((Back with another exciting installment here folks. Been away from this for a while but I played Oblivion this weekend and inspiration struck once more. Will try to be more regular with updates now but no promises. Life been real busy lately. Anyway, enough yammering lets go. This chapter features a guest appearance from the star of another fanfic on here))
-8-
Hazim cursed soundly as he splashed the mop down for the thousandth time upon the eternally fouled floor of the Bloodworks. He was directly below the center of the arena as well, where the blood was more a rain than a trickle. His hair and shoulders were already red with the substance. It was completely ridiculous! There was no sense in mopping up blood when blood was dripping from above, the only thing that he saw that he had thus accomplish was making the floor even grimier and filthier than ever for as much times as the mopping waters were changed they soon become foul once more.
"This is dumb." He complained to Oriel who was mopping beside him. The two of them had been assigned that particularly sector to mop in what appeared to be an extra form punishment. "Its impossible!"
Oriel straightened up and rolled his neck to work the kinks out. He leaned on his mop and then flashed his trademark cheery grin in Hazim's direction.
"Wouldn't be much punishment if it was easy was it?" He pointed out. "As it is we should still count ourselves lucky. Brawling with other combatants outside the arena is a pretty serious offense. Owyn killed the last two combatants who did that, I thought we found him in a pretty good mood."
"But we didn't start it." Hazim growled as he resumed his mopping. "All we did was defend ourselves."
"I'm pretty sure Aquila and his gang told the same story." Oriel answered with a laugh. "In reverse. And where would you find witnesses to tell the truth? The type of folk who frequents the Bloated Float aren't really known to come forward to volunteer information."
Hazim lapse into dark muttering but said nothing more. He well recalled the previous day when he had returned to the Bloodworks only to find Owyn patiently awaiting him. The enraged blademaster had cursed Hazim in two languages, had insinuated that Hazim was so stupid that one of his ancestors had surely bedded a Troll, and had threatened Hazim with death and then with grievous bodily harm in that order. Hazim had trembled with rage but had managed to hold his tongue through the entire tirade until Owyn had assigned him to the nonsensical and impossible task. It was only then that Hazim had exploded and his words just kept on coming. But all that did was earn him several more days of the drudgery. The sheer unfairness of it all still rankled. If he ever met this Aquilla in the arena Hazim swore he would make his suffering long and hard before finally sending him to join his brother. The thought cheered him up a little as he once again sloshed the dirty mop back and forth in a vain attempt to mop up blood. From above there was raucous cheering and whistling, Hazim cocked his head to side and froze as he listened. Trying to glean some detail of who had won. There was none to be had however as the words of the announcer were so muffled he could not hear them. After a minute Hazim shrugged and went back to his mopping. None of his friends had been fighting that day so he couldn't bring himself to care overmuch; it was the nature of the arena, two entered and one left and the other was carted out.
"How long has Owyn banned you from fighting?" Oriel asked suddenly.
"Three weeks." Hazim growled in reply growing angry once more. It was the cruelest act of all. The latest fight would be Hazim's third ranked match. An arena combatant fought two types of matches in the arena, exhibitions and ranked. An exhibition fight was what the combatant would be fighting the majority of the time but when Owyn and Grand Matron Ysabel Andronicus decided that a combatant was suitably well liked a ranked match was then provided. As a rule they were generally much harder than exhibition matches but winning three ranked matches allowed a combatant to increase in rank, it was how one became Grand Champion. Hazim knew that as a new comer he was at the very lowest rank which was Pit Dog. He had won two ranked matches, against the Wood Elf in his very first fight and against Marius Aquila, winning the third would promote him to a Brawler which meant better pay and more exposure. Owyn knew that Hazim wanted this match more than anything else so figured the surly spiteful blademaster would keep it out of his reach for an extra three weeks.
"That's good then." Oriel said with another smile. "It means that you can assist me tomorrow night. How would you like a bit of extra coin?"
Hazim grimaced but nodded his head. He could certainly use the extra coin. He had been in the arena for a couple of months and still had yet to gather up enough coin for a proper outfit. Pit dogs were not exactly lavishly paid. His helmet and shield were passable but far from the best quality and they required repairs to booth, if he planned on competing at the higher levels using such equipment as that would be a death wish. A couple of health and stamina brews from the alchemist wouldn't be amiss neither, Hazim had seen on more than once occasion those tiny vials of liquid proof the difference between life and death. If truth be told he also wouldn't mind a few private lessons from Ida Vlinorman in acrobatics and from the armourer Varnado on heavy armor on a whole. However those too would cost septims. So it was that the mention of extra money definitely caught his attention.
"What do you have in mind?" Hazim asked a bit cautiously. Even though he would like extra coin nothing was going to get him to willing break the law again. He did not fancy another run in with the insane guard captain Hieronymus Lex. The thought of the last one still made him shudder. Hazim was quite prepared to forget the whole affair and pretend that it had never occurred but he had sinking feeling that it would not be so easily solved. Something told him he had involved himself in things that he did not fully comprehend and would soon be made to pay the price. It served him right, how often had he been told that no good ever came of lying? He cursed his cowardice for not telling the truth while he had the chance and just accepting whatever consequences had then ensued.
"No need to sound so," Oriel said with a laugh. "Nothing that is going to put us on the wrong side of the watch. In fact it may even put us back in their good graces after the night before. Yesterday morning I had a missive from the Fighter's Guild."
"The Fighter's Guild?" Hazim inquired bewildered. He of course had heard of the league of likeminded warriors who were based all throughout Cyrodil. Few were the natives of Cyrodil who had not heard of them actually. Hazim knew that they contracted themselves to anyone who could afford it and took almost any contract within the boundaries of the law, from escort missions to clearing out skeever infestations. The Fighter's Guild was especially endeared in small villages such as the one that Hazim was from; villages which were not large enough to field their own Watch force. Still the young Redguard failed to see what they had to do with arena fighters. He said as much and Oriel chuckled in reply.
"Normally nothing," The Dark Elf answered. "But from time to time when the Guild is swimming in contracts they contract freelancers to help them up."
"I've never heard that." Hazim said musingly.
"Its not a fact that they make a habit of bandying about. Bad for business see. So they mostly only offer to people they have worked with in the past before. But yeah from time to time they do offer a freelance contract. Especially here in and around the Imperial City as they do not have a headquarters here. So when they can't get someone over they hire a couple of us Arena rouges to do their dirty work."
"And you were given such a contract?" Hazim pieced together.
"Aye. But the missive said that it's a bit big for one man to tackle. It told me to bring as many men as I could. I figure the two of us were up to it. You in?"
"Yes." Hazim replied with a grin.
His good mood soon vanished when Owyn's yells resounding through the Bloodworks ordering them to get back to mopping.
-8-
The two arena combatants met the Fighter's Guild representative a little after midday within the crowded Market District. She was standing before a shabby food stall deep in conversation with the owner. Even without Oriel's nudge Hazim could have told that the woman was who they were looking for. Even without the arm holding a sword and two stars insignia that was tied around her left bicep by a leather strap, he would have figured her for a Fighter's Guild member. She had a warrior's bearing and a warrior's presence. She stood firm and upright, her shoulders poised and straight; giving her an air of immense height even though she only came up to Hazim's chest. Despite this she held herself light on her feet, as if she was always ready for movement at a moment's notice. Hazim would describe her as pretty enough, she had green eyes and dirty blonde hair cut short in a practical no nonsense manner. She had the complexion of a Redguard albeit lighter than any of his folk that Hazim had ever met and few indeed were the Redguards who boasted blonde hair and green eyes. Hazim brushed past that to take in the rest of her appearance, he noted that despite her stature her figure was slender but unmistakably womanly. The arms that showed from her sleeveless leather cuirass were toned and tanned and held a smattering of scars. The rest of her outfit consisted of plain trousers and thigh hugging leather boots. A plain hilted short sword rode upon her hip with an assortment of pouches and small bags and the hilt of a longsword peeped up above her right shoulder.
She raised a hand to Oriel in salute. The Dunmer smiled in genuine delight and returned the gesture.
"Sharah," Oriel said smiling. "Its good to see you."
"Likewise old friend." The woman replied with an answering smile.
"Hazim of Water's Edge meet Sharah the Wolf." Oriel introduced. "Sharah meet Hazim, he's the latest Blue Team recruit. A natural born fighter, most Redguards are. He might be your equal." The last was said teasingly. The two laughed at that but not derisively. Hazim merely smiled tightly and nodded his head politely.
"A while back Sharah here used to spill a bit of blood on the sands too." The Dunmer explained to Hazim. "She was one of the best the Blue Team ever had. Undefeated obviously. Made it all the way to Hero rank if I recall. Then she got too uppity and decided she rather her Fighter's Guild to us lowly combatants."
He flashed mocking eyes back on his old companion who merely smiled and shrugged.
"I had always planned to return to claim the title grand champion," She protested. "But I've been so busy. Is Brunhilda still strutting about like she owns the place?"
"More than ever." Oriel answered darkly. "And she has the stuff to back it up. Whatever else she may be she's a demon with that claymore of hers."
"Maybe Hazim here will be the one to take her out." Sharah said waving a hand towards the other Redguard.
"Maybe." Oriel laughed pounding Hazim on the back. Hazim gave his friend a surly look which cause Oriel's laughter to redouble.
"Hate to cut us short old friend," Sharah said in a down to business voice. "But I have little enough time. I got four more contracts to issue and I must reach Bravil by Lordas." She rummaged around in the pouches at her side and then withdrew a sealed scroll. Upon the wax of the seal was impressed the shield emblem of the Fighter's Guild.
"This is the contract. Its simple enough. From reports gathered there appears to be an Ogre down in the sewers. Perhaps more than one. The local populace are willing put up with the occasional goblin or thief scurrying down below them but the bellows of a Ogre has got many residents unnerved. Normally the legion would make quick work of this sort of thing but they are otherwise preoccupied and are unable to spare the manpower. Thus we have been contracted but as luck would have it we ourselves are currently unable to spare the manpower as well."
Sharah's mouth twisted wryly at that and Hazim knew there was more to the situation but he did not know the woman well enough to ask.
"Thus you have been contracted. Ogres aren't the smartest creatures in the world nor the stealthiest so they should be easily tracked but careful when you've caught up to them. They're no mean fighters and deadly in a melee."
"How much?" Oriel asked accepting the scroll.
"Four hundred septims." Sharah replied.
Hazim smiled in appreciation. While it was no fortune it was infinitely more than the fifty septims a match he was currently making as an arena pitdog. If this was the type of money that was being tossed around on a casual basis than Hazim could definitely see why one would leave the arena sands for the Fighter's Guild. Of course there was major money to be made in the Arena as well but one just had to survive long enough upon the sands to start collecting it.
"Okay Wolf," Oriel said stowing the scroll away. "We got it covered."
"Excellent." Sharah said briskly. "When you're finished deliver the scroll and the troll heads to the palace. The steward there shall disperse to you the payment I left."
When they had both declared their understanding Sharah gave them both a polite nod and left.
"Some women eh?" Oriel commented after they were halfway back to the Bloodworks.
The duo had decided to handle the contract after sunset because Oriel vaguely recalled Ogres being nocturnal. Hazim did not see how it mattered what time it was when one was underground away from the moon and the sun but he kept his views to himself.
"Hmm?" Hazim replied jolted out of his revere.
"Sharah. Some woman isn't she?"
"Yeah." Hazim grunted noncommittally. "I guess."
He found himself more interested in the woman's combat prowess than her looks. He did not see how so small a woman could be so powerful but he was not dumb enough to underestimate her, no one who progressed as high as Hero of the arena could be anything other than completely fearsome in battle. It meant at the very least she had defeated and killed at least twenty proven warriors as it would take that many ranked matches to advance so far, it was quite likely she had defeated and killed even more in regular unranked matches as well. They chatted amicably for a few more minutes until they pass through the great iron gates which led from the Market District and through thick fortifications into the lush greenness of the Arena District. The duo found themselves face to many face with an excited and exceedingly noisy mob of people. Hazim saw that the entire mob was congregating around a particular unhappy looking figure the way that bees buzzed around a flower. After a second glance at the figure he could see why.
It was an Orc but unlike any of the Bosmer folk that Hazim had ever encountered before. This Orc looked like he could be on the face of a poster advertising the Arena. He was short, about a head shorter than Hazim but even broader and more defined than the strapping young Redguard. His head was bared except for wings of inky black and a top knot of the same color in the exact center. Like any Orc he had a face that could only be described as brutal. A snoutlike nose with flaring nostrils, long tapered ears, and close set piggy eyes. This particular Orc's eyes were pitch black to the point of being eerie. He also had skin unlike any that Hazim had ever seen before. It was a pale shade of green that was almost gray. The Orc wore arena raiment in the heavy armor fashion but the metal was gilded in the resemblance of gold and the motif was neither blue nor yellow; it was crimson and it glimmered visibly with enchantments the likes of which Hazim could only guess at. A longsword in a sheath of gold and with an ebony hilt ornately engraved and shining with jewels was buckled at his waist, the hilt of the sword shimmered with magic as well.
Hazim had never seen him before but he knew exactly who the Orc was even before Oriel called it out. Over the past ten years everyone in Cyrodiil had heard of this Orc at least in passing, whether they were fans of the Arena or not.
"Agronak gro-Malog!" Oriel shouted out with a delighted smile. "The Gray Prince! As I live and breathe!"
This is what a champion looks like. Hazim thought awed as the Grand Champion of the Arena managed to wiggle his way out of the circle of his unwanted entourage with what appeared to be great relief. Hazim's heart even sped up when the Grey Prince then approached them. His mouth felt dry. Here was a story, a fantasy, come to life. It suddenly dawned on Hazim how far he had come from the backwater village in which he had grown up. There were some in Water's Edge who even doubted at the Gray Prince's existence, now Hazim was here standing before him in the flesh. He shivered from an inadvertent chill. Oriel and Agronak clasped forearms like old friends.
"How was Kvatch?" Oriel inquired.
"The food was awful and the competition even worst." The Gray Prince complained. "Almost a half year spent with nary a good challenge. By the Nine its good to be home."
"Its good to have you back old friend." Oriel replied before beckoning towards Hazim. "Meet the blue team's latest. Hazim of Water's Edge. The pretty blade of his isn't just for decoration either. He can use it. Maybe soon you'll be taking his measure for yourself."
Hazim stiffened as the Gray Prince's eyes fell upon him for the first time. It was a warrior's glance, dissecting and cataloging every inch of Hazim's appearance within a split second. When he was finished with his scrutiny Agronak gro-Malog smiled and nodded his head politely.
"Maybe I will at that." He said good-naturedly. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Hazim."
"Likewise." The young Redguard managed to croak out.
"Its been a pleasant chat," The Gray Prince sad suddenly. "But I don't think I'll have a better chance than this. I'll catch up with you guys in the Bloodworks later. For now I need a drink. A quiet drink if you catch my drift." He rolled his eyes towards the eagerly awaiting mob. Then suddenly he ducked in between Hazim and Oriel and launched himself into an all out sprint. Quick as a flash he was through the gate leading to the Market District. Some members of the crowd had noticed the Prince's flight and gave a howl and immediately began giving chase. The rest of the mob soon followed suit. It was only by jumping aside did the young Redguard and Dunmer avoid being trampled by the band of obsessed fans. It was only by a fierce strength of will that Hazim did not rush to join them.
"I see from you're expression you've heard of him." Oriel laughed as he continued through the grounds towards the Arena.
"He's the greatest combatant to ever tread the sands." Hazim said breathlessly. "He's been Grand Champion for almost a dozen years now. A feat unheard of since the days of Gaiden Shinji!"
"Next you'll be quoting his stats." The Dunmer teased. Hazim huffed and made no reply as Oriel laughed in his good-natured manner. Inside he was still reeling though. The Gray Prince, he thought excitedly. I've met the Gray Prince! He thought how it might feel to be in Agronak's place. To be lauded from Cheydinhal to Bravil, to be unable to even step out unto the street without being mobbed by adoring fans. The thought made him smile to himself.
-8-
The goblin opened its maw and screeched so loudly that Hazim felt as if his eardrums would rupture. It was a stunted looking creature, only coming up to Hazim's waist and both its arms and legs while spidery long were twig like and knobby. The vermin was a sickly yellow in color and had big bulbous red eyes. As it yowled Hazim couldn't help but stare within the beast's mouth, the diseased looking purple tongue and the yellow and broken salvia dripping fangs made him cringe. Under no circumstances would this thing be allowed to bite him. Fortunately the monster seemed to have other plans. It lunged with a long spear, the blade was rusted and pitted from use. Hazim spotted a dull red substance on it which might have been old blood. The young Redguard nimbly twisted his body to the left and the spear which would have impaled him instead passed him harmlessly by, Hazim then swept his own blade down with all his might. The keen silver edge of Hazim's sword sliced through the haft of the spear like a knife through butter. The goblin backed up blinking stupidly at the useless stick he now held in his hands. Hazim advanced sword raised for the kill but before he could take another step a familiar twang resounded and a black shaft appeared between the little monster's eyes. For a second the beast glanced cross-eyed at the arrow embedded deeply within its head. Then it slumped to the floor lifeless.
"Twelve!" Oriel announced triumphantly stalking forward.
Hazim gave his comrade a dark look. He would have slain the goblin without assistance. The tricky little Dunmer had stolen Hazim's kill!
"No need to looks so glum friend Hazim." Oriel said with a laugh as he stooped beside the goblin and quickly began sawing at its ear with a dagger from his belt. "From the sound of it there will be plenty more to go around."
Hazim cocked his head to the side and listened, from the sound of yowls and screeches that were getting closer and closer the young Redguard was inclined to agree. He sighed deeply and took a couple of deep breaths to try and still his racing heart. He at once regretted it. Taking deep breaths within the sewers beneath the Imperial City was not a particularly smart move. The youth at once fell to coughing and gagging as the thick miasma of bodily excrement filled his nostrils and lungs. This deep into the sewer the scent was even fouler if that was possible.
"Certainly clears the head doesn't it." The Dunmer commented lightly as he straightened up. He held up the pair of bloody caked ears with a flourish. "Look alive now. Here comes more walking septims."
Hazim spun around holding his torch high. Sure enough the torchlight dully reflected from a multitude of fiery red eyes as more and more goblins came tromping into view. At least five the little monsters came gibbering and yammering into sight.
"Easy enough." Oriel announced. Hazim heard the strum of a bowstring. "You take the two on the left and I'll take the two on the right and we'll kill the last together."
Hazim was about to agree when he heard a yowling call off to the left. He quickly spun in that direction and raised his torch high above head. Through another archway another band of goblins were trailing in. They were ten of them and unlike the first five that were only dressed in filthy skins wrapped around their genitals and armed only with their fangs and claws these were armored in crude leathers and carried ugly looking clubs and short swords. Hazim gulped and felt the tingle of fear gnawing at his guts.
"We can take them." Oriel said from behind; though there was definitely an undercurrent of uncertainty to his voice now.
There was a guttural bellow from directly behind, the direction from which the two had come. Hazim quickly spun around, casting the glare of his torch into that direction. He almost wished that he hadn't. The sight that awaited him was one that he could have cheerfully gone the rest of his life without experiencing. Another gaggle of goblins had cut off their retreat. At the head of this newest arrival was the largest goblin Hazim had ever seen. This particular monster was the size of a man and muscled like a blacksmith. It wore battered but sturdy looking black iron armor and he carried a very ugly and very lethal looking war hammer. If that wasn't enough this goblin frothed at the mouth as if deceased or crazed. It took a step forward lifted its great hammer and bellowed loudly. The call was repeated by every goblin present.
"Run?" Hazim heard Oriel croak.
"Run." Hazim agreed softly. His throat was suddenly dry and his knees were weak. He knew he was very close to dying within this out of way foul smelling place. It was not something that he was looking forward to. Hazim turned and fled in the only direction possible; deeper within the labyrinth like sewers. From behind there were yowls of frustration and rage. It only spurred Hazim on to greater speed.
-8-
((And that brings us to the end of another chapter. Cliff hanger I know. It will be worth it though. xD. For those of you who don't know Sharah the Wolf is the protagonist of LadyDragon1316 LadyDragon1316's works Shadow of the Wolf and Wolf of Cydoril; those two fanfics are among the best works I've ever read period and I'd advise anyone who haven't read it yet to check it out.))