Author's Notes: Hey everyone, I am glad you liked the last chapter and I hope you like this one as well

Karl was in the prison for three days, at least he thought it was three days, it was hard to tell in the room, lit as it was only by the fire. Periodically slaves came to bring food and add fuel to the fire. The food was not the best but it was far better than what he had eaten on the pirate ship, Lord Aranor clearly valued these slaves more than the mass that had been unloaded from ship. Not having anything else to do he talked with the other gladiators.

Father Wilfred was the easiest one to talk to, both of them being from the Empire and sharing a common langue and culture. Though Wilfred clearly no longer believed that he would ever leave the land of the Dark Elves he was determined to keep fighting in his own way.

"It is simple." He told Karl during their first conversation; "By surviving we win. Yes, when we fight out there we are doing so for their enjoyment. But every now and then they throw you against something that they want you to lose to and if you win they hurt them." Karl had not understood so Wilfred had explained; "Every now and again the Druchii enter the ring, as they did with you, or monsters that they take to war. Every one of those you kill is one less that can go to war against other lands, including the Empire. You may never see the Empire again but you are still fighting for it."

Sir Coty was friendly but at times distant. The battle that he had been captured in had been his first and he was still shaken by it. He confessed that he was still plagued with doubt. Had he not been skilled enough? Why had the Lady of the Lake, the goddess of his land, forsaken him in his hour of need? Had he failed her in some way? He could not answer those questions and that was what drove him in the arena, trying to find answers if only for himself. In many ways he reminded Karl of Ernst.

The dwarf never spoke and no one present knew his name. He spent most of his time staring mournfully into the fire. Every time the door opened he looked up hopefully and always looked disappointed when it was only the slaves with food. Wilfred told Karl that he believed the Dark Elves had done something to the dwarf that prevented his beard from growing back after they shaved it off.

He said that as the beard was a matter of great pride to the dwarfs he had probably taken the Slayer Oath. At Karl's look of incomprehension Wilfred had explained that when a dwarf suffered a great shame they took an oath to die heroically in battle to gain absolution for their shame. That was why he only looked happy when it was his turn to fight, each fight was a new chance to die and free himself of his shame.

Agliar was silent and rarely spoke. He let Karl know in no uncertain terms that he had little interest of speaking with him.

"You will likely die soon anyway so getting to know you is a waste of time. Besides you are doubtless just like the others."

"What do you mean?" Karl had asked.

"That you are weak, all your kind are. Look at those here. The old man tells himself that he is still helping the Empire, a lie he tells himself keep from admitting to himself that he has given up. The boy is so lost in self-doubt that it is a wonder that he hasn't died already. The dwarf is lost in his own misery and just wants to die. The woman is filth from the north, more of an animal than anything else, ruled by her base instincts.

"I will not die here. I will not accept that and that is why my people will always outshine yours. We alone do not give in to our base natures or to despair."

While Karl could argue with more than one point of that statement he could not argue with it as far as Yuviel was concerned. The Norscan woman repelled him. He and the others all avoided her but this did not seem to upset her. If anything she seemed to take a great deal of pleasure from their dislike of her. She would position herself out of their reach and then launch into long monologues on her many raids on their lands. To hear her talk she had personally raided every land in the known world and killed so many men, dwarfs and elves that it was a wonder any were left.

It was something of a relief to Karl when the door was opened and there was, not slaves with food, but guards who motioned them up the stairs. Outside was a wagon which seemed more a cage with wheels. The six of them were herded into it and the door into the cage was barred behind them.

"Where are going?" Karl asked Wilfred.

"To the arena. What will happen then I am not sure. We will have to fight of course but what or how we will fight I do not know. Sometimes we are made to fight together and sometimes we fight alone. We may be armed or not. We will see when we get there."

The arena was a massive affair and even from a distance the roar of the spectators could be heard. They were taken to a side gate and were ordered out of the wagon. There were ordered into a room with a grated door which opened into the arena. They were ordered to the back of the room except for the dwarf, whom the guards signaled towards the door. He stepped forward eagerly. His chains were removed and the door was opened and he was thrust into the arena, as he did so a voice could be heard making what seemed to be an announcement. He strode into the center and looked around. Suddenly another door was opened and into the arena strode a huge creature.

Karl hissed in hatred, it was a Beastman, like the ones he had battled with Clare and Ernst. This one was large, at least seven feet tall, and more muscular than the Orcs he had fought. It had only two arms but it had a second pair of horns, growing out of its lower jaw like the mandibles of an insect. Of more immediate concern, however, was the fact that the creature was armed and the dwarf was not. The Beastman sported a heavy club studded at the end with a number of spikes driven into it. This when combined with its long arms, gave it a reach far greater than that of the dwarf. If the dwarf was bothered by this he gave no indication of it.

With a roar the dwarf charged the creature, which responded in kind. As they closed the beast swung the club back over its head, clearly intending to bring it down on the dwarfs head, crushing it to a pulp. Karl remembered what Wilfred had said about the dwarf and wondered if the dwarf intended to let it. He did not.

At the last second the dwarf threw himself into a roll and the club crashed harmlessly into the ground. He came out of his roll and head-butted the creature in the knee. It bellowed in pain and thrust its head downward, clearly intending to spear the dwarf with his second pair of horns. Again the dwarf seemed to have anticipated the creature's moves. Instead of dodging again he took a different approach this time. He reached up and grabbed the horns as they descended. They slowed but continued downward and Karl could see blood pouring from between the dwarf's fingers. He refused to let go and stepped to the side while jerking the horns across his body.

This, combined with the creature's own momentum, caused it to lose its footing and it crashed to the ground. The dwarf instantly let go of one of the horns. Taking the other in both hands he pulled and stamped with one foot on it. With a loud crack about a foot of horn broke off. As the beast tried to rise to its feet the dwarf leapt onto its chest and, taking the fragment of horn in both his hands, repeatedly thrust it into the beast's chest, it thrashed and roared and then went still.

As the crowd roared motion in the stand caught Karl's attention. In a private box which separated the occupants from the rest of the crowd were two elves attended by several human slaves. One was a male dressed in elaborate armor which bore the same sigil as the guards. The second elf was a female whose face was both beautiful and cruel in equal measure. She wore a robes which managed to be both elaborate and shockingly immodest at the same time.

She had risen and was standing on the edge of the platform. She raised her hands and chanted, a purplish-black cloud formed and shot forward to engulf the dwarf, he staggered as it enveloped him, then crashed to the ground. Slaves appeared, looped ropes around his feet and dragged him, face down, back to the others.

As the dwarf's chains were put back on him the guards motioned for Sir Coty to go through into the arena. As he passed through a slave came forward and offered him a rusty short sword which he took. He stepped into the arena; as he did so his own opponent stepped out as well. He was a large man, at least Karl thought he was a man.

His skin was a mottle greenish-gray and Karl suddenly realized that the man's skin was, in fact, scales. The mutant's eyes were yellow and had cat-like eyes and fangs for teeth. In its hands it held a double-bladed axe. The two looked at each other for a moment then they sprang forward.

The mutant swung at Coty's head; the knight went down on one knee and lashed out at the others leg. The sword struck but bounced off the scales covering the mutant's. The mutant responded by kicking out. The blow took Coty full in the face, knocking out several teeth and throwing him back several feet. He landed heavily and lay there, it appeared that the wind had been knocked out of him.

The mutant laughed and advanced on the downed knight. As it advanced it readied the axe for the killing blow. But it had been a trap for the brute. Coty's foot shot out and slammed into the mutant's groin. It let out a wail of pain and doubled over. Coty by now had clambered to his feet. He grabbed a handful of the mutant's hair and pulled its head close to him. As soon as it was close enough he rammed his sword into the mutant's left eye. It jerked and bellowed and then fell to the ground dead. Without a word Coty let go of the sword, turned and headed back to where the others waited.

Next it was Yuviel's turn. She walked into the arena with barely contained glee, pausing only long enough to take the spear offered by the slave. Rather than waiting for her opponent to appear she walked to the body of the Beastman that the dwarf had killed. She went down on her knees and slipped off her shirt. She shoved both of her hands into its wounds and began to smear the blood over her face and chest and work it into her hair, only stopping when her opponents entered the arena.

There were two of them, large, muscular Orcs. Each of them carried a large clever-like blade and a shield. They saw her and charged with bellows of delight. She in her turn shrieked with a joy that sounded equally savage and ran to meet them. As they closed the Orcs split, going to either side of her to flank her. She dove to the side and rolled under the wild swing of the one on the left. She came up behind it and thrust at its back. The blow landed and drew blood but the Orc was clearly more angry than hurt.

The other charged her and she had to fall back. This gave the one she had stabbed the opportunity to turn to face her again. Now that they were so close the length of her spear became more of a hindrance than an asset. She backed up frantically thrusting out to keep them at bay. Suddenly she tripped and fell to the ground.

Seeing this one bellowed in triumph and charged. She jumped up and thrust out with her spear. The head went into its open mouth, pierced the roof of its mouth and punctured its brain. As she worked to free her spear the other one swung its blade and sheared her spear in half. Discarding the useless half she held she jumped aside just in time to avoid its next strike, landing on her side. To Karl's surprise she started laughing, a mixture of wild joy and blood lust.

She lunged toward the Orc. As they came at each other she tucked herself into a ball and rolled between its legs. Straitening up she turned to face its back. Before it could turn around she jumped on its back, wrapping her legs around its waist. Still laughing her wild laugh she wrapped one arm around its forehead. With her other hand she made a fist with her thumb sticking out. With a wild shriek she thrust it into one of the Orcs eye sockets and began worrying it about.

The Orc threw back its head and roared in pain. Her head shot forward and she sank her filed teeth into its throat. Blood fountained onto her face and spewed out all around her as she shook her head about, ripping out chunks of flesh and then spitting them out to bite down again. The Orc thrashed about and struggled to throw her off for a while but eventually fell to the ground. She spat out the last chunk of flesh and then threw back her head and shrieked in triumph. She then got up and returned to the door, pausing long enough to retrieve her shirt.

"Good day." She said as she rejoined them. "Much blood, pleasing to the gods."

Wilfred ignored her as he walked out to face his foe. The slave offered him a war hammer which he took. Walking out into the arena he stood tall and ready to face his foe. Out of another portal, this one a tall set of double doors, came a gigantic creature. It resembled a rat only it walked on two legs and was more muscular than of the foes that had been faced to day and it stood nearly as tall as the minotaurs that had breached the gates of the village. Undaunted by the size of his opponent Wilfred charged at the creature.

"Ulrik guide my hand!" He cried and then loosed a wolf like howl. The creature swung at him with a massive paw. The blow was poorly aimed and only grazed the old priest, though it was still enough to stagger him and draw blood. Wilfred winced in pain but kept coming. Like Coty he aimed at his opponent's knee. Unlike the knight's attempt Wilfred's attack was effective.

With a loud crunching sound the creature's knee crumpled under the blow. It shrieked in pain and fell to one knee. It swung at him again but it was hampered by its wound and the blow missed entirely. The old priest ran around behind it and swung again. This time the blow struck its lower back; it stiffened and then fell to ground face first. Wilfred ran onto its back and struck the back of its head repeatedly, crushing its skull.

As he returned to the others the guards signaled for Karl to go out.

"Luck in battle boy." Wilfred said as he passed

"Lady be with you." Coty said.

The slave was not there, it seemed whatever was waiting for him he would have to face it unarmed. Like the others he did not have to wait for long. The doors opened and out came what he was to face. It looked something like a Beastman. At least it had the upper body of a Beastman but its lower body was that of an oxen. In each of its hands it held a spiked flail, each with two balls. It yelled in delight and ran towards him.

Karl ran forward, feeding the wolf into his legs to increase his speed. As they closed he threw himself to the side but it seemed that the creature was both faster and smarter than it looked. It swung its flail and caught Karl as he passed. Karl cried out in pain as two of his ribs broke. He fell to the ground but quickly got back up, his ribs were already healing but they would take time. He was suddenly knocked to the ground as the creature kicked him with one of its hind hoofs.

His vision swam and he had to struggle to get to his feet. Before he could the thing ran up to him and struck him again with its weapons. This could not go on; he simply wasn't strong to stop it unarmed in his human form. He could not change fully, even without the collar he was not sure he wanted the elves to know what he could do, he would just have to hope for the best, maybe they would think him only a mutant though the thought repelled him.

Turning to face the creature he dashed at it. Claws grew from his fingers and his muscles swelled all over his body. Again the creature swung at him but this time Karl caught it and jerked the thing from its hand. Throwing it away he shot his hand out and sank his claws into the things shoulder and used that to vault onto its back. It dropped its other flail and tried to grab him but its arms, like a human's, were not really designed to bend in the way it needed them to and was unable to dislodge him.

Wrapping his legs around its torso like he was riding a horse and grabbed the creature's horns and gave a savage jerk. With an audible crack the thing's neck broke. Taking time to return to normal he stood and walked back to where the others were. As he rejoined the others he saw that Wilfed and Yuviel were both looking at him oddly and looked like they might ask him something. Before they could speak however the guards were motioning Agliar forward.

As he entered the arena the crowds hissed and shrieked in hatred and showered filth and abused on him. He ignored them and took the sword that the slave offered him. He walked into the middle of the arena, outside of the reach of the impromptu missiles. The door on the other end opened up and his opponent came out. It was another elf. Clearly a Dark Elf he wore fine armor, though not as elaborate as some Karl had seen. He bore two wicked looking curved swords.

The two looked at each other in silence for a moment, even at a distance Karl could feel the hatred between the two elves, and then they moved. Karl's breath caught in his throat, he had never seen such swordsmanship. Even with his altered eyes he could barely follow their movements, they seemed more like two shadows then beings of flesh and blood. The duel went about the entire arena; thrust, dodge, parry neither seemed able to land a blow on the other.

With two swords the Dark Elf could attack and defend at the same time and could attack faster. Agliar, who had only one sword, had to constantly shift between attack and defense but since he held his sword in both hands his blows had more power behind them. He seemed to gain the upper hand for a moment, a series of powerful attacks driving his opponent back against the wall. Before he could deliver the killing blow filth thrown by someone in the stands struck him in the face, temporarily blinding him.

The Dark Elf took advantage of this and launched a vicious counter-attack which forced Agliar to give ground. Still trying to get the filth out of his eyes he lost his footing and fell to the ground. The crowd roared with savage glee and the Dark Elf moved in for the kill. Agliar recovered quickly and scissor kicked from the ground, knocking him from his from his feet. As the Dark Elf fell to the ground Agliar scrambled to his feet but his opponent was equally quick and was on his feet and ready to recommence the fight.

Agliar and his opponent locked blades. As they strained against the each other the Dark Elf lashed out with a savage kick to Agliar's chest which knocked the sword from his hand and him to the ground. Again the crowd gave voice to its glee. Agliar lay there as if stunned; his opponent closed in, this time making sure to stay clear of Agliar's legs. As he got close Agliar suddenly moved; he threw a handful of sand into his opponent's eyes. As the Dark Elf fell back, furiously rubbing at his eyes Agliar shot to his feet, in his hand was the fragment of horn that the dwarf had broken off and had dropped when he was drugged. Before the Dark Elf could react Agliar rammed it into the side of his neck. The crowd roared with outrage but Agliar paid him no mind and returned to the others, stopping only long enough to spit on the corps of his opponent.

After that they were loaded into the wagon and driven back to their confinement. Waiting for them was food and drink. As the settled down to eat Wilfred came up to Karl and motioned him into a corner, Yuviel looked as if she wished to follow but Wilfred gave her a look and she kept her distance. Before Karl could speak Wilfred interrupted him.

"What are you?"

Author's Notes: Well what did you think? I hoped you liked it. Whose fight did you like the best? Please let me know. I am going to have some groups fights too, please let me know who you want to fight together and if there is any particular opponents you want them to fight. Please pray for the American's held abroad and for those effected by the weather across the globe, for peace in Ukraine and everyone else who needs it, if you want something or someone mentioned let me know. Bye and may Jesus bless you.