I am writing this really quickly since I have
The First of the Fights
Adrian pulled a hand through her knotted hair. Nervousness knotted her stomach. Death was imminent, again.
A huge arena had arisen out of nowhere. Each prisoner was called out of there cell to come view it. Indeed, it was beautiful sight. Rough hard granite shimmered in what strange light existed; it stood tall upon the purple tinted ground, going several stories up. Tall spires stood in the corners. Flags fluttered from them with strange symbols on them.
The group of captives was marched by a few Chaos minions into the arena through giant iron gates. The main entrance. It was bigger on the inside than it was outside. Every sound echoed in the silence. They stood on the arena floor. Around it were twenty foot walls, so none could climb out. Then there were the stands. With their ancient banners, boxes, and seats.
Adrian stared around eyes widened in awe. No one said a word.
"I know where we are," One of the dragons breathed. It is very hard to instill awe in a dragon, and the bronze one was clearly affected. Adrian stared around. The only two who seemed to be unaffected were the black dragon and the black mage. Dalamar's face was as masked as ever. If she had learned anything in the last few days though, it was that Dalamar did have emotion. He was tortured at night-.
"This is the gladiator arena at Istar!" Dalamar struggled to keep a straight face. It was beautiful. Its ancient splendor still radiated out in this strange world. It commanded respect. Dalamar could almost smell the blood of those that had died here, he was sure both the dragons actually could. One could almost hear the voices cheering, screaming in pain, swearing at a lost bet. The place was clotted with memories.
The group was let subconsciously to the other end of the arena. In the wall there were two huge iron doors. Dalamar knew, one was for the slaves that fought, and the other was for those who fought the slaves. Unless, of course, if they fought weave other. And each fight was to the death. They were led down a long hallway behind the slave's door and bid to take seats along the hall.
Then as some of them had expected, a voice rang down the underground stone corridor. It was not Chaos's voice, but most likely one of the minions.
"Come now, rest easy. Not all will fight today. You might not be picked, for the choosing is at random," The voice was soft and lilting. It commanded respect, though made no order.
A woman stood at the other end of corridor, in front of the doors out to the arena. She her dusky brown skin was eclipsed by her lighter hair. She did not wear normal clothes, but plant matter that floated around her legs like silk. In her hand she held a small glowing magic light.
It was not this, nor her clothing that told them she was a goddess. It was her power, it radiated about her in a blanket, even those who had no idea what power felt like could feel it, and feel it strongly. That and her eyes, they were purple. Not a bright purple, but sort of a dusky gray color. They were ageless, looking in to those eyes one felt like they were staring into the past. They held a sadness, a soft sorrowful sadness of one that knows what is to happen, but has resigned themselves to that fate.
"Who are you?" Milkweed's small voice piped up. The goddess smiled a sad smile and turned toward the kender.
"I am Chislev, kender-kin. I am here to bring you news, though not all good,"
"What of Krynn? How are all my buddies? I'll have a heckova story to tell them when I get back!"
Chislev drew a sorrowful breath, preparing herself to tell them.
"Krynn is godless; the war was won, thanks to those of you who fought bravely for your world. But Chaos ordered me, and my brethren to flee the world. We no longer can touch it; it is beyond our reach,"
"Then why the hell are we here?" yelled a draconian. Its garbled voice echoed in the tunnel, the silence that fallowed was even more noticeable.
"Ahh. It was not our choice to bring you. The Father is determined to show us our faults, make us regret our world. He'll break you. All of you. There is nothing you can hide that he can't see,"
Dalamar was already beyond that. He'd discovered that Chaos had not taken his magic, which was all that mattered. He was brought back to the realm of Chaos with an unpleasant bump when the soul-wounded goddess began calling out the days fights.
The Gods Speak- Their Father Listens to the mundane pointless things they say
Gilean stood with his arms folded in front of Paladine.
"Name one of the prisoners who fallows your teaching," he said softly.
"Why?"
"Because father commands it. Don't ask why," Paladine eyed his brother annoyed. As if "life" couldn't get any worse.
"Alright then. I fear this will not end well. Bolt, the bronze dragon,"
Gilean nodded and disappeared from the star-look.
Paladine stood before Takhisis, his conniving sister. Her mind was not on him, but on their pathetic little play toy.
"Sister dear, if I may have your attention?"
"No,"
Paladine sighed. This was his sister. Difficult, at best.
"Father commands it,"
"Who gives a shit was Father commands? Except you, you and your filthy line of blessed?"
The god of light shuddered. Guilt poured over him like water from a mountain stream. He pushed the thoughts aside. This was not only his fault, it was all of theirs. Trust dear sister to make him feel like this.
"Name one of your followers who is prisoner here," Takhisis did not answer. Paladine was about to repeat himself. "Did you-?"
"I heard you brother. Tell him I have chosen the goblin. But chosen for what I wonder?"
"And I as well," For a moment they stood looking out over the realm of Chaos together. For a moment Paladine and his sister were in agreement. Then she turned away making her black hair swish around her neck like a caress.
"And yet I don't doubt my presence has made you sick, brother," She was right, and she was gone.
And so it went. Each god naming a random follower, not knowing why or for what. Then they all knew. Chaos told them the fight order. That and those opponents were also picked randomly.
Returning the ancient arena of Istar.
It was pitifully easy, thought Dalamar. He moved to stand alone in the lion pit next the arena floor. While all the others were separating out into their little groups, he preferred to be alone.
Pitifully easy, a fight between a draconian and a goblin. Within seconds its head rolled. But no, the draconian wasn't done. Caught in battle lust it stomped the body to bits. Actually this whole episode took several minutes. By then the gods began filing into the stands. The mere, no-longer-mortals, couldn't see them, but could sense the presences.
Those creatures of darkness felt most strongly the presence of their mistress and her followers. As with the creatures of light and neutrality. Dalamar's head pounded. He shook it, but it only got worse. Blinking hard he tried to clear the insistent pounding. His soul, mind, heart and body were being torn to shreds. The gods of good, those who had created the elves called to him from one side. His god called on the other side. Takhisis was not calling. He bore her no love, scorning her openly.
Then something pushed aside the pain in his head. Adrian was staring at him, her hands rested on his shoulders. He had had his head down and had not even noticed her standing right in front of him. He made a motion to shake her away, but she dug her nails intro his skin and robes.
"What do you want girl?"
"A bowl of Ramen noodle," Dalamar's face twisted in fury. He did not want to be messed with. He was trying to stay sane while watching a bloody fight between a griffon and a black dragon (this he liked. Blood was like rain, almost), and being torn in two by god presences. He fought for control over himself, and the voices of the gods subsided.
"What's Ramen noodle?"
"My comfort food,"
"You can talk your hands off my shoulders now-," she already had.
"Oh well, if you won't make me a bowl I'll get someone else to,"
Dalamar watched as she sauntered away. She seemed unperturbed in the least by what was happening, Dalamar would have been fooled if not for the slight shaking of her hands. What in the name of Nuitari did she want soup for now anyway?
I understand he may be a little out of character, but hey. Review, tell me if this sucks, if it's good, whatever.
Thank you to reviewers