Hello to all readers, I'll probably wrap this story up soon (as well as the other one) and possibly start a new one soon. I'll have to go through my growing collection of films and books for inspiration, until then I'll try to update as often as I can. All Night Angel Trilogy belong to Brent Weeks.
Jason's head throbbed violently as he woke, bleakly blinking to clear his eyes. His wrists were chained to the wall in the cramped, unfamiliar cell. He spat a globule of crimson fluid from his mouth and flexed his muscles experimentally. He hissed as dull pain flashed across the surface of his mind, becoming suddenly aware of the many bloody wounds traversing his body like a scarlet map. "Ah, he's awake. Good, that means he can fight now." Jason lifted his head to face the speaker, but the figure was hooded. Suddenly his chains were yanked up and he was lifted to his feet. The hooded speaker continued "Because you can't be trusted with the other gladiators, your new cell is directly beneath the area. You will either be up there, fighting for the entertainment of the crowd or right where you are now. But now, the arena beckons. May the Godking find amusement in your battles, assassin." Ancient gears began to creak and turn as his cell ascended and his manacles snapped open. A section of wall opened up and light burned into his eyes, temporarily blinding him. A spear jabbed him in the side, the guard wielding it yelling at him to move. Jason spat at his assailant as he walked into the light. A great coliseum awaited him, packed with screaming crowds. He looked around, noting that he wasn't the only person the crowds had awaited. Men from every nation and path of life surrounded him, yet the diminutive throng of warriors were still woefully dwarfed by the size of the amphitheatre overlooking them. A Khalidorian high in the stands began to speak, his voice magically augmented to reach every spectator. Jason only caught one word for every five or six the Khalidorian spoke; there was to be a series of battles to celebrate the Godking, each would be themed on a historical Khalidorian victory. As the man finished his speech swords were thrown to the gladiators gathered below. Cheers and laughter erupted from the crowd as a few unfortunate men were speared by the weapons, only to be cut short by the loud screeching of chains being pulled. A gate large enough to permit the passage of three Ladeshi galleons abreast was slowly dragged open and a horde of Khalidorian warriors charged out. Jason laughed darkly as a handful of men around him sullied themselves in fear and hooked his foot under the blade of a rusted hand and a half sword. He flicked it up, catching it in a reverse grip like an oversized dagger and waited patiently for the tide of Khalidor's berserkers to hit.
An audible crunch was heard as the two battlelines clashed, sending bodies flying and the sand underfoot became a crimson quagmire. Jason had relocated himself to the edge of the front line and ducked under the two-handed sword swung at his head by a giant screaming warrior. He flicked his wrist upwards and his blade whipped across the throat of his attacker, spraying him in a sanguine shower. Turning on his heel to avoid an axe swung by the next man, he plunged the sword into the base of the neck of his target and crouched into a basic fighting stance. Three tall Khalidorians faced him with spears, keeping him out of reach. Jason grinned at them with blood-stained teeth before speaking in simple Khalidorian, "Scared?" and kicked red sand into the eyes of the man on the left. He dived towards the blinded solider to avoid the two spear thrusts from his companions and plunged the sword through the man's helmet into his skull, snapping his decrepit blade in two places. He swore as the two remaining foes charged him, using the dead man's body as cover before throwing the corpse at the feet of the closest living spearman. The man stumbled forward as he tripped over the body and Jason caught him under the chin, feeling more than hearing the snap of the man's neck breaking as he twisted his head savagely. Fear gripped the last Khalidorian and he turned. Jason was faster however and flung a discarded spear through the man's chest. Suddenly devoid of enemies to kill, Jason looked around the swirling mêlée. It appeared the Khalidorians weren't doing as well as they had planned. He grinned as he crouched to recover a new weapon and threw himself back into the maelström with a feral snarl.
A few hours later, Jason was prowling his cell as the last vestiges of adrenaline left his blood. The battle had come to its unanticipated conclusion when bowmen had forced the gladiators to retreat back to the isolated cells while the announcer had proclaimed the cowardly Cenerian soliders they were meant to have portrayed had fled before the mighty Khalidorian army. Or something along those lines, Jason's hearing had been hampered somewhat by the last sounds of battle and the rush of blood in his ears. He could still hear the dull thudding of his heartbeat, he had not heard the sounds of gears or felt his cell move back down into the earth. A guard approached and threw an Alitaeran shield and spear through the bars and left without a word. "Seems watching their mighty soliders beaten has upset them slightly." Jason smirked as he picked up the sword and shield. The short sword was in slightly better condition than the last weapon he had been given, but the shield would stand up to more than a few swings of a Khalidorian greatsword. Particularly when a seven foot giant was on the other end of it. Jason knew of the Khalidorian invasion of Alitaera, droves of berserkers had descended on the phalanxes of the Alitaeran civilian-militia. However, the Khalidorians had lost that battle. Not that the average Khalidorian knew that though. Light once again poured into his cell as the way into the arena beckoned.
The next day, or so Jason thought as time was difficult to tell in a cell, was not broken by the rush of battle. Probably because they had won the battle yesterday as well. Through shouts, threats and promises of survival, Jason had managed to bully the remaining gladiators into a barely coherent phalanx and they had managed to repel the Khalidorian force once again, and had once again been forced back by bowmen. The announcer had promised that the following battle would be the invasion of Ceura. Jason knew without a doubt the only way the Khalidorians could have won that battle is through sheer numbers or the power of their dark sorcery; the skill of Ceuran swordsmen were legendary. Not on par with a wetboy such as himself, but Jason still wondered if he could beat a swordmaster without the benefit of the Talent. Ceura had a distinct lack of magicians or Talent, even the passive magic that gave Jason his abilities, instead trusting only in steel to defend themselves. "So I'm fighting sorcerers next. Great" Jason muttered as his eyes began to close through exhaustion.
Icy coldness shocked Jason awake as the water soaked his ragged clothes. "Time to fight, you bastard." The guard left the cell as it began to rise to the chorus of screeching gears. Jason trudged towards the entrance when it opened and out into the arena. The announcer was already speaking and pointed towards the pile of swords in the centre of the arena that was flanked menacingly by archer towers. As the announcer finished, the archers opened fire. Panic spread like wildfire among the gladiators until they realised they had to reach the swords in the centre. The mob stampeded towards the centre of the arena carrying Jason along with it like a living wave. As they reached the blades, Khalidorian warriors emerged from all sides, the cacophony of the gates opening deafening the combatants. A lone figure stood before the mass, tattoos covering his arms and bald scalp and strange, alien words spewing from his lips. Jason turned to look, but suddenly a large dark purple portal flickered into existence. A huge shadow loomed beyond the gateway before bursting into reality with a horrifying roar. Serpentine in shape and a cavernous maw with spirals of thin, sharp teeth, Jason recalled these monsters were called pit wyrms. The beast roared once more and began to devour the hapless gladiators and Khalidorian archers alike, to the delight of the crowd. Jason spotted a discarded bow lying among the rubble of a broken tower, the owner likely been eaten alive. He pulled the string back, notched the arrow and realeased. The arrow shot skywards before plummeting to the ground, finding its mark in the skull of the pit wyrm's summoner. As its master slumped to the ground, the monster let loose an ear splitting screech and tore through the stands of the coliseum in a bid for even greater freedom. "I can't believe I'm following a pit wyrm…" Jason mused to himself as he leapt through the chaos left by the wyrm, ignoring the dead and dying around him.