| (( Authors note: Chapter three was shorter for suspense. Chapter four is the way it is within reason. I know you all want another fight. That's what chapter five is for. At the time this chapter will be posted, I probably wont have even started it yet. )) |
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He checked the lineup. The sound of people still stepping in through the portals and into the arena seating was still filtering in through his ears, but he ignored it. He didn't watch the faces of every man, woman or child who came in through those perfectly rounded holes and into hell like he usually did. He didn't sit there and analyze their thoughts from expressions and body language. He didn't try to guess what each 'warrior' was packing that night. He was looking at the list of everyone who had signed up to fight that night as well. There was never one fight. One fight was never enough reason to go out. There was one arranged fight, of course, by the first two people who got in line. Anyone else who wanted to sink their fingers into some of the adrenaline free for all was free to. No fight ever had a time limit, because it wasn't necessary The only thing that limited time was the movement of the sun. It had to be broken up and scattered before dawn, when the light was still on their side, or at least the lack of it. Checking down the list, he found a fairly good mix of newer and older players for tonight's game. Since he was hosting, his match would be first. His opponents name would be pulled at random from a mix in a hat. Tonight, he didn't know what he'd face, and didn't care. He could lose his best Pokemon tonight, or destroy someone else's ego, pride and joy. When your opponent was random each time, there was no way to tell for certain what would happen. If you survived your first battle as a newbie, then you were set for life. You were always taking off a hunk too big to chew. Tonight, however, was going to be the start of something new. Something big. Weather anyone noticed the tension in the air, or how unusually relaxed he was, didn't matter. Weather anyone knew he was hosting or not tonight, didn't matter. At this point in time, what anyone knew, had a hunch about, heard or was even ignorant of, flat out didn't matter. It was the future that mattered. It was the ticket event. It was the circus show before the slaughter. He turned with plan to head into the arena and take up a podium, to find Vincent standing directly behind him. Apparently he'd been reading the list over his shoulder and he had been lost too deep into his own array of thoughts to notice. "Trick, right?" The man smiled at him broadly, slapping a hand on his shoulder in a hard, but comradly fashion. "Traik, Sir. Vincent, correct? Good to see you here tonight. If this is your first fight since you left for training, you might like what you see today. If you'll excuse me." Vincent grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back before he could get away. He lowered his tone and looked Traik right in the eye. "Are you sure you know what you're doing, kid?" Traik worked hard to keep the smug look off his face. "No, but the only way to prove a theory is to do it, by trial and error if necessary, correct?" Vincent nodded and released his shoulder. "Good luck. You'll need it." Turning, he stepped into the growing crowd, just cutting the conversation off at the hilt and leaving the doubt to fester in his mind. He just shook his head, getting back to his Zen like state of forgetting the world around him and concentrating on what was ahead. As he headed down into the sub-level below the seating, one of pit fiends handed him the microphone that he'd requested from the announcement box. He still had no idea what to say, he figured it would come to him when he needed it. He stepped out onto the fresh sanded floor of the pit and slowly, pointedly, paced to the center of the ring. Alone. He'd purposely had it arranged so he'd get the chance for his little speech before the name of his match would be drawn. He looked up as he slowly turned around, looking up at the people still coming in and settling down, looking at the battle scarred faces, dead eyes and all, to the youthful faces that had become suspicious of every difference. He continued to wait. He vaguely remembered something about his new phone being delivered at roughly 7 o'clock in three business days. He looked at the watch on his wrist. 6:50. In ten minutes, the gates would close and anyone outside as clocks around the city flipped to 7, was just another normal citizen, oblivious to what was going on deep below their feet. Anyone within the tunnels were admitted, but once the gates were closed, you were in, or you were out. No bargains, no deals. Everyone knew the rules. Those who didn't were impostors, spies, cops. It didn't matter. You break any rule of Blood Bowl, and you were instantly a fugitive. You could never really know who was watching you or when it would happen, but you'd likely be killed before you could become any more of a threat. Blood Bowl was invitation only. It had to be, because word of mouth was never as reliable as everyone thought it was. With word of mouth, you could never really be sure who would walk in and who could be trusted. 7:01. Damn, he'd left his body and gone somewhere else again. He shook his head and flipped on the mike as the bodiless announcer boomed the usual greetings over the Bowl. "Welcome one and all, to the Blood Bowl!" Followed by traditional greetings, naming the battlers for the night, enticing roars or cheers from the crowd, stamps of feet, applause. Either way, someone always approved. His ears had shut to the noise as he just watched people with his eyes, waiting for the dull drone to cease and for his time in the spotlight. "-And here you have it folks, the reason for tonight's game, Trainer Traik! How about a big round of applause for our brave host!" The guttural screams and roar and stamp of feet didn't seem to affect him at all. He just looked upwards into the darkness where the announcer's voice was originating from. "Now before we name the opponent for Traik tonight, He's got something to say to you all, hit it man!" He smirked slightly, wondering if the announcer got paid for this job, considering some of the odd little spins he put on his speech now and then. He flicked on his microphone and raised it to his lips, lowering his eyes to watch the pit fiends enter and take their places by the podium bases. "Good evening, friends, fiends and warriors. Tonight is a night like any other. We're here to fight, to the death, to prove ourselves. To prove our skills and prove our relationships with our Pokemon, our avatars, our familiars, our friends. Like every other night, half of you will succeed, and half of you will not. Like any other night, your rank may lower or rise, your ego may boost or be shattered. Unlike any other night, you will be watched. Watched by someone looking for extraordinary talent. Watched by someone who can control your life. Someone who can make it end, or someone who can give you total freedom. Doesn't sound any different? Maybe. But the rules are changing tonight. Maybe not now, maybe not next week, but you'll notice. There are going to be a few changes around here." He paused for the angry and confused roar. Changes mean more rules, more restrictions. They didn't like it. He smirked. They didn't matter. It was the ones who remained silent that he was watching. "Settle down. You came here to fight or watch a fight. There are now newbies tonight, so you'll see the same old faces." He waved his hands to the extra pairs of pit fiends by the doors of the arena and they vanished into the tunnels. "I know how boring this can get, so I'm giving the dice a roll tonight. I'm making a gamble. Maybe you'll like it, maybe you won't. A little piece to what you're familiar with, boys and girls." He clicked off his microphone as he walked towards his podium. He handed it to one pit fiend, while the other helped him up and strapped his feet to the floor of the small structure. He watched the previously signaled fiends bringing in the crates, some by hand, some with the help of a wheel barrow. Some were about as big as his head. Two were just smaller than the podiums themselves, one longer than the other. The crowd was a mix of emotions, cheering, roars, shouts at Traik for messing up their long tradition. He ignored it. The crates were opened. Rocks, gravel, a log dropped in the center. No real reason to be in the crates, it was all just for show really. "Host Trainer Traik has labeled this night as 'Test Night' folks, and with good reason! Tonight's games will have an assortment of obstacles added to each fight, depending on the level of skill from each player! Ground rules still stand plus one additional. If you want to take up a beef with Traik, do it in the tunnels after the night is over!" The announcer boomed solemnly over the speakers once more. "And tonight's pull of the hat will match Traik against... Trainer Nemo!" Traik's brows shot up. He didn't think the kid had made it past his first fight. He figured the kid must have been a last minute entrant considering he hadn't seen the name on the list. It would prove interesting, to say the least. He pulled the pokeball he'd planned on using from the start, off his belt and set it in the small indent of the podium before him, concentrating on it and nothing else until his opponent had arrived and was strapped in. |
