The throngs of people had thinned only marginally as I rejoined the flow. There was a sense of urgency to their movement now and I unconsciously sped up as well, taking ground devouring strides that easily outdistanced everyone else. I was surprised how much faster I could walk with longer legs.
As I progressed deeper into the city, I struggled to make sense of the bizarre architecture of the buildings. Many of them seemed to be built from the remains of previous buildings made from some other material. It confused me as to why they would go to the trouble of rebuilding three quarters of a wall. It didn’t seem like it would be structurally sound, either. Perhaps, the original material was better than what was in use today? Or maybe it was prohibitively hard to get rid of the preexisting ruins?
I left those musings behind as I entered a massive circular plaza. In the center of the plaza was a giant coliseum, very similar to the traditional roman model. It seemed to be at least 500 feet from the walls of the coliseum to the perimeter of the plaza in every direction, although I couldn’t see the far side. Shops selling food, goods, weapons, slaves, exotic imports, beasts, and other things I didn’t recognize ringed the edge of the open paved space.
The street I was exiting had less traffic than several of the others, but the square itself was packed with people of all descriptions, with a massive crowd that gained density as it pushed towards the actual entrance to the arena. I forced myself to slow down and think for a moment. I snagged a chair in the seating area of an open air diner and gestured for Bia to join me. She reluctantly did so after I made the gesture again with extra emphasis. Now seated, I opened my senses wide and focused on the arena.
Sure enough, the arena was the source of all the death, or more accurately, someplace beneath the arena, likely 100 feet or more underground. From this range, I was able to clearly separate the little deaths of the arena stage from the ancient mass of death underneath it. 200 years of dying gladiators had indeed made the arena a location relatively strong in death energy and probably populated by a small nation of restless spirits, but the power I sensed from beneath it made the gladiator ring look like a dim spark in front of a massive bonfire. Underneath the arena, there was a place of true power. I felt drawn to it and my rational mind didn't object. I needed to gain power if I was going to be a challenge 'the Six' whoever they were. Hell, I didn't want to be a challenge. I wanted to be a steel plated hammer utterly crushed them.
I nodded as I refocused my attention. I pushed the ever present sense of death to the back of my mind with difficulty. I could see that the lines were still going strong. I suppose I must have spaced out for about 10 minutes. I glanced at Bia and she met my eyes as I rose and moved toward the arena again.
As I crossed the great plaza, I looked at the slow moving crowd. It looked like there was space for five people abreast to enter the arena by paying at evenly spaced booths. They had been shuffling inside for a while now. My mind boggled at the sheer numbers that must already be packed inside. There had to be thousands at least, maybe tens of thousands. They should be mostly spectators who wished to watch the blood sport. Waiting in line there would simply waste my time, so I proceeded to push forward through the crowd to a chorus of angry mutters. Thankfully, my rather impressive physique saved me from anything worse than curses and rude hand gestures.
I did a double take as I spotted a line to the side of the main arena entryway. It was occupied by ghosts. This teller had a window built into the wall of the coliseum, rather than a standalone booth and he looked bored. I gritted my teeth and squeezed past the ghosts, giving an awkward apology for cutting in line now and then. They let me pass with nothing more than disgruntled looks and thankfully I didn’t have to walk through any of them.
“What are you after, stranger?” the clerk in the window asked. He had watched me approach with evident amusement, since I seemed to be dancing around thin air from his point of view.
“I want to participate in the arena battle,” I answered. I was surprised at how calm and collected I sounded. I know I felt nervous and frazzled, but I wouldn’t have known it from my voice.
“I want to participate, as well,” stated an equally calm feminine voice. I nearly jumped. I had completely forgotten that Bia’Keres was still following me.
“Wait yer turn,” the clerk muttered. “Do you know anything about the arena, stranger?”
“It’s a place where people come to kill and die for the amusement of the masses,” I answered in my best deadpan.
“Sure, sure, but the important thing for blokes like you is the pay and the perks,” the clerk answered. I silently cringed at his grammar.
“You get paid gold every fight. The more you win, the more you get paid. If you survive the first fight, you will be given space in the rooms under the arena. If you die, all of your wealth and belongings will devolve to the coliseum. The arena is not responsible for any wounds you take and will not make allowances if you are maimed, blinded, or otherwise crippled.”
I nodded. The clerk pulled out a sheet of paper and handed it to me along with a quill and ink.
“Just make your mark there,” he said. I surprised and annoyed him by proceeding to scan the contract. “No need to do that,” he encouraged. “I already told you all the important bits.”
I ignored his sales pressure and kept reading. Most of it was as he had said, along with specific payouts for fights won. A couple of the important bits he’d failed to mention was that this was a contract for ten fights, in addition to a qualifying round which I wouldn’t be paid for. You only got paid at the end of the ten fights and breach of contract also forfeited all payments. On top of that, it specifically mentioned that this was a solo contract. Bia Keres was with me and I didn’t feel like going up against her, not to mention I wasn't here to complete the ten fights. I wanted to figure out what was under the arena. I also noted that enemies could surrender and then it was up to the other fighter and the will of the crowd whether they were left alive or put to death. Fun times. I’d try and be popular then for as long as I stayed. Also, not losing would be good.
“I want a contract for a pair,” I said, indicating Bia who stood at my elbow.
He seemed relieved I only had that one complaint and swiftly provided me with another contract. This contract was actually for a group, I found, and allowed up to four party members. The pay was four times as great, as well, which meant that me and Bia, if we won, would be pulling down double the payout. I wasn’t opposed to that at all, although part of me was wondering just how cocky I could afford to be. In any case, after a brief perusal during which I tuned out the clerk’s prodding to hurry up, I signed the contract as Ker’Haros and passed it to Bia, who signed it Bia Keres.
“Alright, finally,” the clerk complained as he tied the rolled up the contract with a red ribbon and tucked it into a cubbyhole inside his office. A door opened next to his office. “Take the hallway straight down the main corridor and follow it as it curves until you reach door number four. Go inside and wait. The qualification round should be starting in just a few minutes. If you aren’t in the room when it starts, you’ll have to wait until next month.”
I simply nodded and passed through the door with Bia on my heels.
Door number four had a large archaic IV on the door, or rather, the equivalent for this world’s languages. The door itself was thick and reinforced with metal bands. It seemed like they didn’t want this just flying open all willy nilly, I mused. I pushed into the room beyond and found a space a little larger than a walk in closet with stone benches built into the wall along either side. Another even more impressive door crafted from a single slab of stone marked the entrance into the arena, no more than twenty paces away on the opposite wall. I could hear the dim roar of the crowd beyond.
The room was packed with people that looked desperate and frightened. Of the nearly twenty people in the room, more than a dozen of them wore rags or cheap clothing and boasted nothing more than clubs or quarterstaffs for weapons. Many of them had the pinched expressions and glassy eyes of extended hunger. I looked at them and I suddenly understood how the arena made a majority of its money. I wouldn’t be surprised if the majority of these pitiful wretches either couldn’t or didn’t read their contracts before they signed it. Many of them were undoubtedly hoping to merely survive this bout and collect some extravagant payout, at least relative to their extreme poverty. I doubt any of them realized that they needed to not only survive but conquer in the next ten matches if they hoped to see any sign of that pay check. I remembered a film I saw once and a mournful voice echoed in my memory, ‘Dead man walking.’
I didn’t know what, if anything, I could do to help those desperate souls, so I took a look at the individuals in the room who looked more prepared. There was a dwarf, or at least, I assumed the being inside that heavy metal armor was a dwarf. He barely topped four feet and his armor was an almost rust color, not from misuse, but from some kind of varnish or staining process. His weapons seemed to be a shield and mace. Another was a duo of a rather severe looking ugly man and a humanoid cat. The man apparently had some sort of monstrous lineage given his giant under bite and the yellowish tinge of his skin. He wore an eye patch with a deeply etched scar that ran across that eyebrow from above the patch and through his cheekbone below. The humanoid cat was white, although not entirely clean and came complete with claws and a cat muzzle, but had the stature of man and probably stood over 5' tall. A collar and its leash lead back to the man, and the creature crouched at the man’s feet, rather than using the stone bench. The last man looked like a simple archer with a sturdy longbow and supple leather armor. The four of them probably had an inkling of what they had signed up for, at least.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
Scarpatch the Underbite noticed me looking at him and snarled in an unfriendly manner. I shrugged and went to find a seat. The aisle down the center of the room was just wide enough that I didn’t have to step over anyone’s feet, that is until I reached one-eye and his cat. He was sprawled across the aisle in a pose that couldn’t possibly have been that comfortable, given the nature of stone benches.
I quirked an eyebrow in his direction, “We’ll have plenty of time for this later,” I commented obliquely. I looked pointedly at his outstretched legs that blocked the aisle.
“Why should I move for you?” he growled.
“You’ll need your legs unbroken for the upcoming fight,” I replied. If this fellow wanted to make a power play in this of all places, I was perfectly willing make our positions clear.
He snarled and moved to stand, aggressively. As soon his legs moved out of my way, I slid past. “Much appreciated,” I said genially.
One-eye, robbed of the moment, seemed about to pursue the matter, but the voice of the announcer suddenly captured our attention speaking from beyond the door.
“Ladies, gentlemen, citizens, and serfs, welcome to the monthly qualification rounds! The contestants await in the four holding areas. Today, we will see who has the mettle and skill to become warriors! Welcome, ye who would be warriors!”
The stone door slid into the floor under the influence of hidden machinery. I stepped forward at the head of the group of hesitant desperate men , aside from the few exceptions. As I stepped onto the arena floor was I was stunned at the sheer immensity of it. The others began to spread out around me, as I stopped to take it all in. The arena floor was surrounded by a thirty foot stone wall, and above that stretched an amber dome of force that I readily acknowledged as the most impressive example of magic I had so far seen in this fantasy world. The dome arched over the whole of the arena floor, but was transparent enough to give a nearly unobstructed view of the spectators in the even more massive stands. The arena floor was hundreds of feet across, but the stands were just as large and encircled the whole the arena floor except for what had to be box seating for the upper class and nobility at one end of the slightly oval stadium. Three other doors just like mine had also released their prisoners and more than 60 participants stood in four groups evenly spaced around the arena. I felt a sudden spike of death energy roll outward from the center of the arena.
“We salute ye who are about die. If you die, die well!” shouted the announcer. His voice reverberated, but the echo was lost as the audience rose to their feet and cheered so loudly that it even seemed to drown out my thoughts.
A tremor ran through the ground as a large section of the arena floor near the center folded down like massive doors and a platform rose quickly into sight packed with humanoid figures. I felt a sudden chill waft towards me and I strained my eyes to look closer. At the same time, large doors at either end of the arena rattled open. The aura of death I was feeling suddenly made sense. It wasn’t the impending death of dozens of these pitiful contestants I was sensing. Our opponents, fully a hundred of them, if not more, were the undead. As though acting on the same signal, the undead broke into rapid sprints, spreading from the center and both large entrances, even as all the exits in the arena once again began to close. A wave of skeletal undead rushed towards our group, and my time to think and analyze ended.
The skeletons rushing towards us moved at a dead sprint. Their bones often still had tags of leftover flesh and skin attached to them and they were naked. For a weapon, they had the fleshless claws of their fingers or simple clubs. I charged the leading skeletons and felt Bia following tightly on my left. The sounds of combat began to break out all over the arena as the first skeletons reached their prey.
I dodged a clumsy swing from a skeleton and smashed my fist into its skull. A flash of green light erupted off my fist and the skeleton was briefly a skeleton shaped dust mote before it scattered. I jerked to a halt and ducked to my right as two skeletons replaced that one. The skeleton’s club swung past me and I grabbed the arm to throw it, but Bia’s staff licked forward like a snake and shattered its rib cage. It fell apart, so I used the arm to smash the other skeleton, driving the improvised weapon diagonally through its body. I was surrounded now. The skeleton horde had swept past me while we fought. I felt Bia slot in behind me, guarding my back and I proceeded to wreck what was in front of me. Four skeletons came at me from every available side. I grabbed an incoming club and pulled the owner into my fist where it disintegrated. I blocked an attack from the right with the club and took a painful hit on the shoulder from the left. There simply wasn’t space to dodge. I shoved the blocked skeleton away and delivered a backhand at the same time as I swung a haymaker at another skeleton. The mindless undead weren’t smart enough to dodge and two more of them disintegrated.
I heard Bia delivering a nearly continuous round of crushing blows at my back. I assumed she was facing just as many opponents. Fresh skeletons replaced ones I had destroyed and for several minutes, it was just the sound of my fists and the roar of the crowd as I demolished skeleton after skeleton and picked up a collection of bruises. No blue boxes popped up to tell me how much damage I was taking, but I knew the damage was adding up. A bisected skeleton from Bia’s fight dug it’s claws painfully into my calf, causing me to glance down long enough to stomp on its skull. One of the endless stream of skeletons took the opportunity to clock me in the face with its club so hard I saw stars and flashing lights.
Your status is critical. You are at 1 hit point.
I shook my head as I quickly destroyed the skeleton and two more with several rapid punches. I shifted to face the oncoming skeletons and relaxed as I realized there were no more attacking us. I looked out across the arena and saw that, as I predicted, close to 90% of the contestants had been smashed and ripped apart by the skeleton horde. A core of about eight fighters still stood, most of them clustered together or driven to the wall. Only Bia and I stood further into the arena and the piles of scattered bones that surrounded us attested to the fact that we probably killed twice what most of the others had, even if my kills were largely lost in the dust of the sandy arena floor.
The crowd grew quiet as the announcer began to speak. “Congratulations! Contestants, you are true warriors! Welcome to the Arena! Fight well! Die well!”
The stone door to room number four slid open once again and I limped dizzily toward it as the crowd roared so loudly, I thought I’d lose my hearing. Once inside, I wasn’t surprised to see one eye and his cat along with short and armored. I was a little sad to see no sign of the archer. I suppose the skeletons were a poor matchup for someone with a bow.
I simply dropped onto a bench as the stone door rapidly closed once again, locking out the bulk of the crowd noise. A wave of blue boxes assaulted me and I gave them each a cursory inspection before willing them away.
You are victorious!
You have successfully defeated 24 Least Skeletons.
You have gained 1200 experience.
BrawlingThis is a brutal and unsophisticated combat style that focuses on striking with the fists to deal maximum damage. Improvised weapons may be used to block, entrap, or strike enemies.
Mastery Basic
+1 to hit and damage
Passive
You have gained the title “Gladiator”
As you win battles, you will be recognized as a successful gladiator.
When you performed a particularly impressive kill, your fame as a gladiator will increase faster.
Reputation +5
The inner door opened and a plainly dressed man stepped in. “If you would like to follow me, quarters have been arranged. Otherwise, check with the clerk before you leave to find out when your next fight will be,” he said.
I wearily climbed to my feet and followed him through the underworks beneath the arena to our quarters. I ignored the hallways we walked through and only the fact that there was a bed registered when he introduced me to my room. I collapsed onto it and surrendered myself to sweet dreams.