Chronicles of Espiria Season 1
Episode 10 - Gladiators
Written by CindyDaGreat
23 years ago, in what was once Bear territory in the Scorched Expanse...
A group of Bears bound together in a chain gang were led through a dungeon filled with the sounds of screams, cries, and defiant roars of other Bears trapped in cells that lined the walls of the dungeon. The younger, rasher Bears growled and snapped at their Centaur captors as they shuffled awkwardly through the dungeon; these acts of defiance were rewarded with strikes in the face from the Centaurs. These Bears were led out of the dungeon into a grand combat arena. Many other Bears were already there, kneeling on the ground, their backs covered in whiplash scars. A formidable-looking Centaur stood over them all, cracking a whip in the air whenever he felt that a Bear had stepped out of line. Bear and Centaur children were present in the arena as well, the Bears trying to look as imposing as they could despite their youth and chains, while the Centaurs were there with their parents to learn how a slave auction worked.
All the Bears were lined up in neat rows, a few requiring the whip to ensure that they stay in line, to allow the prospective buyers the best view of the "product". After a few minutes, an older Centaur walked up to a podium hastily set up in the center of the arena, dragging a Bear woman by her ponytail. In his other hand was a small tattoo lance.
"Each of these Bears before you today will be the gladiators of tomorrow!" the old Centaur began. "We shall be the oppressed Mauler clan no longer; instead, we will rise up and delight in the spectacle of Mauler bloodshed and conquest! These gladiators will embody the Bloody Will; only the strong will survive to entertain us another day! Soon, these beasts shall prove their mettle in this grand arena! Long live Golus! Long live our chieftain!"
Cheers erupted from the Centaurs present as the Bears bristled at the very mention of Golus' name.
"Now," the old Centaur concluded, "let the bidding begin!"
One by one, sometimes ten at a time, the Bears were sold to their new masters to serve as gladiators in the arena, the mark of their buyer carved into their flesh with the tattoo lance. As the brands were carved, gold and handshakes would be exchanged between the old Centaur and the buyers.
Back in the dungeon, curses and rage-induced rants against Centaur chieftain Golus were immediately silenced by the crack of whips, briefly replaced by cries of pain. It was humiliating to consider; the mighty Bear tribe had been subjugated by a weak, nomadic, vegetarian tribe like the Centaurs!?
"Go back to eating grass, ya horse..."
Crack went the whip, lacerating the defiant Bear's jaw. The Centaur responsible smirked as he stared down at the Bear.
"You think this is unfair?" the Centaur asked rhetorically. "You think you Bears deserve this position of lashing the weak? For decades, we had to endure what you're going through now; you don't know a hair of what unfair is!"
"Talk to me like that again and we'll see where my claws go!" the Bear responded.
The whip cracked twice more, lacerating the Bear's cheek and robbing him of his left eye.
"Talk to me like that again and I'll take your other eye!" the Centaur said with a dark smile. "The fight won't be nearly as fun if one Bear is blind, but for you, I will risk it."
It took all his willpower, but the scarred Bear stayed silent until he was taken to a crowded cell.
"Hunter! Your face!" a younger Bear said to the defiant Bear. "Are you okay? What did you say to that Centaur?!"
"If I hadn't stopped myself, I would've done more to his face, Dustin." Hunter said to his brother. Hunter tried to lick his wounds, but only succeeded in making himself cry out in pain.
"Hunter! Stop yelling or he'll come for us!" Dustin whisper-cried.
"Let him come! I've had enough of his stupid, punchable face!" Hunter said defiantly.
"What's all this commotion?" the Centaur shouted as he entered the cell block. "You're not getting into trouble, are you, slaves?"
The Centaur was holding a bag filled with heads of lettuce. As he walked down the corridor, he tossed a single head of lettuce into each cell, pausing a moment to watch the reaction of the Bears. He took notice when he passed the cell Hunter was in.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite fiery cub." he said with a wicked smile. "Better bring that fire to your fight tomorrow, Scar. Here," the Centaur tossed an extra lettuce into the cell, "you'll need this."
Hunter just stared at the lettuce as he asked, "What kind of weed is this?"
"Open your ears, gladiator!" the Centaur roared. "I said it's dinner! Now eat it like the good little cub you are!"
"You're a joke if you think that this weed is food!" Hunter said, looking the Centaur in the eye.
"Remember our earlier conversation?" the Centaur replied, unfurling his whip again. "Or do you need a reminder? Now eat!"
Hunter kicked the lettuce away. Another crack of the whip lacerated Hunter's shoulder.
"Do not call me cruel!" the Centaur commanded. "I'm not letting you starve after all!"
The Centaur trotted off to finish feeding the other Bears. Hunter looked at the others in the cell with sad, vengeful eyes. The others looked back and forth between Hunter and the lettuce.
"It's an insult to our culture," Hunter said as he picked up the lettuce, "but we can't starve."
"No! Us fierce Bears only eat meat!" one of the children shouted as he pounced on the other lettuce, showing his back covered in scars.
"Rudie, darling," the child's mother said, trying to calm him. "We'll split it among ourselves."
The shackled Bears clumsily gathered around the two heads of lettuce and each took a few leaves from the heads. Some forced down the overripe lettuce better than others; the children in particular were so disgusted that most spit it out.
"One day, this will all be over." the mother comforted her children. "We will be free to return to our dens, and we can eat all the meat we want. But we must get through this. We must survive."
The young cubs nodded their acceptance, then tried again to eat the lettuce, though they still shuddered at the taste. Hunter, meanwhile, sat at the cell door, staring at the blank wall in front of him, blinking his now-useless eye. He thought about what the Centaur guard told him, that his first gladiatorial bout would be the next day. He then wondered if the Centaurs truly expected Bears to be interesting gladiators by living off these plants that only prey ate. Dustin came over while Hunter was deep in thought and rested a reassuring hand on Hunter's shoulder, offering him a leaf of lettuce. Hunter shook his head no, but still thanked him with his good eye before turning back to the wall.
The next day, Hunter was dressed in crude armor that pinched him in several very uncomfortable places, armed with a mace. He stood on the same blood-stained grounds that just yesterday had seen him sold for a handful of gold. The stands were filled with Centaurs eager to find out if Hunter would live or die this day. Through a gate on the opposite side of the arena, a larger, heavier Bear made his way to the center. Hunter's brow furrowed in worry as he took a fighting stance.
"What shall these two gladiators do for us today?" the announcer shouted to the crowd.
Everyone in the crowd shouted back one answer or another, though Hunter couldn't pick out a single suggestion. The announcer, on the other hand, seemed able to hear every suggestion, and smiled wider with each new one.
"Ooh, decapitation! Haven't seen that in a while. Well, you two, you heard the audience. One of you is going back to your cell with a trophy!"
The announcer stepped back and gave the signal to begin the fight. The larger Bear began with a battlecry and a vicious strike with his spear, showing his experience in battle. Just in time, Hunter sidestepped the spear and answered with a swing of his mace, which the larger bear easily dodged. The crowd grew restless and began to chant, "Blood! Blood! Blood!"
While Hunter was disoriented by the chanting, the larger Bear struck again, knicking Hunter's exposed side. Hunter retaliated with a swing of his mace, striking the larger Bear in the leg and making him trip. He quickly recovered and jabbed at Hunter again, his attack deflecting off Hunter's armor this time. Several more attacks followed, each of which Hunter only barely dodged.
"He's too fast," Hunter said to himself. "I gotta find a weak point."
Hunter started looking for any kind of weakness in the huge Bear. He noticed that the Bear seemed to be limping on his injured leg, which meant that though his spear jabs were fast, they were also inaccurate. Hunter used this fact to his advantage to avoid the Bear's attacks and sometimes even put the Bear on the defensive.
Finally, the large Bear left itself open by thrusting his spear at Hunter's shoulder, leaving a small patch of skin exposed on his side. Hunter swung his mace at this exposed patch, landing a direct hit. The Bear howled in pain; Hunter took advantage of this distraction and kicked the Bear in the groin. Laughter from the Centaurs in the stands filled the air. With his opponent down and helpless, Hunter took his mace and began to pound the Bear's helmeted head like a hammer. Finally, the Bear passed out, and Hunter snapped the spear in half with his foot, ending the fight.
The Centaurs began to cheer Hunter's surprise victory, but their cheers soon faded into another chant: "De-ca-pi-tate! De-ca-pi-tate! De-ca-pi-tate!"
Hunter took up the broken spear and, with a silent apology, used it to decapitate his opponent. The crowd cheered again as Hunter held the head aloft. Looking back at the entrance from the cells, he saw the Centaur guard nod approvingly. He took a moment to take in the scene. The ground was stained with his own blood and that of his defeated opponent. Staring at the broken spear at the side of the dead Bear's body and the head in his hand, he nearly vomited as he realized that this was likely his life now. Whether he liked it or not, he would need to kill every Bear that the Centaurs put in front of him. Even if that Bear was Dustin. Holding back tears, he quietly stalked back to the cell block as the crowd continued to cheer.
On his way, he passed an older Bear with a child seated on his lap. Both had watched the fight with tears in their eyes.
"The dead one; what did he do wrong, Warek?"
The child thought for a moment before responding, "He thought he had already won when the fight began. He tried to put on a show. He forgot that he could bleed."
Hunter paused and listened to the conversation. Perhaps one day, he would be made to fight this young Bear. Perhaps he would even be defeated by the child. Or perhaps the advice he received this day would not save him. Either way, Hunter mourned this child's lost childhood as he returned to his cell.