Arena of the Wicked

[Barrenlimb]

All I know now is the blackest surroundings. It has become my home. It is my home, but it is no shelter. My tormentor has stolen my reality and so what is bliss for me is the blackness around me. Is this my life, my reality, or will I wake up. I feel my body floating as if out of an abyss, but still a gloom hangs above and below me. I look up to see broken glass floating down toward me. The agony of each piece scraping my virgin skin and the screams of ghosts all around me; a haunting fear of death, yet always living. If this is life; well its my life. *Boom...Boom**
"Wake up slave"
"What, where am I" A million emotions filled me at the same time almost overtaking my soul and putting me into a hypnotic nirvana. The memories now return to me as a dream, yet it was my life, my reality.
"Get up Fool! It is time to fight again"
I was alive or was I. The dark elves were a fierce bunch of people that surrounded a small arena in the center of this underworld. They would bring combatants and have them fight to their death and bet upon the outcome. I happened to be the reigning champion, but for how long..till death smiles upon me and saves me from this hell.
*BING BING BING*
And so it was announced"Archus the slave will be fighting today against Silchen the Duagar."
And so it was that the arena was filled with weapons and obstacles and every sort of torture device available. I have declined to use such devises as it is savage and I offend the allmighty Lloth, but screw her, I will get out of this place soon.
"FIGHT ON" *Ding*

 

[Flames]

"Hellow fellow Dantrig, will you be placing a bet today?"

"Yes, I would like to put another 20 pieces of silver on Archus."

"A fine choice that is sir"

It is sometimes unbelievable to me that they still allow this smelly pathetic little orc to work as a clerk when a perfectly fine man is down there fighting for his life. Ah, the injustices of our society.
**
As I walked down to find a good place to view the spectacle, I couldn't help but notice how crowded it was today. I had thought that this would be a pretty quick battle because Archus was battling a duergar. The final ding sounded and I sat awaiting the outcome and hopefully walking away a little bit wealthier.

 

[Barrenlimb]

The Duergar or Gray dwarves were a fierce group of fighters. They were essentially Dark Dwarves, cast out from the dwarf clans eons ago for bartering with the elemental Darkness for awful powers beyond reckoning. Exiled forever to the dark places of the world, the underworld and caves. They bore and received a vicious hatred for the mining dwarves, and had degenerated into a gross and evil people, possessed with much dark power but tormented by dreadful desire and hatred. I knew that today, as I fought, that I should beware of the poison dipped axe blades that they sometimes use in battle.

There in front of me a good 500 ft stood the duergar. Axe in both hands laughing and mocking me. He stood there fully armored and in prime condition. I had a strong belief that the drow assisted in the difficulty of each of these fights, but still, I had to survive another day down here. I quickly found a broad sword on the ground and gathered it up. It had a rusty and dull blade, but I wasn't going to be to picky. I gathered it up and advanced toward my foe. As I approached the haughty figure he turned toward me and spouted vile spit in my direction and raised his axe as to charge toward me. I had the disadvantage because of the dark setting, but I could make out an outline of his body and his weapon. Silchen came in with a vertical cut and I dodged left and came through with a horizontal cut in hopes to catch him off guard, which to my surprise, I did catch him off guard. He had raised his hand in protest to the attack, but even with the dull blade, I was able to cut deep into his wrist.

"ARgghhh"

I remained silent as I didn't enjoy taunting these forced enemies.

He was back at it wailing and swinging his axe at me as I had to duck and dodge and block his attacks to keep from being overtaken. We were close to the middle of the arena where there was a winding staircase up to a large platform where you could continue fighting. I decided that it would be best to be up high and fight as to hopefully keep an upper hand in the combat. I quickly made my way up to the top and found a crossbow at the top with one arrow notched in place already. It had a red tip on the end of the arrow, which I could only hope was a paralyzing agent. Silchen made his way up after me, but as he got to the top he felt a pierce in his neck and looked up to see me holding the crossbow in my hand. He grabbed at his neck and was wreckless with his movements and he sent himself falling down the staircase and landing on the ground in a puddle of his own blood. He continued to work on dislodging the arrow from his neck, but death was quickly overtaking him. At the top I sat down as to take a minute to rest as my body was feeling weak from lack of food and water. Was it over. Well for today it seemed to be, but for how long. A cheering went up in the arena, mostly from people who have made a wealthy cut from my winning, but it somehow gave me a little bit of strength. Not killing, but knowing that I would live another day.

 

[Flames]

I watched as archus fought for his life and how quick a fight could make me richer. This pleased me, but what of the wounds and pains of another. I decided that I should collect my earnings and leave the arena. As I walked out and up to the orc to collect he said something interesting to me.

"It is double or nothing battle coming up. You don't want to miss it."

"Who is fighting? Surely, Archus has fought for the day already"

"Ha Ha Ha, Archus will indeed fight again and this time he will lose and you will lose your money"

How have I not heard about a double match? I return to my chair, consumed in thought and trying to figure out what other creature had been captured for the arena. I sat quietly waiting to see what would conspire.

 

[Flames]

The door on the far side of the arena opened up and the creature came forward with full armor and a large axe. This was an unbelievable sight. They surely didn't want Archus to live and reign as champion any longer.

 

[Kelly]

Tebryn arrived late to the arena. He had a general distaste for these sorts of things but they were an unfortunate neccessity of his people. Being a member of the Onyx Council, he had to at least make his presence known for a couple of battles.

He entered his booth, a private chamber adorned with tapestries, ornamental weapons and lamps of glowing fungus. He removed his cloak and ran his supple hand through his white, flowing hair. Pouring himself a glass of wine, he stepped out onto the small balcony that overlooked the arena. To his left and right were scores of other balconies, each with Drow middle management enjoying the show, sipping drinks and being catered to by slaves. He smiled and raised his glass to his closest neighbor who seemed to have won a sum of gold on the last battle.

Down in the arena, a man was walking away from his fallen prey, a grey dwarf. At that time the arena doors were swinging open and some sort of foul goblinoid creature was waving his weapons menacingly at the wounded victor.

"What a waste." Thought Tebryn. "These souls could be spent on expanding our territory, making war with the Illithids, anything other than this." A cheer from the crowd caused him to forget his lofty thoughts.

"Elder Tebryn! Elder Tebryn!" a voice called from the balcony next "50 spider eyes on the abomination!" the smiling drow diplomat held up a handful of tiny rubies. By abomination he meant the half-elf. Tebryn had to take his bet, it would be disrespectful not to partake in the merriment. "Done. 50 says the orc is our victor" Tebryn returned.

The money meant nothing. A few week's pay. What mattered more was the message he received next. All of this time, he had not noticed the small envelope sitting on the stone rail of his balcony. It was sealed with wax, the signet he did not immediately identify.

Notes and such were always a staple of Drow politics. Backstabbing was almost customary. Tebryn had managed to dodge much of this throughout his career. He looked around and cautiously opened the letter. In plain underspeak it read

"The half-elf must survive. He is the key"

Tebryn scanned the other balconies as far as his elven eyes could see. No other statesman was looking his way, not even the grand council in their massive box/cathedral.

"D-mnation. It's too soon" Tebryn muttered as he stepped back into the recesses of his box. From under his cloak he produced a bow and quiver. He donned the cloak, uttering something under his breath, and soon he seemed to blend in with his surroundings whenever he stood still, or nearly so. He crept back to the balcony, staying in the archway, out of site. He spied on the arena below. Tebryn would be losing more than 50 rubies this eve.

 

[Barrenlimb]

Archus stood looking around the arena as he heard the shouts and claps. "By the gods" he muttered to himself as he looked at this vicious creature that was in full mail charging toward him.

Archus quickly searched the ground near him and was able to find a small buckler, but no weapon. Hopefully this would stop the certain death he faced. Archus braced himself as the goblinoid swung his large axe down in an arched motion. The weak wood on the shield crackled and a small chunk was taken out of the shield. The attack knocked Archus onto his back. Turning on all fours, he scrambled to make his way away from this toned foe. Archus was able to get to his feet and as he turned he took a hit in the side from the butt of the axe and then a quick shoulder to his face. Archus looked up to see the goblinoid hovering above him raising his arms up to the crowd in a taunt of sorts. Archus made it up to his knees. He sat there dazed and blinded by blood and sweat running down his face. He drew his demeanor inward and thought of his family, his life he once knew. The friendships, the smiles. A peace came over him and he closed his eyes awaiting the torture and the inevitable death that pursued him as the night chased the day.

OOC: I am kindof fazing out the 1st person. Sorry for any confusion.
Welcome Kelly, I enjoy your writing style.

 

[Flames]

Dantrig sat in quiet meditation as this Half-Elf closed his eyes and submitted to his fate. The quiet strength and acceptance of death ignited a fire within Dantrig. A wreckless fire of sorts, but his demeanor remained unchanged. He stood up and turned his back as if to set up a silent demonstration or protest of this event. He noticed some rustling around in the upper balconies, but didn't see it as anything more then a drunken feud over a bet or some other shameful activity.

OOC:
Thanks for joining the thread kelly.

 

[Kelly]

"By the Mother, he's giving up!" cursed Tebryn as he watched the halfbreed seem to drop his defenses. "How could this one be The Key?"

Tebryn watched as the orc grandstanded, working the crowd like a true victor. The great beast raised it's arms high, waving his axe in the air much to the pleasure of the crowds. They reveled in this sort of thing. Soon he lowered his massive arms and returned his attention to his foe, who seemed to be staring off into space.

Tebryn pulled an arrow from his quiver. It was a black arrow with a special metal arrowhead made of dracheneisen, a foul metal that Tebryn hesitated to touch himself. The arrow wound would burn like fire, but there would be no flame. If he was lucky, no one would be able to tell where the shot came from, buying him a few precious moments.

He knocked the arrow as the orc closed in for the kill. Tebryn's next act would seal the fate of all three. The orc would, hopefully, perish; the halfbreed would live (for now) and Tebryn would become an outcast - at least until the plan was completed. He spied down the shaft to his quarry. The orc stepped forward and raised his axe, snarling a snaggletooth grin. Tebryn thought to himself...an old Drow proverb..."Do as you are ordered, and live." He loosed the arrow as the orc began to swing.

THWUK! The arrow struck home, squarely in the back of the orc's neck. The orc's eyes widened in surprise and he clutched his neck in pain, his green icor spewing out onto the arena floor.

"That did it. Now I must move!" Tebryn thought. Trifling with arena combats, let alone killing a victorious gladiator, was a one way ticket into the arena at best. To find out the assassin was a member of the council would mean even graver consequences. He tucked his bow back into his cloak, it had served him well for hundreds of years and for hundreds more if luck was on his side. He pulled his cloak tightly around himself as he heard the crowd begin to react to the murder. Some booed, some cheered, all looked towards the balconies. The angle of the shot exposed the general direction of the attack.

He burst out of his private room and into the busy hallway. The drow and slaves out here had no idea what had just occurred. He moved into the crowd and headed for the stair.

 

[Barrenlimb]

"Thud"
Archus opened his tired eyes to see the goblinoid grabbing at his neck and pulling at an arrow that was lodged in. Archus glanced around to see if another had been allowed into the arena to battle. It was vacant in the arena and he saw two slaves coming to take him to his chamber.

"You have lucked out today boy, at least for today." the ugly orc spewing out pieces of meat from a fresh meal as he chuckled.

The two orcs dragged him back into a chamber and down a hall to a small cell that they kept prisoners/combatants.

 

[Flames]

From the roaring of the crowd came a booing and Dantrig turned to see that everthing was amiss. Many were looking to a balcony and Dantrig presumed that somebody disrupted a clean battle, but why. Guards and soldiers were moving across the arena and chaos was at its fullest. Dantrig ran as fast as he could up the arena and toward the overhanging balconies. Was there another person that felt a disgust for these antics? What was the cause of all of this.

"That was Tebryn's Bow" One drow civilian spoke up and another argued that it was another of a seperate house. The slaves were yelling that it was an orc invasion and everybody seemed to be less than analytical with there observations and manners.

One brave orc charged at me in hopes that it truelly was an orc invasion, but he quickly met the likes of a metal blade piercing through his stomach. Several of the nobles were in a drunken stuper not paying attention to the match, nor the antics of the crowd, let alone the lost wager of any bets on the goblin.

So Dantrig continued running looking for any guilty looking person with a bow, seemed less than an easy task to find in this mass of confusion.

 

[Kelly]

Tebryn reached the entrance to the slave quarters. Several of the orcish guards where ranting and raving about the attack. Tebryn held his cloak close and whispered the incantation. He moved into a nearby shadow as two guards walked by. They continued their discussion, oblivious to his presence.

He moved again, past a doorway and into a dark corner. The orc guardian's eyes could pierce darkness, but with the cloak he had a distinct advantage. Three guards remained outside of the halfbreed's cell.

 

[Barrenlimb]

In the cell, there was a small ration of food and water that was left for Archus, hardly a meal of a champion arena fighter, but he had grown accustomed to the poor meals and treatment. There outside of his cell were two guards arguing over an earlier bet and another guard was in a heavy slumber, most probably an act of too much liquor. The cell was very dark, as was the whole of this vain underworld, but Archus had begun to teach and train his eyes to turn the shadows into images. Archus had finished his meal in several moments, yet his stomach was far from satisfied, but this was what he had come to expect.

 

[Flames]

As Dantrig continued running down a hallway that would open up to an entrance chamber, he kept replaying the battle in his mind. How easily Archus gave up.
In all of the battles Dantrig had seen him fight, he refused to believe that this goblinoid could defeat him in less than 20 seconds. Something was amiss. Something was wrong. Did this prison warrior know that somebody would make sure that he would live? There was so many different questions flooding Dantrigs mind that he faced no other choice.

He would face the prisoner for answers. Dantrig moved in the opposite direction toward the holding cells.

 

[Kelly]

Tebryn waited. He watched the guards carefully. Two seemed to pay more attention to each other than their charge, while the third, the one with the key to the cell, was nodding off. He could just make out the halfbreed, who was bolting down his meager meal. Tebryn's mind drifted as he kneeled there in the shadows. He remembered a meeting, that fateful day when they had contacted him.

He was walking back to his chambers after a late meeting (where, as usual, nothing was decided). He heard a click click click behind him. Being backstabbed on the way home from a council meeting was not unheard of, and the pursuer had not hailed him as one would if they did not have dire intention. In one movement, Tebryn drew his sword and turned to greet whomever was behind him. Nothing but the empty tunnel lay behind him. Tebryn spied for a moment, and had almost turned back around when he looked up and saw the Drider perched on the cavern ceiling.

"State your purpose, abberant!" Tebryn growled as he held his sword upon the half man half spider that swayed above him.

"Put your sword away, I bring you no death this day, friend." smirked the foul beast. Tebryn lowered his weapon as the creature lowered itself down upon a silken thread.
"You, Tebryn Golz, have been selected. You are to bring the Key to the Gate."

"You speak in riddles..I grow tired and my judgement is failing, speak plainly before my sword arm forgets you are an ally." Tebryn snarled

"It has been decided by the Circle that you are to liberate the outcast. He is to complete the prophecy. You are the first part to this end, you must obtain the Key."

Tebryn's mind was mulling over it all again and again as he watched the two guards walk off down the hall. The Circle. The Key...The Gate....Well, his part would soon be done. All that remained between him and completion of this task was a lone, sleeping guard...and...someone else. There was someone walking into the prison block....heading towards the halfbreed's cell.

 

[Flames]

As Dantrig entered the prison block, he noticed 3 orcs. He then became aware of his own foolishness, he couldn't just stroll in and chat with the prisoner without a decree with signet from one of the 8 ranking houses that made up the council of elders. He was now too close to change his course without looking suspicious so he continued on.

"What business do you have here? Do you have an authorization letter"

"Ummm, yes, yes I have a letter here in my pouch" Dantrig said as he brought himself closer to the orcs. As he rummaged through his pouch he pulled out a small bag which he allowed to slip through his fingers and as it hit the ground small rubies scattered all across the floor and the orcs dropped to the ground gathering each one they could find to claim as their own.
"Wait those are mine" Dantrig said in feigned disbelief as he quickly made his way past the mesmorized guards and toward the prisoner in hopes to get a couple moments of conversation before he would politely submit to leaving the area, hopefully, he would find the answers he sought.
***********
"Prisoner" Dantrig shouted
"I have seen you fight till you were not able to withstand any more, but you always came out victorious. Why did you give up so quickly against the goblin? What devilish treaty have you made with the council that they should harness protection over you in the arena?"

 

[Barrenlimb]

Archus looked up in surprise at the approaching drow. The drow vivaciously questioned Archus as he sat there motionless on his makeshift bed.

As the drow stopped speaking for a moment, Archus' looked up at him and responded. "You know little of your own ways foolish drow. Here is a riddle for you to solve.
'Where mithral flows to depths of hell, sailing a vessel where darkness dwell. In incantation as old as time, will open up a river's spine.
Out of the spine will come a ghost,
who will lead an army, a mighty host,
To devour a nation above and below....' "

As Archus was in mid riddle he past out from an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion. It seemed that an illithid may have overtaken his mind and caused him to become weary.

 

[Kelly]

Tebryn listened silently to the halfbreed. "Interesting...perhaps there is more to this slave than one would assume. Could he really be The Key?" Tebryn watched as the slave fell comatose. He would be next to impossible to liberate now. He's wounded and tired, in no condition to escape. That could be fixed easily enough. Using the shadows, Tebryn moved back out of the room and into the crowd. Soon he lowered his cloak and blended into the masses as they moved to and fro. He made his way to the temple, there he could purchase a healing potion that could be slipped into the halfbreed's daily allotment of water. He should find his wounds healed in no time.

 

[Flames]

"Who is it? What else do you know?" Shouted Dantrig as he kicked the unmovable bars that held Archus in. "Useless pathetic slaves.." Dantrig murmered as he pushed his way between the guards that now stood yelling at him to leave the area.

As he walked out of the area, he kept replaying the riddle and trying to think of the what the next line might be in the riddle. Who was going to lead this army. Were they really to defeat the surface and the underworld? Many unanswered questions lay facing him. He would just have to come back at a more opportune time.

As Dantrig exited the gate, a soldier handed him a parchment and turned and exited.

On the small parchment read the following :
ROUND 2: ARCHUS VS. ??? COME AND SEE

Three days before the slave will go into the arena again Dantrig thought as he mounted on his medium sized lizard and road off toward his domain.

 

[Flames]

" A Surface Raid??" Dantrig said as if surprised by the council members proposition.

"We have heard of a looming threat at the edge of the underworld. We must do what we can to ensure our way of life, our history."

"And what patrol should I take??"

"It is being arranged. There will be two patrols. We will be meeting later today at the mushroom patch near the arean. " At that the council member dropped a pouch for compensation and turned and exited.

Dantrig sat silently staring at his two swords that sat at his feet in front of him. He could almost feel the hunger of the swords as they sat staring back at him. 'Was this my way of life' he thought. 'Is this my fate?'
Dantrig reached down and picked up the first blade and a tingling sensation went through his arm and he picked up the second blade feeling the hunger take over him. After armoring up, he walked out the door and toward the arena.