan. Though I do have a vague idea of who they are. After the fight, when we have more time, I would like to know any specialties you may possess. Anything that you inherent from your ancestors. Being one fourth, they would be more sparce, but still pertainent,” she explained, wiping her hand on her skirt. “One of the traits would be your accelerated healing, to human standards. I will need a list, but after your fight. Right now, I need you to concentrate on your fight.” She pulled out a larger bottle and rag, keeping them out in her hand. “This is oil. It will make it difficult for you opponent to strike at you. I can apply it upon you when you enter the cage. Anything to give you an advantage in the ring.”
She had seen too many warriors cut down by man and beast alike that any advantage she could possibly see for her gladiator, she would give him. This would be her first time watching him fight in the ring, any of them, and she would not take her eyes from the carnage for a moment, intent on knowing his strengths and weaknesses so that she could properly protect him. She noticed Keylan's tired expression and pursed her lips, but said nothing. She would speak to him later on how sleep was quite necessary to the healer, for their jobs drained them more often than not, needing a sharp eye and quick movements to save their gladiators. Still, she noticed his awe at the centaur but made no move toward the beast. He did not step forward to claim a healer, and so he would be one of the last to be attended to.
At the call from a female warrior, Pandora turned her attention to her. She didn't immediately raise her voice to her, waiting to see if another will claim her. However, they would be starting soon, and it would be best to get the arrangements done later than now. "I shall take you in my charge, if no other calls out to you," she said with a smile and a nod. She did not know anything about the woman, but she did well under pressure and would be hard pressed to let a newly acquired gladiator die in her presence.
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Having gone to bed earlier than most of the others, he missed the fact that they had a new team member as well as Dara and Bliss' conversation, but on the bright side, he slept like a baby and was very well rested for the battle ahead. Living in a culture that values war and fighting has that perk of steeling your nerves the night before a battle. When he awoke he saw the others were already up and that there was a new face... though the face wasn't exactly what caught his attention. Sean made use of his normal subtly to ask "What that? man-horse or horse-man" but was explained that the creature was a centaur... though Sean didn't see how his names were wrong... He thought they described it quite well.
The woman that had healed him earlier led them to the coliseum, a large construction built only to house death and destruction. It seemed a great idea to Sean, as those were his main interests, and to find them all in one convenient location was the epitome of joy. He would have to bring this idea back to his people whenever he was freed from his chains... though he did wonder why he was called a barbarian when these soft people had such a construct in their city.
Jacob came not long after they arrived, though He said a bunch of things that didn't involve fighting, and so Sean tuned him out, instead looking about at the others, noticing that they seemed nervous about the fight.
"No worry! Sean kill everything!" He said triumphantly, slamming his fist into his chest as if to emphasize his words. Though he was quite confident that he could kill anything that was set before him in the arena, he'd already seen plenty of things in this place he'd never seen before, which he'd never had to kill before. Part of him hoped whatever was waiting for them in the arena was at least part beast... He doubted there wasn't anything stronger than a bear that the metal men could capture... so long as it wasn't a dragon, Sean was confident in his ability to kill it.
"When kill time start? Sean want kill now" Sean said, crossing his arms as he looked about, unsure why they were waiting when there were things to be killed in the arena.
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Dara complied to Pandora’s order, which little less than a suggestion. She applied a type of cream to him, giving his skin a cooling sensation that indeed relieved much of the soreness he was feeling, although he estimated it would be a while before it would feel anything like prior to yesterday’s event. For a small moment the draconic man let his eyes close, letting sensation take full effect as he relaxed. When Pandora had finished they snapped back into reality, almost as if there was no trace of a relaxed mind left.
Before he could thank her she asked for him to explain any other things he inherited from his ancestors after their fight (under the assumption he lived of course). After which she handed some sort of oil, claiming it would give him and advantage in battle. So far she had not done anything to suggest incompetence so he did not question it. “Thank you,” he started. And before he could continue Bliss made it known for any healer that she was available, to which Pandora kindly offered her services in case no other took her. At this Dara commented, “Well I certainly don’t mind sharing, and though I may be partial I’d say I have the best healer here,” he flashed a smile at his healing watcher, grateful for expertise and assistance. She seemed to be rather gracious considering she gave him something to give him and edge.
His expression became neutral again when he also said, “About the specialties though, besides briefly breathing fire and scales on my arms I can’t really think of anything else I’ve inherited, so that would have been a rather short conversation.” It was then that Sean, whom Dara had wondered when he would make a boisterous proclamation did so, apparently not understanding the system Jacob had gone through the trouble of explaining. Dara blamed this on the language barrier, and promptly told the barbarian in his native tongue the proceedings in which the battles would follow. He expected the man to make a resounding frown out of disappointment as soon as he finished explaining.
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Jacob raised an eyebrow at Sean proclamation but didn't say any thing. Suddenly the door to the waiting area flew open and four men carrying two racks of weapons came in and set the racks down. The doors promptly locking behind them after they entered to ensure the gladiators dont try to escape. On one rack was a collection of short swords all of a fairly bad condition. on the second rack was a collection of daggers and dirks. These were the weapons the gladiators could choose from to use. Not long after the racks were set down a great rumbling could be heard as the giant stone slab that served as the door for the cage slid open. It seems the time to fight was near.
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Waiting for a fight was the worst time for the Ice-Queen. She would rather have the gladiators in the fight so she would know that soon she could go in and heal them. That was all she wanted. She wanted them out of the ring with Kelyren and Pandora healing, and she walking around and making sure that her men, and women, were healed properly. Of course, none of it showed on her face as she regarded Pandora speaking to Dara, glad that they had some common ground. She saw Anvain with the other Elf. Kelyren staring at the centaur, and Bliss trying her best to calm her nerves as Cutlass stayed off to her right. It seemed like she and Pandora would be dividing the gladiators, with Kelyren helping where they needed him. She tried to think through the ones she could remember. She knew their faces, she just hoped that she hadn't forgotten a name.
Anvain. The elf that seemed to desire company as much as she kept her secrets closer to her chest than she kept her sword. Sylvani would oversee her healing.
Dara. With his draconian heritage, the extent of which she wasn’t sure that they had truly seen yet. Pandora had said that she’d be able to help him.
Cutlass. After the mistake of treating him like a horse, she doubted that he would let her get near him. She’d talk to Pandora about taking the Centaur on as well.
Bliss. As much as she wanted Pandora to take on the female who seemed to have the sort of personality that made everyone wish to talk to her… she knew that it wasn’t fair to pile everyone onto the woman. She would take Bliss.
Leilitha. The other female-elf, who seemed like all hope had fled from her eyes. If she could survive her first few fights, Sylvani hoped that she would become strong enough to handle the arena. It felt like both she and Pandora would have to work with her.
Sean… a small smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. “Soon,” she promised him before she gathered up the white fabric in her hands, raising it so that she wouldn’t step on the hem of her dress and walked over to Jacob. Sean seemed to be the one that was foolhardy enough to take on the world by himself. That meant that she, Pandora, and Kelyren would be working overtime to keep him alive.
She moved to Jacob’s right, her left was vulnerable and he was one of the few that knew the reason why. She laughed, a rare sound but often pulled from her when they spoke of displeasing the king. A dark pleasure blazed behind her silver eyes; it was the desire to thwart the King at every turn, come hell or high water. With blood spilled in the arena, and death becoming her way of life, the white-clad woman found pleasure in the masochistic satisfaction of angering the King. She dug through her bag, found the herbs that she would need, already crushed, and added them to the canteen that hung at her side. She handed it over to him. “It tastes horrible,” she said sweetly, “but none of my medication tastes good,” she said to him. Alrun had become addicted to the pain-reducing tea, Annihilita because the taste was naturally sweet and wild. While she still had the herb in her bag, she only used it to sped the death of a gladiator who was suffering.
“Strangers watching me closely?” she repeated. She didn’t look around. It would be suicide for someone to attack her now, not with the number of gladiators and guards. “I hope that you mean that they want to kill me,” she said pleasantly as she looked over the Gladiators. “I’d hate to think that they still have it in their minds that I am someone worth bedding,” she murred. Jacob moved away from her and started to do his job, she knew that he would return and their conversation would continue. It was hard for the two of them to share information without people thinking that they were more dangerous together than they would be if they were separated. She frowned as she walked back to the healers, lightly touching Kelyren’s arm and then Pandora’s. Jacob knew far too much truths about her. It came with the territory of his age, and her proximity to the ring for her entire life. Still, there were things that he didn’t know about, that she had kept hidden and would fight to keep hidden. “Please, say your final words to the gladiators and then meet me back with Jacob. We do not go into the cages with the gladiators. We wait till the fight is over and only then are we permitted into the ring. I will explain more as the fight starts,” she explained to them.
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It was obvious by the look on Dara's face that the salve had worked to ease his pain, though the expression did not remain long. He was a gladiator and it did no good to let anyone who may be watching know of where his weak point may be. She kept her concentration on her gladiator, doing a second once over to be sure there were no other rooms for concern that she may have missed. When he took the oil, she smiled and pressed a rag to him as well. “Do not use your hands to spread it. It would do no good for you to lose your grip on your weapon or your enemy after all. And remember, a little goes a long way,” she added, wanting to be sure he fully understood the benefits and potential dangers of using the oil. She smiled at the compliment her gave her and let out a small laugh, shaking her head at him. She was quite skilled at herbalism, but she had no magic to wield. Still,
“You can thank me by coming out alive,” she answered, but patted the side of his arm comfortingly. “Come out breathing, and I'll make sure you stay that way,” she promised him softly, not wanting to see another of her gladiators perishing in the ring before she even had the ability to go to them. She moved back from him and gave Dara a reassuring nod, allowing him to select his weapon as he deemed fit. She thought of his ability to breathe fire and her potential ways of alleviating the pain and damage that may cause. While the gladiators chose their weapons, she rummage through until she found a vial of sea salt and nodded, setting it aside if it would be needed. She felt that even being a quarter draconian, Dara had more strengths that his blood granted, deeming that he may not have fully grown into them yet. She would wait and watch.
At Sylvani's touch, the older woman turned to her and listened carefully, nodding her understanding. She turned to look at those assembled and cleared her throat. “Fight hard and do not lose heart. We shall be watching from above, seeing the injuries that will need healing. Hide them from your enemies, but when we come to you, openly reveal to us where your pain and damage is. No gladiator will go without healing,” she promised before bowing to the gladiators surrounding her, giving them her respect and confidence before backing away to stand with Sylvani. She stood straight beside the other woman, waiting patiently for them to move to their viewing area and to hear more of Sylvani's explanation. Not all of the gladiators had chosen healers, and so she left it up to her to decide which of the gladiators she would be paying fuller attention to during the fight. She tied her bandanna over her hair, fully prepared for the job she would be required to do.
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Kelyren found himself staring cross-eyed at the centaur for a moment before he blinked and allowed his vision to refocus on Cutlass.
"Oh," he said stupidly. "Sorry. Didn't mean to offend."
He wasn't too sure why he had apologized. He was too tired to think clearly. It was probably a good thing that he was in a sleep-deprived stupor, though. The scene was painfully familiar - standing with the gladiators before they were thrown into the fighting pit, not knowing if they would live or die, mentally preparing himself to deal with the aftermath of the day's fights. Thankfully, he was too tired to feel the heavy sense of dread that usually crept over him at times like these.
He jerked slightly when Sylvani brushed his arm, his eyes popping open. "Gah! I'm awake! I'm awake!" he blurted out, before he could stop himself. The realization of where he was and what was about to happen hit him, and he quickly shut his mouth, feeling quite foolish.
“Please, say your final words to the gladiators and then meet me back with Jacob."
Kelyren rubbed his eyes, pondering Sylvani's instructions and thinking of something to say to the gladiators. He never knew what to say to men and women who were about to face their death. Would they appreciate a joke, or was he expected to be serious? Did the gladiators want encouragement, or did they want a pat on the shoulder and words of comfort? Decisions, decisions.
"Well, uh..." Kelyren began with a tired grin. He tucked his hands into his pockets and glanced around at the gladiators. "Good luck in there. Don't die."
He fell silent, unable to think of anything witty or inspirational to say, and shuffled over to where the other healers were.
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Leilatha had long since gotten used to sleeping in strange places, so she had no trouble getting an excellent night’s sleep. When the sun rose the next morning, everyone was hurried through breakfast and taken to the Grand Coliseum. It was to be their first real fight in front of a crowd. Leilatha could feel her body preparing itself for the trial ahead, her heart race quickening and her muscles tightening. She was very much in her element today.
Taking a look around the small waiting area, Leilatha’s confidence in her fellow gladiators was assured. The centaur was strong and most surely nimble. Bliss had a determined look and she had fought well against the goblins. Dara was speaking with Pandora, he certainly had a very unique skill. Breathing fire and his scale covered arms seemed to give him a second layer of armor. Sean gave Leilatha a bit of concern, she had promised to pair up with him, to watch his back and work together. However if he tried his previous charging strategy, she would not follow him. It would take time and tests before Leilatha would fully trust Sean.
Jacob burst into the waiting area and explained how the combat system worked. Leilatha was very glad they would get to chose weapons this time, using the chain against the goblins had nearly gotten her killed. Killing should only happen with swords or anything sharp, long and pointy as far as Leilatha was concerned.
Quite suddenly a person appeared to Leilatha’s right. Another elf? Strangely Leilatha felt a bit comforted by knowing a fellow elf would be fighting in the arena with her, but Leilatha’s opinion changed the moment she looked into the other’s eyes. They were too innocent and trusting for her to be a seasoned gladiator. In fact Leilatha was sure the elf had never killed another in combat. What is Jacob thinking? She could jeopardize the rest of the teams safety.
Unable to look at the doomed elf, Leilatha strode over to the weapon’s table. She quickly found a suitable sword, it was not in the best condition, but it was all they were offered. Leilatha decided to grab another sword and two daggers just in case she lost her first blade. Putting the second sword in her belt and a dagger down each boot, she then went to stand next to Sean in the cage. Placing a hand on the barbarian’s shoulder she told him, “I shall watch your back, if you do the same for me.”
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When the table of weapons was brought out, Anvain felt a moment of panic. In the forest spars had always been fought with swords or some type of blade. Luckily there were several blades available; none were of the quality of Anvain’s. She had made the correct decision in keeping her sword hidden. The cold shoulder Leilatha gave her by walking away was a bit of a surprise; Anvain had thought the two of them would become friends considering they were both elves.
But Anvain needed to pick her weapon now and proceed to the cage, hastily grabbing a lighter sword; she stepped into the cage and kept her distance from Leilatha. It was very terrifying to be in such a small space with metal surrounding her, no sky, no trees. Anvain closed her eyes and hoped the cage would open soon or she might begin screaming.
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Bliss shot Pandora a smile, thankful for her wise words. She didn’t think that many of the healers realized just how useful their words were to them, well, to Bliss at least. It helped give her the confidence that she so desperately needed, something that helped boost her fighting. She laughed at Kelyren’s word, glad that his joke helped take off the edge that she was feeling. At his words though, she felt her first rush of adrenaline flow through her veins, making her aware of practically everything. She clenched her fists in hopeful victory and licked her lips, trying to moisten them with the lack of saliva. She had already drank the water that Sylvani had been so kind to give them.
Bliss walked over to the weaponry that they had been so kindly given. She frowned at her thoughts, knowing that she was now thinking of others as kind after giving them some weapons after they had taken away their freedom. But she didn’t think much of it except walk with that slight hop in her walk, trying to look as cheery as possible, not that it was hard. It was her own small rebellion, showing that the king, as hard as he may try, he had yet to steal happiness from her. In fact, he never would, it wasn’t his to take. She wanted to prove to herself that he wasn’t all powerful, they would always have their own happiness, courage and hope and that would never die.
She smirked at the thoughts in her head, pumped up for the fight. She grabbed two daggers, weighing them in her hand. She grinned and sighed a happy smile, she had missed their weight in her hands. She finally felt right again, knowing that these daggers would help her out more than those chains ever could. She slipped another one in the side of her boot, leaving her with three daggers. As far as she was concerned, this fight would probably be an easy one.
A sane part of her mind told her to grab a shitty sword but she refused. She knew that the daggers would put her at a disadvantage for fighting but she knew her aim was fairly good enough and the daggers that they had been offered would put her in her zone. Besides, it was always a little bit more fun when she was reckless, it made the fighting a lot more amusing.
She sauntered into the cage, making a huge show of it. Crowds were watching now and Bliss took that to consideration, knowing that even the king himself might be there. She grinned and gave a small curtsy to the crowd, listening to their cheers. They were getting excited for the fight to start and she felt her lip curl into a nasty snarl into she replaced it with another smile, hoping that no one had seen it. She looked at the other gladiators, knowing that a few others where still picking out their weapon and she cracked her knuckles, giving them a confident smirk.
“So, we’re gonna kick ass again today? I mean, we are the best in the kingdom.” She told them with a cocky wink, letting them all know that she was only kidding. “But seriously, we’re gonna do fine guys. Good luck and try to work together.” She grinned, twirling the two daggers in each of her hands, making them dance over her finger tops as she had longed to do for such a long time.
Yes, this would be easy for her.
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When the draconic man saw the guards brining in the weapon racks he quickly hid the oil from their sight, lest they discover it and decide he didn’t need it. Pandora had been more than helpful, and in a way he imagined a mother might treat her children…that is if her children were grown people killing other people for the sake entertainment; thinking of it in those terms nearly brought a frown upon the man but he withheld it. Instead he returned the nod Pandora gestured to him.
Everyone seemed to be saying their condolences, trying their best to stave of their fears and get them invigorated, in Sean’s case that would be no amazing feat. Dara approached the rack that displayed the short swords. He claimed the hilts of two in each hand, weighing them and inspecting the steel. They were cheap pitiful excuses for swords, made for quantity instead of quality, and they were obviously worn from previous wielders. Nonetheless they were the only weapons he could use properly, though he was far more proficient with long swords, the same basic principles should still apply. He tested those principles by doing a few light strokes with the weapons, in the end he was still unsatisfied but accepted them.
Once inside the cage he took notice of Bliss’s attempt at bolstering their spirits. Dara attempted to grin, though his vocal response was, “I wish I could be as enthusiastic, but I highly doubt this will be an easy one. From what I heard the crowd favors veterans over new blood, and love nothing more than to see slaughtered fresh meat, in which case prepare for anything.” Thinking better of it, that probably wasn’t the best thing to say, so he amended, “Sorry that’s generic advice, like you said lets just kick some ass.” Now there was a true grin on his face and though it didn’t last forever it was at least a little better than being so morbid all the time, despite how their lives were and what they were expected to do soon.
During the wait, Dara slid into a corner and began applying the oil give to him. Most of it went on his unprotected forearms as they were the most prime target for an opponent to grab. The remainder was applied to his face though there wasn’t much left, so whatever oil was there didn’t show itself in an obvious way. He felt he should again thank Pandora for this gift, but of course she had already made it clear on he could to so.
Dara then gathered his thoughts, One day, one day soon I’ll be free. Just a few more battles and we can go home dad, I swear it.
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How exactly do they think that this is a good idea? Cutlass found himself asking as the gladiators spoke to one another. He heard the healer apologize to him and shrugged it off as he walked forward and waited for the rest of the gladiators to take their weapons. Not a bow to be found in the pile. His luck was nonexistent. He sighed as he had to make sure that he stepped back so he could see through the pile. He had to make sure that he was compensating for his blind-spots, which people never seemed to realize that he had. His eyesight was a bit more like a horse’s sight than it was a human’s and he couldn’t look down and see the ground in front of him, or his own knees and chest. Whatever fight he was going into, he was stuck going full tilt, facing the enemy. He was a dangerous addition to the group. Whereas his eyesight was better than a human’s in the dark, it still took him some time to adjust from darkness to light and was easily spooked. His biggest blindspot was also something he had learned to live with. Directly behind him would cause him to kick out. Yet, his strength came from his ability to catch even the most subtle movement and adapt accordingly. His speed, as he was bred to be of racing stock, enabled him to outmaneuver many of his enemies, and his hooves were sharp enough to hurt if he struck out with them.
He just knew that he wasn’t going to be at an advantage in this fight.
He gathered up dual swords. Daggers were worthless. Best fit for slitting one’s throat not for attacking an enemy. Throwing a dagger was equally pointless for a dagger would rotate while thrown and could miss the targeted enemy, possibly hit a teammate but otherwise would leave the person with one less weapon. Swords, even ****-poor swords with poor balance and a dulling edge, was better in his opinion. He spun the swords, made sure that they would fit his hands and not tire him out. He could guard with two swords quite easily, lunge and attack and keep his opponent on the defensive as much as he could.
Cutlass saw the others in the cage and moved into it as well. With some careful maneuvering he was able to place himself in the back and as out of the way as possible. Now, it was just waiting for Sean so that the fight could start.
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Jacob leanded up against a wall as he watched the gladiators pick their weapons. He put a hand on Sylvanis shoulder as he walked by "Cross your fingers" he said before heading towards the cage. He stepped into the cage and looked around soaking in the old memories for a second. He breathed in the musty earthy smell of the cage, listened to the crowd cheer for the poor souls that were out there fighting for their lives. Jacob looked at the gladiators in the cage "You have your weapons, use them well.... your suppoused to be the best of the best show me that now and gain some of my respect." He turned around and started walking out of the cage "Dont die on me, youll make me look bad" he said as he left the gladiators and went to join Sylvani. He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation "I said what I could.... The damn dragon should help them out the rest of the way he owes me that much"
The monster’s ferocious roar shook the very foundation of the arena as it began to seek out its prey. The sight from the cage was distorted by the heavy iron bars, only flashes of a large, brown scaly beast could be seen until soon it was concealed by smoke that it poured from its mouth in a tactic to hide itself from the sharp weapons the opposing gladiators brought against it. The black, inky smoke roiled forth until it covered the entirety of the battle arena. “Ah, my eyes they burn!” “Where is it?!” “It’s right behind you move!” Screams were heard as a bright orange light shined through the darkness and half the crowd cheered the beast’s victory while the other half booed at the loss of their bets. This continued until the last gladiator fell to the creature as it vaulted him up into the crowd with his tail with a sickening crunch sound from the man’s bones breaking. The fight was over now and the crowd was still hungry for more. The beast was being ushered back towards our gladiators and the stone slab in front of the cage next to the iron gate blocking our heroes own cell was rolled back as the monster thumped loudly in, the black smoke following it in like its shadow.
Sounds of chains could be heard clinking around while the guards cursed the monster as they shackled it blindly in the smoke. A grunt came from the beast and a man laughed, a joke at the beast’s expense no doubt. Now the men moved away after spitting towards the creature and the slab moved back into place, locking the creature back into darkness, the only light in its cell was the few slats of sunlight that spilled onto its sides from the slats in the gladiator’s iron gate. The only sounds now were its loud, labored breaths as it tried to bring itself down from the high of fighting. It seemed the beast was not interested in them, until a hot breath rolled over the group, signaling it had turned its head to look in their direction, the smell of sulfur mixed with the moist breath.
The smoke was beginning to clear now and the first truly visible thing that was to be seen of the monster was bright amber eyes as it peered at them silently. A rumbling sound emitted from the beast, growling? No, the more one listened it sounded more like it was a giant purr. The group was suddenly pushed forward at once by the beast’s large tail that it had snaked out through the bars in its cell while it had been watching them. It seemed to want a closer look. “Pleasure to meet you all. I’m Gambrill and what are your names?” The seeming monster said in a pleasant, albeit deep and growling voice. The corners of his lips turned upward in a bit in a toothy sort of smile as he continued to look over them and then began using his tail to run over them one by one.
Now, Gambrill was used to being locked away all of his life so any sort of interaction he could get, he’d milk every minute out of it and that included invading anyone’s personal space. The tip of his large tail ran up and down Dara’s arm, gently feeling the scales as he made a curious hum in his throat. “Interesting.” He growled quietly then moved on to Sean whom he poked and prodded roughly then chuckled deeply, a sound that caused a vibration to move through everyone’s chest. “You’re quite a large human aren’t you?” With that said he eyed Cutlass and very slowly lifted the tip of his tail to touch his cheek. “I haven’t seen one of you in a long time, especially in a place like this. Good luck to you my friend.” Now moving onto the women of the group he was even more gentle in his touches. He began running the tip of his tail over Bliss’ head and over Anvain’s arms; up and down Leilatha’s back in an almost comforting gesture. “I see more women here these days. I don’t doubt your abilities in the ring, it just means the crowd’s bloodlust begins to grow insatiable and our king grows more cruel. Good luck my dears.”
Now that his investigations of the new group was done, the gladiators had time to take in the monster himself who was in fact a dragon, a very large dragon at that. In the cell his full height wasn’t known as the chains he was forced to wear had him prone in a half crouch, half laying position constantly but his sheer mass was enough to impress. The chains in question were shackled around each leg and one around his throat. Links of chain lined his back evenly; a metal ring was driven into the bone of each wing on opposite ends of these chains which kept his wings flush against his body. The rings wouldn’t be enough to keep him from flight if the chains were broken but the constant tautness of the chain was uncomfortable enough to keep Gambrill from fighting against the restraints.
In the arena, the sounds of stones and shuffling could be heard as they prepared the grounds for the next fight but Gambrill seemed to ignore the hustle outside as his attention was taken away from the group momentarily and he seemed to look about for something he’d lost. “Hm, I wonder where my little friend is.”
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She exhaled slowly. Her hands fisted in her dress. Her knuckles were turning white as she watched as the gladiators walked into the cage. She couldn’t speak to them. There were no glorious last words from the Ice-Queen to the men and women that were going in to fight and possibly die for the entertainment of a sadistic King. A couple of the Gladiators walked into the cage bravely. A few showed their trepidation, and Cutlass walked in last. “Silly thing,” she whispered, “he should have been the first in the cage, he takes up so much room.” Not for the first time, she wondered how badly her Gladiators were going to be injured. She wondered if Pandora was going to have enough potions and herbs to deal with the injuries. She hoped that Kelyren was going to be able to handle the wounds that could fester and infect. So many worries swam through her mind that all she could do was retreat behind a carefully crafted defense of ice and cold. Her face, expressionless. Her eyes, hard. Her hands relaxed on the gown and fell to her sides. Nothing was different about her. They were not her gladiators. They were men and women off to fight. Some would survive. Some wouldn’t. It was nearly too hot for the Ice-Queen to continue her defense but she turned away from the cage, her attention focusing on Jacob. “If they survive, I will buy you a beer. The good kind,” she told him. “You’ll get a Royal Hangover,” she said to him.
Sylvani looked towards the healers. She had little to say to them as the roar of the dragon was heard. She wanted to cover her ears. The reverberating sound seemed to reach into the depth of her soul and tear apart everything she had been taught to survive. Still, she stood strong. When the roar subsided, and the screams stopped, she was able to finally speak to the healers. Before she could speak, a guard came and touched her arm. She cast him a withering look and did not answer him as he first spoke to her. Only when he stepped away from her, his hand falling from her arm, did she listen to him.
“By order, you need to tend to the dragon. The arena healer is busy at the moment and you are the one chosen,” he said to her. He didn’t permit her to answer, argue, or agree. He turned around and walked off stiffly.
Sylvani resisted the urge to press her fingers to her temples, she finally spoke to the healers: “When the gladiators move into the ring, I want you to come with me. That roar? That is your first patient. If you would rather go stand in the stands and watch the bloodshed,” her eyes lingered on Kelyren for a moment before she looked at Pandora, “you are free to do so. I have always found that the Gladiators will live or die without my moral support. Despite what you may have heard, my arrogance has not reached so high that I would consider myself a Goddess. Just Queen will do,” she said. Her tone was light, and while she still seemed detached, there was an air of self-deprecating humor in her tone. “Jacob,” she called to him, “Do you want to come in and see Gambrill?” she asked him gently, She knew that he may not want to go in and see the heavily chained creature but to her, the dragon was her friend, the same as Jacob. The same as the healers and the gladiators would become her friends. Perhaps. If the King didn’t kill them all.
She led them inside through the side gate, through what felt like a tunnel, but was probably only a hallway and slipped through the bars that were wide enough for a slender woman and smaller to fit through. It seemed like she had done it before. She looked around. She thought the arena was bad, but this cage was more than cruel. It was torture. It was criminal. It was heartbreaking. For a moment, sorrow set on the young Aubade’s woman’s face as she waited for the dragon to finish speaking to the gladiators. She looked around, seeing that the dragon had carved a peephole that would permit a healer to stare out and see the fight. She saw the blue sky from the hole and wished that it would rain. She much preferred rain, though it was much more dangerous in a fight.
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Cutlass didn’t want to shift. He had to fight the instinct to lash out as he felt people at his back. His worse blindspot and he had to fight down the instinct to just.. kick. He figured if he kicked Sean, the barbarian wouldn’t feel it. Dara would probably never speak to him again, neither would Bliss, or the female-elves. One whom he hadn’t met yet. He was about to try and introduce himself when he heard the roar. He shied, his hooves tapping against the hard ground as he tried to move. That was the sound of a predator, a very large predator and while his human mind knew that he was locked within a cage and not in the ring, he was not able to fight down the instinct to try and run. But where would he run to? There was no where that he could get to and he would not be painted yellow just because there was a loud noise. His tail flicked and hit against his side as his coat bunched and shifted, as if trying to cast of flies that were landing on him. It was a nervous habit that he couldn’t control. “I am sorry,” he said when the noise finally faded.
The dragon’s tail came out and passed over Dara, the one that seemed to treat him as something that was at least equal to humans. Cutlass found that he didn’t mind that person’s company too badly. Then Sean, the large barbarian, aptly said and then…he had to fight instinct again as the Dragon’s tail passed over his cheek. “You are sung of in our myths,” he said, his voice deep and rough. “My family would be pleased to know that your kind still exists. I would say that you give us hope but…I think you would eat us,” he said bluntly. “I am Cutlass,” he said in relief as the dragon passed over him.
From behind the Dragon’s hind-leg came a small, red cloaked figure. The figure moved down the dragon’s leg without fear before it sat close to it. “Gambrill~” a laughing voice rang out from underneath the cloak, mispronouncing the name slightly. It wasn’t the deep, rich voice of a man, or the pleasant trill of a woman. It was the voice of a child. A small child, still learning words. To this child, the world of cages, death and fighting was his life. The dragon, his friend. A growl sounded from the gladiators left as a black dog stepped from the shadows and passed through the space between the iron-bars, curled up next to the boy and eyed the dragon in warning.
Cutlass blinked and looked from the dragon, to the child. “We’re going to be fed to the dragon. If that thing is what the dragon normally eats,it has to be starving,” he said finally. He sighed. “There goes the delusions of grandeur, gold and green grass. Hello Dragon stomach.”
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They say first impressions are important…and what an impression was made here. The draconic man, with nothing else to do decided to witness the current bout, but as soon as he did a confusion settled on him. There was smoke spreading everywhere and none of the combatants could be seen in it. They could be heard though, along with the bellows and trembling roars of a mighty beast. In that moment Dara feared that whatever caused the blood curdling wails of the combatants would be their adversary when the time came.
Then it approached him and his comrades with the blackness still veiling it from their sight, Dara had half the instinct to unsheathe his weapon at that very moment, but reserved himself from doing so. The reason was not clear even to him; perhaps it was a most morbid curiosity that beat out his better judgment. A strong yet familiar smell of sulfur entered his lungs, and though it was distasteful Dara wagered that his comrades would be compelled to plug their noses. The smoke he prepared for by taking shallower breathes, a practice he was also moderately accustomed to. It was not however as if he showed no discomfort during this, if you could see his face that fact would be plainly visible as it squinted into a form resembling someone whom had just tasted something bitter.
Dara could hear very large chunks of iron clashing together, gargantuan iron bonds he surmised, he should have known that even such a powerful creature was a slave like the rest of them; even so this thought did nothing to ease him. When the smoke dissipated it revealed the creature that he suspected it would be, the anticipation of the fact again doing nothing to put any ease on him. It then regarded them with a strange curiosity as it introduced itself (yes it could in fact speak despite the predictable preconceived notions) as Gambrill, and Dara was assured then that this was the great dragon of the coliseum.
Gambrill then did something both odd and what Dara found to be rather invasive. He kept…touching them with his tail almost in an affectionate manner, and when he was…feeling up Dara he couldn’t help give a dirty look as he obviously didn’t take kindly to the invasive gesture, despite the obvious implications of irritating a powerful being would bring. The initial intimidation was wearing off as it was more abundantly clear that this was more of a being of deliberation rather than of a feral nature, but regardless the draconic man remained wary of the true dragon’s intentions. Gathering his courage Dara answered Gambrill’s request for their names, all the while trying to pick up any sort of intent from his reactions, “Darastrix Dastudr, but you may just call me Dara, and not to be ‘rude’ but next time you introduce yourself to someone you may want to lay off the…touching thing.”
Cutlass on the other hand was thoroughly convinced the dragon was amongst them for a feeding, Dara briefly turned to him with an almost amused face and said, “He’s not going to eat us, not in here at least, in the arena maybe but not here, if that puts any ease to your mind.” Dara doubted it would, it didn’t to him. “Am I right?” the draconic descendent asked the true dragon.
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As screams and shouts began to fill the arena, Anvain realized she could no longer fool herself into thinking the fight ahead of them was simply a display of skill. Here it would be for blood, all thoughts of escape quickly fled her mind. She would die far from her home fighting whoever the King wanted. Anvain suddenly shoved her hand in her mouth, biting down hard; she attempted to stifle the building scream that threatened to escape.
Luckily at that moment, a long scaly tail wrapped around the gladiators and pulled them closer to the side of the cage. Focusing her eyes in the darkness Anvain was shocked beyond words. It was a giant lizard! The ones she had seen in the forest were barely to her knees; this one was huge and frightening. If Anvain had not been badly dehydrated she would have piddled right there. She shook like a leaf when the tail ran over her shoulder; there was nowhere to run, so they were trapped with this monster. Realizing the giant lizard had asked her name, she hoarsely replied “I’m Anvain.” Just loud enough for the other gladiators to hear it as well.
Immediately replacing her hand back between her jaws, she began rocking back and forth. This was the worst moment of her life. Once the gates opened she would have to kill or be killed.
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The smell of sweat, blood and dirt was familiar to Leilatha. It had become her life, something she accepted, she was a dealer of death playing in a game with no real winners. Leilatha was standing in the back of the cage, unable to see what was happening in the ring, but by listening to the roar of the crowd it must be very exciting and bloody. Which would only make her groups fight much harder, they would need to match the energy and savagery of the previous fight. Or risk the wrath of the fans.
When the noxious smell of sulfur reached Leilatha’s nose, she immediately plugged it. There seemed to be a cloud of it roiling into an adjacent cage. Wonderful! It could only be the famous Coliseum’s dragon that could make that much smoke. Leilatha sent a quick prayer that they would not be fighting it today, or ever. Shockingly the dragon snaked its tail through the bars and wrapped it around everyone, the centaur seemed the most bothered by the intrusion, which made Leilatha move quickly away as she had been standing near his rear.
The dragon touched everyone with his tail in turn, when he reached her, it was apparent he was simply trying to provide comfort even offering an astute observation about the increase of females in the arena. “I am called Leilatha and you are correct, it has changed the crowd. To see women die regularly has only made the King more sadistic. It seems that adding unsuitable fighters into the ring is his current passion.” At the last comment her eyes drifted to Anvain. Who had taken to biting her hand, a sure sign of madness. Leilatha was almost tempted to put the younger elf out of her misery, but perhaps Anvain would come in handy as a living shield or at least slow an enemy. Not very honorable, but that move had saved Leilatha on several occasions.
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Here comes the worst part. The waiting. How long will the gladiators have to spend down there, I wonder... and will there be anything left to fix once they're done?
Kelyren sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He was sleepy and wanted nothing more than to find a nice comfortable place to curl up for a nap, and forget about the upcoming fights. To make matters worse, he would have to heal the gladiators afterwards, and he wasn't sure if he was awake enough to do his job properly.
A roar cut through the air, shattering the fog of sleepiness that was clouding his mind. He snapped to attention, his ears ringing painfully. The sound seemed to echo through his ears, reverbrating inside his head and knocking his thoughts around until.
"What the hell?!" he exclaimed, glaring around at the other healers and Jacob, as if one of them was responsible for the ear-splitting roar. A sinking feeling nagged at him, and he guessed that the source of the roar was going to be the gladiators' first adversary. He hoped that it was all bark and no bite.
"That roar? That is your first patient."
Sylvani's explanation made him want to groan in frustration. Their "first patient" sounded like a very feisty, disagreeable individual, possibly a violent one as well. Something Kelyren figured he'd be better off staying away from, so he went up to the stands to watch the next fight.
He found a place to sit and rested his chin in his hands, waiting for the fight to begin. He felt alone and somewhat vulnerable, and wondered if Pandora was going to join him.
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Jacob smiled at Sylvani's offer and winced as her comment reminded him of his current hangover "Well now they really have to win to help keep me thoroughly smashed. I would hate to go through town completely sober" he half jokingly as he took the medication she gave him for his current hangover. He flinched as the bitter taste washed into his mouth making his eyes water. When he recovered from the medication Sylvani was asking him if he wanted to join her in meeting Gambril. Seems she had to fix him up after his latest slaughter. Jacob grimaced at the thought of Gambrill. He didn't like the dragon and the way it took pleasure in messing with him, but he also in some ways considered it a friend, at the very least despite what he thought of the dragon it was one of the few good souls in this damnable city. "Sure" He said "I need to hear what he said to the gladiators anyways". He followed her through and the small side gate and down the hall to the bars. He raised an eyebrow as she slipped through the bars. "Well sadly enough I don't believe my womanly physique can make it through the bars so I'll be back in a minuet so I can get the damn key to the cage.
Jacob walked back out and looked around finding the guard. "Hey soilder you forgot to give my healer the key to that damn dragons cell" Jacob said gruffly holding his hand out. The guard raised an eyebrow at Jacob "What that skinny ice ***** couldn't slip through those bars?"
"Just give me the damn Key." Jacob said glaring at the man
"Fine, fine" said the guard as he found the cage key on the ring.
Jacob snatched the key up and marched away returning to the cage and unlocking the door and walking in standing next to Sylvani. The dragon had what would be called a luxurious cage by arena standards. By luxurious it was large very much so. Since he was one of the major attractions of the arena and had been so for many years they had given him the biggest cage they could find. The dragon itself was at the far side of the cage assuredly talking to the gladiators. Jacob could make out Gambrills large form in the little light that was given and couldn't see the gladiators for Gambrills bulk in the way.
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"There He is" Gideon said as he noted the healer sitting in the stands. Gideon was an attractive looking man with a shock of blond hair and an athletic frame.He tried to remember the mans name and it came to him Kelyren thats right... he would be the perfect choice. Gideon adjusted his suave clothes and sat down next to the healer. "Hello friend" he said as he looked over the arena floor and watched some mages casting spells over the floor "So tell me... would you be interested in making alot of money in a short amount of time? It wouldn't take much effort on your part" He said with a cheery smile. He figured the healer would take the offer, or at least be interested. He had made his offer to hundreds of healers and he usually succeeded 3 out of 4 times
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The strong smell of sulphur entered Bliss’s nostrils and a small frown fell upon her face. She disliked the sudden smell and she was also quite confused, why would there be sulphur? She knew the king wasn’t sadistic and mad enough yet to light the gladiators on fire and watch them burn, it just didn’t seem like his style. The jaunting cheers from the crowd also made her head ring and she felt her false bravado as she stood in the darkness of the cage, the strong smell still flowing down pharynx with each breath she inhaled. She had learnt to breath by her nose long ago, breathing by her mouth just proved to make her even more thirsty for water she wasn’t likely to get. Standing there she could feel the ever present creeping of dehydration and malnutrition upon her but she never quite got there. They took care of the gladiators, just to the bare minimum. It was all about surviving, not being comfortable.
A small yelp came from her mouth when she saw a tail pulled her forward and a blush immediately crept onto her features. She had let herself look weak in front of the others; she clutched at the daggers in her hand, trying to let them calm her nerves. She wasn’t exactly sure what was happening but it had to be slightly interesting and somewhat safe. The audience wasn’t able to see them so Bliss knew with a certainty that there were all still safe. Although the logic couldn’t help the fear that crept up her spine, chilling the blood in her veins and making her fall into a cold sweat. She wiped the back of her wrist on her pants in hopes to get rid of the sweat forming there.
She jumped once more when it started to talk to them and it’s tail touched each of them. So, apparently it was a good guy and Bliss grinned immediately. They were in need for allies and she thought that the dragon would prove to be a fantastic one. The tail felt nice on her skin and she did find herself leaning into the touch, not that she would admit it to the others. The dragon that she had feared only moments before seemed like someone she would be able to trust along with her teammates and that made her all the more happier. “Thank you for the luck Gambrill, I appreciate it. The name’s Bliss by the way,” She told him, giving him a blissful smile to prove her words. “Weird name for a gladiator, but still. I like it quite a lot.” She told him, much like she told everyone else, she adored the fact that her name suited her so.
She listened as Cutlass fretted about being eaten by the dragon only to have Dara supress his fears and Bliss smiled, stretching out to get the kinks she had yet to get out of her body this morning. She was even starting to find the smell not as bad as she has before from her now pleasant outlook on the matters. “I agree with Dara Cutlass, I think we’re fine. In fact, I think we have reason to trust you, don’t we Gambrill?” She said out loud, clamping her mouth shut before any other words came from it. She spoke too much with no filter, something she wanted to hit herself for. She was going to go on on how she assumed that he was feeling the anger towards the king too and he would probably be an important ally if things ever happened. But she couldn’t, it was too risky. So instead she just sat there in the silence she felt like she had created and waited for the gates to open so everyone could just forget what she said.
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Pandora stood beside Sylvani patiently, knowing that there was no need to rush to the arena while the gladiators remained in their cage. She watched with a saddened expression as each of the gladiators was marched within and hide from sight. She prayed silently first to the Goddess Amara to grant the brave souls the wear-with-all to survive and then to the God Kreios to grant them strength to overcome their adversaries. Men would die this day, many men. She simply prayed that it was not the men and women she was set to watch over. The older woman bowed her head in a special prayer to Torbulis, a god her husband had explained to her, to watch over the young man with the draconian lineage and deliver him to her with few injuries. She too worried over whether her supplies would be enough should the group become injured beyond the ability of the healers present. Still, there was nothing more she could do about this now.
A great noise rose above them and Pandora merely closed her eyes, allowing the roar to envelope her senses and reverberate within her body. It was the cry of a noble being, the likes of which she had been intimately familiar with for most of her years. Images swam over her vision, a great silver beast soaring over head, the feel of the air as it swirled about her dress while the being landed, the embrace she received once the transformation was complete. As the sound subsided, the woman opened her eyes and remembered where it was she stood, the memory fading back to the recesses of her mind to return only in her dreams. At the approach of the guards, a defiant stiffness ran through Pandora, causing her to stand straighter and wait as they addressed the head healer. She would show no weakness, betray not her thoughts to these men. She overheard the order, but waited as Sylvani did for the guard to leave their company.
At the chance to meet with and assist in healing the dragon of the arena, a new life seemed to come over Pandora. She had certainly heard tale of the creature, but had never been granted permission to be within his company. She had hopes that the great beast would be older, would perhaps know the wilds that once housed many of his kind. Lifting her skirts in one hand, she gave a nod to Sylvani before looking to Kelyren who seemed to show a bit of trepidation about going to see the beast. She tried to smile comfortingly to him, nodding as he decided to sit in the arena to watch the fighting. “I fear for his inexperience,” she spoke quietly, following Sylvani as she led the way to the dragon's den, which truly was merely the a separate cage than that of the other gladiators. The smell of sulfur caused her to wrinkle her nose, never enjoying such a smell. The first thing she saw once her eyes had adjusted were the chains binding the creature within the tight enclosure. Her heart broke, knowing that freedom was the only way for a dragon to live, that the chains would only lead to a shorter life.
Once Jacob returned with the key, she entered inside and stood beside him and Sylvani, trying to see clearly in the dim light of the cage. She too noticed the hole and praised the weather, allowing for surer footing to those fighting within. Still her gaze continued to travel to the dragon, trying to make out features that would denote age and particular breed. She assumed from the sulfur that he could breathe fire, and it certainly was a male dragon. She glanced at the gladiators but said nothing more to them, her peace having been made prior to their fight. She simply gave them an encouraging nod before going back to the task of wondering what it was that caused the mighty dragon discomfort and pain, not seeing any wounds from her standing point. A child bounded around the dragon and she nearly had a small heart attack, so surprised she was by his appearance. Who was he? Why did the dragon keep him around? Was he kin? She could only wait and watch the young boy as he giggled and moved around the beast as one would with an old friend.
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Settling down as comfortably as he could in his tight chains, he listened closely to their names as they each answered. Smiling at Dara, he chuckled a bit at his request to hold back on the touching. “I apologize my friend, I’m afraid when one is locked away from kind faces for as long as I have been they tend to grasp onto as much civil socialization as they can. Forgive me, I’ll remember in the future to restrain myself when it comes to you brother.” Flashing a toothy smile towards the draconic gladiator, hoping the gesture made up for his breech of etiquette with the man, he then listened to the women give their names and nodded to each of them in turn. He couldn’t help the grin that turned up his scaly face at Bliss’ upbeat attitude but most of his attention was drawn to the thin Anvain, he sorely worried the girl wouldn’t make it past the first fight. “It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. Bliss, Anvain and Leilatha, good luck to all of you in your future of the arena and if there is anything I can ever do for you don’t be afraid to ask. Of course it has to be a task that can be accomplished within the realms of my chains and cage.” Chuckling once more, his great tail swished back and forth lazily as he contentedly now watched the flighty Cutlass introduce himself. He was honestly impressed that the Centaur hadn’t bolted at the very sight of him let alone when his tail reached up to lay a touch. “Ah, Cutlass, an honor to meet you my friend and yes my kind do still exist at least, I know I still exist but I cannot profess to know how many more dragons fly the skies these days. I fear very few. I promise though, if I were free I would not eat you, I would only eat animals that were not capable of speaking back to me. Cross my heart!” Smiling at his use of the human term, his smile only grew as he heard the small voice of a child near his back leg. Turning his head as much as he could with the chain about his throat constricting his movements, he spied the young boy and grinned, curling his tail about the boy and the dog protectively before rumbling contentedly. “Erryn, you’re late my young friend. How have you been today?” He asked as soft as he was able in his growling voice as the tip of his tail passed smoothly over the young child’s cheek. His attention was torn away from his friend only by the comments of Cutlass and the others who were debating whether or not this was his lunch and Gambrill couldn’t help but laugh loudly at that. “My food?! No! This here is my closest friend! Isn’t that right my boy?! Why, I wouldn’t hurt him if my life depended on it and Brute here wouldn’t allow it either would you boy?” His laugh died down into a chuckle as he listened to the others and nodded at Dara’s words. “No, I won’t harm you in here.” Odd though, he only specified that in here they were safe from him but not out in the arena. A sad look passed through his eyes only momentarily before he looked to Bliss and grinned. “I happen to think I am quite trustworthy. I want to do everything in my power to assure that every single one of you survive your trials here. Yes, you can trust me.”
The sounds of stones scraping against one another was even louder now as the lay out for the arena was nearing completion. A loud bellow from the grounds caused Gambrill to look out towards the pit, silent for a moment, before looking back to the group and randomly began speaking. “I’m not sure any of your ideas on the subject but I find that when attacking predator or prey animals, the back of the leg is an excellent target. If the creature is swifter than you are then a well-placed hit there can quickly bring it down to your speed. If the beast is more massive than you then this strike can cause it to collapse, bring it down to your level for a fatal attack. Of course, that’s only my thought on it.” He stared at them for a few moments, hoping they thought more into what he was saying and didn’t automatically write it off as the ramblings of a senile old lizard. The iron gate was now lifting, it was time. As the gladiators were ushered forward, Gambrill hushed his voice as he hurriedly whispered to them. “Remember! Always lead with your left and guard with your right!”
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The iron gate locking the gladiators in slowly grated up shining the bright light of day into the gladiators cage. As the gladiators stepped out of the cage into the roar of the crowd an unusual sight was there for them to behold. To the left and right of them were tall stone walls almost ten feet in height and straight ahead there was a left and a right turn. Suddenly in the sky a large image appeared of the gladiators standing there. There was a faint swirl in the picture then a small plump man wearing large purple robes appeared. "Citizens one and all!" the image spoke in a booming voice that could be heard even through the racket the crowd was making "As you can see we are going to do something a bit different for this match. Today you get the pleasure of seeing the gladiators fighting in a special match. The idea for which was given to us by none other than our glorious king Blackwell!" The crowd applauded for a minuet before the plump man held a hand up for silence "Todays match shall be a labyrinth match as dubbed by our king! For your pleasure these brave gladiators shall fight tooth and nail through this deadly maze filled with traps of all sorts." Another cheer from the crowd "Now for the choosing of the opponent we shall let our glorious king who has graced us with his presence today choose what manner of vicious beast will be brought out!" The crowd went silent and after a few seconds the image switched to the face of a handsome man with short cropped hair, piercing grey eyes and a dark brooding face. The image gave a charming smile and spoke "My loyal subjects, as told to you by the arena master I have personally designed this maze to ensure that we all enjoy this fight to our utmost ability, and of course I have also personally picked out the monster to inhabit my maze. They are creatures from myths and legends that has terrified man for years. They are the guardians of my dear friend king Minos's own personal labyrinth, and are rumored to have never let anyone escape." Blackwell let the tension build in the air before announcing "So for todays fight you will see the minotaur fight against our valiant gladiators! BUT" he interrupted the crowds cheer "There will be not one but three of these deadly creatures searching for our gladiators!" The crowd burst into a great roar of excitement. Their king never let them down when it came to a good show. The king waited for the crowd to calm a bit before continuing "The fight shall be viewed via the magic image my personal mages have given us that allows us to view the action up close. so now" With a devilish grin and a weird gleam in his eye Blackwell announced "LET THE FIGHT BEGIN!".
There was a loud grating as the monster cage was opened and then the sound of a bulls cry that was loud enough for the gladiators to hear. The gladiators had their choice of going left or right and travel deeper into the tunnel heading torwards the center of the maze to a large open area where they can fight the minotaurs easily.
Gales, you are poor RPer.
That says all.
This is DISPLAY of RP. To display the good quality RPing to the newbies like you. And brag about the skills :tongue.gif:.
It may be a display of a rp but it shows the quality of rpers in a different PLACE not here. If they want to brag about their skills they can brag about it else where so that it doesn't make a huge post like this. IT may amaze some people that they could do this but in enough time i could write a story longer then their rp with the same quality. Also i am not going to say that i am a god at rping. I only came here around 4 months ago so yes i still am technicaly a noob to fourm rping. What you are saying is that you know better then i do in rping, but that doesn't matter since no one is better then the other.
((Please, capitalise "I". That makes me feel about people unserious, along with pony avatars and stupid names.))
Ya know, the people here don't even roleplay. They just play.
"i cmoe out of the cave and see krukes and i wave to him"
"krukes notices imo and waves to him too. he says "hello""
The posts aren't longer than a paragraph. As far as I know, RPing itself requires the participants to actually write like they write a book. They describe feelings, thoughts, motivations, not just say that he stabs the guy and runs away.
+1 My dear Watson.
Indeed it does I agree with you on that matter for if you do not have the disciptive abilitys to describe what happens in a rp, then there is little chance that it can survive very long. You must be dedicated an serious to rp for if not then what was the point of joining and coming to the fourm rp. So I choose 1+ to you.
Thank you for listening.
Reading it, does it feel like a linear story path to you? You can easily tell by how the perspective jumps around often recounting events that just happened, this would make for something of a confusing read. The individual posts are clearly marked so that one may read in chunks as it was intended. And no, it truely doesn't fit anywhere besides here, on these forums. There is no rule against displaying a past RP for entertainment purposes.
To clarify, this had nothing to do with bragging rights. Only sharing a good experiance I had with others.
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Kelyren was suddenly aware that he was not alone. He looked up at the well-dressed man who had joined him in the stands, trying to recall if he knew this person or not - he couldn't.
"Good morning," he said politely, with a friendly smile. Could this person be trusted? He dimly remembered something or other about healers being in danger of bribes or attacks or some nasty fate... It was a pity he couldn't recall exactly what he had been warned about, but he knew enough to be wary around strangers, especially strangers who offered him deals that sounded too good to be true. Making a lot of money with little effort on his part? Yep, too good to be true. There had to be some sort of catch to this that the man was not telling him.
Nope, Kelyren decided. Can't trust him. I don't even know his name and I've never seen him before. Why would he approach some healer kid and offer him something like this?
The prospect of a lot of money was tempting, though. There was a lot he could do with money. He could buy favors from others. He could bribe guards. He could possibly even buy his freedom and be released from servitude...
Or this could be a trap and he could wind up imprisoned or dead.
"I dunno," Kelyren responded to the man's offer. "Not sure what I'd do with it. Everything I need is already provided." His tone became sarcastic, and he twisted his friendly smile into a bitter smirk. "Unless money can bring back someone who's been dead for a few months, I don't think I need any. Thanks for the offer, though."
A vague memory of his sister floated into his mind as he spoke. It hurt to remember her, like a dull ache that no herbs or magic could heal. However, it was likely that the man would accept his reason, and leave him alone... or so he hoped.
Kelyren turned his attention back to the arena floor, making it clear that he was declining the offer.
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Sylvani heard the carefully crafted riddle that the dragon poised to the gladiators. Her soft hand petted over his neck, recalling all of the riddles that she had heard over the years and all the time that she spent trying to figure them out. Only a few times had see been able to figure out what Gambrill had been trying to say to the gladiators. She kept petting over its neck. Her eyes were hard and angry as Kelyren once again decided that he was going to stand outside and watch the ring. “I wonder if he has any healing skills at all,” she muttered to Pandora. She was going to give him more than a few angry words if she didn’t calm herself down soon. “I am already tired of him. I ask you two to pick gladiators to concentrate on and he hems and haws. I mention that there is someone that needs the help of a healer and he stands out on the bloody ring to watch the fight. He is a waste of my time. Maybe if I am lucky, the king will decide that the prat will be sent into the ring,” she said. True, heated anger laced her voice as she kept petting over Gambrill. She trusted her sense of touch more than her sight when it came to the dragon. In the limited light that she had, she wanted to make sure that she didn’t miss anything.
She breathed out slowly and forced a calm back to the forefront. “Gambrill,” she called to him, her hands still wandering. “If you could direct me to any ills that you have. Muscle aches, gorges, wing-rub, even hunger pains…” she said, continually petting her hands over him. She stood on her tiptoes and pet as high as she could.
She heard the laughter of the child and she kept petting over the dragon. “Erryn, please mind Gambrill’s tail. Don’t step all over him, remember your manners,” she said to him as the child came and pressed his face into her skirt. She reached down with one hand, pushed the cloak off of his head and petted over his dark brown hair. She didn’t need to look down to know that as her fingers ran through his hair, it would hit against some of the spots that were along his hairline. “In my pouch is a sandwich, you can have it.”
Erryn looked up at his mother before he squirmed and reached into the pouch. He bypassed the vials and the herbs and his hand located the carefully wrapped sandwich before he pulled it out. He unwrapped it. Bit into one half of it before he walked away from his mom and to Gambrill’s front. He held up the other half of the sandwich to the dragon. “Here,” he murred. “Food. Is good. Momma made it,” he explained.
Sylvani laughed slightly. “I didn’t make it, don’t worry Gambrill,” she said before she directed Pandora over to her. She saw as Erryn stared up at the woman before he went back to paying attention to Gambrill, holding up the sandwich to the dragon.
“Pandora?” she called to the woman, “if you’d come over here, I think I found a nodule that could use some of the herbs and I’d like to see how yours work,” she said. “I want you to watch Kelyren, closely. I don’t trust him. He refuses to utilize his skills to heal. He is lazy and I would rather see him fighting in the ring and having some worth than ignoring everything around him,” she said, massaging the wing-joint. She exhaled slowly before she shook her head; there was something else that she was trying to say before Pandora asked her. “The boy, he’s mine,” she said finally. She wanted to nip any questions in the bud. “Jacob knows, a friend of mine knows and the only people that know otherwise is Gambrill,” she patted the dragon fondly, “the others were just members of my team, and since they are dead, they aren’t about to tell anyone,” she said with a heavy sigh. “This new team, if they survive, will meet him. I won’t have a choice. I can’t keep hiding him in the forest or making poor Gambrill babysit,” she explained to the woman. “There’s not much that I can do to hide him. I’m not good at glamour magic and the spots that he has on the hairline and other areas say everything as to who is father is. He has my eye-color but his magic hasn’t affiliated itself yet…” she said. “His name is Erryn, and I want Kelyren kept away from him. If he doesn’t want to be part of the team, I don’t want him near my child. For all I know, Kelyren would sell him to the king before I could blink,” she said.
“What do you think about it, Gambrill? am I being too harsh?” she asked, waiting for Jacob to come into the cage before she’d ask him the same question. “I just…don’t know what to do with him,” she said, resting her head against the dragon’s side. She heard the roar of the crowd, the carry of the king’s voice and cold fire caused a strong spike in her magic, before she was calm again and able to resume petting over Gambrill, watching Pandora.
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Though he was suspicious at of Gambrill at first, it continued to treat them with civility, and when he explained how social interactions were a rarity for him the draconic man then regarded him differently. The dragon, like them was a gladiator, forced to live a life that could drive anyone mad. Gambrill made a great smile at him, and he could sense no hint of deception from the intelligent beast, though one could argue that expressions were harder to read from a non-humanoid. The dragon insisted that he would not harm the small child attending to him, calling him his closest friend. Curious; how could a mere child come to know him, unless somehow introduced by an adult?
Then Gambrill began bizarrely talking about predators and prey, and from the tone of voice he seemed to be insinuating something. Could this have any relation to their bout? Before Dara could ask he and his comrades were ushered out into the arena, and all at once the crowed roared at their presence, not that it meant anything in support for his team, they would do that for anyone. Now Dara didn’t know quite what to expect, he had his own ideas of course but none of them came close to this.
A labyrinth, of all the convoluted, sadistic, infuriating…Dara cooled himself down a bit he needed to survey his surroundings and try to find anything they could use to their advantage. Overhead was an image of the arena master addressing the crowd, playing to them to rally excitement, which was no large feat by any means. Dara took special attention when he mentioned traps earning yet another frown from him, he thought, This can’t possibly get any wor- **** I jinxed it.
And sure enough, the bad news only got worse, heralded by Blackwell himself no less! At the sight of him Dara’s eyes narrowed and his teeth were barred visibly, and as the slimy turd of a man spoke, each word that formed on his lips made his blood boil. The tyrant announced that they would go toe to toe…with minotaurs, three minotaurs. Many obscene words raced through Dara’s mind at the moment and he had half a mind to shout them out too, but hearing the cages open followed by the cry of their opponents brought him out any sort of tirade welling in his mind.
He put the current predicament into a tactical perspective. Three ferocious beast-men were wandering through the maze searching for them and will likely charge on sight. There was low maneuverability in this maze so that wasn’t an option so far. There were two paths on their left and right, there was the option of splitting up into two teams…but then they may simply be picked off. Then thoughts of Gambrills words came to mind of predators and prey; was this what he meant? Minotaurs were certainly more massive and swift than the average human; perhaps his advice to strike at the back of the leg could be applicable. Dara also recalled him saying, “Remember! Always lead with your left and guard with you right!” Unfortunately that advice had no clear applications though it did give Dara an idea.
“Alright everyone listen up! We’re going in a two by three formation, a line starting with two people in the front and ending in two in the back. We’re going through the maze nice and slow, they mentioned traps. Sean, Leilatha, you two will take point.” Before he assigned the next two in line he noticed Anvain in a trembling and shocked state, it was now clear to him that it was likely that she had never taken a life, Great, a straggler. He thought for a small moment, then deliberated this conclusion, “Bliss, you and…Anvain was it?” they had never introduced each other but he believed he heard her say her name to Gambrill, “You two are behind them, Cutlass an I will watch the rear.” Just for reassurance Dara translated everything he just said to Sean.
“Everyone got that?” he addressed them once more. “If you see one of our opponents let everyone else know, it’ll probably charge at us, when it does I want everyone’s weapon aimed at it like this,” he unsheathed one of his swords and held it pointed away from him, the blade level with his eyes and the hilt mere inches from the right of his face. “In fact it’s probably best that you have them out in this position most of the time. Leilatha, Sean, lead on by taking the left.”
He hoped he was clear enough and that everyone understood his orders. For Leilatha and Sean to take point was to have two of their best fighters out in front, and they already paired with each other so it made more sense to keep it that way. He put Anvain and Bliss behind them so that they would be protected in the center, no offence to their fighting prowess, but in these conditions, Bliss’s specialty with knives which called for maneuverability simply couldn’t be applicable. The second reason for them being together was Anvain, if anyone could keep her nerves under control it was Bliss, Anvain may only be a liability at the moment but he wasn’t about to make her a meat shield. As for him and Cutlass that was simply the luck of the draw, he would just have to trust that the centaur would do his best in the given environment.
“Lead with your left and guard with your right,” he quoted under his breathe, it was inaudible to the others. They were taking the left path and guarding from the right sooon to be the rear, and though Dara didn’t know why he was heading the advice of a being whom he had just met, or if that was even the correct interpretation, they at least now had a plan…of sorts, it couldn’t be called perfect by any means. But who knows? Perhaps they would come out alive by some miracle; they sure as hell needed one.
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The moment the hand touched his neck, Gambrill didn’t even tense as he knew the touch so well by now. His eyes merely followed the gladiators until he the gate closed completely behind them and he could no longer track their whereabouts, at least he had that spying hole he carved not so long ago. With the gladiators now gone, his age clouded eyes were turned back to the small boy and the grin returned to his face as he watched him attempt to climb his side to no avail then promptly run about with laughter. His eyes were on the boy, an ear to the arena and an ear to Sylvani as he listened in on her fuming at an apparent new healer she wasn’t pleased with.
Turning his horned head as far as it would go, he watched as Erryn skittered to his mother to retrieve a snack then hurry up to him and offer the rest. He chuckled, his eyes upon the boy as he answered his mother’s earlier question. “I am old, I’m afraid I ache everywhere.” His tongue stuck out as he lapped the sandwich from the boy’s hand, curling the tip of his tongue around his hand for a moment knowing it would prompt a squeal from him before he took off once more. Now that his young friend was content to run around and play with his tail, Gambrill settled down, rumbling contentedly and enjoyed Sylvani’s pets as she searched for any wounds of any kind. She was always so gentle with him, and he appreciated that fact greatly but he was always a difficult patient and kept his complaints to himself. It was enough for him just to have the company of others with him. Sylvani’s next question pulled him from his thoughts and despite the fact he had been listening to every word his friend had been saying, he had been drifting off, lulled by her pets and looked at her with a shy grin before answering. “Well, if you truly want my humble opinion my dear, you’ve always been a very intense individual but of course it’s one thing I adore about you, your passion.” He pulled his tail away from Erryn’s playful grip gently to drag slowly over the cage bottom to her face where he touched her cheek gently. “Give the boy a chance though. This can be a terrifying world, not everyone is dull to its sensations just yet. Perhaps he is holding back because he does not wish to be part of it at all, which I’m sure you can understand and I can as well. See what he can do at the heat of the moment after this battle, and then make your decisions on him hm?” His tail tip gently stroked her face before dropping down and returning to Erryn as he smiled at Sylvani. “And smile more my dear, I do so miss it. It brightened my day.” He commented as his eyes took in her stressed features before traveling up to Pandora and Jacob. “Ah, hello there, Pandora was it? A pleasure to meet you my dear and Jacob, my it has been a long while hasn’t it?” If anyone didn’t know any better it could have been sworn that a mischievous gleam flew threw the dragon’s eyes if just for a moment. He eyed the trainer for a moment longer before his full attention was given towards the arena. “Can someone tell me which path they’re taking?”
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Jacob grinned as he watched the child run around offering Gambrill food. "Growing up with a dragon as a friend, the child will probably be damn well near fearless when he gets older" He said with a laugh. After the dragon and sylvani got done conversing Jacob raised an eyebrow as Gambrill greeted them; The damn dragon was always scheming something. "Yes it has been a long time indeed, seems you haven't changed much" Jacob shook is head and addressed Sylvani. "The lizards right, the kid is young and honestly if I didn't know that the dragon here is just and overgrown cat with scales and wings then I would probably be a bit scared to come down here too. He hasn't gotten a good chance to show his skills so wait until this fight is over to judge him...I am only saying this because we dont need conflict in our ranks, not if we want to survive this." Something tickled the back of Jacobs mind telling him he had forgotten something important dealing with the healers but for the life of him he couldn't remember what. After a moment of silence Jacob walked over to the peep hole and stared out at the image in the sky showing the gladiators. "They are taking the left path by the looks of it, though they haven't moved much yet. I believe they are getting in formation before taking off... not a bad decision." Jacob said as he heard the minotaurs cry once more.
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Gideon continued smiling as the healer refused his offer and turned away. "Oh dear" he said in mock disappointment "Your not even going to listen to my offer... fine I guess I will have to give you a little incentive." He smiled as he looked around to make sure the spectators were not paying the slightest bit of attention then reached beneath his robes and pulled out a black wand. He pointed the tip of the instrument at the healers back "Well if you will take a glance over your shoulder you will see that I have a small black want pointed at you. This pretty little device casts an enfeeblement spell... so unless you know or can afford someone that has an extremely large amount of healing prowess to remove this little curse, you will be a useless lump of flesh the rest of you life.That is unless you decide to listen to my offer a bit longer, and take it into a bit more consideration."
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As the gladiators were sent into the ring, a soft breath she had not realized she had been holding left Pandora as she brought her full concentration in front of her to her lead healer and the dragon in need of their help. She could not fathom the riddle meant for the gladiators and honestly, had not thought too greatly upon it. It would do her no good to understand the warning if the gladiators could not figure it out for themselves. She sighed as Sylvani began speaking upon Kelyren and no argument came from the older woman. “He is a cause for concern,” she said, speaking to Sylvani, as well as Jacob and Gambrill. She was all for giving chances where chances were due, but in this world, there was very little room for mistakes and indecision. “While I do understand your anger, you do not wish for the King to set him into the ring. You are simply frustrated, and rightfully so.” She moved closer to the mighty dragon and gave a bow of respect before continuing. “He comes to the gladiators half asleep, and I feel I can not rely on him to bring a hasty hand or work efficiently. I can not even be certain if he will have the ability to do what is necessary for the them. I do however, agree with Jacob and Gambrill. Save final judgment until after this battle.”
She watched as the small child ran to Sylvani and observed as he whole demeanor shifted when dealing with the young boy. The youth was charming and Pandora could not help but smile as he offered the mighty beast half of his sandwich. The smile only widened as she moved beside the younger woman, glancing at her for a moment. “He is precious. You must be very proud,” she said softly, watching as Gambrill played with the child as well, feeling a sense of family from the group that sent a small ache in her heart. Still, now was not the time and she instead stepped closer to the mighty dragon at Sylvani's request. As she rummaged through her selection of potions, salves, and vials she listened to Sylvani's concerns.
“I will be sure to observe Kelyren more closely. I can understand your concerns and do not fault you for them,” she said honestly, sending a smile to the boy. “I understand. Believe me, I completely understand your desire to keep him safe and away from any who may explain who he is to the king,” she assured. “I will not speak a word about him, and while I do not have any magic to speak of, I do have methods by which I can try hiding the spots. Concealment agents. I have none on me at the moment, and I will need a few ingredients to make it, but if applied daily and watched carefully, it may be able to help keep the boy, Erryn, from being looked at too closely.” It was something that may be able to help a small bit in keeping the child's special features hidden, though it was only a temporary fix. She would love to have the child around them all, bringing a sense of hope and peace the innocence of such a young boy could provide. “Erryn,” she said, speaking to the young boy. “My name is Pandora. It is a great pleasure to meet you.” She smiled at the boy before bringing her attention back to the dragon at hand.
She stopped for a moment as she regarded the dragon before her, taking in his hardened features and smiling for a moment. She wasn't sure if he would be able to tell if she were dragon-bound or not, but simply the sight of him brought hope to her, false though it may be. “If you would permit, Gambrill, I would alieviate you of any pain you may be experiencing. I can assure you, I will not harm you. Not that such a mighty and noble beast, such as yourself, could not stop a mere woman if you so desired.” She praised the dragon and ran her hand over his scales for a moment, to assure him she would not do anything to harm him, before moving her hand over the nodule. “This will pinch a small bit, but it will alleviate your pain.” Taking her small knife, she shifted the plating of some of the scales and kneaded her hands over the nodule, determining its size. She removed a thick salve and taking a hefty sum in her hand, began to massage it into the area, the combination of the massage relaxing the muscles and the salve shrinking the nodule would have him feeling good as new. After a few more moments, she shifted his scales back into protective place and gently rubbed the spot after wiping her hands clean on a towel. “There. If there is anything else, I will be happy to help, though some of my stores may not be enough for a patient of your size,” she explained before turning to Sylvani.
“The herbs I use are sometimes only half of the work,” she explained, pulling out one particular vial. “This is a standard antibiotic by which to overwhelm infection from the inside. And this,” she said, pulling out a second vial, “is rubbed on the wound to fight outside infection. If the wound is not a cut, and instead a muscular injury, I have salves that I use with a massaging technique to relieve the pain and rejuvenate the muscles.” She placed the vials back in her pouch and smiled. “In addition, I have pain relievers, anti-toxins, bandaging, and tools to aid me. I can make a temporary splint if one of the gladiators breaks a leg or arm, as well as the skill to remove shattered bits of metal from the body.” Keeping her self as presentable as possible, she smiled, wanting to make a good impression on her higher in command. “When I only have my herbs to heal by, I must be well learned in techniques and ailments, as well as their symptoms. And I have worked hard to be as well trained as I am now.”
All that was left now was Sylvani's assessment and if Gambrill had any other ailments she wished to address. She heard Jacob describe the direction the gladiators were taking and could hear the cry of the beasts that hunted them, suppressing her shudder. The mere sound of the beasts made her skin crawl and she crossed her arms over her chest. It was in the gladiators' hands as to their fate.
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Kelyren took a quick look over his shoulder, he froze at the sight of the device pointed at him. Yep, looks like he had been right not to trust this guy. Receive money, or be cursed - this was most certainly a trick of some sort.
Of course, there was the possibility that the wand was simply a painted stick, harmless unless jabbed into someone's eye. It was possible, but Kelyren decided that taking his chances with magical artifacts was not a good idea. Best to play along... for now. If he got out of this encounter unharmed, he was undoubtedly going to let Sylvani know about this. She'd probably know what to do about this sort of situation.
This is the last time I wander around a crowded area alone, he thought to himself. Next time I'm sticking with the others. If there is a next time for me.
"You sound extremely desperate to get all that money off your hands," he said cheerfully, forcing any signs of fear or worry out of his voice. His uncaring, casual attitude was a bluff, though. This well-dressed, smooth-talking scoundrel made him nervous, and he wasn't sure of the man's motives. There was no one else watching, and he doubted that guards would reach him if he yelled for help. However, showing fear would probably encourage the other man, and it would be like giving him a victory. "I'm flattered. I don't even know your name, and you're already trying to drown me in cash." He turned to face the man, and grinned jokingly. "My mama told me that I should never accept money from strangers."
"So," Kelyren continued. "If you'd like me to listen to your offer, tell me a bit about who you are. It's easier to do business with people I know by name, get my drift?"
He was well aware that this man could give him a fake name or a false identity, so he tried to remember as many details of the man's physical appearance as he could.
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Leilatha was grateful, the dragon decided to give the group some fighting advice. Hopefully they would be able to decipher the advice in time for it to be useful. As the massive gates were lifted, Leilatha’s spirit and hope dropped at the sight of two towering walls in front of them, it’s a maze she realized. Putting a hand over her face, Leilatha tried to remain positive, even after the ******* King’s speech announcing they would be up against three Minoutaurs. She refused to dissolve into a puddle of despair, she was part of a team and they would get through this together.
Upon the conclusion of the King’s speech, Dara took immediate command of the group ordering everyone in two lines two across. It was one less thing Leilatha needed to worry about, Dara put her in the front group. She was a good fighter and would do better given more room to swing her sword; however Leilatha was more likely to run straight into one of the beasts by being in the front. A Mintour could gore you upon his horns before you even had time to raise your weapon.
Leilatha was grateful to have Bliss at her back, though the girl often seemed too cheerful with her current predicament she was a good fighter and would be useful if Leiatha was fighting one of the creatures and then Bliss could slip in close with her daggers and finish it off. Anvain was another matter, with the dreamy expression on her face; Leilatha couldn’t help but wonder if Dara put her in the middle so the others could protect the idiot. Another possible problem was Cutlass, if he was in the back row. How in the world could he walk backwards to guard the groups rear, Leilatha reassured herself by seeing Dara would be in the back as well.
Leilatha nodded to Dara indicating she had heard, he also gave the group a good way of holding their weapons at the ready. Stretching her muscles on last time, Leilatha crouched into her fighting stance and began leading the group around the left wall, wary of everything around her, she walked halfway down the path. The Minotaur’s cries seemed louder once inside the walls.
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Before the gates opened, the giant lizard began talking about cutting an animal’s legs to slow it down and that the gladiators should lead with the left and guard with the right. Anvain was terribly confused why this terrifying creature was giving them advice when he had just killed many gladiators in the arena minutes before they entered. Perhaps it was a trick; the giant lizard could be trying to make their deaths as painful as possible.
Anvain was one of the first out of the cage, breathing erratically she was dismayed to see walls surrounding the arena. At ten feet tall, it would be easy for Anvain to scale one she had climbed trees several hundred feet tall, it was the matter of wanting to know what was over the wall. When the King appeared in the sky above, Anvain was taken aback; she had never seen magic used that way. When the King spoke of Minotaurs being in the maze with them Anvain knew that something with such a name could only be a savage dangerous beast. Suddenly a loud grating sound reached Anvain’s ears, followed by a lowing call. They sound like cows. Anvain thought to herself. Perhaps everything would be okay.
“Yes, that is my name.” She replied to Dara’s query and quickly found her spot next to the cheerful Bliss. Anvain chastised herself for not paying attention, this was life or death and she needed to be alert and ready. Dara and Cutlass being in the back of the group gave Anvain some confidence they were protected from any sneak attacks. Putting on a fake smile Anvain shakily followed Sean and Leilatha around the first bend in the maze, making sure to keep her sword tip lifted.
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Bliss walked into the maze and felt her mouth fall in open in awe. It was so big, it would take them next to forever to find what they were looking for. But with a quick speech from someone, one she wasn’t quite paying attention to because she was studying the walls and thinking of that the dragon had said. She trusted him as much as she trusted all of her other teammates, something you needed to do when you were letting them protect your life in the same favour for them. They would probably need to stick to the left side, after all, even if the kept going left, even if they hit a dead end, it would get them out eventually. So she decided to voice said thoughts. “You know guys, if we keep on going left eventually we’ll find our way out of the maze, it’s only common logic. I mean, we might not even have to fight all three if we’re lucky. And if we keep our backs to the left and face more right, nothing will be a surprise to us, no?” She asked in a voice that was way to cheery to be in a death maze.
She slipped into formation and shot Dara a small smile, she was grateful of him taking charge. They needed someone to do it and Dara was a great guy to do so. He was the person she knew the most so far, which made her rather happy. She slipped into formation and gave Anvain a huge smile, noticing how scared the girl was. She knew she was in the middle because this was a pretty bad situation for her, nothing would be good for up close fighting but her aim was still rather good and the possibility of her throwing her weapons was probably something Dara had thought of. His formation was perfect though and Bliss couldn’t really think of a better one for this type of situation, although Anvain being scared made her feel bad. She threw her arm around the girl, Bliss wasn’t one to ever consider someone’s personal space.
“So, Anvain right? That’s a pretty name, suits you.” She grinned at the girl, warming up for her ramble. She knew that scared people never gave good fighters, something that years of experience told her. It just wasn’t good, it would make them distracted and their wish to react would be incredibly lessened. “You know, this maze is pretty cool. I’ve never been in one before and I didn’t expect the bush to be so pretty. I mean, everything is pretty peaceful in here if you just took away the crowds cheering and the minotaur’s. Which, you know, will totally be gone soon enough. We’re so gonna kick their ass, I mean, look at us! We’re complete badasses, we should so be sporting shades. The minotaur’s won’t even know what will hit them, hell, they should be running away scared. I got my daggers, that’s scary in itself.” She winked at the girl and twirled her daggers around on each hand, the blade dancing around her fingers, almost as if she were trying to show the girl that she was incredibly skilled with her daggers. She wanted to comfort the girl. “So don’t worry, anyways guys. How was your sleep last night? I mean I slept pretty good although I had the weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeirdest dream. I dreamt that the king was, like, swimming in a huge tub of ice cream and pudding. And he was crying because Spotty, is pet giraffe, died, so he kept on eating the pudding and ice cream. So then Jacob came in and starting screaming at him about something I think was about training but the king just through a shoe at him. Anyways, it ended by the kind exploding because he ate too much food.” She giggled and then smiled over, thinking about her dream, following the others.
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Sylvani was either a very good mother… or a **** poor one. She watched as Erryn fed the dragon, darted around everyone and nearly went through the cage bars until the Brute grabbed onto the boy’s shirt and pulled him back with a growl, deposited him back by his mother and sat next to him. Sylvani reached down and petted the top of the dog’s head, silently thanking him for watching the dog as she listened to the others talk. At least there she was able to speak her mind plainly without worry that she’d hurt someone’s delicate feelings or just **** someone off. Instead, her hands kept wandering over Gambrill as she started to pull her magic from where she kept it locked away and allowed some of it to heat her hands. The color that her magic showed was a pale blue and would cool instead of heat as she started to direct the flow of magic towards where she felt Gambrill needed it the most, be it his mind to soothe any mental pain or to where the chains could be rubbing raw. She smiled slightly, though it quickly faded as she kept concentrating. “Kelyren needs to get his head adjusted before he’s killed and dragged off through the streets becomes he’s incompetent. Being a healer is only slightly more safe than being a gladiator, but…maybe standing out in the stands will teach him,” she said in a huff.
She watched as Pandora applied the herbs and she nodded. Time and again, the older woman was showing her aptitude for her craft, which only allowed the Aubade female to feel a bit better about trusting her with the gladiators. “At least you’re proving yourself,” she said to the woman as she moved and stepped over Gambrill’s tail, having to reposition herself and find a new spot to work as Erryn followed her. She shot a dark glare at Jacob. “Don’t you tell me that he just needs ‘time to adjust’, be careful, Jacob, you’re going to start getting the reputation of being soft and who knows, you might become Gambrill’s snack,” she said to him, knowing that trainers had to be just as hard as anyone else that made their living by the will of the King. She had interrupted Pandora to talk to Jacob and turned back to the woman with an uncharacteristic huff. “I am sorry Pandora, I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” she said as the magic kept moving from her in small amounts as she waited for Gambrill to tell her that he had enough. “If you think that you can hide the spots, I would appreciate it more than you know. It’s hard trying to convince him to keep the hood up when we’re out in public and all he wants to do is talk…” she said as Erryn proved her words true as he kept trying to get Jacob’s attention, asking to be picked up so he could see out of the hole. “Jacob,” she said, “please don’t let him watch. The last time he saw a fight, he had nightmares,” she called over. Desensitized, she truly was that. Death still hurt her, but she learned to move on. It was all that one could do. “Fine, I’ll give the boy a chance,” she said begrudgingly, “but I hold firm. He is not allowed near my son. I’ll castrate him if I find him even looking at him wrong,” she promised and her words were heavy with promise.
She worked her magic into a touch spot by one of the chains, wishing that she could corrode them and set Gambrill free, at least one of her friends would leave the arena alive by then. She’d do anything to set her friends free. “Give me a reason to smile, Gambrill,” she requested of him. “Give me a reason to dream and I can easily tell you how that would become my nightmare.”
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Being reassured that he wouldn’t be eaten by a dragon wasn’t quite enough for the centaur. The gates opened and he stepped out and onto the firm ground. He sneezed, sensing magic and looked skyward, a bit hard for him to do as he turned his head to the side to see a bit better. That wouldn’t work. He grumbled and gave up. He heard that they would be fighting minotaurs and he shrugged. Minotaurs, Centaurs… some sort of ‘taurs. While he wouldn’t be conversing over tea with those liminal creatures, he’d just move along as best as he was able. If he was stuck fighting them…well…he’d figure that out when he got there. He watched as Dara took the lead and while he looked towards the right and sneezed again, he turned to follow the path that the other set. He was nearly as bad as a unicorn, always following women. “What? No ball of twine?” he asked sarcastically. “Then again, there was no beautiful woman for Dara to seduce, promise marriage and be the cause of her eventual death or suicide. I’ve always been a bit fuzzy on my history,” he said. More and more his ire was raised and the complacent ‘horse’ that he was trained to be was fading under the true manner in which Cutlass acted.
He wheeled around before he completely entered the maze and shot a challenging glare to the crowd. “You know, this would be so much more fun if I was given back my bridle,” he taunted, not caring if anyone could hear him. He scuffed at the ground with one hoof, marking the ground before he trotted in after the rest of the team. He watched as Bliss tried to comfort Anvain, Dara moving ahead, Sean ambling along, the female-elf who he really had to learn the name of, kept walking along as well. He moved slowly, touching his hoof down carefully before he kept along. Being surrounded by walls was not his idea of a good time, and armed with worthless swords of dubious quality, probably bound to break on impact, was not helping his already sour mood. He heard a roar to his right and he sighed. Unlike humans that could look down and still walk, he was stuck always having to keep his head raised and looking ahead. He had no choice but to look fear in the eye as he moved forward.
He listened to Bliss talk about her dream, but most of it sounded like nonsense and he quickly tuned it out. He envisioned the path that they had been following and took his sword, scratched out a strange design and kept walking. Periodically, he’d stop and do that before he’d keep going. “Labyrinths aren’t traditional mazes,” he said finally. “The King can’t be that intelligent if he got the two confused. Sure, some think that mazes are the same as labyrinths, but a maze has paths and branches to take. A reflection, perhaps, of mankind’s freewill in the face of destiny. He may think that he’s choosing his path, but in fact, it all leads him to the same bitter end. He fights against it. Runs into every corner, wall, or pathway. He thinks that he’s doing something new and unique, but at the end… it’s a ****-poor copy of a life already led and at the end, the Gods still win. Now, a labyrinth isn’t a puzzle or a maze. Not if this is a traditional labyrinth. A labyrinth, no matter the twists or turns, the amount of backward circles that makes you think that you’ve been walking for miles… it all leads to one place. The center. The only way out…” he scratched out another design. “Is to make sure you don’t get eaten by whatever is inside the labyrinth.”
He paused again, something was pricking at the back of his mind. A large group was a stupid idea. It meant easy prey, getting trapped. “If a maze is humans manifestation of free will in the face of a certain end, then a labyrinth has got to be a human understanding that nothing in life matters. That every twist, turn and bend in the road will not lead to a different ending. It will do nothing but bring one to the center, to death…and the only way to escape the labyrinth is to be reborn.”
Cutlass reflected on that as he watched the others move ahead. He didn’t like where they were heading, didn’t like it at all. A maze meant one exit, possibly heavily guarded by the liminal creatures. Death at the end. A labyrinth meant death in the center. He wanted to herd the minotaurs, force them to grow tired and pick them off. He didn’t want to walk blindly into a trap. They had females in the team and he remembered the tales that his mother would tell him of their myth. There was a path that moved right. He looked towards the rest of the group, settled on the skittish woman before he turned and left them. He was worthless to them standing in the back. He could sense an attack but he couldn't back up if he had to. He was better going off alone.
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Jacob raised an eyebrow at Sylvani and met her glare "You asked my opinion and I told you he hasn't gotten a chance to show himself. If he was one of my gladiators I would make him prove himself as soon as I could by putting him up against something blood thirsty just like I did to all of my gladiators when they arrived. Don't mistake the fact that I dont tell you how to run the healers for softness on my behalf, you damn well know I would have died by now if I was soft." He said in a calm tone. "I respect and trust you enough to deal with the healers to not crack down on them to, I trust that you will know how to handle them. As for Gambrill" Jacob smiled a bit "well if he ate me then I would be damn sure to do best to give him the worst case of indigestion hes ever had" he said half jokingly. When Sylvani started talking to Pandora again Jacob looked back out the window until something started pulling at his pants leg. He looked down to see Erryn asking to see out the hole. Jacob nodded at Sylvani's order, and listened to her saying that she would give the young healer a chance and her deadly promise. Jacob nodded his head in acceptance of Sylvani's words. He knew she would come through on every word of her promise and he didn't blame her, he at one point had loved ones he would have done anything to protect to. If she did something to the young healer then he would deserve it and Jacob would not interfere. He looked down and patted Erryn on his head "Don't worry child there is nothing for you to see out there. Now run along to your mother" he whispered to the child so Sylvani would not hear "I believe she needs a hug." he said as he stood up and looked back out the hole "and a reminder of why she needs to continue on dreaming of a better future" he mumbled to himself.
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Gideon smiled his charming smile at the bold young healer "Oh you would like to know a little about me.... sure why not, I guess I should tell my business partners a bit more about myself. Now what should I tell you" He thought for a second still holding the wand a Kelyren. "Well my names Gideon, you dont really need a last name so dont worry about it. I like sweet food, and despise people who stall. You have a name and know what I look like so I believe you know more than enough about me" He said losing the grin that had so far been plastered to his face. "I am wanting you to give this to one of the gladiators after the fight is over" he said setting a small green vial next to Kelyren. The crowd started roaring for some reason or another and Gideon had to wait until the quieted down for one reason or another before he continued in a whisper loud enough to be heard only by him an the healer "It is an amazingly potent poison, you dont even have to drink it just rub a bit in one of their wounds and the poison will take care of the rest. You will be paid 1000 gold for each gladiator after their deaths are confirmed... so what do you say friend?"
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As Cutlass separated from the other gladiators a loud rumbling could be heard a split second before a large wall shot up separating him from the other gladiators. Not a second later a second wall shot up behind the other gladiators moving forward herding them along down their chosen path way with no paths to the left or right. A large pool 7x7 of some bubbling substance appeared in front of them about 40 yards down the way with a right turn 10 yards past the pool. With the speed the wall was moving they would have to either jump the pool or fall in within the next 10 seconds. On Cutlass's side of the wall there was the loud roar of a minotaur, it sounded as if it was getting closer to him though with the echo of the walls there was no sure way to know. He had the choice of taking a left turn a bit down the way or heading straight until he found a right turn about 50 yards further down.
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Dimitri laughed as the centaur broke off from the ground and then became permanently separated. This was turning out better than he had hoped... right now was just the right time to introduce his other little surprise. He stood up and tapped the arena master on the shoulder. The master turned around and stuttered a greeting "S-s-s-sir you need something?" The Dimitri smiled at him his eyes turning white "Yes I would like to speak to the crowd again" He said in an almost relaxed tone of voice. "Yes sir right away sir" the arena master said as he started waving his hands. After he was done casting his spell he looked at the king "They can hear you now sir."
"Perfect" purred the king as he stepped up to the balcony. "My subjects" his sultry voice boomed throughout the arena "I have one more surprise to give you... It is something of a last minuet gift to you that I happened to remember I had." He waved his hands to some guards down near the arena floor. They started pulling at a crank moving the large stone door to another cage. "This" the king spoke again "is a warrior who dared to try and assassinate me with a few weak solders and ragged weapons. He has been thoroughly punished, and through my grace and benevolence he has received the chance to redeem himself in the arena." The crowd cheered and praised the king for a few moments until he raised a hand to silence them "So come out my slave and redeem yourself." he boomed as the door to the cage finally opened. From his cage the gladiator would have the same choice as the others, left or right.
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At Jacob’s description of him being an overgrown cat with scales, Gambrill snorted loudly as if offended, his face contorting into some sort of a pout before he settled back down to partially focus on Sylvani’s healing touch. “Well, I do hope you’re correct and they are taking the left path. That is the way less saturated with traps; of course either path you take will lead you to the center arena which holds a nasty surprise for our friends.” Without the guards around, Gambrill could now speak freely on the matter of the match at hand. Of course there was always the chance of some unknown ear eavesdropping from somewhere and ratting him out but at the moment such a faraway threat didn’t concern him. “Two of the minotaurs will roam freely through the maze and it is as good as your guess as it is mine when, where and if they will run into them. If they survive the trials of the maze itself they will then find themselves locked in the center arena with their final opponent, this particular minotaur will have been prodded and beaten through most of the match to assure that it is in a blood rage when the gladiators reach him. A very difficult opponent.” Flexing his wings as much as the tight restraints would allow, he felt a sort of sympathy for the creatures going against his newfound friends in the pit that perhaps others wouldn’t understand. They were great beasts of the arena just as he was, only there to draw more crowds when they were thrown out to do battle again and again. Although they weren’t particularly bright creatures, one of them was at least intelligent enough to hold simple conversation and knew who to be rightfully angry with at his predicament where his brothers were merely angry with any and all who dare so crossed their line of sight. Lingering on these thoughts to long would do no good though so he brought his eyes toward Pandora when she addressed him.
Now that he took the time to take in details of the new healer he could see she was an older female, by her species standards she was older at least, but still beautiful. The fact she had offered to help keep Erryn’s identity a secret already sealed her place in his mind so her assurance that he could trust her drew a deep chuckle from his chest as his eyes only momentarily flicked from her to watch Erryn run to Jacob before coming back and resting on her once more. “Although I enjoy compliments as much as the next, you do not have to be so formal with me. We are all friends here.” As she approached with a knife to begin her work, he turned his attention once more to Jacob. “Did you hear her Jacob? I am noble and mighty, you might want to take note of that.” Smiling in his toothy way towards the man, his exchange with him kept the pain from the shifting of scales away and left Gambrill with only the feeling of the woman’s soothing touch as she massaged the salve into the sore spot. Sighing out a great gust of air he then looked towards Sylvani, his head was jerked to the side a bit by his chains as he tried to turn and fully look at her. “That is enough my dear, wouldn’t want to drain you dry before you even tend to your team.” Grinning at her, he wanted to give her a reason to be happy and to smile as she had requested but he knew that with every ray of hope he pointed out, a way that it could be manipulated, a reason to worry about it would be given right back to him to he merely kept quiet and hoped his friend would one day gain true happiness. It was one of the few thoughts that kept him in such high spirits while he himself rarely saw the light of day for he knew he would never be free so his hope stuck with his friends and the possibility that they might one day step outside this arena as free beings.
Pandora’s work was quick and efficient; she seemed to know her way around his large scaly body as if she had experience with dragons. He wondered if perhaps he wasn’t as alone in regards to his species as he thought so when she was done and had finished explaining her herbs he had to ask. “Thank you very much Pandora but might I ask if you’ve ever worked on a dragon before? I only ask because most, excluding Sylvani of course, don’t even know how to shift my scales away from a wound to treat it but you were able to do so with the flick of a knife.” His eyes were curious now as he waited for an answer, seeming to ignore the great bellows, cheers and sounds of shifting stone that emitted from the arena. He knew that Jacob would inform them of anything drastic that happened in the fight so was content to carry on conversation while everyone worried silently for their friends.
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"It's a pleasure to meet you, Gideon," Kelyren replied. "I like sweets too, but then again... who doesn't?"
He quieted at the sight of the green vial. Here it was at last... The foul play that he had heard about. He was almost certain that it was poison, and the mere thought of poisoning a wounded, defenseless man or woman made him feel sick. Even though he had not been given a choice, his job was to heal the injured, not kill them.
The roar of the crowd barely registered in his mind as he weighed the possibilities. Kelyren stared at the vial, barely managing to keep disgust out of his facial expression. He half-suspected that Gideon would attack him if he declined the offer. If he accepted it, he was pretty sure that Gideon had associates who would make sure that he carried out the task. Neither choice seemed to be favorable.
"Well, I've listened to your offer, and I've taken some time to consider it," he said mildly, choosing his words as carefully as he could. "It does sound tempting, and that's a hefty sum of money involved. However, I've made a promise to a dear friend of mine, and accepting this task from you would shatter it into a million tiny pieces. I'm sorry, but I don't think a thousand gold coins could convince me to break the promise I made to her." He bowed his head politely, though he did not break eye contact with Gideon or make any move to leave.
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The smell of death hung potently in the air of the small, caged in area that the large man had been moved to at the start of the day. The sun brought heat into the enclosure, and little ventilation allowed for the rotting smell of flesh to remain pungent in the air around him. Still, he sat on the floor, his back pressed to a wall adjacent to the one he had entered through, assuming that to remain in place so he would not fear a knife to his back. A sword had been cast into the cage with him, its edges dull in neglect and thin from mass production. The balance was off, as was the hilt damaged that it cut into the hand, but such was the lot of a captive who fought against the overlord king who ruled his lands in fear. King. Such a title was far too noble and held far too much meaning to be placed before the wretch's name, denoting him as ruler and 'protector' of the lands. This king, this Dimitri, was no protector. He was a terrorist, invoking fear to any who crossed his path simply for the joy to see them tremble beneath his might.
The proud warrior raised his head, vowing to himself to never tremble or beg in front of the vile creature that was this self-proclaimed king. He knew where he was, knew what was intended for him without the jabbing insults from the guards. They called him barbaric, another beast to have its life snuffed out in the arena, though truly, they were only half right. He was a beast, though no barbarian despite his stature. Tattoos covered most of the man's body, traveling down the left side of his torso and his thighs, continuing down his leg in its entirety. His arms also held the symbols, though it was his right shoulder that held the majority of the ink, traveling completely down to his hand. He wore the scrapped clothing that he had been allowed to keep after his beatings and whippings at the hands of the guards, only willing to try such a stunt after being drugged so as to not fight back. He would remember, each one of those men, and they would receive their retribution.
The crowd's roar reverberated within his chamber and he raised his head toward the direction of the main voice speaking. And then he came on. Hate filled eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared as he resisted the urge to stand and attempt breaking down the cage simply to interrupt the man with the silk voice and blackened heart. Some poor souls were being put against the minotaurs, getting off easy compared to those against the dragon earlier. He leaned back against the wall and resolved again to wait when suddenly, his cage was opened up and once again, the voice of temptation rose over the arena. A slave, he could not even be titled properly, he was named a slave. A snarl on his lips, he grabbed the sword, weak though it was, and stood to his full six foot, five height, striding out of the cage and into the bright area to the deafening roar of the crowd. The sun landed over his filth covered body, his shaved head, and he could almost hear the cries of a barbarian being in their midst. He bent down after shoving the blade within his best and sanded his hands, chest, back, legs, aiming to dry them in the filth so that they may clump away from him. He would need to have his hands dry if he were to be placed against minotaurs, and possibly the gladiators within.
He cast one finally look around him before facing forward, seeing the labyrinth opened before him and the crowds eager sights to see him choose a pathway. He closed his eyes, shut out the crowd around him and remained bent, listening to the earth, feeling for vibrations that were not of the magic and masses surrounding him. Minotaurs were large, but they mostly carried axes, a weapon he was most comfortable with and he resolved that he would simply have to take one from the corpse when he received the opportunity. Once his path had been chosen, the proud warrior stood again and strode confidently into the left side of the labyrinth without so much as a word, finding the walls to not be increasingly high, and formulating plans of assault and ways he could use it to his advantage. He was a learned man, an angry man, a vengeful man. And Niall MacKelter would not stop until retribution had been paid to both him and his kin.
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A smile graced over Pandora's features as she finished wiping her hands clean of any further slave, glad she was was being recognized for her abilities in her healing. She had no magic, so it fell to her knowledge to carry her and keep her from being forced into the ring herself. She understood both sides of the Keylren issue and while she agreed with allowing him this opportunity to help tend to the gladiators to prove his worth, she understood the desire to protect her offspring tooth and nail. She would keep Erryn a secret, and protect the young life as best as she was able. “I will need to spend time with him so that I may match my concealer with his skin tone,” she explained, smiling down at the small child. She bent down on one knee and reached around to remove a small flask from her bag simply filled with water and a piece from the bread she had baked that morning. “Are you still hungry, sweetie?” she asked, offering the items to the lad. Growing boys needed their food and she was looking to be sure he would have plenty.
After a moment, she stood back up and dusted her skirts off, turning once more to Gambrill with a secretive smile. “I simply speak truth, Gambrill,” she said honestly with a small laugh, stroking her hands over the scales of the mighty creature she stood beside. “The dragon I mostly tended to enjoyed having his ego inflated, especially when my healing salves and potions would sting his flesh,” she explained, no question remaining that she had in fact had experience with dragons in the past. Remembrance of the past made their way to the forefront of her mind, of a large, silver scaled body and piercing crystal blue eyes. Of a temper that was only matched when directed toward her, of a kindness she cherished, and of love she would never feel from anyone else again. She looked around to those present in the cage: Jacob, a man who worked hard for his gladiators and seemed to have the trust of those present. Sylvani, the lead healer and a good woman who divulged a huge secret to her. Erryn, a small child who seemed more interested in play than anything else. And Gambrill, the mighty dragon who seemed to only wish to know more of his kind.
“I have an extensive knowledge of dragons, Gambrill,” she said quietly, moving around toward the head of the creature and stroking the scales that ran down between his eyes to his snout, reaching back around over to his neck. “And I would like to speak with you more about it.” She bit her lip gently, worried about any ears that may be listening in to their conversation from outside the cell. She was willing to divulge her information to the dragon, and even those that were in the room, held closely in his confidence, but if any heard what she had to say from the outside, she feared about what that sort of information could do if placed in the wrong hands. Instead, she continued to stroke over his face and neck comfortingly. “How old are you? How long have you been here?” she asked instead, changing the topic to get a better understanding of the arena dragon than from what her observations could glean. He was forced into the arena and to fight, so even the scars did little than to tell the story of his battles. Still, from the look in his eye and the curious way he held himself, she could not help but think that he was a younger dragon.
Her gaze traveled to Jacob as he watched from the small window that was made in the cage. “Are there any injuries yet?” she asked, wanting to know where she needed to be and with what sort of medicinal aid the moment she was allowed to approach her gladiators.
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The draconic man had kept glancing behind them, naively blind to Cutlass’s position for the majority of that time and more focused on not being caught by surprise ironically. He listened to the centaur’s oddly existential relation of the labyrinth to life, Dara took his speaking as a sign he was still with them and didn’t bother turning around to check if it remained that way. In response he spoke without looking, “I can hardly believe this place is some sort of allegory for actual life, it’s the design of sadistic mortal man, not a god. Maybe the gods have some sort of say in our lives but I’m certain a day will come when Blackwell won’t. Life has a lot less walls than you thi- Cutlass?” It would never be known if any of his words had reached the somber centaur, for events played into motion that pitted himself and the rest of his comrades against immediate odds.
The immediate layout spontaneously changed, and a wall separated them from Cutlass. To make matters worse, a ways down appeared some sort of viscous fluid that had reeking fumes detectable from their position. In addition to this series of unfortunate events, Blackwell threw in a wild card, another gladiator whom apparently tried to end his reign. Though Dara would have given the man a medal, now wasn’t the time to be enamored. His mind processed the following; Already lost one of my men, check. Have steel wall pushing me and the rest of my team into a puddle of no doubt agonizing pain, check. Have a gladiator whom I have no idea will be on our side even if we survive the next few seconds, check. Less then five minutes into our first fight and I’ve already gotten everyone virtually screwed. How can this possibly get any-wait, no, I’m not falling for that again.
The only option was the obvious, which he relayed to his teammates, “Break formation! Make the maddest dash of your life and leap!” In more irony that was nearly the opposite of his “plan” which called for them to move relatively stealthily and slowly. So far it was a great first day in the coliseum for Dara. All he needed now was to make it across the Pool of Unpleasantness only to be impaled by a rabid unicorn. That would just about make his day.
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Anvain stiffened when she was embraced by the over eager Bliss. In forest elf society, hugging and other displays of emotion are considered things to be done in private only. Luckily for Bliss, Anvain had always been different than the other forest elves; often having outbursts at odd moments. Once she gently returned the gesture Anvain felt her spirits lift. There was at least one person on the team that did not look down upon her.
While the group carefully entered the maze Bliss began speaking of her very odd dream the previous night. Bliss used many words Anvain had never heard before, making the young elf think Bliss was mentally damaged from the many fights she had been through. As Bliss finished her story, Cutlass began to speaking. He informed the group that they were not in a maze but in a labyrinth, the distinction between the two was mostly lost on Anvain it seemed to be one more mystery of this cruel land. She sympathized with Cutlass, in this place it was a wonder the others could continue fighting day after day.
Suddenly a stone wall sprung out of the ground cutting Cutlass off from the group. Then another wall appeared and began herding the remaining gladiators into a boiling pit of acid. It seemed there was a choice of jump across or die, but Anvain’s immediate instinct was to climb the tallest tree in the vicinity till the danger passed. As there were no trees available, Anvain set her sights on the rapidly approaching wall, she took off at a full run placing one foot against the wall she grabbed the top and quickly hauled herself up.
The second wall proved to be more of a challenge, Anvain would have to jump from a standstill while she was traveling backwards on the first wall and there was the hidden sword to think of. Using every muscle to leap Anvain just barely cleared the wall and she would have been safe had Cutlass not been standing right underneath the end of her leap. Not wanting to hurt the centaur Anvain twisted in midair managing to land just to the left of him. A smile graced her face; she still had her forest skills.
When Anvain stood to address Cutlass a bolt of pain shot up her leg, causing her to groan inwardly. In this labyrinth a simple sprained ankle could be the end of a gladiator, hoping Cutlass had not noticed her wince she inquired if he had a plan for moving forward. The young elf was glad to be in the company of Cutlass and she would prove her value as a fighter to the handsome Centaur.
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Leilatha was relieved to see Bliss taking an interest in Anvain, leaving her free to focus on protecting the front. Leilatha could not shake the feeling that something would be rounding the corner ahead and attacking them. Being in the front had an advantage, but one of the drawbacks is not being able to hear the conversations going on to the rear. A few bits of Bliss’s dream reached her, only confirming her suspicion that the human was slightly mad.
Cutlass made an excellent point about a labyrinth ending in the middle with a nasty surprise waiting there. Though his tone worried Leilatha, a gladiator without hope quickly falls in battle often taking a few comrades with them. Leilatha did not have any spare hope to lend the centaur, she lived every day with the hope there would be a next sunrise for her. Leilatha’s hope for escape or freedom had long ago been snuffed out.
Suddenly Leilatha’s thoughts were torn away as a wall sliced up from the ground separating the centaur, before anyone had time to react another wall began herding the group to a boiling pit of acid. Leilatha cursed the King for making such a deadly trap, given no other options Leilatha began running towards the pit, flinging her swords ahead she pushed off and sailed over the hungry looking pit. Leilatha began rolling the moment her feet touched the other side, she scooped up her swords and turned back toward her teammates. Her mouth fell open, what in the world was Anvain thinking climbing one of the walls.
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Bliss frowned when Cutlass separated from the group, when in the hell was he thinking? Being alone in the labyrinth would kill him for sure, having a teammate by themselves wasn’t safe. Bliss sighed and then looked at Cutlass, trying to weigh the options with her mind, trying to think rationally and not just to save his life. Cutlass would have a greater chance of survival if someone followed but the person who followed would have their survival rate cut drastically. It wasn’t a good situation. She opened her mouth and got ready to do what she did best, talk him out of what he was going to do. It was a shame that she really never got the time to do so, the next second a wall cut them off. Her gaze shifted to her front, thanks to Dara's comment that snapped her back to reality. She tried putting her mind back in a neutral place, a second of thinking could be the second that killed you.
She backed up a bit, letting her body do the thinking. Time seemed to slow down as her body got used to the adrenaline rush and she could almost count every thump of her mind, if she were able to count. It was her favourite time in every battle, the time where her body seemed to fast to actually let reality catch up to her. She knew that realistically everything was still the same, but with the adrenaline rushing through her, telling her to fight, she felt invincible. It was a fine line between being too cocky and being too hyper, but the results helped her live.
She sprinted forward, leaping over the acid pit. For a moment she felt like she were flying until she looked down and that was when she panicked. The acid seemed to close to her and her nostrils filled with a rather rancid smell. She broke out into a fine sweat as she faltered, landing on the ground with a scream. She scrambled away from the acid that seemed to be killing her. She looked down, noticing a little bit too much blood along with raw skin on the center of her calf where it had fallen into the acid. She whimpered and closed her eyes, forcing back the tears that welled up from the pain.
She looked up at the others and felt stupid for being the only one who had missed the acid pool and groaned, tearing off a piece of her shirt that had covered her midrift and wrapped it around her calf, turning it into a sloppy bandage. It would stop the bleeding and prove to help out for the time being, all she would have to do is think of something other than the pain.
Bliss hoisted herself up with her arms, clamping her mouth shut so she wouldn't emit any noises and stood on her shaky leg. She frowned and looked at the others and then turned her face to the winding passages of the labyrinth that stood before them. Bliss didn't feel as lucky as she had felt before, in fact, today she felt **** out of luck.
"Let's just keep going, we'll hit the center soon enough." She said, loud enough for the other two on the other side to hear her.
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"Dammit!" Jacob yelled and turned around from the peep hole. "The gladiators have been separated,and.... we lost Sean." He said to the group in the cage. "The Centaur... Cutlass I believe separated from the group the second before a trap sprang putting two walls between him and the rest of the group. Anvain somehow managed to scale the wall and join Cutlass. After the walls separated them a pit of acid appeared that the gladiators had to jump over. Most are ok but Bliss seems to have some burns form the acid on her leg, and Sean.... he couldn't make the jump." Jacob punched the wall with a resounding crack bruising his knuckles in the process. He shook his hand and turned back to the peep hole. "Damn that ******* king for deciding to be "creative" for this fights event" Jacob said with his voice dripping sarcasm. He turned back to the peep hole only to notice the gladiators were being cornered by a minotaur and something else that stray that the king had picked up. He turned back to the healers and dragon "Dara, Bliss, and Leliatha have met the first minotaur, and Cutlass and Anvain are about the encounter that Niall fellow the king let loose... that is if he takes the right turn." Jacob shook his head in frustration. "This whole match is a damn mess". Jacob had lost gladiators before and he was used to it. More than likely he would lose this team and go on to another just like Sylvani did so often, but it still pissed Jacob off every time one of his gladiators died.
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Seans death cry could be heard behind the gladiators as the acid broke him down killing within seconds. Almost as if in response to his cry's of pain the gladiators could hear the crowd cheer in an almost lustful joy at first blood. Suddenly the crowd went silent in anticipation of something.Ahead of the group of gladiators that had just jumped the pit of acid there was a right turn for them to take. At least after they pass their next obstacle. Turning out of the right side passage was a minotaur. Its nostrils flared at the scent of blood and it roared at the gladiators as it flung its head from left to right. After looking at the gladiators for another moment it charged with its head down aiming for the obvious choice, the injured female, wanting to impale of gore her with his horns. His plan was to simply mow down the other gladiators in his way to get to her. They all looked too puny to stop him for he was a mighty warrior of his clan, and after he was finished with the wounded woman and the man he would take the female elf back with him for his own personal pleasure.
As Niall traveled down the left passage he wold be able to hear the roar of the minotaur as one found the gladiators. Down the path way there was a left and a right turn. If he listened carefully he could hear the sound of hooves down the right side passage and down the left there was silence choosing the right one could change his fate to a favorable one. With Cutlass and Anvain there was a straight passage with a right turn first and 10 yards further down the passage there was a left. If they were to listen very carefully when the crowd became silent they would hear foot steps down the right side passage.
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Gideon sighed at the healers response, he hated the difficult ones. As he flipped a lock of blonde hair out of his face he looked at the healer "Well then my friend" He said without his usual smile "I am going to need you to get up and exit the stands to your left please. I have a few associates that will educate you in proper business ethics of the arena... you know to help you understand what your passing up ." he pressed the wand tip deeper into the healers back to emphasize his point as he grabbed the vial of poison and slipped it back into his robe. "You may be surprised what money can do for you, and of course who knows. With a little incentive you may even do the job for free out of the charity of your heart." Gideon laughed at his own joke before pasting his usual suave grin on his face. "Well I believe the negotiations are done for now, lets get moving shall we?"
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Well... looks like he's a lying, two-faced, schemeing, no-good, rotten snake-in-the-grass after all, Kelyren thought grimly. Should have known he wouldn't leave me alone.
He glanced around, looking for a way out of this predicament. The spectators were caught up in the fight, and there was a good chance he wouldn't be heard if he called for help. Meeting Gideon's associates was completely out of the question. They'd probably beat him up until he caved in and accepted the deal, or kill him outright.
For a moment he considered leaping down into the arena, but he guessed that the fall would leave him an easy target for the beasts and gladiators down there. He also doubted that the fight would be stopped if he "fell" in, he would probably be added to the list of things to be slaughtered. To make matters worse, he estimated that the distance from the stands to the arena floor was enough to cause some not-so-minor injuries. If he landed wrong, it might mean breaking something important, and he wasn't going to take that chance just yet.
Maybe I can run, he decided. If I make it into a crowded area, I could probably lose myself in the stands, and he wouldn't be able to shoot his wand without running the risk of hitting a spectator. It's me he wants, not them.
Kelyren did not waste time on replying with a witty comeback or a snappy retort. He simply broke into a run, charging towards the most crowded part of the stands he could find, his heart pounding in his chest. At the first opportunity, he crouched lower, trying to dodge and weave back and forth as much as he could in case Gideon was shooting spells at his back.
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He leapt mightily across the pool of death, his breath sunken in as his mind raced absorbing all of the information his senses told him. For a small moment however it was not a pool of acid below him but a dark expanse, and around him were smoldering tapestries that gave the palace walkway an aggravated glow. For a small moment he was back there leaping across the broken walkway in their attempt to escape, for on the other side was a man who more than obviously resembled Dara’s own likeness with his hand extended to reach him. Dara’s younger arm did the same in his leap, the shout of his father ringing in his ears, “Grab me!”
His foot caught the edge of the arena floor, no longer in that crumbling walkway but back in now. Dara stumbled a bit as he rolled into the wall, but otherwise unharmed. He looked back to the pool to see who didn’t make it across yet, but to his dismay he witnessed two things that should not have happened. Anvain ignored the notion he was trying to instill within his comrades of moving together and scaled the walls without as so much as even trying to explain why! Sure, perhaps she did have a good reason for doing so, but if she could have done that the entire time you would have thought she would bothered to mention that, in addition that ability would have proven useful in surveying the enemy. The other occurrence was a tragedy, when Dara’s ears were split by a blood curdling wail of agony; he turned just in time to see the misshapen form that was once Sean’s face dissolve into nothing.
The draconic man was on his knees now still trying to comprehend what just happened. It played out in his mind over and over but the true gravity of it was simply unreachable at the moment. After a small while it was summed up into two words in his mind, I failed. He should have anticipated this, tried to prevent it, prepare for it, he failed as the leader he tried to make himself out to be and protect his comrades. They were now scattered, broken and worst of all he lost one.
He heard some whimpering behind him, and saw the Bliss was attending to an acid burn wound, another bright spot to add to their list of good fortune, now one of his remaining team members was debilitated. She urged them to continue on not even bothering to bring attention to her wound. Dara’s “plan” was to keep their numbers strong and even, but Bliss’s condition most made certainly fighting the beasts within the arena all the more difficult with out her full maneuverability. The only completely able body at his side now was Leilatha, and he knew that half the time they would be spending their energy covering Bliss when her new limitations presented themselves.
Clip-clop. Clip-clop. Clip-clop. Clip-clop.
Again a most unpleasant sound emanated from behind him, though this time he did not need to adjust his vision to know what it was as the beast announced itself in a bellow. Dara adjusted his body slowly to face it, somehow hoping that where his vision met it would not be what was the worst possible outcome of this moment, though he could not say there was much expectation in his inevitable disappointment. Its nostrils flared at them as it sized them up, Dara could see its gaze fixate on Bliss and he knew immediately what its target was, then it charged.
No, his mind proclaimed to itself in the most resound and firm tone possible. Too many things had gone wrong in his lifetime, too many times when all he could do was watch and let it happen, too many of his comrades had already been lost and he could do nothing. Not this time, this time fate would not take what was his, this time he would not let horror and loss come to pass, this time he was to look destiny in the eye and rip its ****ing throat out! He unsheathed his pitiful weapons, but that mattered not to him now, be they cheap iron or perfected steel, the draconic man roared back at minotaur and charged himself, and perhaps this was in direct contradiction to what he tried to tell Sean the previous day, but at least in honor of him he would not shy away, not when he was backed into a corner. The only way out was through that beast.
Though it wasn’t as if he thought simply coming at it would solve his problems, he knew he wouldn’t be able to fell such a massive creature with his strength, which is why his plan wasn’t to run it through, but something with a little more finesse. As soon as it was in range, Dara took a risky move and spat fire in its face, he knew however that the blast wasn’t nearly enough to kill it or even ignite the rest of it body, but in the least it would come as a complete surprise and debilitate it, just as Bliss was debilitated. Dara was still charging, but side stepped in time to avoid colliding with the creature, but not before he attempted to apply what he assumed was Gambrills advise and strike at the minotaur’s hind leg. His blade did bite into it but not deeply, only the epidermal tissue was harmed.
The minotaur was still charging at his remaining comrades, though perhaps with compromised vision, when Dara had passed him the draconic man turned heel in pursuit as soon as inertia allowed him too. It was his hope that the beast’s composure was compromised to the point to where his comrades would be able to take him on safely, “safely” being an extremely relative term at this point.
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The minotaur was somewhat surprised, but not displeased that the man dared to fight him head on. He would show this puny creature what a folly it was to challenge a minotaurs strength.The great beast waited as it gained momentum on its charge, and at the last second it lowered its head into ramming position to impale the man. Suddenly the creature only knew pain and a bright blinding light obscuring its vision. The beast continued its charge, trying to kill this man that hurt him so and faltered slightly when he felt not the satisfying sensation of impaling a man on his horns, but a painful sting on the back of his leg. This creature defies him.... how dare it hurt him so! The minotaur lifted its scorched and burned head up and picked the first target that crossed its blurry line of sight, he had lost the sight in his left eyes but he still had the right, which was the female elf. In its rage the minotaur forgot its prior plan to take the woman for his own. Now he just wanted to kill everything that may have hurt it, to destroy those that would dare fight back. The minotaur charged toward leilatha and gave a mighty leap in the air, his leg faltering slightly making him lose some speed, raising both fists high above his head planning to swing his fists down and crush the woman in a mighty blow.
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The Centaur had no intention of moving. If I stay here, barring anymore shifts to the landscape, I can either run with I see a minotaur, or I can stay here until I can figure out the correct path. All roads lead to the center… he mused. All roads lead to the center so regardless what path I take, eventually I will get there. Not that it guarantees me any sort of freedom, but the sooner this fight is over the sooner I can find something to itch the scratch between where the man meets the horse, he thought irritably. He tried flicking his coat, but while the horse part rippled and shifted, the part where the man was remained itchy.
He saw a blur of motion to his left and he darted forward before instinct faded and he was able to back up and barely managed to turn around. He saw the slender female elf, Anvain, standing. His sharp eyes, used to catching weakness, saw through her façade. He bared his teeth as he trotted back up to her. “Epona…” he said before he shook his head. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, clearly referring to her. He stayed a distance away so that he could see her properly. “This is not time to be…jumping,” he said though there was a dark humor in his voice, a touch of respect for the female elf. “Next time you feel like being a jumper, please consider dropping down, grabbing the wall with your hands to stop your sudden descent and then falling,” he said before he stopped. His head raised and his eyes narrowed as his sharp ears caught something. He sighed deeply before he lowered his head. “One has died,” he said, though he didn’t elaborate on how he knew it. The shrieks of the crowd just grew louder.
He looked at the female again and studied her hard. “When I get ready to move, I am going to run. If you cannot keep up, you’d best tell me now because I cannot look over my shoulder to see you. If you’re behind me, I’m blind in that area. My hearing is sharp but instinct tells me to run forward with my head raised so I can see best…” He quieted again as he lifted his head up. “Something’s different,” he said finally. Something….”
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Niall braced his hand against the wall and breathed out slowly. His eyes fell closed as he concentrated on trying to feel the vibrations. There was so much that the eyes missed. They concentrated only on what was right in front of them and tended to block out the other senses. His hearing, used to the wild forests of the north, was capable of hearing a fawn’s delicate hoof break a slender autumn branch or the snuffle of a boar as it dug for truffles. He was used to closing his eyes and relying on a sense that wasn’t his eyes. The broad man heard the roar of the crowd and he blocked it out. The crowd would do nothing for him expect prove to be a distraction in this game of a crazy king, where his God seemed to have forsaken him to see just what his follower could do. The roar dulled as he forced it back. He acknowledged that it was there, but he refused to allow it to drive him into a mistake. His eyes opened, determined as he stepped backwards until his back was pressed against the opposing wall. His right heel dug into the ground and he pushed off. He slammed his left foot into the wall, pushed upwards, forcing his right foot up higher as his hands grabbed for the top and pulled himself up. He braced himself on top of the labyrinth.
He stood like the proud Kings of old. The sun shone on his tattooed flesh, his shaven head was held high as he glared around those assembled. Then, the moment faded and he was back into survival mode. He crouched down and with eagle eyes, he scanned the path of the labyrinth, what he could see. The game started to be played in his head. Each twist and turn brought him to the center. The roar of the minotaurs reminded him of his opponents.
There was a crash. The foundation shook and ran up the walls. Knocked off balance, the proud slave slipped to the other side of the wall and crashed heavily. He caught a glimpse of a broad black back. “Drennin?” he gasped, recalling his mount before he fell from the other and fell for what he felt was an impossible distance for slipping off of horse. He hit the ground and in that instant, he remembered that his horse had been slaughtered the same day that he had been captured. He heard a shrill scream that was both the terror from a horse, and the anger from a man as the horse…
Not a horse… Niall thought as the creature wheeled around. Niall quickly back peddled. He had been born to a rich Laird, and the Lairds measured their worth in horses. Beyond that, Lady Yseult, the patron of Horses, had been working on his father’s estate. There was nothing that she didn’t know about horses and had been branching into helping retired centaurs before their world had been destroyed. “Whoa…whoa…” Niall said, keeping his voice low as he stood up. He had to ignore the pain in his groin as he tried to stand tall so that the Centaur could see him. “Easy…Easy…” he said. He stepped to the left, into the Centaur’s realm of sight. He knew that the creature was called a Centaur, but was anything but one. He held the creature with a healthy amount of respect. “Factultas…” he said in shock. They were rare in his country and he thought that they were extinct everywhere else. He wheezed as he leaned against the wall, as his breathe came back slowly. “What have they been feeding you?” he said. “You’re…you could… you make Drennin look like a regular Lady’s mount!”
Cutlass had the sense this time not to shy too far but kept himself between the female and the man that had fallen on him. His left front hoof kicked at the ground in agitation. Things falling on him where not improving his mood. Large, tattooed men that stank like swine and sweat only made him worse. Still, Factultas, the true name of his kind, spoken from the lips of a man that beneath the grime and sweat seemed to resemble the horse people of the north, did something to reassure the other .”Centaur,” he said finally. A name had power and he would rather not have it spread through the crowd that he was called something else that a Centaur. That there could possibly be a difference between the Centaurs of myth and what he was.
“Centaur,” Niall said before he gave a rogue grin. “Niall MacKelter,” he said. His voice holding a trace of the strong northern tone before it faded under a practiced guise.
“Cutlass,” the Centaur responded. He shifted slightly and motioned to the female to the side of him. “An Epona,” he said. Names had power, and he didn’t give them out to just anyone, especially not if the name did not belong to him. Who knew what sort of magic could be pulled for a name that was given out too often. The Superstitious mount felt that it was better to be safe than sorry.
Niall stepped to the side of the creature and ran his hands over the horse back, checking for any injury or soreness without asking for permission. A strong hand when dealing with stallions, be it the Factultas or the regular horses, was the best bet. His eyes flickered over to the small woman and he grinned again. “Hey there,” he said as one hand idly scratched at the spot on Cutlass’ back where the horse melded into the man. “You ready to move?” Niall asked her as he removed his hand. “Let’s get this fight over with before the King throws in a gorgon. Let’s fight that thing blind…”
“Don’t give him ideas,” Cutlass muttered as he braced himself. “Minotaurs are attracted to women and men. Born half man, half beast…” he paused. He was quoting what he had been taught at the hands of his first mistress. “Born of an ungodly union between man and beast, the beast could not gain substance as it should, and the man was not capable of getting substance as a man…so the liminal creature devoured man for substance,” his voice trailed off as he stepped forward. He was heading towards the center of the maze, where he hoped the rest of the team would be. He still stepped carefully, testing his weight so to not set off any pressure weighted traps and his keen hearing was constantly picking up stray sounds that he could quickly perceive as danger or not. “I always wondered why… liminal creatures would never devour the bull or the horse for substance,” he murred as the game continued on.
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Sylvani huffed quietly as Jacob reminded her that she was in charge of the healers. Inwardly, she was grateful for that because this was the first time that she was in charge of a group. She was used to healing a team by herself and not training healers beneath her. “I still would like to give him one good kick in the rump,” she grumbled, mainly to make herself feel better than for any sort of input from the rest of her friends. She bent down and picked up her child, hugging him tightly and kissing the top of his head as Pandora spoke with Gambrill, winning his good graces, though it truly wasn’t hard to get onto the dragon’s good side. She reached at to scratch at a spot behind his front leg as he continued to speak.
She listened intently to Pandora. She heard that the woman was good with dragons, seen it with Dara and was seeing it in greater force with Gambrill. All of that was accounted for and stored in the woman’s mind, to be pulled forth in case she needed to pull it out again later. She was trained to retain information while giving very little away. Of course, as she jostled Erryn and smiled gently down at him, it was a bit hard to not give away her biggest secret. With his spots, and his pale coloring, it was clear what his parentage was. “Hm…” she said to Pandora, indicating that she had heard the woman. Tomorrow evening, Gods forbid we don’t have other fight to prepare for, you can come spend the evening in my room and we shall see what we can do for him,” she said. She was tired from healing Gambrill. The Dragon’s spiritual hurts made the healer in the Aubade female ache to heal him, but she could only do things in stages. Even as Erryn nuzzled against her and gently fed her some of his magic to replenish his mother’s, it would never be enough to heal the dragon completely, and the only reason Erryn could give her some of his magic was because they were mother and son, and a mother’s magic was nearly identical to their child’s, until the child grew up and lost his/her innocence.
Sean is dead…
Jacob’s words washed over her and she gripped her child a bit too tightly, enough for him to squirm and protest until she lessened her grip. “So soon…” she said, her voice becoming cold. Inside, she was working through what could have happened in the ring. His death, a loss to the team, was something that she processed internally and did not allow to show on her face. She would mourn for the fallen gladiator and pen his name into her book. Every person on her team that had died, she kept in a book, and the book became volumes of text, all written in a strong hand. Each strike of the pen was another mark against the king.
She moved with Erryn and cleared her throat, indicating to Jacob that she wished to peer outside. If he allowed her, she would not look towards the fight. She would seek out the King, and the cold anger in her heart would boil and threaten to melt the icy mask, revealing the powerful fire within, but she stepped back before she could do that and kept holding onto her son. “Gambrill, Pandora…” she couldn’t smile, any smiling was past. “I am thankful that you are both safe and…”
Erryn squirmed from her hold finally and darted back to Pandora, holding onto her leg. He knew his mother’s shift in mood better than anyone.
Sylvani looked at her child, the reason why she fought, before she looked back to the pair. “and…I hope that this fight will soon be over so I can…” she amended quickly, “we can heal the gladiators and work past the loss of Sean.” Her back was turned to Jacob. There was nothing she could say to him that would help him, and there was nothing he could say to her that would allow her to expose the anger and pain she felt at losing another. “There is another gladiator in the field,” she said as she worked through what she could. “Pandora, if you could take charge of: Dara, Leilatha, and Cutlass… I will care for this new gladiator, Anvain and Bliss. Kelyren…” she tried to temper her voice. “Will learn at our sides until I deem him ready to heal on his own.”
Rumbling softly, he closed his eyes and enjoyed her caresses while he listened closely to her. It seemed she wanted to tell him more about his kind, at least that's what he pulled from her statment of wishing to speak with him further on her knowledge of dragons which he would be eternally grateful for. "You may come to me anytime you wish to speak Pandora." His voice grumbled out while he kept his eyes closed as she continued to pet him, only when he asked him questions about himself did he open his eyes and look to her and chuckle. "I haven't been asked that in so long, let me think for a moment. Hm, ah, three-hundred is my age I'm sure of it and as for how long I've been here it's been thiry-five years. That isn't very long at all if you consider my age." He grinned towards her and shifted his mass about to get into a more comfortable position, an action that those who knew him well would know he was gearing up to tell a story, a favorit past time of his. "You see before this, I was actually used in a war far from here and-" Stopping his sentence short at the sharp cry from the arena, Gambrill knew what had happened before Jacob had even told them.
The calls of the beasts, the cry of pain, he could pick them all out with his keen hearing and he ignored them in favor of not worrying but when the large human's death cry had hit his ears it stopped him short. It was so early in the match and they already had lost one, that is how it happened though. No matter what you think or how long your fighters should last, they were always taken too soon. Sean was now the lucky one, the others were still left with their fearsome opponents and from the sounds of it had already locked in combat with at least one of them. His eyes flicked over to Jacob as his anger boiled, not doubt blaming himself for not training the man hard enough or something equally silly as that and then his eyes trailed to Sylvani as she silently grieved the loss of yet another. Huffing a soft sigh he moved his tail and first stroked the top of Erryn's head then moved on to wrap it around Sylvani's fingers. He was aware that such touches wouldn't heal hurt instantly but when such affection was rare to you, he had come to equal soft touches as a healing factor for physical and mental wounds so it was like this everytime one was lost to them. "Sean is now free." He would gently touch and utter that phrase to her or to Jacob, although the man would pratically flail away from Gambrill the times he ever tried to comfort him in such a way.
The chains rattled as he shifted himself yet again, moving his tail away from Sylvani and waiting as Pandora and her agreed on their plans for after the match before he spoke once more. "So, before this arena, I was on the battlefield for many years. They used me for aerial attacks." From here he rattled on about that war, a distraction is what it was, mostly for Erryn who had been frightened by his mother's sudden shift in mood but for anyone else present who wished to even be half distracted from the arena for just a moment. His ears were trained on the arean though, listening for signs of what was happening and knowing that Jacob would inform them of any drastic changes.
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Gideon sighed when the young healer ran. "Why do they always run" he mumbled to himself as he leveled the wand at Kelyren. "debellate!"he yelled as the wand responded instantly to the trigger phrase shooting out a dull gray beam. The magic missed the healer by a hair, striking the man next to him making the by-standard collapse in a heap. "Dammit!" Gideon exclaimed as the man collapse and Kelyren disappeared. No one in the crowd seemed to take notice of the man collapsing. It was fairly common to have people come to the early morning matches getting completely intoxicated and passing out in the stands and most just assumed this is what happened. Gideon gave an exasperated sigh as he flipped blond locks out of his eyes and took off after the healer. He thought he had lost Kelyren until he spotted the man. He wouldn't be able to hit him with the wand without taking out a large number of spectators. His boss wanted this job to be as inconspicuous as possible so he decided to wait and bide his time following Kelyren until the proper time to strike.
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Leilatha was so engrossed in observing Anvain’s reckless behavior that she did not realize Sean missed the leap across the acid pit. Only when he began screaming did she realize what happened, her first instinct was to jump in and save him, but the sheer improbability of such a move stopped her. Instead she crossed both swords over her chest and gave the barbarian a warrior farewell. The team had just lost a brave gladiator. As Sean disappeared in the acid a loud thumping sound reached Leilatha’s ears, twirling around she caught sight of a Minotaur the beast was more fearsome looking than she could have imagined.
Drawing both swords out from her body, Leilatha prepared to advance shoulder to shoulder with Dara and Bliss. The beast seemed to have very little patience for he lowered his vicious looking horns and began to charge straight at Bliss, who seemed to have acquired a burn on her leg. Dara took the initiative by breaking from their protected triangle he seemed to be planning a full attack on the Minotaur, a death wish to be sure. Instead the draconic man breathed a jet of flame directly in the monster’s face, making him veer away; Dara also was able to get in a cut on the beast’s leg.
However now the Minotaur was enraged and injured making him an unpredictable opponent, when he turned his sights on Leilatha fear washed over her. Dara was too far away to help and Bliss was still recovering from the acid burn, Leilatha would be facing the enraged beast on her own. As the Minotaur grew closer he gave a mighty leap into the air, raising his fists his intention of crushing the elf was clear. Leilatha saw only one choice, with her back against the acid pit she could only run straight toward the Minotaur. Leilatha ran forward and at the last moment fell to her knees intending to slide underneath the Minotaur, while sliding she raised her sword and sliced at his uninjured foot. The cut felt deep to Leilatha, a small victory she rejoiced until the other hoof came arching over and slammed right into her face opening a large gash above her left eyebrow.
Leilatha came to a stop behind the Minotaur, she attempted to stand, but her head was spinning and her legs refused to cooperate. A crimson flow began cascading down from the cut blocking the sight from her left eye. Not that it mattered she was too dazed to even turn around, she hopped his speed and injured legs would make him tumble into the acid pit, or at the very least make him unbalanced and vulnerable to being critically injured by Bliss and Dara.
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Anvain looked sheepishly at Cutlass, “I didn’t want you to be alone.” She did not want the centaur to know she had given into blind panic and simply run away. Anvain also heard the dying cries of someone, but she did not want to know whose they were. When asked if she could keep up Anvain wanted to reply yes, but her fear of being left behind was greater than her pride. She still tried to keep a bit of dignity as she said, “I think it might be best if I were on your back, that way you can be watching to the front and I can watch the sides and rear.” Anvain wanted to inquire what Cutlass sensed, but her answer came in the form of a man falling onto Cutlass’s back. Barely having time to scoot out of the way, the man slid off and landed in a heap.
Anvain was grateful that the Centaur stood in front, the man seemed to have black flesh in swirling designs across his body. She recalled seeing similar markings on a band of people that had passed nearby Anvain’s forest home earlier that year. Anvain gently petted a portion of Cutlass’s tail, she had never been near a horse let alone a centaur, the texture was rather interesting.
Keeping her sword slightly raised in case the man was intending to attack them, she reluctantly moved to Cutlass’s side. Anvain nodded when Cutlass introduced her as Epona, “You may call me Anvain.” She told Niall quietly. Anvain kept her distance from the man, though it seemed they were in the same predicament, she was sure Niall would kill them both to save his own life.
Anvain did not care for Niall’s forward ways; he simply walked over to Cutlass as if he were a normal horse and began feeling the centaur’s back. She felt the man deserved to be kicked for such a gesture. When Niall turned his gaze to Anvain, she dropped her eyes in a deferring manner. If Cutlass accepted the man, so would she. It would be better if they worked together in fighting the Minotaur and later they would figure out Niall’s role in their group.
Still keeping her eyes down, she replied “Yes, I would like to leave this horrible place quickly.” Anvain clambered clumsily upon Cutlass’s back attempting to replicate the movements she had seen used by humans. Once properly seated, she listened to Cutlass share his knowledge of Minotaurs. Anvain did wonder if Minotaurs would eat elves and not just humans.
As the three began walking Anvain’s curiosity overrode her suspicion of the man and she could not help but ask him about the markings on his body. She especially wanted to know what dye he had used to make them so well defined.
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Kelyren heard the ominous thud of a body hitting the ground and cringed, almost tripping over his feet. He tried not to look over his shoulder at the poor innocent victim that could have been him, had he been a slower runner.
This guy's serious, he thought as he tried to blend into the crowded stands. He's also crazy. He must really want me.
He squeezed his way onto one of the seats, making sure that he was surrounded on every side by people, and scanned the crowds for Gideon. For a moment, Kelyren thought he had lost his attacker, but he found his hopes dashed upon seeing Gideon making his way closer.
Looks like I can't hide from this guy. Kelyren glanced around, taking note of his surroundings. There had to be something he could do... Perhaps he could flag down the guards and tip them off. Maybe he could stay where he was and stick with the crowd until after the match, and find some way to make it to the healers' quarters without being attacked.
He pretended to watch the match going on, though in reality, he was keeping a close eye on Gideon and looking out for passing guards.
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The elf was fast, to fast. The minotaur swung his fists down in a fast arc only to one again receive a deep numbing pain on the back of his leg. He his the floor with a resounding smack as his leg gave out sending him sprawling towards the acid. The beast checked its momentum at the last second preventing its fatal tumble into the deadly pit. As the minotaur recovered it turned around ready to charge again when its leg collapsed under it. The minotaurs damaged leg was useless as was its left eye. It would not be able to charge, barley even being able to walk, but it would try and crush any that came near it, wildly swinging its fists and doing its best to grab any and strangle the life out of this, with its great strength. Its greatest weapon was gone but the arms of a minotaur are far from weak.
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As Blackwell watched the fight his eyes grew from their happy white to a dark and foreboding black. They gladiators were disrespecting his labyrinth... it was insulting to see them just hop over the walls of his great construct; this would just not do. The king leaned to his left where one of his magician guards stood "Do something to prevent those slaves from ruining the game by jumping over my walls, and I want it done now. The magician looked at his king with dead grey eyes and nodded. They had been trained from birth to serve the king and all disobedience or thoughts of their own lively hood had been washed away. They were the perfect servants, and the perfect mages. The battle mage started a chant under his breath in a soft soothing tone of voice almost as if singing. After a few moments of this musical spell casting the mage hit a crescendo and quieted waving a hand towards the arena. Seconds later a fine mist began shimmering above the labyrinth. "The deed is done sir, they cannot pass above the top of the labyrinth wall." The kings eyes shifted to gray as he sat back in his chair "Good now they can get the full experience of my creation."
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The healer stopped and started to watch the game. "He must have seen me by now... what is he playing at" mumbled Gideon. The master wanted the gladiators on this healers team dead for some unknown reason and Gideon being the humble servant that he was did not complain when he was sent on such a lowly mission as this, but the master was extremely persistent on the fact that the gladiators must die so the assassin decided to give it one more try. He stashed his wand inside his shirt and held his hands up in the universal sign that he was unarmed. As he neared he started talking rapidly so as to get his message across before the healer ran again. "Ok you don't want money.... thats fine so how about I offer you something else. My master he is an extremely powerful man and he has accesses to some of the strongest mages ever born. Some say that magic can do anything, even raise the dead. From the sounds of it you lost someone dear to you in the past and most likely you miss them something fierce. So... Here is my final offer" Gideon slowed his speech down and spoke so that the healer heard all of his words "What if I for your payment we bring those loved ones back from the dead.... you said money cant bring the dead back, well I am willing to disagree. So do we have a deal?" Gideon stuck his hand out. He had palmed the poison vial in it so if the Kelyren decided to take the job he could take the vial without anyone noticing. "Last chance for a once in a lifetime deal"
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Cutlass, Niall, Anvain
The group could hear a slight rumbling to their left and their right as dust sprinkled over them a second before the walls started closing. They would need to move fast to avoid getting crushed between the two massive wall. As the walls start closing in on them the nearest passage to the left became shut off. They would have to take the right path 50 yards down in 7 seconds.
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Jacob raised an eyebrow and move to the side as Sylvani requested to see out of the peep hole. He realized that it wasn't a good idea to let her see the king but he would not deny the woman. There was a tense second as her hatred started showing on her face before her cold mask was set into place again and she turn away. The trainer nodded his approval and turned around to watch out the hole mulling over what he would do to the gladiators to keep something like Sean's death from happening again. He knew that there was barley any time to train these gladiators before their first fight but he still felt partially responsible for their deaths when they finally expired in the ring. His job was to make them as ready as they could be to fight and win, and today he didn't do his job no matter how limited his time was. Now was not the time to be retrospective though. He had to watch the rest of this fight so he could evaluate all the gladiators individual skills. He would put them through hell if they lived through this fight, and he would mold them into the perfect fighters. Jacob listened as the dragon tried his best to sooth Sylvani and started telling stories of his past. Jacob would never admit it but if anything the dragon was a good story teller and the trainer always enjoyed listening to its tales.
After a few moments of watching the gladiators fight the minotaur the giant bubble in the sky switched to a view of Cutlass, Anvain and the new gladiator. Jacob turned his head "The new gladiator seems to be friendly enough, at least he hasn't attacked Cutlass and our little forest elf." As he turned his view back to the peep hole his eyes widened for a second in surprise. "Another trap has been sprung! the walls are closing in on Cutlass and the rest. They need to move fast to make it out of there." He returned his view to the peephole once again and grit his teeth in anticipation as he watched. He didn't need any more of the gladiators to die, the more that died the harder the next fight was for the rest of the team. "Move dammit!" he mumbled as if the gladiators could hear him.
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The Centaur was strangely touched when Anvain said that she didn’t want him to be alone. He couldn’t figure out if she meant it or not, but the sentiment, the words… meant quite a bit of him. “I will do my best to keep you safe,” he said finally. He took his words seriously as he looked back up the walls. He shook his head before he looked back to her. He heard her offer to ride on his back and he stiffened a bit, but he knew that he could move faster if she did. “Yes, that would be best,” he said with a sigh as he tried to hold himself still.
Of course, Niall’s arrival stifled her immediate mount. He looked skywards, wondering of the Patron or the Goddess was looking down on him. It was no secret that he hated having people on his back. It was a bit demeaning for him, especially since he was a liminal creature. Thought it was difficult for him to figure out Anvain’s voice tones, he just had to trust that she didn’t mean to insult him and would still treat him kindly, as she had been.
Cutlass shifted when Niall’s hand went to the small of his back and there was a slight look of pleasure on the centaur’s face when that damnable itch was finally scratched. He saw that Anvain looked a bit apprehensive of the new person, but the way he figured it, if Niall knew where to itch… he was fine in Cutlass’ book. He looked down the path and tried to figure out what he should do. “We need to move with the rest of the group,” he said finally. “We’d be stronger in numbers,” he did admit though he’d rather just be out of the claustrophobic place completely. He saw the mist settle and he sneezed as the magic settled. “Fun,” he said with a sigh. He held still for Anvain as she clumsy got onto his back. “It would be best if you held on around my wais---“
He was cut off as the walls started to move and for once his instinct would prove true. Without looking to Niall, the Northern Slave leapt onto his back, held onto Anvain and steadied himself as Cutlass bolted forward. He surged down the open path and felt the wall close on the end of his tail. He pulled free and gave a pained noise. He needed his tail and now it was shredded and missing quite a few of the hairs, still he kept running. He only slowed down when safety tempted over instinct, he went to a trot. He wasn’t breathing hard as Niall slipped from his back and patted his side. He was just embarrassed now that his tail was hanging limp and thinned out.
“I will lead now,” Niall said, his thick brogue was easy to the Centaur’s ear. He stepped slightly in front of Cutlass and to the left of him. “Anvain,” he said, looking towards the elf, “if you would watch Cutlass’ back for him. Cutlass, I need you to stay focused and warn us if you sense anything wrong,” Niall dictated. He was trying to figure out how to play to everyone’s strength. “Now, let’s get out of here…”
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Sylvani looked out of the peephole and studied the king. “He’s a spoiled brat,” she grunted as she turned away and went back to Gambrill. She sat down against him and leaned against his side. She used his warmth to temper her coldness. Still, her words were very short and cold as she talked mostly to herself. “Ugh. Every time that he snaps his fingers, someone is there to kiss his ring or flatter him. I’d like to see one person tell him that he is a self-serving, pompous arrogant…” she bit down on her tongue so that she didn’t keep talking. “He has so much blood on his hands. I hope his gods destroy him when he finally dies,” she said.
Erryn listened to his mother as she spoke and he kept holding onto Pandora. He crept back up to Gambrill and petted at the dragon’s leg, not able to reach too terribly high. As the dragon kept speaking, he listened but his eyes were focused on the other two adults. He moved away from the dragon again as he wandered up to Jacob and reached up, taking the man’s hand. He stayed there, still watching the others as he sought to comfort the ones around him. He slowly started to feed warmth from his hand into Jacob’s body. He was a white magic user, like his mother, like most children with magic were born to be. He tried to find Jacob’s hurts so that he could soothe them, not understanding that grief was a hard pain to heal.
Sylvani saw the worry on her son’s face before she opened her arms back to him and whispered her apology. He came to her, after looking up at Jacob for a moment before he returned to her and curled up in her lap. “Jacob,” she said, looking up and confused. “Is there any sign of Kelyren? He’s keeping out of trouble, I hope.”
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Kelyren forced himself to keep a straight face as he heard Gideon babbling to him. How many times do I have to tell this guy to **** off?! he thought angrily, about to give the man a piece of his mind - until he heard the bit about raising the dead.
He paused, considering the offer, old memories of his twin sister resurfacing to the front of his thoughts. He remembered the last time they had spoken, the argument and the silence between them that had resulted. He remembered watching her enter the arena, the battle between her and the monster twice her size, the blow that had fatally injured her, his struggle to heal her with skills that were too weak to do anything, holding her hand and promising her that everything will be alright as she died.
If I accept his offer, I won't have to be alone any more, he realized. I'll have my sister back... she'll be alive again. And Gideon will give me money. I can buy freedom for us, and we can leave this accursed arena for good.
"Alright," he said hesitantly, his voice catching in his throat. "I'll do it."
Kelyren paused, his mouth suddenly feeling very dry. The suspicion that the offer was a trap still nagged at him, and he would not ignore it so quickly - what if he carried out the orders, only to have Gideon withhold the reward for him? "But you have to bring my twin sister back first. I'm not going to do it until I see her alive and talk to her."
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Most people may have been unnerved by the trap being sprung, about nearly being crushed between two walls, but not Niall. The feel of adrenaline pumping through his veins was a sweet nectar that the proud warrior relished, and escaping the trap felt like a true accomplishment for him, despite the fact that Cutlass was the one who had done all the work. Cutlass, a being he did not think he would ever see being placed in the arena for his kind was better suited for the races or bred for attraction. Of course, this creature was far larger than any he had seen and could only respect him as the warrior he would be in the arena. As he took point at the front of their group, being sure to remain in Cutlass' line of sight to avoid putting him on edge, he thought of the small elf that was with the group.
She was a small thing, truly small, in fact, that was the only real observation he had made of her when he had first seen her. Small. And yet, she was set to the arena as a gladiator. He was hoping this small package packed a large punch, for she seemed intent on remaining on the centaur's back, whether for strategy, injury, or simple fun, he could not begin to fathom. “Well, wee Anvain, we will have plenty of time to discuss myself once we get out of here,” he said, not turning his gaze from the front, being the eyes for the creature behind him. He tried to keep his brogue as well masked as possible, knowing how difficult it was to understand his words. A chill ran down his back and a glistening shown overhead allowed the gladiator to make the assumption that magic was being put to use. Though he could not determine the sort of magic, he was sure it could only be used for ill.
He continued on down the path until they had gotten to another fork and he paused, recalling his sight from on top of the wall and the proper direction to take. “Left. We shall arrive at the center sooner. Anvain, keep your eyes sharp. Cutlass, we need your instinct,” he reminded, the weak sword held before him as he ventured down. His eyes remained on the path and the walls ahead of him. He would be more than happy to discuss with his new teammates about himself, hear their stories, what have you. But as it were, they had to survive, and idle chit-chat would do no good. He recalled the bellow of pain from a beast elsewhere in the labyrinth, and could only assume that the first group had encountered one of the monstrous beasts they were to face down. “There must be at least one other for us to face. They will be top-heavy. Take out the legs, mind the horns, and try not to make eye contact,” he informed, moving forward in preparation to launch into an attack the moment the opportunity presented itself. He knew that if he could trip the great beast up, the Cutlass could succeed in trampling it, or in the least, vaulting himself over it with the right direction. Anvain was a mystery to him. He knew little of what good an elf could do first hand and could only speculate on the stories he had heard of their kind and their capabilities.
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Leilatha had done it! Sort of, the minotaur’s greatest asset, his ability to charge was gone; the old dragon wasn’t just babbling irrelevant things after all. However the nasty thing was still flailing violently, its last stand against an unprecedented enemy. Dara scowled deeply at the humanoid beast, he saw as it the true form of the king, a personification that the man hid behind a pleasant face and charisma. For a small moment the draconic man tried studying the manner of the minotaur’s “defense”. He didn’t want to risk striking at his arms with his flimsy swords, yes it would most certainly wound it but Dara had no idea if his weapons would break in the process, death tools he would need later on. He decided on attempting to thrust into the beast, timing the swings just right avoiding the mighty arms.
Foolishly Dara thrusted at it with his left only to have his arm captured in a vice-grip by the minotaur. The gladiator attempted to break free and found that the oils Pandora gave him were making it easier to slowly slip out of the grip, but the minotaur quickly compensated, the increased force earning an audible grimace from Dara. It bellowed in his face, and raised its free fist high to deliver an at minimally concussive blow, however the beast forgot it wasn’t the only one with a free hand. The pitiful blade in Dara’s right hand proved its worth as it sang through the beats flesh, the fist it had raised turned into an open palm. Its eyes bulged from shock, and the grip around the draconic gladiator significantly was reduced, enough for Dara to slip away easily.
But he wasn’t finished, oh no, his mind flashed images of event both recents and otherwise, mostly on the image of Sean. How he died in a fashion that did not befit him in any justification, how he knew the man that would have much more preferred to be felled by this thing in front of him then by a sadistic trick, a cowardly trap made only to facilitate cheap entertainment for the indulgent and the weak of mind. A rage boiled over Dara that was familiar but until now had no proper outlet.
Now he found one.
He bellowed back at the beast and assaulted it with repeated brutal stabbings to its abdomen in his murderous rage, not bothering to count how many times his weapons ripped through another piece of the minotaur. The beast made shallower and shallower grunts and groans from each strike, and when Dara finished, his left blade still impaling its gut, crimson liquid was dribbling from its mouth and nostrils. The draconic man stared into its deadened black eyes and had a hard time telling weather it was still alive or not, not that it mattered, for the gladiator’s face formed into menacing grimace as his right raised its blade to the sky. It came down and flew through the flesh of the minotaur’s neck, the head falling backwards into the acid, a plop then sizzling could be heard as a decent amount of crimson spurted into the air for a few seconds. Maintaining the scowl on his face Dara then raised his foot in position to the midsection of the decapitated beast, his left sword still impaled in it.
In one swift, merciless motion the draconic gladiator thrusted his foot onto the body, propelling it off of his stained sword and into the pit of unpleasantness, dissolving into the nothing it deserved in his opinion. He uttered, “Good ****ing riddance.”
The adrenaline finally started to die down as his senses returned out of their heightened state, at least for the moment. Dara stared at the pit a somber expression now replacing the scowl that was on his face. It did feel good to rip the beast apart but…Sean was still dead. You could tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that the real one to blame was the king and that there really wasn’t anything he could have done, and he did blame the king however the weight of responsibility was still put on his shoulders. By assuming a position of command it is essentially a promise that he was the best suited to guide them out of this nightmare, to protect them from the unforeseen and lead them to a better life, the life promised to his family upon realease. True, he could never guarantee that they would all make it or that he himself would, but what would they think of him now that their strongest member was gone, and he could do nothing to stop it? How could they trust themselves to him when he was just as frail, just as unsure and vulnerable as they were? What reason did they really have to put faith in him and what right did he really have to tell them what was best for them?
Because no one else can, he thought. None of them were leaders; none of them had seen a leader, someone to assure them they could pull through, someone who could bring them through the loss and pain, someone who had seen what a real leader could do first hand…He may not a perfect one, and in truth perhaps there was someone out there who could do a phenomenally better job than him, but he would be that person for them or die trying…which was likely.
Dara uttered to the wind, “Vinult thurirl, dout dastudr jahus kashora.” Hail friend, your strength was appreciated. Strange, to think that beyond being a prisoner for blood-sport his only connection to the barbarian was a language that he often took for granted. He learned from his father many things, how to fight, his moral compass, but his heritage was something he neglected interest in, whenever his father attempted to tell him stories about his ancestors he shut it out, feeling the past had nothing to do with him. Yet there they were, two strangers from vastly different cultures, yet united by some sort of merger of them sometime in history. Darastrix Dastudr made a mental note to inquire Pandora what she knew of dragons and draconics, perhaps in some way he would gain something he had pushed away, a part of himself he never tried to get to know well enough. A regret he would make right.
Sheathing his stained blades he turned his attention back to the remaining comrades with him, Bliss seemed to be holding up well enough, he and Leilatha had made sure the minotaur didn’t go anywhere near her vicinity. It was then his attention became suddenly focused on the elf woman, she seemed to be in a dazed state and had blood dripping from her above her eye. The gash didn’t look too severe but what concerned him more was the possibility of internal injury, mentally kicking himself for not coming to her aid sooner. He had seen the minotaur go over her and the injury she received, but at the time he was more focused on destroying the enemy then on his own teammates’ welfare. Dara grasped Leilatha by the arm bringing her up to his level and asked, “You ok? Nothing shaking loose I hope. I…kinda need everyone in as many whole pieces as they can be right now.”
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Her luck hadn’t felt her luck go downhill that badly in such a long time, because before her brain could even process the pain that her calf kept on giving off, the minotaur soon arriving. She wanted to cuss but didn’t dare as she felt its dangerous gaze land on her. In that one second a thousand thoughts passed through her mind, some of them had been memories of when she had been younger, others had been thoughts of her killing others, desperate for survival and the consistent buzz of her father screaming at her. He had trained her well and much like everything he had bothered to do for her, he had done it well. He had briefed over minotaurs for a small period of time and Bliss could hear his words screaming in her ear, not that she could barely even register it. His breath reverberated around her and for one small second, the wound on her leg was forgotten, all of her focus was on the obscenely large creature.
And then, it charged. Bliss wanted to scream but it suddenly got stuck in her throat. Her muscles locked up in ways that she would hate herself about later, if she actually happened to get a later. But she wasn’t as stupid, nor nervous, to not be able to brace herself with her daggers, it wouldn’t stop the thing but perhaps she would delay it. If anything, she would injure it to make it easier for her teammates to bring down in the case that the minotaur would get its wish and she got impaled. But, fortunately for her, Dara saved her sorry ass. He jumped out in front of her, and for one second she saw a fire in his eye, one that looked incredibly mad, like he was fed up of it all. She smiled, not that anyone would ever see it, perhaps not even the audience, and he breathed his fire. She still remained incredibly impressed about that and now she was even more, now that it had actually managed to save her. She sighed and watched as Dara blurred to the back of its legs, slicing it’s Achilles tendon. She took no more hesitation and tried to hop out of the way, grimacing as her calf had to take her weight. She looked down and noticed the neatly cauterized wounds start to bleed through the bandage. With a grunt she hoisted herself up, favoring the other leg, a thought in the back of her mind hoping that the healers would actually be able to heal her.
Bliss thoughts turned as she heard some more fighting and she turned, Leilatha now being the one to fight the minotaur, sliding gracefully under the minotaur, something she hadn’t even thought possible. Apparently Leilatha had quite a bit more up her sleeve than she had let on, much like most of them. But the elf was smart, something Bliss was glad to have in the team. She then proceeded to cut the beasts foot, they were kicking the things ass. She shuddered and tried to move, perhaps to go help the minotaur out but found out that she really wasn’t able to put any pressure on her leg. She shut her mouth tight, not wanting to cry out and let her teammates know that she was that badly injured, she didn’t want to avert their attention. Bliss turned around and undid the bandage, tears brimming in her eyes as it took pressure off the wound. She wasn’t able to see much except that the wound looked substantially larger than it was before. She watched as her skin sizzled around it and continued to eat into her calf and the thought struck into her mind, the acid was still eating around her calf. She cussed, she really needed to get out of their as soon as possible to get it healed and for the acid to stop eating around it.
She noticed that Leilatha had obtained wounds too and Bliss winced as she saw the blood flow down the girls face, hoping that it wouldn’t scar for her. But she tried to block the blood out as it was starting to make her dizzy, in fact, she hadn’t even noticed Dara rid of the minotaur himself, she was feeling strangely light headed and odd, almost giddy. She giggled for a second before she turned over to look at Dara and Leilatha, who had now grouped together for some reason, Bliss was way too uncertain about that right now.
“You guys make a greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeat couple.” She slurred, the blood loss making her stupid and unforcused, her gaze landing on the two of them. She started to fumble around with the makeshift, blood filled bandage once more, trying to tie it back up with her spotted gaze. “Like seriously . . . you guys needa make babies, lots of them.” She giggled at her own thoughts of the two of them having children before she leaned to the side, trying to bring herself up but instead failing. She cussed some pretty colorful words before retrying once more, the attempt successful this time around. She balanced on her good leg and the only right part of her mind at the moment told her that she needed to lean onto something if she needed to walk, perhaps a branch.
Dara's team has the choice of traveling to the right. After taking the right path they would come upon a large carved door with the resemblance of a winged angel carved into it. After a few seconds the angelic carving on the door begins to speak to the gladiators. "Ye who seek to pass by me state your true name" The carving on the door somehow managed the act of cocking its head in examination of the three gladiators while they answered his request. "If you have answered me truthfully brave warriors then answer me this riddle and pass you have one try each... I was born naked twice. In bondage once and as a god the second. I need not a family because I am above such things. In my eyes I have the cleansing color of white. Who am I?
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The Assassin gave his most charming smile to Kelyren. Their is always a catch, this boss will be hard to convince of this one he thought as he grinned. "Do not worry my friend, all will be taken care of." The blonde flipped the hair out of his eyes and cocked his head at the healer in thought. "I will have to speak to my boss but I am sure that all will be taken care of. Shall we shake on it?" Gideon put his hand out. "I always like to end my business transactions with a friendly hand shake" He said with a purr in his voice. whether or not the man shook his hand Gideon had to leave fast. The boss had him on a tight time schedule and he didn't like to be kept waiting. Luckily if anything Gideon was fast and knew his way around a crowd.
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Dimitri leaned forward putting his chin on his palm as he watched the gladiators finish off the first minotaur his anger subsiding and his eyes changing from black to white with his mood. "They can fight fairly well" he mumbled to himself deep in thought. He held this thoughtful position as the centaur, barbarian, and elf narrowly avoided being crushed by his trapped walls. "Fast too, but how well can you brutes think" he spoke to the gladiators in his silky voice as though they could hear him. "Can you solve my ingenious riddle... or will your fragile mortal life be extinguished like a candle flame between my fingers". The king leaned back into his chair comfortably as though he had answered the questions he had pondered "Survive and serve my purpose gladiators, survive and be rewarded by serving me." Blackwell grinned at his own personal joke as he waited to see what the gladiators would do.
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The trainer looked down at Erryn with confusion as he felt a tingle throughout his body feeling his bruised knuckle heal. The child seemed to be trying to heal him though he had no injuries to fix. Jacob cocked his head at the child before recognition dawned on him as to what Erryn was trying to do. He was worried about Jacob and was trying to make him feel better. The old trainer felt a bit of sorrow that this child had to grow up in such a horrible world. He squashed the emotion down though and patted Erryn on the head before he ran back to his mother. "you have a good child, I believe he will be a man of great integrity when he grows up" Jacob said as he looked back out the peep hole. "Daras group finished off the minotaur and are stopped at some door... they see to be speaking to it. The same for Cutlass's group, they avoided another trap and are also speaking to a door." He turned at Sylvani's question after giving everyone an update about the gladiators. Jacobs eyes lit up as he remembered what he had forgotten before the fight "Dammit! Sylvani listen carefully. This morning I was late for the fight because I was called to a meeting by one of the kings high advisers, at least he was an adviser until a few days ago. His name is Dukove Valance, He had been insulted and dismissed by the king for some disagreement they had dealing with my gladiatorial team. Why the king is taking a personal interest in my team I don't know but because of the argument Dukove feels insulted and wants to get back at the king. In my meeting with his servant he tried to convince me to somehow sabotage my gladiators so they would die in the next fight, but I denied his servant and insulted his master. The servant said something that make me worry that he will try and turn one of your healers against the gladiators." Jacob paused to collect his thoughts and continued "We need to get to Kelyren now before one of his men get to him. I don't know the boys moral compass very well but Dukove can promise much to those willing to listen making it hard to deny him. In all the commotion of the fight I had forgotten about the meeting completely." The trainer was angry at himself for forgetting something so important. Jacob was a proud man who rarely apologized for what he did but this was a major mistake on his part "Forgive me for putting your healers at risk, we need to move now to ensure his safety." Jacob started heading towards the door not waiting for other to follow.
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Anvain had been extremely excited to sit upon the centaur’s back; she admired the view and wished she would never have to get off. She leaned forward to thank Cutlass for his generous offer, when suddenly the walls on either side of the trio began to approach. They would be crushed! Niall did not hesitate to jump up with Anvain, he held her tightly about the waist as Cutlass unleashed a blast of speed. They made it through, barely, but there was a casualty of the desperate sprint, the Centaur’s lovely flowing tail had been shredded as the walls slammed together.
Niall nimbly dismounted and looked back at Cutlass and Anvain, she nodded in agreement discussions of their past were better done once they were outside of this death trap. Sensing the man was giving her an appraising look; she lifted her chin and pretended she was not frightened out of her mind by this entire ordeal. Turning around as far as she dared, Anvain watched the Centaur’s back it was the least she could do for him. She kept her flimsy blade away from Cutlass, fearing she might cut him on accident. Anvain decided if they encountered a Minotaur she would fight from the ground.
The trio did not have to wait long to encounter another obstacle, a giant door carved in the center a hideous creature stood leering at the gladiators in malicious glee. Anvain was more shocked when the door began to speak; it gave the gladiators a riddle. The elf began to sweat in fear, she had been in this strange land for less than a day and had not the faintest idea what the riddle was asking. She looked to Cutlass and Niall, hoping they might be able to determine the solution.
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As blood began to completely obscure Leilatha’s vision she fought to remain upright and awake. Her head was throbbing and her limbs felt weak, she faintly realized Dara was the only one fighting the Minotaur. Bliss had taken to limping around and had even frozen when the beast turned toward her, Leilatha would have attacked Bliss, cowardice one thing unforgiveable in Leiatha’s mind. But she seemed to be set in marble, unable to move or even utter a word.
Some unclouded part of Leilatha’s mind heard the Minotaur’s death howl and she managed a small smile of victory, he had done it. Dara was a true warrior; he had protected his team and killed the monster. He had earned the tough elf woman’s respect. Suddenly she felt a strong hand on her arm lifting her up on wobbly legs, as Dara’s face came into view filled with concern; Leilatha tried to give him a reassuring look. But it was more likely she appeared pale and unfocused to the draconic man. “We need to keep moving, some of us aren’t in the best condition.” She said, as her eyes slid over to the crouching form of Bliss.
Clumsily she shoved one of her swords in her belt, it had suddenly become very heavy in her left hand seeming to gain weight with every step she took. Placing her sword tip in the ground with each step helped her keep balanced, moving slowly but surely the haggard team reached a massive door. Leilatha stared grimly at the Angel carving, the irony was not lost on the dazed elf. When the Angel began to speak, Leilatha assumed she was hallucinating. The carving asked for their names and the answer to a riddle. Thinking the best way to get out of the hallucination was to play along, Leilatha blurted out the first thing that came to her mind, “My name is Leilatha Esta Nym and it is King Blackwell that you speak of.” She wiped at her head again, some of the previous blood had dried but more continued to drip down. At least the bleeding had slowed.
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Kelyren did not return the smile, he was starting to feel a slow, burning hatred for Gideon. He wanted nothing more than to punch the man's smile off his face. The only thing stopping him from acting on his impulses was the knowledge that the guards would be on him in a flash if he attacked Gideon. You changed your disposition pretty damn fast, he thought furiously, clenching his hands into fists. One moment you're trying to kill me, then you're a smiling, smooth-talking slimeball.
"I'm not going to shake on anything," Kelyren stated flatly, starting to feel suspicious of the other man once more. "Not until I see my sister in front of me, alive."
If those mages could bring her back. Kelyren did not believe that resurrection was possible, especially when the one being resurrected had been dead for months. He was beginning to regret jumping at Gideon's offer so quickly, wishing that he had spent a bit more time thinking about what the other man was saying.
"Go run home and talk to your boss," he growled, cursing his hastiness and lack of judgement. "And remember. Give me my sister first - alive - and then I'll uphold my end of the bargain."
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The stone angel gave a delighted smile at Leilatha and bowed as a small doorway appeared inside the larger stone door "You and your friends may pass with the kings blessing gladiators". Inside the door way was the center of the maze. Around 1500 square feet with a minotaur standing in the center of the room wielding a great axe. A roar could be heard from the background as suddenly a second minotaur charged in busting through a door on the far side of the room. The minotaur was far larger that its companion and wore a mail plate on its chest. With a mid sized battle axe in each hand it was a formidable foe.
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Gideon held up his hand in an apologetic manner "Ok ok I will go to my master and bring word of our deal as soon as I can. Now my dear healer, I must bid you adieu". The blonde assassin bowed to the healer before stepping into the crowd and disappearing. Dammit though Gideon as he navigated through the crowd. The master would not like having conditions put upon him but of course it would be the most efficient way to dispose of the gladiators besides outright having them murdered. Being one to prefer a quick easy assassin mused over the idea of taking out the gladiators himself before dismissing the idea. There was just to many of them, and the master seemed to have a personal vendetta for some reason so it was best to follow his wishes. Gideon shrugged and flipped the blonde hair out of his eyes before leaving the coliseum. It seemed that he had his work cut out for him.
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An eyebrow was raised by Dara when Bliss began slurring comments concerning him and his elven comrade, rather confused as to where she got off making nonsense of them having children together. Not that Leilatha was unattractive, it was simply a thought that had never crossed his mind and never would have if it hadn’t been for his other companion’s words. It did immediately become obvious, however, that the injury she received from the acid was more extensive than he first observed, confirmed in the vocal observation by the comrade he was currently holding steady. Leilatha seemed to put on a brave face and righted herself, showing she no longer needed the draconic gladiator’s support.
Bliss on the other hand still looked to be in a fog and was barely able to keep herself balanced, so wasting no time Dara took her arm and wrapped it around his neck, serving as a human crutch for the time being. “Just hold onto me, this’ll be over soon,” he said. Dara wished he had any sort of medical practice beyond bandaging but sadly he didn’t, and that was a task already performed by Bliss, so he could do nothing for her.
He then reevaluated the situation in order to execute the best available option. So far there has been one confirmed death on his team, and a power player at that. Two other members were either separated or AWOL, and the remaining two in his sight had earned debilitations from the last few minutes, making himself the only overall healthy team member he could account for. There were two more minotaurs on the loose within the labyrinth, and although the one they encountered bore no armaments there was no guarantee the others wouldn’t.
Their best bet now was to regroup with Anvain and Cutlass, though Dara had to consider the possibility that by now one or both of them were dead, in which case the remaining haggard three were truly on there own. Dara also couldn’t forget the wild card gladiator thrown into pot, although it was stated that he made an attempt on the king’s life there was no guarantee that the man would be on his team’s side. For all he knew the man was even more savage the Sean was and only got a lucky shot at the sadistic monarch, but the draconic man did hope for the best, thinking that either the gladiator had dispatched one or both of their opponents (unlikely) or would side with his team or even both scenarios.
Based on their streak of luck however, Dara was not one to put much stock into that outcome.
The gladiator and his remaining team made their way through more of the labyrinth, the path halted by a strange door with intricate carvings of an angelic figure. It spoke! It asked for their names and the answer to a riddle that it promptly gave them. Dara didn’t like the sound of it, he was no dummy but he wasn’t the best puzzle solver in the world, luckily Leilatha had solved it with ease. Good to see we have people who are good for more than just fighting, he smiled at his thoughts.
But of course the universe had seen fit that no amount of happiness he received no matter how minute and minuscule would last for more than two seconds.
The door permitted their passing, leading them to what Dara would realize as the center of the dreadful maze. His heart sank as he saw an armed minotaur standing at attention within its epicenter, and no sooner had he spotted it, ANOTHER ONE came literally crashing into the playing field, and was even more heavily armed, more vicious looking, and if possible even more huge than its comrade. In summarization Dara promptly audibly cursed, “****. My. Life.” The greatest scowl anyone on his team had ever seen was so plainly visible that Dara could bet that Blackwell himself in his VIP box could see it without the use of magic images.
He let go of Bliss, hoping she had recovered enough to at least stand on her own, and unsheathed his weapons. Addressing his team mates he said, “Ok listen up. Good news is we have a lot more room to move around this time, which should give us an advantage we didn’t have before. Bad news is that standing still at all will probably get us chopped into bits. Remember, their legs are the weakest point, exploit that at any given chance. Bliss, I’ll probably need you to throw your knives at those legs as soon as you get a sure shot. I should also advise neither of you to count on my fire-breathing, at most I only have two blasts left in me, I won’t fire unless I’m sure I won’t miss. Everything we do or don’t do counts.”
Dara inhaled deeply, his eyelids drooping for a moment before returning his visibility in his exhale. “I won’t lie to you; this would be hell of a lot easier with some back-up. But I swear, though I’ve already lost one team member I don’t intend to loose anymore today.” The draconic man steeled himself into a battle stance, foot forward, fists clenched on hilts, heart racing, and golden eyes ablaze with draconic/human fury, “Or ever again.”
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Bliss, with many thanks to Dara, was standing again. The case of vertigo she was currently suffering from would make her giggle if she was in any other situation, but this one did not. She tried to gain her wits back to herself because she knew for a fact that her head, still feeling rather light thanks to the scary amount of blood that she was losing from her leg. If she knew anything about anything, she would be able to tell that the wound itself wasn't that bad. The acid was still eating through her leg but it was nothing that would cause her to lose her leg. In fact, it would still not be bleeding if she hadn't scraped up the neat wound that had been cauterized. It was still nothing to laugh about but it wasn't the worst injury she had ever sustained. In fact, the healers, if they were as good as her last ones, which was more than likely, would have the leg healed up rather quickly.
But, of course, Bliss knew nothing about that so it never popped into her head. She just leaned on Dara, trying to take down gulps of fresh air, focusing on the pain to try and bring her normal self back. The rest of the world just blocked out of her mind and she tried to just calm herself down, remembering some breathing exercises that her father had taught her. She tried those out and started to feel the fog leave her mind as she increasingly came down back to earth. It was something of a rather sweet relief but she couldn't count herself perfectly fine yet, no, Bliss was just good enough to put a decent fight out and then crash once she got to the healers.
She winced as she put more and more weight on it, her mind becoming blank when the angel asked the question. Her mouth popped open but she shut it when Leilatha figured it out with no more than a simple blink. Bliss grinned, there was a lot more that she wanted to know about the girl if they managed to get through this thing, something that Bliss was increasingly becoming less confident about. The state that she was in now depressed her all the more, she had been so happy about her daggers.
The door creaked open and Bliss frowned as a minotaur stood proudly in the middle, the giant axe making the thing look much more menacing than it should have. She wanted to die just then but she shrugged off the feeling, she needed to get rid of the feelings of hopelessness, she would beat them. She tried to push her optimistic attitude back on herself but it proved to be more than a little hard, especially when the new minotaur showed up.
But that was all Bliss needed.
She grinned as new adrenaline pulsed through her veins, her neck hair standing on end. Thanks to the fear and adrenaline her body was producing, she was faced with her fight or flight option that it always gave her. And as always, Bliss took the fight one. The newly found energy her body gave her was tremendous and it let her forget about her leg briefly as her will to survive was suddenly boosted, her mind seeing the predicament she was in. Her chance to survive was suddenly slim to none but she wouldn't let that get in the way. She reached down and pulled the dirk out of her shoe, the other two daggers resting in her left hand.
"Leil, Dara, the big one will go slower, once he charges your way, I'll get a good throw at his ankle. It'll slow him down hopefully and then I'll do my thing, I'm probably the quickest her with my rush right now, despite my leg. Dara, Leil, you guys finish him off and I'll move onto the next one, slowing him down too, sound good?" She asked, her voice slurring a little bit. She knew her plan wasn't the best and could have been greatly improved but Bliss had never been one for perfect planning. In fact, it was more than sloppy but it would help her live, she always did and she wasn't about to die now. "Good luck!" She said with a two finger salute, her grin still resting on her face, she needed to do this, no one else was going to die.
Of course, her logic still had some good points, the bigger they were, the harder they feel. It always proved right in her books and she hoped it wouldn't fail her now, she just hoped that the other minotaur would stay confused long enough for her to get a good throw in after she got the bigger minotaur. She tried to balance the dirks weight in her hand, getting used to it as she aimed for her throw. She ran to the side a bit, limping despite her rush as she tried to get a lock on the minotaur.
It charged.
She threw.
She watched with a great sense of fear, not knowing if it actually managed to hit home. But her victory cry was enough to let the whole audience know that she hadn't, at least she still had that. Bliss mustered up as much courage as she could and took off in a mad dash, planning on slicing it's other ankle before she threw her other dagger at the other minotaur.
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The bigger minotaur charged at Bliss in a rage as she moved first, but when she threw he knife the minotaur suddenly pulled up short mostly avoiding the blade and only receiving a nick in the process. This minotaur seemed more intelligent than the other two not blindly charging its enemies in a rage, but instead attacking more cautiously. These gladiators shall fall by my blade just like all the others, I shall win this fight and acquire my freedom thought the great beast as he started planning out a strategy. When Bliss charged him the large minotaur stepped to the side and swung his axe in a horizontal swipe trying to decapitate her. While this was going on the smaller minotaur charged the other two gladiators with its axe held high focusing on the elven woman. Its primal thoughts were nothing more than to chase the elven woman down kill her and and taste her sweet flesh, and it would stop at nothing to achieve its goals.
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Leilatha had gaped in shock that the doors opened before her; it proved that despite her head injury she had still retained her elven ability to solve riddles. However her excitement quickly turned into horror at the sight of a Minotaur with a battle axe standing ahead of the trio. They equipped the beast!?! Leilatha glowered and cursed the King’s name under her breath, and then of all the horrid luck another Minotaur stepped out from a side passage. Thankfully he was weaponless, but now the haggard group had two monstrous creatures to handle and if their first battle was anything to compare to this. They would be hard pressed to survive the next few minutes, forget about winning the fight.
Giving both her comrades a nod of appreciation for their company, Leilatha listened to their ideas about attacking the creature’s legs. It seemed like a good plan, they had killed the first Minotaur using such a strategy. Bliss threw her knives; one lightly nicked the axe-wielding Minotaur’s leg he charged at Bliss. Leilatha thought she caught a gleam of intelligence in the creature’s eyes, but her attention was drawn to the first Minotaur it charged at Leilatha and Dara. There seemed to just be mindless killing in this one’s eyes.
Gathering the last of her strength, Leilatha shouted to Dara “Go help Bliss, I can handle this one!” With that she turned around and began to flee from the approaching Minotaur. Timing would be everything. She hoped the beast would think she was running into a dead end and decide to pursue her. The Minotaur quickly gained ground on the exhausted elf, completely out of sight from Dara and Bliss, she hoped the other two could handle themselves. One way or another the Minotaur would not be returning, Leilatha was determined to kill it.
Right before impacting upon the wall, Leilatha placed one foot and then another on the wall till she was halfway up. She turned and pushed off the wall, the landing was almost perfect she had a foot on either side of the Minotaur’s shoulders; though he shook mightily he could not dislodge the determined elf. Seeing her chance she grasped her remaining sword in both hands and plunged it downward with great force. She intended to bury it into the beast’s shoulder and then have it continue down into his heart.
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When Cutlass and Niall remained silent, Anvain took it upon herself to solve the riddle. “In my left I hold war, in my right I hold death, in my soul the power of a god, and in my eyes is the blackest rage. Who am I?” Though her lack of experience and knowledge of the kingdom made it difficult to think a logical answer, one thing did help her; she had heard earlier that this labyrinth was the King’s own design. He was a warrior and had defeated many in battle. Unable to think of anyone more like the riddle Anvain slid from Cutlass’s back and slowly approached the demon carving she kept her borrowed sword ready.
“My name is Anvain Koravelki and you are King Blackwell.” Anvain’s heart beat frantically in her chest. She feared the other two Minotaurs were just on the other side of the wall, waiting for their next kill. It was pure luck Anvain, Cutlass and Niall had not run into one of them yet.
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The smaller minotaur cashed thrashed in surprise as the elf woman landed on him. He flew into a rage a split second later trying to throw off the elf woman but not succeeding. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain at his shoulder, it was a sword passing into his body. In a last ditch effort the minotaur reached back and grabbed the elf woman flinging her off his back. The creature did not stop to see where the woman went as he stumbled away his vision clouding over. Then he hit something large at his back...it was alive and angry. It was the other minotaur, its brethren.
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The eyes of the demon on the door widened for a second in surprise before his features turned into a scowl. "You have passed, but do not expect to succeed in the future for I shall crush your will and your spirits under my thumb soon enough." The demon smiles a toothy grin before bowing. A smaller door opened up on the demon allowing access to the center of the arena. When the gladiators enter they will see the battle going on between Dara's team and the minotaurs. The door will open up around ten yards behind the large minotaur.
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The large minotaur brandished his axe, ready to do battle with Bliss and barely felt the knick of Leilatha's knife when it was thrown. Its focus was split between the gladiator in front of it and the others doing battle around it. No, these humans wouldn't surround him and take him so easily he would make sure of that. The only thing that tore his focus for a moment was one of its own as his smaller counterpart stumbled backwards into him. He bellowed in rage at first then the scent of its brother's blood hit his nose. The runt was injured and dying, no reason to let him suffer and impede this battle for freedom. Reaching up with one massive hand, the larger of the two grabbed one of the smaller beast's horns and with a sharp tug to the side and back a loud snap was heard as its neck was broken and then it crumpled to the ground. Heaving a snort, the gladiators remaining opponent tossed his head in a show of aggression before raising his axe once more in a battle ready position. He would win this fight and finally be free of this hell hole, then and only then could he begin to think of a way to get back at that wretched King Blackwell who he knew was responsible for his and his brethren's torment here.
The young Centaur looked down at his shoddy weapons before he cast them aside. He was never meant to have human tools in his hands. He didn’t create them; legally he wasn’t allowed to use them. The last thing he wanted was for his teammates to be punished because they armed a centaur. He slid the braces from his strong forearms and cast them away. He had no bow and quiver, bracers weren’t needed. There wasn’t time to do anything else. With one last sneeze and a whispered plea to his goddess Epona, he shifted quickly to the side and took off running. He allowed instinct to take over. Horses generally ran, it was herd mentality but he wasn’t part of a herd and his entire life had been leading him up to that rebellious act of charging into the fight. The Minotaur was his target and while the creature was far larger than the others that had been destroyed, Cutlass was not a small horse. He had greatly outweighed the other Minotaurs and seemed to be better fit to be the enemy than to be a friend. He didn’t charge straight at his opponent. There was no waiting to see what the Minotaur would do. With a full 2,500 pounds of muscle barreling around the track, the Centaur locked and focused on the other. The breastplate gave him no pause, for he wasn’t aiming for it. He wasn’t looking to stop and kick, though he found the idea strangely humorous. What he needed as the team to distract, for someone to do something until Cutlass could do what he was infamous for. Rearing up, striking out with those razor sharp front hooves and slamming all of his weight down on whatever back part of the minotaur that he could reach. He was aiming for the shoulders and back of the neck and if that didn’t work, it should have still hurt like a…
and if he died…well, surely there were greener pastures in Epona’s world.
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Anvain drew back at the demon’s threat. Were there going to be future fights like this? She shivered at the thought. Once the stone walls parted Anvain was given a full view of the battle within. Bliss seemed to have an injured leg and was hoping around bravely, Dara was unscathed for now, but Leilatha and Sean were missing. Suddenly a smaller Minotaur staggered from around a corner ahead a sword buried in his shoulder, as he approached the larger Minotaur he seemed to stumble and collided with his larger brother. Instead of showing tenderness to his mortally wounded brother, he grasped the other’s head and broke his neck with ease.
Anvain was beyond horrified; her legs began to wobble underneath her. What would the giant beast do to the gladiators, if he was willing to execute a fellow Minotaur in such a way.
Holding back tears Anvain rushed to Bliss’s side, how she wished for her Mother’s healing gift. As she examined the girl’s wound Anvain was greatly relieved to see it was superficial and it was unlikely to impair her movement later, once healed by Sylvani, Pandora or Kelyren. “Do not worry Bliss; your wound is not life-threatening. It can be easily fixed with healer’s magic.” She spoke quietly to the gladiator hoping the lone Minotaur would not take notice of the crouching pair.
Anvain stood up, her face set in a determined line. There would be no more death here if she could help it. The small elf dropped her sword and spread her hands wide in a non-threatening gesture. She slowly approached the Minotaur; she disregarded his axe and the other gladiator’s shouts of protest and shock. She bravely opened her mouth and addressed the Minotaur. “Mighty Minotaur, there is no reason for us to fight each other. You have not caused us injury or insult nor we you. I was recently captured from the far western forest, so I cannot pretend to know the suffering you have endured in this arena.” The elf could not read the Minotaur’s expression, but she knew it could save one of her fellow gladiator’s lives to have the beast on their side. So she continued, “Who do you truly hate? Is it the one that forces you to fight against scared and weak victims? Would you not rather fight against your oppressor than the other’s that he oppresses? Please I ask that you relinquish your weapon, as few we are weak. But as many….” Anvain let the questions dangle in the air while she looked into the Minotaur’s eyes wanting, needing him to understand.
It had been very reckless and bold of the elf to speak about the King in such terms, but her life in the forest had been one of tolerance and unyielding principles to protect and show kindness to even the smallest of creatures.
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Bliss was the closest gladiator to the minotaur so he chose the easiest route and made to swing his axe and make his first kill. Before he could land his killing blow the sound of loud hoofbeats mixed in with all the other noise came to his ears. No more of his brethren were here, they were all dead now were they not? Shifting his eyes he saw the centaur as it came barreling around and the minotaur turned to begin facing Cutlass, his attention toward Bliss and ending her life forgotten. This one was much more of a threat than the others, he was larger and larger meant more dangerous in his mind. With a growl he readied himself to do battle with his new opponent until yet another sound caused him to flick his ear towards the source. Someone was speaking calmly, that was odd enough for him to at least pay half attention to the voice while his eyes stayed on Cutlass but that was before he heard himself addressed.
Mighty minotaur? That was him, wasn't it? Truly confused, the large beast turned his head as he unwisely now disregarded the centaur to figure out which one of these pests was foolish enough to speak to him. Much to his surprise it wasn't one of the males or fiesty females but a weak looking elf. This was ridiculous, they put such castaways as this in the ring now? However she did have enough bravery to actually approach him so he would grant this small thing a slight pause to listen if only for a few seconds before quickly killing her. The female spoke longer than he thought she would though and his patience was growing thin. She used such large words and phrases that it angered him and he bellowed loudly towards her, picking up his attack ready position again as his eyes scanned for the centaur he had forgotten. Her last words though, oppress and oppressor, they were daunting words to him but he knew them well. She had asked why he fought them and not against the very one who kept him here. Did she not understand? To get to the King he had to fight whatever was put in front of him! Logic was undoubtedly not his strong suit but he did comprehend as few you are weak but as many you are strong. This was true, yes, but was she suggesting he wasn't strong himself? With yet another bellow he pounded a fist to his chest to show her he had his own strength. Why would they ever side with him? Their kind always locked his species up. They were forced into mazes, pits, arenas, whatever cruel idea struck their fancy. All minotaurs were merely shows of terror or guard dogs but he would be the first to have true freedom and use it to his advantage. "Hush!" He bellowed toward her in a guttural and broken sounding voice. "You will trick me. We fight! No talk!"
Tossing his head about as he snorted, he once more put on a great show of aggression to strike fear into his opponents but made no move to actually attack. Despite saying they would fight and not talk he seemed to be waiting for Anvain to make the first move. Had her words actually struck him more than he cared to admit to himself? Either way the crowd was getting antsy as they impatiently waited for more carnage. They called for the beast's blood, his back was turned and his attention was stupidly on the least threatening opponent in the arena. The masses shouted for any of the gladiators to take advantage and make a move so their blood lust could be partially satiated. Their calls were answered when the centaur struck, taking advantage of the minotaur's distraction. He bellowed in pain and surprise, his knees almost buckling with the weight of the hit as blood trickled down from his shoulder. He knew it, a trick is all it was! Turning quickly he swung his axe out in an arc hoping to hit the centaur but stopped short and grabbed the injured shoulder as it was jolted from his movement.
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Leilatha had thought her death was assured when the hairy beast had flung her. Instead she landed hard on her back, cracking several ribs on impact, she lay there for several long moments waiting for the beast’s face to obscure her view and end her life of endless torment. When he did not appear, she mustered her remaining strength and sat up, instantly she became dizzy and barely turned her head in time before she vomited the entirety of her breakfast. Her face wrinkled in disgust. What kind of warrior losses their breakfast so easily? Someone who is weak and deserves to die. Leilatha knew there was no room for weakness in the arena or in the life of a gladiator.
She wanted nothing more in that moment than to lie down and surrender to the pain that pulsed over her entire being, but she would always be a fighter and she refused to abandon her team. With almost supernatural determination, Leilatha began to put one hand in front of the other clawing her way to the fight. Her left side lagged badly and she had trouble feeling the left side of her face. Minor details it seemed, for when she caught sight of the tiny Anvain standing up to the beast, weaponless and alone. It triggered something deep within the jaded elf, perhaps a dormant mothering instinct, or a primal desire to protect those of the same species.
Whatever it was it gave the near spent elf strength to stand up and drag-run across the distance, almost without slowing her charge, Leilatha wrenched her sword free from the smaller Minotaur’s body. It seemed to be the perfect opportunity Cutlass had just struck a blow to the axe-wielding Minotaur’s shoulder, he swung his axe trying to catch the Centaur but the arc was cut short as he went to clutch his shoulder in agony. Anvain seemed to be carved in stone, she had not moved since Cutlass’s brilliant kick. Foolish child! Leilatha thought angrily. As she began to shout for her to get out of the way, an idea began to form in her head. It was true the small elf was in a very dangerous position, standing so close to the monster. However, Leilatha could use this chance opportunity to step on Anvain’s back and pierce the Minotaur’s throat in one smooth movement.
While the Minotaur was busy watching Cutlass with his angry black eyes, Leilatha used her last remaining strength to take a running leap, she placed one foot on Anvain’s back, pushed with all her might and Thump! She had badly miscalculated her landing, for she was now wrapped around the Minotaur’s neck. The sight would have been almost comical had Leilatha’s life not been in peril, his expression quickly changed from confusion to murderous rage. When his lifted his head to look her in the face Leilatha took the opportunity. Sliding her sword into the space between his chin and her body she used her full weight and leverage to pierce his neck. She only stopped her thrust when she could see the sword tip protruding from the back of his neck.
Leilatha breathed a sigh of relief. She had done it, the beasts were dead, and the gladiators had triumphed! They would all live to see another day. Exhaustion suddenly overwhelming Leilatha, forcing her to release her death grip on the creature’s neck. As luck would have it she landed directly on Anvain, who had just begun to right herself after the first incident. Anvain’s face was roughly shoved into the dirt when Leilatha impacted into her, she lay there stunned and choking on a mouthful of blood covered sand. Leilatha practically unconscious was glad she had a soft landing; completely unaware Anvain was now pinned underneath her.
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King Blackwell watched closely, his eyes glowing white, as the gladiators struggled against the minotaur chief; giving a carnivorous grin when the gladiators succeeded. "Perfect!" He said as he stood up from his chair and walked to the edge of the balcony he was observing the fight from. He laid his hand on the arena masters shoulder "Lets finish this fight up shall we?" he said in a cheerful tone as the image in the sky once again turned to the kings face. "Wonderful!" his voice boomed over the coliseum "Did you enjoy the blood my loyal subjects?". The crowd roared their approval "Should we get some healers to these brave warriors?" the sound from the stadium rose to a roar as the citizens cheered even louder. "Guards! take the gladiators to the healing room and let these brave warriors rest!" Suddenly the walls of the labyrinth disappeared as the gates to the coliseum floor opened up letting in 20 armed guards. The lead guard walked up to the gladiators and signaled men to help the injured warriors who could not move on their own. A few of the solders disarmed the gladiators taking their swords before the warriors were ushered out one of the gates and into the healing room.
After the gladiators were out of the arena the king turned around and started walking out "The show is yours again arena master" Blackwell said over his shoulder as he signaled for his mages and guards to follow. When out of ear shot from anyone but his trusted followers he signaled for the captain of his guard lord Logan Gyre. Lord Gyre was a monster of a man standing at a massive 7'8" with 400 pounds of muscle to full him out. He keeps his head shaved for intimidation and his beard long and unkempt for the same reason. He was a notorious fiend taking whatever women he with the bad habit of drinking copious amounts of ale and flying into a rage destroying the tavern afterwards. Some say that he wrestles minotaurs for a hobby though no one has ever seen him commit such a feet everyone believes that it could be true due to his weapon of choice, a freakishly large 5 foot long 3 foot wide great sword that even three strong men could not pick up though Gyre weilds it with ease. Many say his strength and size are due to magical enhancements given to him by the king. As the massive man walked up beside his king he gave a quick bow before speaking in a surprisingly sober tone "My lord what do you need?" Blackwell grinned at the man "Contact the Minotaur tribes and tell them their leader has been slain in a fair duel by me. They now are bound by honor to follow me as their new leader." Lord Gyre looked at his king in confusion "Sir forgive me for questionin ya but did you not say the minotaurs were from king Minos?" Blackwell gave his trade mark grin "Yes I did say that didn't I... well the two small minotaurs were from kings Minos's stock but the large one, well he had been invited to come and meet with me about his lands being invaded by some of my troops or some such nonsense. When I asked if him and his people would serve me he was not very cooperative so I had him thrown into the games. Either way his people will now serve me because I have defeated their leader in fair combat."
Gyre grinned showing some of his black teeth "Yer a bloody genius sir."
"Yes, yes enough with the flattery go and send my message and have the Minotaurs body prepared to be shipped to his people"
"Right away Sir" Gyre saluted before running off.
When the captain was gone Blackwell stood tapping his foot in thought for a moment "Now how about we go see my little pawns shall we. I'm sure by the time I get there they will be healed up and ready to meet their king" With that Blackwell set off towards the healing room his eyes glowing a joyous white.
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Jacob ran out of the dragons cage and sprinted up into the stands looking around frantically for Kelyren hoping that the boy hadn't been attacked by anyone. By the time the fight was over Jacob spotted Kelyren. "There you are, dammit your hard to find!" he exclaimed "....tell me you didn't run into anyone suspicious did you? There was something I forgot to tell you healers before the fight started. There is a powerful man looking to hurt the gladiators , and his intention is to do so through you healers so watch out for anyone ok." suddenly the king announced the gladiators were being brought to the healing area. "Damn no time to chat. Come on boy we have to go" the big man said as he abruptly started off towards the healing area though stopping long enough to glare at Kelyren "Oh and if I find you are trying to kill my gladiators...well I'll leave it up to your imagination, Now lets hurry I'm gonna tear those gladiators a new one for doing so poorly this damn fight."
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From her own personal box, Jordan watched the fight unfold with bright eyes. It was always a joy to see the newest gladiators in the arena. Of course it wasn't because she was thrilled to see what tactics they would come up with to side step danger or how adept they were with their weapons, oh no, it was much more what she say visually that appealed to her. The muscles, sweat, and blood were all very alluring to the princess and this was the prime time to pick out which man, or woman, she wanted as hers to toy with for the time being. To be honest there were quite a few that caught her eye in this group and she had never had a centaur before but goodness would that be exciting.
The moment the minotaur chief was slain a disapproving frown settled across her face, not because she disapproved of the blood or death of the beast oh no but more so because this meant a win for her father which was something she wasn't the least bit pleased about. Oh well, there were still other factions and creatures that resisted him so he wasn't yet all powerful although he certainly liked to believe so. Pushing those thoughts from her mind she once again returned to thinking about the gladiators and who she wished to have. There was the centaur, that large foreign fellow, the dragon man and of course the elf who had shown quite bravery in dispatching not one but two minotaurs. Oh choices, choices, choices! Biting her lip in thought, she rose from her chair as her two guards and two mages followed suit. Her thoughts only stopped when she saw her father and she hurried over to him after plastering a pleasant smile to her face. "Father! Did you enjoy the fight? It seems you did from the look in your eyes. I was wondering, would you mind if I went to take a closer peek at our new gladiators? I thought a hello from the princess would give the poor warriors a boost after such a hard battle." Blackwell looked over to his daughter with a partially raised brow and a knowing look in his eye. He wasn't any fool and knew what his daughter truly wanted but it was honestly of no concern to him. "Why of course my dear. In fact I'm on my there now so feel free to follow me." Returning his daughter's smile his head snapped to the left as he heard Gyre's voice calling out to him. "Sir! I need to speak with ya about the shipment." "Hm, very well I'll be there in a moment Gyre." Looking down at his daughter once more he knew he could at least trust her to relay information to the gladiators in his stead. "My dearest can you inform the gladiator named Dara, he's the dragon born I believe, that he has been named the crowd favorite? Oh, and, give him my congratulations will you?" Yet another charming smile and off he went with Gyre. Jordan smiled for a moment before glaring at his back as she turned and made her way down into the healing room where she patiently waited near a wall for the gladiators.
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The familiar voice brought Kelyren out of his thoughts and jerked him roughly into reality. He opened his eyes and turned to see Jacob coming towards him.
"Sorry," he mumbled tiredly. Now that he was no longer burning with anger at Gideon (and maybe himself, for accepting the offer) he was starting to feel weary. "I didn't mean to disappear."
Jacob's question made him pause, and a sharp knife of worry stabbed at him. Yes, he had run into someone suspicious. From what that "someone suspicious" had said, there indeed was a powerful man looking to hurt the gladiators - and he had managed to sway Kelyren, who was a healer, into doing his bidding. What am I supposed to say? Kelyren wondered. If I don't say anything, no one will know anything if Gideon double-crosses me and I wind up dead in an alley somewhere. If I do say something, I bet Gideon will somehow learn of it, and then I'll be in deep trouble. Deep down, he knew that he should do the right thing and admit that he had met such a man, and agreed to do some dirty work for him... but his overwhelming desire to be reunited with his sister overpowered that instinct.
"Uh... thanks for letting me know, I guess." That was all he could come up with for a reply. He didn't know if he could say anything else without running the risk of letting something slip. Kelyren hurried after Jacob, and almost ran into the other man when he stopped.
He did not expect the glare and the warning. It made him flinch and look away, breaking eye contact with Jacob. He could only nod once in response, and he continued the journey to the healing area in silence.
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And thats it, like a cancelled TV show it just ends there and wasn't picked up again =(. I hope those who read it enjoyed it. Feel free to ask questions or discuss the plot and characters if you want.