Clank. Clank. Clank.
Did that damned orc ever stop training? It was hard enough to sleep with the smell of rotting flesh and spilled blood as it was, without the constant noise of a sword smacking against a metal target. Opening her eyes and sitting up, an Imperial girl scowled at the Grand Champion, who was too busy to see her dislike of him. The girl's rose blonde hair was an absolute mess, frizzed and looking more like a lion's mane than anything. Scowling, she rubbed the sides of her head, trying to get the ringing sound of metal against metal out of her mind.
A door was shut, causing yet another sound to break into her head. A migraine was killing her, but, apparently, nobody cared. Not that she expected the residents of the Red Room to. If they did, she'd start pinching herself to try and wake up.
"Hey, healer. No time for napping." It was Owyn, and he sounded more annoyed than usual. Groaning, the girl ran her fingers through her frizzy hair, racking through her memories to try and remember if there was any reason for the grumpy old bastard of a Blademaster to wake her up.
"Uhm..." She mumbled, finding it very, very hard to think with that constant clanging and clanking. "...there was a match today?"
Her guess was rewarded with a scowl from the Redguard. "Yes, and the winner's got some wounds that need healing. Now get up and do your job."
The girl scowled back at him, standing up and letting out a loud yawn. "Alright, I'm up, I'm up..." Owyn looked satisfied with this, and walked over to the other side of the room, where somebody, likely a spectator looking to see what the Bloodworks looked like, had just entered.
Why anyone would want to see what was down in the Bloodworks was beyond her. There was really nothing to see. Just a bloody dungeon filled with weapons and warriors. Nothing else, really. Then again, there were those creepy fans that enjoyed even getting a glimpse of an Arena combatant. The very same fans that were stupid enough to sign up and join the ranks of their idols, only to get themselves killed.
A quiet groan roused her from her thoughts. The Orc who was to go in that day's match was limping heavily, slowly making her way toward the healer.
"Owyn told me to look for you." Pain was evident in the orc's tone, though she managed a weak smile. "Mul gra-Kurash." Holding out a very cut hand, this introduction caused the Imperial to stare. Introductions weren't common in the Bloodworks.
"My name isn't important right now. Healing your wounds is." The girl turned toward an old wooden cabinet that was so rotted that it could barely support anything. Unfortunately for her, it was the only thing Isabel, the one who pretty much ran the Arena, would let her use for her supplies. A clinking noise could be heard as she scanned the potions, reading the labels carefully.
Weak healing potion, use on small cuts... Grabbing this one, she placed it on the table behind her. She wasn't taking her time at all, instead reading with such speed that the Orc named Mul was dumbstruck. Mul couldn't read at all, let alone this quickly.
"Medium strength, good for larger cuts, stab wounds, and fractures..." The girl read the title aloud as she also placed this on the table, before turning back to face Mul.
"What does the strongest type of potion do?" Mul asked, amber eyes filled with curiosity. This took the healer aback a bit. Well, Mul wasn't exactly your typical Orc, at least, not when smashing your skull in.
"When your arm's cut off, it'll heal the wound instantaneously. I don't have that type, unfortunately." Biting her lip, Mul could see a bit of guilt in the healer's expression. "And... well, if it gets that bad, most people just want me to end it. Which is why I need these..." Gesturing to a bunch of green bottles, Mul knew enough to know that they were poisons. Then the Imperial girl shut the creaking cabinet door, uncorking a bottle almost immediately.
"Hold out your arms." The girl instructed, her voice taking on a professional tone. Mul did so, feeling a slight tingle when the Imperial gently poured the weak healing potion onto her smaller cuts. The injuries closed up with a pleasant sensation, and the healer gave the orc the rest of the bottle. "Drink that." She ordered, grabbing and uncorking the larger bottle of stronger healing potion.
Mul obeyed, bracing herself for the familiar horrible taste of the potion. This one tasted of a mushroom and a bitterness she couldn't place. At least it wasn't one of the venison and daedra heart potions. She'd rather have her head cut off than drink those kind of mixes.
Then there was slightly painful feeling in her stomach, and a frustrated little sigh from the healer. "Have to do it with magic..." The girl mumbled, hair somehow becoming even frizzier when she was annoyed. The orc braced herself again, knowing that healing with magic was often more painful than healing with potions.
A sharp pain, like tiny needles poking her skin, flew through the stab wound in her stomach as it healed. The healer had an apologetic look about her as she grabbed a wet cloth to wipe away any remaining blood.
There was a creaking noise as a cart came into the Red Room, carrying the familiar sight of corpses. Once, every so often, the cart would become full from the bodies of the dead who couldn't have a burial, and when that happened, the rotting heap of flesh was dumped into the large pit that was in the middle of the Bloodworks, surrounded by bars to prevent people from falling in. Thankfully, it was a long drop, so the smell wasn't so bad. Usually.
"Alright, everything feel okay?" The girl asked, tearing her eyes away from the cart. Mul nodded in reply. "Good." She smiled, as Mul stood up, shook the healer's hand, and walked back off toward the training room. As soon as the orc was out of sight, the smile seemed to slide right off of the girl's face as she flopped back down on her bedroll, falling back to sleep almost immediately, unaffected by the disgusting sounds of bodies sliding into a pit.
A little note here, you won't find out the main character's name until later. I've decided to try out a story the way it is in Oblivion, where your name is never addressed, only your title and gender. Anyways, enjoy!