OK, I want to thank the people who reviewed, you truly bolstered my
confidence. I figure I'll address some of the things you said about me: 1)
since you apparently liked the epic battle scene I'll try to fit a few more
in and try to make them varied. 2) I don't know how much political
intrigue I can throw into this, but I'll try to put in enough to suit your
tastes. That's basically it. As previously stated, I'll try to post once
a week, depending on how things are working. By the way, since italics
haven't been appearing, thoughts are going to appear in these: *
Chapter One: A Gladiator's shot at Redemption
The Coliseum of Dragker was a fairly renowned area. Numerous gladiators from all races and all walks of life entered the games in a search for notoriety, wealth, and possible freedom. The latter was the case of a slave known as Fenris.
He had been found by a group of slavers as a young boy and they, being the kind and gentle slavers they were, sent him to the Pits of Granek. Once there, he was trained to be a part of the glorious slave army that would be the force that conquered the world in the name of the Sorcerer-King Janabis. Unfortunately that plan backfired when he died trying to create a magical artifact to aid in his war. The then teen aged Fenris was sent to Dragker where he faced off against whatever opponents they had in mind for him.
Due to his training he fit right in, he was cold, calculating, and utterly remorseless in the fight. That crowd loved and hated him for his prowess. Where others made a show of rivalry and glamour, he fought to win, and he fought to kill, and today would be no different for him. He was tall, measuring about six feet and was stocky, his mass coming from his muscled form. His black hair was kept shortly trimmed and he kept himself free of facial hair. His brown eyes focused intensely upon the pathway which he would soon walk down and into the arena.
Fenris was buckling on his arm guard, it protected his sword arm while his left was to be protected by the round steel shield hooked to his arm by an eight foot long chain. His torso and legs were covered by steel plates that glittered in the sunlight of the room. His final piece of armor left was his steel campana which, with his head lowered, would provide a second shield against projectiles when he charged.
Fully suited he began the walk towards the arena. The stomp of human feet and the cries of the spectators in excitement grew louder with each footstep. Coliseum guards flanked the walkway, ensuring that no slave would attempt to fight his way out. Fenris kept walking. He could begin to distinguish the crowd's chants.
"FEN-RIS"
"FEN-RIS"
"FEN-RIS"
"FEN-RIS"
Whether or not the cheers were in support or derision didn't matter to the slave. He would win again or die and be released from his bonds. He finally stepped out into the sweltering daylight. The marble walls surrounding him before rising up into the stands were used to dazzle not only the spectators, but the fighters as well. In some of the fights, a resident sorcerer would imbue the walls to flash searing light onto the fighters in a deadly ballet meant to incinerate the unwary. Pieces of debris, some as big as himself, were strewn about the battlefield since some of the fights included archers or sorcerers. Fenris saw his opponent step out of the opening directly opposite to him.
He was a nomad from the Desert of Blades. He was a big man, maybe he was here for the money, or maybe he was an outcast among his people. Fenris shook those thoughts out of his head, to think about the enemy was to make them less of an abstraction, and thusly, making it harder to kill. The more of a human, the less of a fighter.
The nomad pulled out a massive falchion and held it in one hand. Whether this was a sign of the actual strength or merely a gimmick, would have to be seen. The two opponents walked toward each other amidst the cries of the spectators, they had reached a fevered pitch in the excitement to see the blood and violence as the two moved closer together. When they stood no more than five feet from each other the crowd grew silent. The nomad stood at least six and half feet, a half foot taller than Fenris. Fenris, was probably outclassed in strength and body, but those factors mattered little in a fight controlled by a showman. Whether or not the fight would be another choreographic masterpiece would again depend upon the crowd.
For a brief moment everything was still, people dared not breathe. Fenris's muscles tensed in anticipation, he awaited the gong that signified the beginning of the fight. The Nomad tensed too, and crouched down into a better defensive position against a smaller man. Fenris raised his shield...
The signaler began to march solemnly to the tower...
The crowd rubbed their hands and licked their lips...
The nomad gripped his falchion in two hands...
The hammer was raised and fell slamming into the gong, breaking the silence of the world which then erupted in a cacophony of cheers, taunts, war cries, and the clash of steel. The nomad struck first slamming his falchion two handed into Fenris's shield, trying to break it or him. Fenris countered with three quick cuts to measure the speed of the opponent. Each was masterfully blocked and then returned in rapid succession. Low sweeps of the weapons caused the other to jump and attack with an overhead blow. Each fighter moved in a constant state of action and reaction.
The nomad made his first mistake by getting angry, he didn't yell or increase the fury of his attacks, but the tightening in his eyes and the gritting of his teeth gave Fenris the signs he needed. He retreated into a total defensive strategy, each attack was blocked with sword or shield. Each time the nomad left himself open, Fenris let it slide. Fenris saw his chance to attack after a vicious four combo attack leaving both he and the nomad winded. Fenris rushed in after he regained his footing, lunged forward with his sword only to have it blocked. But the sword was a feint, a misleading attack that allowed the nomad to be slammed backward by his shield. The dazed nomad retreated backwards as Fenris continued his rush slashing at his opponent, trying to score a hit. Finally, Fenris fell into a trap his own trap, he had left himself open.
Sensing an opportunity, the nomad brought his falchion up high over his head, leaping into the air preparing to cleave his opponent's skull. Fenris's sword was useless at this point, he couldn't bring it to bear in time and his shield and arm would likely be cut off in an attempt to block. Fenris let out a fierce roar of anger and frustration before rushing the still airborne nomad. The shield-led charge hit the nomad full force and his breathless body was held aloft by the charging Fenris. Fenris's view of what was in front was completely cut off so he charged blindly until he felt the body slam into one of the pieces of debris. An audible snap followed by a collective "OH!" from the crowd, not to mention the now limp weight upon his shield told Fenris that his opponent was either paralyzed by the breaking of his spine, or dead. He let the body fall onto the ground, seeing blood decorate the stone.
Fenris turned away as the crowd began another deafening cheer of his name.
"FEN-RIS"
"FEN-RIS"
"FEN-RIS"
"FEN..." The last part was cut off as he descended once more into the cool underground below the coliseum. Some of the guards saluted him or just nodded their heads in greeting, Fenris just walked by. He arrived in the arming room and saw one of the regular slaves standing in his crisp uniform, apparently awaiting Fenris's arrival.
"Excellent show Fenris. Master Murnab requires your presence after you have washed and changed. He wishes to discuss the next fight." With that, the slave turned on his heels and walked out of the room. Fenris unstrapped his campana and then began to remove the rest of his armor before walking towards his quarters.
Since Fenris enjoyed great renown, he was able to have his own suite complete with bathing pool and own slaves to take care of him. He usually just ignored them and left them to their own devices, they never spoke to him nor tried to be friendly, they were below him in the hierarchy. He tossed off his clothes and waded into the pool, not taking time to relish the continuously warm waters, just cleaning himself off enough to be presentable to Murnab.
Ten minutes later, his bath complete, Fenris clothed himself and began to walk down to the office of the Master of the Coliseum. Murnab had been running the games for over a decade and he was the one who owned Fenris. Murnab ran the games the way he wanted, every fight had a clear outcome for him, he was the puppeteer, and Fenris was his marionette. Each fight had a twist, whether it was the fighters each being told that the other was going to be poisoned, or that a trap was set that only one knew about. Murnab used to be mayor of Dragker until he was ousted out of the political arena and into this one. Now though, with the money the fights brought, and the number of slave warriors under his control, Murnab ran everything about the city. If you were friends with Murnab, you lived in the nicest neighborhoods, had the best protection, and typically gained the most power. If Murnab was your enemy, you'd be lucky if you had food and a shack. Murnab used to be boss of the mayor's office, and then boss of the arena, now he was simply The Boss.
Fenris opened the door into the office and saw Murnab sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair and sipping at a glass of wine. The Boss was a tall thin man with long white hair pulled back into an intricate ponytail. He was dressed in a crisp, blood red doublet with black trimming. His pants were also red with similar black trimming, as far as Fenris knew, Murnab had nothing but red clothes. As soon as Fenris entered, the other slaves exited. Murnab never let any other slaves listen in on these conversations, he didn't want his game plan to be compromised.
Fenris took the seat directly in front of the desk and leaned back waiting for Murnab to reveal his next master plan. "Congratulations on the fight Fenris, I never expected you to be able to bull rush such a man." Murnab congratulated, pausing only to take a sip of wine. "Your next fight will probably be easier, but I want you to put on a real show, make the audience and your opponent real surprised."
"How?" Fenris asked succinctly.
"Your opponent is the Plainsmen Bo. He is the fastest archer in the coliseum, you may have noticed him in one of the marksmen duels. I want you to get shot three times in Bo's traditional style. He will attack you once into you upper arm of you right arm, once again at your left knee, and then a final arrow into the stomach. Then when he closes range, he'll stand exactly ten feet from you. Knock his final arrow and in a coup de grace, he will finish you. Only when he knocks his bow, throw your shield at him, revealing a new trick to the crowd for the first time. Did you get all that?" Murnab finished his explanation of the fight.
Fenris nodded and rose to his feet. The next fight would probably be in the next couple of days. Days where Fenris didn't fight were slow days for him, he rarely saw any action and basically spent his time modifying his armor for the fight and training. The next three days were no different. Fenris attached a lot more padding to his armor in the areas where Bo would shoot him. The morning of the fight dawned and Fenris once again prepared.
The atmosphere of the crowd was different this time. They cheered of course, but they didn't root for one fighter. They were being treated to the only fight of this kind they had ever heard of, what would occur here would determine nothing in the standings, but would provide a lot of amusement for the fans. Fenris knew that he was the underdog in this fight, Bo was expected to dispatch him in his typical quickness, only, Fenris was much better than this Bo character was.
The sun was as high as ever, the marble walls reflected the light with such a rainbow of brilliance, that Fenris dipped his hat slightly so that his eyes were shielded. Bo could be seen standing close to some of the debris, Fenris figured he would make a dash for it and be safe to shoot at him. The crowd grew silent again as Fenris watched the signaler go to his platform. The hammer was raised, it struck the gong, the signal resounded throughout the arena, and the fight began.
Bo fired a shot to measure the reactions of his opponent. Fenris made a show of barely blocking it with his shield. Fenris then drew his sword and rushed the protected archer with his head slightly down to protect his head from arrow shots. His sword arm was wide, providing the bait for Bo and he bit, hook line and sinker. Fenris felt the impact in his arm, harder than he had anticipated, but not injuring. The charge faltered and the sword was dropped.
A second arrow was let loose and Fenris ducked his head completely and brought up his shield, the arrow clanged off his campana but another flew directed into his upper thigh. Staggering onto the ground, Fenris welcomed the final shot. It zoomed in with the same amount of accuracy the previous shots had hit with. Fenris went down to his hands and knees pretending to be prone. Bo strutted forward, Fenris had lost his hat with the pretense that he was breathing harder, and needed the strap undone. He glared up at the Plainsmen, who merely smirked down at him from ten feet away.
"And here I was thinking that you would offer a challenge." Bo said pulling the killing arrow back and knocking it. Fenris waited, sweat running down his forehead, sliding down his nose before reaching the tip. Slowly it collected and dropped splashing into the sand underneath. Fenris exploded into motion hurling his shield at the stunned Bo. The collective sharp intake of breath signified the shock of the crowd, the shield spun towards its target. The bow gave way under the force, snapping in two before the shield itself slammed into Bo's chest knocking all the breath out of him. The Plainsmen slumped to the ground defeated.
Fenris collapsed too, but only for effect. He could feel himself being lifted up and being carried into the passageway leading to his room. He re-exerted control over his body and began walking casually. He pulled the three arrows out, only the one in his stomach had any blood. Tossing the arrows aside, he disarmed himself and stepped into the hallways of the Coliseum.
It was a marvel of the architectural community, marble stone crafted the entire building, magic made it seamless, and the artwork made it timeless. Sunlight came in, casting arched shadows as it came in threw the windows. Fenris continued to walk down the hallways, limping slightly from the puncture wound at his knee, after a few turns and several guards eyeing him askance he made it into the office of Murnab once more.
It was the same as ever except Murnab was not behind his desk sipping a victory glass of wine, but looking at several of his exotic, carnivorous plants. A particularly large specimen had a sparrow trapped in its tendrils and was slowly squeezing the bird to death. Murnab was chuckling slightly at the display, he caressed on of the flowering stalks that would act as a lure in the wild almost fatherly. The Boss caught Fenris in the mirror and turned around smiling. "Another excellent fight!" He said proudly, clapping Fenris soundly on the shoulder. He looked down and noticed the blood slowly running down Fenris's leg. "You should get that looked at, we'll discuss the next fight over dinner." Murnab said before making a dismissing gesture with his left hand.
Fenris limped out again began his trek back to his own room, he would likely get one of his slaves to find a healer while he bathed. Fenris arrived back at his room and sent one of his slaves to go find a healer and another to get his armor and repair it. Fenris removed his clothes and began to bathe again. This time he soaked longer, he was getting tired. He longed for the day when he would finally gain enough money to leave, and then he could do whatever he wanted. Explore the world, fight in other coliseums. Or maybe just sit back, and enjoy the summer breeze from a good vantage point.
A healer walked in, Fenris was slightly surprised by the lack of a knock, but he would live with it. It was an older man who leaned upon a cane slightly. "It was a good fight today Master Fenris. If you would step out of the pool I'll be able to bandage you up quite nicely." He said in a mild voice. Fenris stood up and grabbed a robe from the wall and sat down on the bench. The healer bent over slightly and rubbed some sort of poultice onto the wound. Fenris gritted his teeth at the sensation but didn't cry out. With the poultice on, nothing was left but to bandage it and wait. The healer left after bidding his goodbye and Fenris was left to whittle away another few hours.
Nothing much happened, Fenris sat in a daze and looked up at the ceiling. Images danced across it in response to his imagination's prodding. Shadowy figures that were his parents played in front of his mind as he thought about what his parents might have been like, or what he dreamt his parents were like. He pushed such thoughts away and began to get dressed for the dinner with Murnab. He wore the same simple clothes that all slaves wore when in his position. He walked down the halls, barely limping, the poultice had done its work and he now had almost his normal mobility.
He entered into the office and saw no one inside. He continued to walk through, the carnivorous plant hissed slightly, how it could was a mystery to him, but he steered clear of it. He was about to go into the back room when he heard a conversation. He immediately recognized Murnab's voice laughing slightly, the other voice he couldn't quite place. Fenris leaned in closer and tried to distinguish more of the conversation.
"An excellent idea!" *Murnab.*
"I hope that this Fenris of yours can win, it would make for excellent rematch material." *There's the unknown guy.*
"You have nothing to worry about, Fenris is unstoppable." Murnab answered, the two laughed and Fenris could hear them beginning to go towards the door. Fenris straightened himself and moved over to the plants. He tried his best to look casual when Murnab and his guest came out. The second man was dressed in finely crafted mail armor. A black cloak went down to about his calves and his arms and legs were covered in metal plates. He also carried a sword, something that no one except guards had the privilege of carrying, this man would likely to prove dangerous. In the time it took for Fenris to examine this man, he was already leaving, with Fenris being led into the banquet hall where a sumptuous dinner was laid before him.
He sat down directly opposite to the man who would control his fate for the next fight. The food smelled appetizing, Fenris went through the first course of soup quickly, paying for it with a burned mouth. Murnab did not choose to speak. The second course of salad was eaten, more leisurely now by Fenris who kept his eyes on the still silent Murnab. Fenris grabbed the glass of wine and gulped it down while the slave placed a dish of roasted herd beast before him. Fenris dived into this same dish all the while beginning to grow nervous. His arena was the fight, not some dinner with a politician.
At last, when the food was done and the wine drained, Murnab chose to speak. "Your next fight will be against this Woren girl. You've probably heard about her from the other competitors, she is the most popular fighter we have. I want you to beat her, but don't kill her." Murnab said without any of his old kind of flare, he said these words without any of his normal inflection, he just stated them. Fenris was even more nervous than he was when he listened in to the conversation. *I guess I know what they were referring to when they were talking about the fight.* Fenris rose and walked out of the banquet hall, through the office, and straight back to his room. Along the way he bumped into his previous opponent Bo.
"Hey dude! That was one hell of a trick you pulled!" Bo said in a deep voice, which was filled with a kind of exuberance. Fenris was kind of taken aback by this display of joviality. Bo offered his furry hand in a handshake which Fenris took, albeit reluctantly. Bo basically steered Fenris down the hall and struck up a conversation with him regardless of whether or not Fenris wanted to come with him.
"I have to admit, I never would have thought of someone using a trick like that. Where'd you learn it?" Bo asked peering down at him, he was tall like all other Plainsmen, his canine face was questioning but before Fenris could open his mouth to reply Bo went down off another path of conversation. "I was amazed when I first arrived at this place. I never thought that a town could be so big. My hometown was much smaller than this place. You could probably fit my hometown into a corner of this city..." On and on he talked, Fenris could barely keep up with the fast talking archer.
They eventually reached the main gallery of the Coliseum. A few of the fighters were standing around or reclining in some of the couches scattered about the room. A trained musician slave was always present at this room, strumming on a harp or some other instrument. Today, a big commotion was centered upon this Woren girl in the middle of a group of fans all searching for an autograph. Bo stopped his yammering and pointed directly at her.
"Hey dude look, it's Cizrai. (That C's pronounced like a K.) I hear that she's the best, simply put, all around best." That comment was said without any of his usual exuberance or speed. Bo actually seethed in this girl's presence, especially now that she was smiling and laughing. Fenris snorted at the comment.
"They may say she's the best, but she hasn't fought me yet. Actually, I think that she's my next opponent." Fenris said finally pulling free of the now shocked Bo. Everyone seemed shocked by that comment, the fans around the Woren girl were quiet and gawking at him. The Woren girl was also looking at him, though she looked like she was sizing him up for the fight.
"Dude, she'll kill you!" Bo blurted out, once he saw Fenris's hard stare back at him he amended his statement. "I know your good and all that, but she's faster than my arrows sometimes!" Fenris snorted in derision of the comment, he could take anything the Boss would throw at him.
Fenris heard someone clearing their throat and turned to look down at the diminutive girl. She was probably only five-four, five-five tops. She was also probably ten years his junior as he neared his third decade and she was not even at her second. She was dressed in a sort of cross between a dominatrix corset and armor. It was black leather showing off a curvaceous body that was covered in chainmail to protect her torso. Her arms and shins also had metal plates to protect her.
"Can I help you?" Fenris asked looking down at her. She wouldn't pose a threat to him, the crowd probably liked her since she looked like a whore. A violent whore, but a whore none the less.
"So, you're the great Fenris that I'm supposed to be fighting? You don't look that tough." She said in a purring sort of voice, most Worens had that kind of voice though she seemed to have tried to break it.
"Kid, looks have nothing to do with your opponent. I'll tell you what, if you're still alive after our fight, I'll give you a few pointers on how to win." Fenris said perfectly sincere. The crowd and Cizrai thought that he was being patronizing. The crowd began to mutter to themselves and Cizrai looked ready to knock him off his feet.
Fenris scowled at the people for misinterpreting his comment and turned away, walking back to his room. "Don't turn your back on me you bastard! When we fight, I'll send you crying back home to your momma!" Cizrai shouted at his back. Fenris continued to walk away, he could hear Bo running to catch up with him.
"Hey dude, slow down!" He yelled at walking Fenris. "Do you really think you can beat her?" He asked in the same seething tone he had when he referred to Cizrai last time.
"Yes." Fenris said succinctly.
"Ah dude if you could do that, you'd be the best, not only that, you would have an eternal place in my heart for knocking that Woren down a few pegs." Bo said, returning to his past exuberance.
Fenris stopped and opened the door to his room. "I'll see you some other time, right now, I'm going to bed." Bo smiled and was about to respond except the door got closed in his face by an antisocial Fenris. Fenris got undressed and went to sleep. He didn't dream, he almost never did.
The next few days went by in a flash. Most of the fights in those days barely had any attendance, everyone was talking about the show down between Cizrai and Fenris. Most of the money was on Cizrai and most of the posters advertising for the fight had Cizrai as the main fighter, Fenris was practically fine print. He saw Bo every so often and tried to avoid him or at least dissuade Plainsmen from ever talking to him again. It didn't work.
The day of the fight dawned with iron grey storm clouds looming in the distance. The fight was set for noon, and by that time it would be storming fiercely. *At least I don't have to worry about them using the reflecting walls to incinerate me.* Fenris dressed and made sure everything was in order with the Fight Coordinator, his armor was down there and everything was ready for the fight. Typically Murnab would speak with him before a fight as important as this one but he was uncharacteristically silent.
Noon began to near and Fenris began walking towards the arming room. The people who passed him in the halls taunted and jeered at him but he ignored their slander and kept on walking. Once he got to the arming room and spotted Bo leaning against the wall. "Good luck dude, at least one person will be rooting for you." He said laughing slightly. Fenris nodded in greeting and thanks and walked into the room. He began to dress, this was a big fight because he could hear the crowd from inside of here. The armor came on and then he belted the sword and shield to his arms. Then he began the walk towards the arena, the crowd grew louder and louder, after only a score of steps, he could hear their chants.
"CIZRAI!"
"CIZRAI!"
"CIZRAI!"
"CIZRAI!"
"CIZRAI!"
"CIZRAI!"
On and on the chanting went until he reached the open arena. Rain was just beginning to fall, hard. The water hitting his campana and other armor was loud in his own ears, but not nearly as loud as the overwhelming support the crowd had for the Woren girl. He spotted her across the intervening distance and could see her waving to the crowd even though she was soaking wet.
Fenris began to walk forward through the rain, growing more and more soaked as he progressed. Cizrai started to walk forward too, though at a much slower and haughtier pace. She got within eight feet and smirked at him. The scene could have been comical with her fur drenched and matted to her body, but there was a good chance one of them would die, taking away from any mirth Fenris might have had. The crowd grew silent all of a sudden and Fenris glanced over to see Murnab underneath a blood red canopy getting ready to deliver a speech to the crowd. He rarely did this.
"Spectators! It is a rare occasion in which we are able to see such warriors! That is why it gives me great pleasure to begin this fight and let it once and for all be decided who the champion of this arena is!" Murnab shouted and the crowd roared in excitement. Murnab gestured with his hand and the gong was struck.
The two circled each other, neither wanting to make the first attack. Cizrai had a large spear typically wielded by samnites or centurions. It had a curved blade in front with a cast iron other end piece that could crack skulls. She finally let out a war cry and lunged at him. Fenris batted it aside with his shield and thrust forward with his spear to have it deflected in turn. Cizrai followed through the deflection with a second attack that was caught on his shield. Fenris tried to throw her back and thrust free but she proved much stronger than he thought. He eventually gave up his original ideal and shoved it to the side beginning a series of slashes that were each intercepted by the middle of the staff.
The sword strokes fell with such strength that the wood was beginning to chip away under the blows. After five strokes Cizrai retaliated with two quick strikes with either end of her spear. Each was deflected by sword or shield but the true intent became apparent when she kicked him hard in the chest, sending him sprawling into the sand. Briefly dazed, Fenris saw Cizrai preparing the coup de grace, leaving herself open was just what Fenris needed to get back in the fight. He kicked her hard in the stomach, she let out an explosion of breath before she stumbled backwards. Fenris rolled to his feet and rushed the still reeling Woren. He thrust forward, set to impale her but she dove to the side and rolled back to her feet.
Fenris smiled and unleashed his ace in the hole. He threw his shield out and caught her in the stomach again. Fenris unhooked the chain from his arm and sacrificed his shield for the attack. He also unhooked his campana as it was becoming a bother. The water fell down onto his head for the first time, and the water began to run down his face slightly obscuring his vision. Cizrai was just now getting to her feet, Fenris stopped, not wanting to fall for a leg sweep. Just when he stopped he heard something click beneath him. *Trap!* Fenris jumped back just as a set of giant spears erupted from the ground. "So they decided to spring the traps." Fenris said smiling, he had been in a few other trap battles to get a general idea of where things were.
Cizrai had no such advantage. She had gotten to her feet but was now staring around her, trying to discover the path to take to get to Fenris. She was about to charge around the spikes but stopped after one step when Fenris smiled. She glared at him and went the other way. *I can fool her so easily, she has no idea how the traps are set up.* Fenris waited for Cizrai to almost be around the spikes and then he moved and used them as a buffer. He started to laugh at her from behind the safety of the buffer.
"You fucking coward! You weren't acting so tough when I was winning! Stop running and fight!" Cizrai shouted at him, attempted to catch him as she rushed around the corner again.
"Why waste the energy to fight you when I can lead you into a trap?" Fenris asked still laughing. Cizrai stopped dead at that comment, Fenris seized the moment to jog over and grab his shield. Cizrai was warily stalking towards him, she didn't want to spring another trap though she was sure there was nothing in her way.
Fenris began to walk slowly backwards, circling around and imaginary trap or two, always keeping his eyes upon Cizrai. The closest trap to him was directly to his left, probably only a foot away. Cizrai sneered at him and charged as fast as she could. *She is pretty fast.* Fenris thought as she rushed towards him. Fenris brought back his shield arm and threw it with all his might. She leapt over it nimbly but landed straight into a pit trap.
The entire crowd was shocked, they had never thought that this fight would end like this. Here was one of the best fighters letting the traps do his dirty work. "All too easy." He said simply as he walked over to the pit. He looked down at Cizrai who was nursing what looked like a broken ankle. She glared up at him from the moment she noticed him.
"You bastard! You fucking bastard! Next time we fight I will rip out your intestines and make a new scarf out of them! You here me! Don't you walk away you impotent fuck!" Fenris started laughing at the entire situation. This was the one place where he could let himself be free. He strolled out of the arena amidst the jeers of the audience though here and there he could hear some hands clapping.
He walked casually into the arming room and began to unbuckle his armor, some slave would pick up his items. Once he got into the room he spotted another messenger awaiting him. "Murnab wants to see you in his office as soon as you've removed you armor." He said before he turned on his heel and left.
Fenris unbuckled his armor plates and walked into the hallway to immediately get accosted by Bo. He clapped him hard on the shoulder and began whooping and congratulating him all at once and Fenris was just plain confused.
"Look Bo, I know you're happy for me but I need to talk to Murnab immediately." Fenris said once he was able to get a word in edgewise. Bo sobered up once he heard that name and simply said goodbye before turning around and running off someplace. *Maybe he betted on me.* Fenris thought as he walked towards Murnab's office. Rain water had been collecting on the floor near the windows from the storm.
Once Fenris neared the office he could hear some excited conversation. The door was open slightly which must have meant that Murnab was excited, or that one of slaves got careless. Fenris walked stealthily towards the door and listened intently. Murnab was talking to someone, an assassin from the subject of the conversation.
"I want you to kill that Woren girl, Cizrai is her name I believe. She is staying at the Inn of the Everfull Goblet. Make sure that the death looks like Fenris did it."
That's it. The chapter is finished. I hope you liked it and I'll try to post up the next chapter soon. If you think that this is going to be like the Coliseum part from BoF2, then you're wrong. Murnab's a politician, not evil.
By the way, its time for the fact of the chapter: Did you know, that gypsies pass on leadership by cutting their left wrist and then mixing the blood with the person who is taking over, he cut his wrist too by the way. Don't you find that fascinating? I do.
Chapter One: A Gladiator's shot at Redemption
The Coliseum of Dragker was a fairly renowned area. Numerous gladiators from all races and all walks of life entered the games in a search for notoriety, wealth, and possible freedom. The latter was the case of a slave known as Fenris.
He had been found by a group of slavers as a young boy and they, being the kind and gentle slavers they were, sent him to the Pits of Granek. Once there, he was trained to be a part of the glorious slave army that would be the force that conquered the world in the name of the Sorcerer-King Janabis. Unfortunately that plan backfired when he died trying to create a magical artifact to aid in his war. The then teen aged Fenris was sent to Dragker where he faced off against whatever opponents they had in mind for him.
Due to his training he fit right in, he was cold, calculating, and utterly remorseless in the fight. That crowd loved and hated him for his prowess. Where others made a show of rivalry and glamour, he fought to win, and he fought to kill, and today would be no different for him. He was tall, measuring about six feet and was stocky, his mass coming from his muscled form. His black hair was kept shortly trimmed and he kept himself free of facial hair. His brown eyes focused intensely upon the pathway which he would soon walk down and into the arena.
Fenris was buckling on his arm guard, it protected his sword arm while his left was to be protected by the round steel shield hooked to his arm by an eight foot long chain. His torso and legs were covered by steel plates that glittered in the sunlight of the room. His final piece of armor left was his steel campana which, with his head lowered, would provide a second shield against projectiles when he charged.
Fully suited he began the walk towards the arena. The stomp of human feet and the cries of the spectators in excitement grew louder with each footstep. Coliseum guards flanked the walkway, ensuring that no slave would attempt to fight his way out. Fenris kept walking. He could begin to distinguish the crowd's chants.
"FEN-RIS"
"FEN-RIS"
"FEN-RIS"
"FEN-RIS"
Whether or not the cheers were in support or derision didn't matter to the slave. He would win again or die and be released from his bonds. He finally stepped out into the sweltering daylight. The marble walls surrounding him before rising up into the stands were used to dazzle not only the spectators, but the fighters as well. In some of the fights, a resident sorcerer would imbue the walls to flash searing light onto the fighters in a deadly ballet meant to incinerate the unwary. Pieces of debris, some as big as himself, were strewn about the battlefield since some of the fights included archers or sorcerers. Fenris saw his opponent step out of the opening directly opposite to him.
He was a nomad from the Desert of Blades. He was a big man, maybe he was here for the money, or maybe he was an outcast among his people. Fenris shook those thoughts out of his head, to think about the enemy was to make them less of an abstraction, and thusly, making it harder to kill. The more of a human, the less of a fighter.
The nomad pulled out a massive falchion and held it in one hand. Whether this was a sign of the actual strength or merely a gimmick, would have to be seen. The two opponents walked toward each other amidst the cries of the spectators, they had reached a fevered pitch in the excitement to see the blood and violence as the two moved closer together. When they stood no more than five feet from each other the crowd grew silent. The nomad stood at least six and half feet, a half foot taller than Fenris. Fenris, was probably outclassed in strength and body, but those factors mattered little in a fight controlled by a showman. Whether or not the fight would be another choreographic masterpiece would again depend upon the crowd.
For a brief moment everything was still, people dared not breathe. Fenris's muscles tensed in anticipation, he awaited the gong that signified the beginning of the fight. The Nomad tensed too, and crouched down into a better defensive position against a smaller man. Fenris raised his shield...
The signaler began to march solemnly to the tower...
The crowd rubbed their hands and licked their lips...
The nomad gripped his falchion in two hands...
The hammer was raised and fell slamming into the gong, breaking the silence of the world which then erupted in a cacophony of cheers, taunts, war cries, and the clash of steel. The nomad struck first slamming his falchion two handed into Fenris's shield, trying to break it or him. Fenris countered with three quick cuts to measure the speed of the opponent. Each was masterfully blocked and then returned in rapid succession. Low sweeps of the weapons caused the other to jump and attack with an overhead blow. Each fighter moved in a constant state of action and reaction.
The nomad made his first mistake by getting angry, he didn't yell or increase the fury of his attacks, but the tightening in his eyes and the gritting of his teeth gave Fenris the signs he needed. He retreated into a total defensive strategy, each attack was blocked with sword or shield. Each time the nomad left himself open, Fenris let it slide. Fenris saw his chance to attack after a vicious four combo attack leaving both he and the nomad winded. Fenris rushed in after he regained his footing, lunged forward with his sword only to have it blocked. But the sword was a feint, a misleading attack that allowed the nomad to be slammed backward by his shield. The dazed nomad retreated backwards as Fenris continued his rush slashing at his opponent, trying to score a hit. Finally, Fenris fell into a trap his own trap, he had left himself open.
Sensing an opportunity, the nomad brought his falchion up high over his head, leaping into the air preparing to cleave his opponent's skull. Fenris's sword was useless at this point, he couldn't bring it to bear in time and his shield and arm would likely be cut off in an attempt to block. Fenris let out a fierce roar of anger and frustration before rushing the still airborne nomad. The shield-led charge hit the nomad full force and his breathless body was held aloft by the charging Fenris. Fenris's view of what was in front was completely cut off so he charged blindly until he felt the body slam into one of the pieces of debris. An audible snap followed by a collective "OH!" from the crowd, not to mention the now limp weight upon his shield told Fenris that his opponent was either paralyzed by the breaking of his spine, or dead. He let the body fall onto the ground, seeing blood decorate the stone.
Fenris turned away as the crowd began another deafening cheer of his name.
"FEN-RIS"
"FEN-RIS"
"FEN-RIS"
"FEN..." The last part was cut off as he descended once more into the cool underground below the coliseum. Some of the guards saluted him or just nodded their heads in greeting, Fenris just walked by. He arrived in the arming room and saw one of the regular slaves standing in his crisp uniform, apparently awaiting Fenris's arrival.
"Excellent show Fenris. Master Murnab requires your presence after you have washed and changed. He wishes to discuss the next fight." With that, the slave turned on his heels and walked out of the room. Fenris unstrapped his campana and then began to remove the rest of his armor before walking towards his quarters.
Since Fenris enjoyed great renown, he was able to have his own suite complete with bathing pool and own slaves to take care of him. He usually just ignored them and left them to their own devices, they never spoke to him nor tried to be friendly, they were below him in the hierarchy. He tossed off his clothes and waded into the pool, not taking time to relish the continuously warm waters, just cleaning himself off enough to be presentable to Murnab.
Ten minutes later, his bath complete, Fenris clothed himself and began to walk down to the office of the Master of the Coliseum. Murnab had been running the games for over a decade and he was the one who owned Fenris. Murnab ran the games the way he wanted, every fight had a clear outcome for him, he was the puppeteer, and Fenris was his marionette. Each fight had a twist, whether it was the fighters each being told that the other was going to be poisoned, or that a trap was set that only one knew about. Murnab used to be mayor of Dragker until he was ousted out of the political arena and into this one. Now though, with the money the fights brought, and the number of slave warriors under his control, Murnab ran everything about the city. If you were friends with Murnab, you lived in the nicest neighborhoods, had the best protection, and typically gained the most power. If Murnab was your enemy, you'd be lucky if you had food and a shack. Murnab used to be boss of the mayor's office, and then boss of the arena, now he was simply The Boss.
Fenris opened the door into the office and saw Murnab sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair and sipping at a glass of wine. The Boss was a tall thin man with long white hair pulled back into an intricate ponytail. He was dressed in a crisp, blood red doublet with black trimming. His pants were also red with similar black trimming, as far as Fenris knew, Murnab had nothing but red clothes. As soon as Fenris entered, the other slaves exited. Murnab never let any other slaves listen in on these conversations, he didn't want his game plan to be compromised.
Fenris took the seat directly in front of the desk and leaned back waiting for Murnab to reveal his next master plan. "Congratulations on the fight Fenris, I never expected you to be able to bull rush such a man." Murnab congratulated, pausing only to take a sip of wine. "Your next fight will probably be easier, but I want you to put on a real show, make the audience and your opponent real surprised."
"How?" Fenris asked succinctly.
"Your opponent is the Plainsmen Bo. He is the fastest archer in the coliseum, you may have noticed him in one of the marksmen duels. I want you to get shot three times in Bo's traditional style. He will attack you once into you upper arm of you right arm, once again at your left knee, and then a final arrow into the stomach. Then when he closes range, he'll stand exactly ten feet from you. Knock his final arrow and in a coup de grace, he will finish you. Only when he knocks his bow, throw your shield at him, revealing a new trick to the crowd for the first time. Did you get all that?" Murnab finished his explanation of the fight.
Fenris nodded and rose to his feet. The next fight would probably be in the next couple of days. Days where Fenris didn't fight were slow days for him, he rarely saw any action and basically spent his time modifying his armor for the fight and training. The next three days were no different. Fenris attached a lot more padding to his armor in the areas where Bo would shoot him. The morning of the fight dawned and Fenris once again prepared.
The atmosphere of the crowd was different this time. They cheered of course, but they didn't root for one fighter. They were being treated to the only fight of this kind they had ever heard of, what would occur here would determine nothing in the standings, but would provide a lot of amusement for the fans. Fenris knew that he was the underdog in this fight, Bo was expected to dispatch him in his typical quickness, only, Fenris was much better than this Bo character was.
The sun was as high as ever, the marble walls reflected the light with such a rainbow of brilliance, that Fenris dipped his hat slightly so that his eyes were shielded. Bo could be seen standing close to some of the debris, Fenris figured he would make a dash for it and be safe to shoot at him. The crowd grew silent again as Fenris watched the signaler go to his platform. The hammer was raised, it struck the gong, the signal resounded throughout the arena, and the fight began.
Bo fired a shot to measure the reactions of his opponent. Fenris made a show of barely blocking it with his shield. Fenris then drew his sword and rushed the protected archer with his head slightly down to protect his head from arrow shots. His sword arm was wide, providing the bait for Bo and he bit, hook line and sinker. Fenris felt the impact in his arm, harder than he had anticipated, but not injuring. The charge faltered and the sword was dropped.
A second arrow was let loose and Fenris ducked his head completely and brought up his shield, the arrow clanged off his campana but another flew directed into his upper thigh. Staggering onto the ground, Fenris welcomed the final shot. It zoomed in with the same amount of accuracy the previous shots had hit with. Fenris went down to his hands and knees pretending to be prone. Bo strutted forward, Fenris had lost his hat with the pretense that he was breathing harder, and needed the strap undone. He glared up at the Plainsmen, who merely smirked down at him from ten feet away.
"And here I was thinking that you would offer a challenge." Bo said pulling the killing arrow back and knocking it. Fenris waited, sweat running down his forehead, sliding down his nose before reaching the tip. Slowly it collected and dropped splashing into the sand underneath. Fenris exploded into motion hurling his shield at the stunned Bo. The collective sharp intake of breath signified the shock of the crowd, the shield spun towards its target. The bow gave way under the force, snapping in two before the shield itself slammed into Bo's chest knocking all the breath out of him. The Plainsmen slumped to the ground defeated.
Fenris collapsed too, but only for effect. He could feel himself being lifted up and being carried into the passageway leading to his room. He re-exerted control over his body and began walking casually. He pulled the three arrows out, only the one in his stomach had any blood. Tossing the arrows aside, he disarmed himself and stepped into the hallways of the Coliseum.
It was a marvel of the architectural community, marble stone crafted the entire building, magic made it seamless, and the artwork made it timeless. Sunlight came in, casting arched shadows as it came in threw the windows. Fenris continued to walk down the hallways, limping slightly from the puncture wound at his knee, after a few turns and several guards eyeing him askance he made it into the office of Murnab once more.
It was the same as ever except Murnab was not behind his desk sipping a victory glass of wine, but looking at several of his exotic, carnivorous plants. A particularly large specimen had a sparrow trapped in its tendrils and was slowly squeezing the bird to death. Murnab was chuckling slightly at the display, he caressed on of the flowering stalks that would act as a lure in the wild almost fatherly. The Boss caught Fenris in the mirror and turned around smiling. "Another excellent fight!" He said proudly, clapping Fenris soundly on the shoulder. He looked down and noticed the blood slowly running down Fenris's leg. "You should get that looked at, we'll discuss the next fight over dinner." Murnab said before making a dismissing gesture with his left hand.
Fenris limped out again began his trek back to his own room, he would likely get one of his slaves to find a healer while he bathed. Fenris arrived back at his room and sent one of his slaves to go find a healer and another to get his armor and repair it. Fenris removed his clothes and began to bathe again. This time he soaked longer, he was getting tired. He longed for the day when he would finally gain enough money to leave, and then he could do whatever he wanted. Explore the world, fight in other coliseums. Or maybe just sit back, and enjoy the summer breeze from a good vantage point.
A healer walked in, Fenris was slightly surprised by the lack of a knock, but he would live with it. It was an older man who leaned upon a cane slightly. "It was a good fight today Master Fenris. If you would step out of the pool I'll be able to bandage you up quite nicely." He said in a mild voice. Fenris stood up and grabbed a robe from the wall and sat down on the bench. The healer bent over slightly and rubbed some sort of poultice onto the wound. Fenris gritted his teeth at the sensation but didn't cry out. With the poultice on, nothing was left but to bandage it and wait. The healer left after bidding his goodbye and Fenris was left to whittle away another few hours.
Nothing much happened, Fenris sat in a daze and looked up at the ceiling. Images danced across it in response to his imagination's prodding. Shadowy figures that were his parents played in front of his mind as he thought about what his parents might have been like, or what he dreamt his parents were like. He pushed such thoughts away and began to get dressed for the dinner with Murnab. He wore the same simple clothes that all slaves wore when in his position. He walked down the halls, barely limping, the poultice had done its work and he now had almost his normal mobility.
He entered into the office and saw no one inside. He continued to walk through, the carnivorous plant hissed slightly, how it could was a mystery to him, but he steered clear of it. He was about to go into the back room when he heard a conversation. He immediately recognized Murnab's voice laughing slightly, the other voice he couldn't quite place. Fenris leaned in closer and tried to distinguish more of the conversation.
"An excellent idea!" *Murnab.*
"I hope that this Fenris of yours can win, it would make for excellent rematch material." *There's the unknown guy.*
"You have nothing to worry about, Fenris is unstoppable." Murnab answered, the two laughed and Fenris could hear them beginning to go towards the door. Fenris straightened himself and moved over to the plants. He tried his best to look casual when Murnab and his guest came out. The second man was dressed in finely crafted mail armor. A black cloak went down to about his calves and his arms and legs were covered in metal plates. He also carried a sword, something that no one except guards had the privilege of carrying, this man would likely to prove dangerous. In the time it took for Fenris to examine this man, he was already leaving, with Fenris being led into the banquet hall where a sumptuous dinner was laid before him.
He sat down directly opposite to the man who would control his fate for the next fight. The food smelled appetizing, Fenris went through the first course of soup quickly, paying for it with a burned mouth. Murnab did not choose to speak. The second course of salad was eaten, more leisurely now by Fenris who kept his eyes on the still silent Murnab. Fenris grabbed the glass of wine and gulped it down while the slave placed a dish of roasted herd beast before him. Fenris dived into this same dish all the while beginning to grow nervous. His arena was the fight, not some dinner with a politician.
At last, when the food was done and the wine drained, Murnab chose to speak. "Your next fight will be against this Woren girl. You've probably heard about her from the other competitors, she is the most popular fighter we have. I want you to beat her, but don't kill her." Murnab said without any of his old kind of flare, he said these words without any of his normal inflection, he just stated them. Fenris was even more nervous than he was when he listened in to the conversation. *I guess I know what they were referring to when they were talking about the fight.* Fenris rose and walked out of the banquet hall, through the office, and straight back to his room. Along the way he bumped into his previous opponent Bo.
"Hey dude! That was one hell of a trick you pulled!" Bo said in a deep voice, which was filled with a kind of exuberance. Fenris was kind of taken aback by this display of joviality. Bo offered his furry hand in a handshake which Fenris took, albeit reluctantly. Bo basically steered Fenris down the hall and struck up a conversation with him regardless of whether or not Fenris wanted to come with him.
"I have to admit, I never would have thought of someone using a trick like that. Where'd you learn it?" Bo asked peering down at him, he was tall like all other Plainsmen, his canine face was questioning but before Fenris could open his mouth to reply Bo went down off another path of conversation. "I was amazed when I first arrived at this place. I never thought that a town could be so big. My hometown was much smaller than this place. You could probably fit my hometown into a corner of this city..." On and on he talked, Fenris could barely keep up with the fast talking archer.
They eventually reached the main gallery of the Coliseum. A few of the fighters were standing around or reclining in some of the couches scattered about the room. A trained musician slave was always present at this room, strumming on a harp or some other instrument. Today, a big commotion was centered upon this Woren girl in the middle of a group of fans all searching for an autograph. Bo stopped his yammering and pointed directly at her.
"Hey dude look, it's Cizrai. (That C's pronounced like a K.) I hear that she's the best, simply put, all around best." That comment was said without any of his usual exuberance or speed. Bo actually seethed in this girl's presence, especially now that she was smiling and laughing. Fenris snorted at the comment.
"They may say she's the best, but she hasn't fought me yet. Actually, I think that she's my next opponent." Fenris said finally pulling free of the now shocked Bo. Everyone seemed shocked by that comment, the fans around the Woren girl were quiet and gawking at him. The Woren girl was also looking at him, though she looked like she was sizing him up for the fight.
"Dude, she'll kill you!" Bo blurted out, once he saw Fenris's hard stare back at him he amended his statement. "I know your good and all that, but she's faster than my arrows sometimes!" Fenris snorted in derision of the comment, he could take anything the Boss would throw at him.
Fenris heard someone clearing their throat and turned to look down at the diminutive girl. She was probably only five-four, five-five tops. She was also probably ten years his junior as he neared his third decade and she was not even at her second. She was dressed in a sort of cross between a dominatrix corset and armor. It was black leather showing off a curvaceous body that was covered in chainmail to protect her torso. Her arms and shins also had metal plates to protect her.
"Can I help you?" Fenris asked looking down at her. She wouldn't pose a threat to him, the crowd probably liked her since she looked like a whore. A violent whore, but a whore none the less.
"So, you're the great Fenris that I'm supposed to be fighting? You don't look that tough." She said in a purring sort of voice, most Worens had that kind of voice though she seemed to have tried to break it.
"Kid, looks have nothing to do with your opponent. I'll tell you what, if you're still alive after our fight, I'll give you a few pointers on how to win." Fenris said perfectly sincere. The crowd and Cizrai thought that he was being patronizing. The crowd began to mutter to themselves and Cizrai looked ready to knock him off his feet.
Fenris scowled at the people for misinterpreting his comment and turned away, walking back to his room. "Don't turn your back on me you bastard! When we fight, I'll send you crying back home to your momma!" Cizrai shouted at his back. Fenris continued to walk away, he could hear Bo running to catch up with him.
"Hey dude, slow down!" He yelled at walking Fenris. "Do you really think you can beat her?" He asked in the same seething tone he had when he referred to Cizrai last time.
"Yes." Fenris said succinctly.
"Ah dude if you could do that, you'd be the best, not only that, you would have an eternal place in my heart for knocking that Woren down a few pegs." Bo said, returning to his past exuberance.
Fenris stopped and opened the door to his room. "I'll see you some other time, right now, I'm going to bed." Bo smiled and was about to respond except the door got closed in his face by an antisocial Fenris. Fenris got undressed and went to sleep. He didn't dream, he almost never did.
The next few days went by in a flash. Most of the fights in those days barely had any attendance, everyone was talking about the show down between Cizrai and Fenris. Most of the money was on Cizrai and most of the posters advertising for the fight had Cizrai as the main fighter, Fenris was practically fine print. He saw Bo every so often and tried to avoid him or at least dissuade Plainsmen from ever talking to him again. It didn't work.
The day of the fight dawned with iron grey storm clouds looming in the distance. The fight was set for noon, and by that time it would be storming fiercely. *At least I don't have to worry about them using the reflecting walls to incinerate me.* Fenris dressed and made sure everything was in order with the Fight Coordinator, his armor was down there and everything was ready for the fight. Typically Murnab would speak with him before a fight as important as this one but he was uncharacteristically silent.
Noon began to near and Fenris began walking towards the arming room. The people who passed him in the halls taunted and jeered at him but he ignored their slander and kept on walking. Once he got to the arming room and spotted Bo leaning against the wall. "Good luck dude, at least one person will be rooting for you." He said laughing slightly. Fenris nodded in greeting and thanks and walked into the room. He began to dress, this was a big fight because he could hear the crowd from inside of here. The armor came on and then he belted the sword and shield to his arms. Then he began the walk towards the arena, the crowd grew louder and louder, after only a score of steps, he could hear their chants.
"CIZRAI!"
"CIZRAI!"
"CIZRAI!"
"CIZRAI!"
"CIZRAI!"
"CIZRAI!"
On and on the chanting went until he reached the open arena. Rain was just beginning to fall, hard. The water hitting his campana and other armor was loud in his own ears, but not nearly as loud as the overwhelming support the crowd had for the Woren girl. He spotted her across the intervening distance and could see her waving to the crowd even though she was soaking wet.
Fenris began to walk forward through the rain, growing more and more soaked as he progressed. Cizrai started to walk forward too, though at a much slower and haughtier pace. She got within eight feet and smirked at him. The scene could have been comical with her fur drenched and matted to her body, but there was a good chance one of them would die, taking away from any mirth Fenris might have had. The crowd grew silent all of a sudden and Fenris glanced over to see Murnab underneath a blood red canopy getting ready to deliver a speech to the crowd. He rarely did this.
"Spectators! It is a rare occasion in which we are able to see such warriors! That is why it gives me great pleasure to begin this fight and let it once and for all be decided who the champion of this arena is!" Murnab shouted and the crowd roared in excitement. Murnab gestured with his hand and the gong was struck.
The two circled each other, neither wanting to make the first attack. Cizrai had a large spear typically wielded by samnites or centurions. It had a curved blade in front with a cast iron other end piece that could crack skulls. She finally let out a war cry and lunged at him. Fenris batted it aside with his shield and thrust forward with his spear to have it deflected in turn. Cizrai followed through the deflection with a second attack that was caught on his shield. Fenris tried to throw her back and thrust free but she proved much stronger than he thought. He eventually gave up his original ideal and shoved it to the side beginning a series of slashes that were each intercepted by the middle of the staff.
The sword strokes fell with such strength that the wood was beginning to chip away under the blows. After five strokes Cizrai retaliated with two quick strikes with either end of her spear. Each was deflected by sword or shield but the true intent became apparent when she kicked him hard in the chest, sending him sprawling into the sand. Briefly dazed, Fenris saw Cizrai preparing the coup de grace, leaving herself open was just what Fenris needed to get back in the fight. He kicked her hard in the stomach, she let out an explosion of breath before she stumbled backwards. Fenris rolled to his feet and rushed the still reeling Woren. He thrust forward, set to impale her but she dove to the side and rolled back to her feet.
Fenris smiled and unleashed his ace in the hole. He threw his shield out and caught her in the stomach again. Fenris unhooked the chain from his arm and sacrificed his shield for the attack. He also unhooked his campana as it was becoming a bother. The water fell down onto his head for the first time, and the water began to run down his face slightly obscuring his vision. Cizrai was just now getting to her feet, Fenris stopped, not wanting to fall for a leg sweep. Just when he stopped he heard something click beneath him. *Trap!* Fenris jumped back just as a set of giant spears erupted from the ground. "So they decided to spring the traps." Fenris said smiling, he had been in a few other trap battles to get a general idea of where things were.
Cizrai had no such advantage. She had gotten to her feet but was now staring around her, trying to discover the path to take to get to Fenris. She was about to charge around the spikes but stopped after one step when Fenris smiled. She glared at him and went the other way. *I can fool her so easily, she has no idea how the traps are set up.* Fenris waited for Cizrai to almost be around the spikes and then he moved and used them as a buffer. He started to laugh at her from behind the safety of the buffer.
"You fucking coward! You weren't acting so tough when I was winning! Stop running and fight!" Cizrai shouted at him, attempted to catch him as she rushed around the corner again.
"Why waste the energy to fight you when I can lead you into a trap?" Fenris asked still laughing. Cizrai stopped dead at that comment, Fenris seized the moment to jog over and grab his shield. Cizrai was warily stalking towards him, she didn't want to spring another trap though she was sure there was nothing in her way.
Fenris began to walk slowly backwards, circling around and imaginary trap or two, always keeping his eyes upon Cizrai. The closest trap to him was directly to his left, probably only a foot away. Cizrai sneered at him and charged as fast as she could. *She is pretty fast.* Fenris thought as she rushed towards him. Fenris brought back his shield arm and threw it with all his might. She leapt over it nimbly but landed straight into a pit trap.
The entire crowd was shocked, they had never thought that this fight would end like this. Here was one of the best fighters letting the traps do his dirty work. "All too easy." He said simply as he walked over to the pit. He looked down at Cizrai who was nursing what looked like a broken ankle. She glared up at him from the moment she noticed him.
"You bastard! You fucking bastard! Next time we fight I will rip out your intestines and make a new scarf out of them! You here me! Don't you walk away you impotent fuck!" Fenris started laughing at the entire situation. This was the one place where he could let himself be free. He strolled out of the arena amidst the jeers of the audience though here and there he could hear some hands clapping.
He walked casually into the arming room and began to unbuckle his armor, some slave would pick up his items. Once he got into the room he spotted another messenger awaiting him. "Murnab wants to see you in his office as soon as you've removed you armor." He said before he turned on his heel and left.
Fenris unbuckled his armor plates and walked into the hallway to immediately get accosted by Bo. He clapped him hard on the shoulder and began whooping and congratulating him all at once and Fenris was just plain confused.
"Look Bo, I know you're happy for me but I need to talk to Murnab immediately." Fenris said once he was able to get a word in edgewise. Bo sobered up once he heard that name and simply said goodbye before turning around and running off someplace. *Maybe he betted on me.* Fenris thought as he walked towards Murnab's office. Rain water had been collecting on the floor near the windows from the storm.
Once Fenris neared the office he could hear some excited conversation. The door was open slightly which must have meant that Murnab was excited, or that one of slaves got careless. Fenris walked stealthily towards the door and listened intently. Murnab was talking to someone, an assassin from the subject of the conversation.
"I want you to kill that Woren girl, Cizrai is her name I believe. She is staying at the Inn of the Everfull Goblet. Make sure that the death looks like Fenris did it."
That's it. The chapter is finished. I hope you liked it and I'll try to post up the next chapter soon. If you think that this is going to be like the Coliseum part from BoF2, then you're wrong. Murnab's a politician, not evil.
By the way, its time for the fact of the chapter: Did you know, that gypsies pass on leadership by cutting their left wrist and then mixing the blood with the person who is taking over, he cut his wrist too by the way. Don't you find that fascinating? I do.
