An ogre before Edwin stood hulking, asserting itself by pounding its fist against the sandy ground. Thousands of men and orcs filled the stands above, each blow dealt receiving a bellow of emotion from the crowd. Edwin spat on the ground, blood-tinged his spittle, but he hardly expected anything less. In fact, Edwin smiled as he’d expected more from the giant before him. The ogre lunged at Edwin. Edwin drew a towering glaive then readied himself. As the ogre came down upon Edwin, he threw himself back clumsily, landing on the ground. The ogre missed his target and hit the ground. A cloud of dust filled the surrounding area. Edwin pulled himself up, coughing as the dust coated his mouth. He shielded his eyes and scanned for any sign of the ogre. An uneasy silence filled the arena as thundering footsteps echoed from Edwin’s right.

“Managed to stand up you fat bastard?” Edwin jeered as he swiftly turned to face the ogre. Edwin twirled his glaive theatrically over his head, and lunged in for an attack. Edwin felt a sharp crack reverberate through his weapon as the glaive met bone before giving way. The ogre wailed as it stumbled backward clenching his stumped arm.

Edwin postured himself as he prepared a swift end for the ogre. The creature, once mighty, carried itself like a wild animal. It backed up hastily while swiping at open air. With little hesitation, Edwin swung his glaive once more leaving the ogre headless. The body of the ogre heaved as it slumped over. Cheers filled the arena as Edwin posed, bloodied glaive in the air.

As Edwin faced the crowd a brawny orc put his hand on Edwin’s shoulder. Edwin sighed and handed the orc his glaive then put both hands behind his back. A thick rope was fastened as Edwin was led out of the arena.

“You smell like ogre piss, Mak.” The orc, Mak grumbled lightly before heaving Edwin over his shoulders. Edwin relaxed his muscles defeatedly as he was comically carried out of the arena. Mak took aim at the situation and casually spoke to Edwin. “To defeat your enemy only to be carried off like a child,” Edwin said nothing, not wanting to give Mak any satisfaction. As the two of them left the arena, the sounds of the crowd faded from the air. After some time Edwin was thrown into a small chamber and locked inside. Despite Edwin’s Arena Champion status, his quarters were of a prisoner, and he was just that. Hands still tied Edwin sat himself down on a pile of straw, barely resembling a bed.

Slow, deliberate footsteps filled the hallway outside of view from Edwin’s quarters. Even so, Edwin perked up at the sound, knowing whom they belonged to. His Ortak, an orcish term meaning ‘Arena Keeper’. The man approached Edwin’s quarters and a burly bodyguard opened the door.

“Mr. Pott.” Edwin greeted the man. Mr. Pott tended to dress exotically, Edwin thought. Today he wore a bearskin shawl along with his normal black suit and cane. He was a long, thin figure with a hoarse voice.

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“That day when I saved you it was without a doubt the best decision I have ever made.” Mr. Pott walked further into Edwin’s quarters, dragging a finger across the sandstone wall. “That being said, sometimes I feel as if you’re more trouble than you’re worth”. Without warning he struck Edwin in the stomach. Edwin keeled over, still aching from his bout with the ogre. “You were supposed to lose that match with the ogre.” Edwin groaned before trying to speak.

“It would have killed me!” Edwin replied. Mr. Pott chuckled.

“You would have been near death but our staff wouldn’t let it go that far.” Edwin relaxed as Mr. Pott changed his demeanor. “In any case, the way you slew that ogre was a worthy finish to the show.” Mr. Pott turned to leave, but before he exited completely he turned to Edwin. “Disappoint me again and I collect a bounty from the Paladin Order.” The door closed leaving Edwin alone. As Mr. Pott left another familiar set of footsteps approached Edwin. Mak opened the door and let himself into Edwin’s chambers then closed the door behind him. He handed Edwin a bottle of booze and took a swig out of his own wineskin.

“It was a good kill,” Mak said as he took a seat on the ground next to Edwin. Edwin looked up at the ceiling and took a deep drink of the bottle.

“The kills here bring me no honor, Mak.” Mak gave a hearty laugh.

“You sound like an Orc, Ed.” Edwin smiled at the comment. Mak had been his confidant and friend for nearly half a decade. In the downtime between matches, Mak had taught Edwin much of orc culture.

“The difference between me and an orc is I sleep three feet from my shit bucket and still smell better.” The two shared a laugh. Mak gave it thought before replying.

“You can no better shoot a bow than meet a woman.” Edwin looked at Mak straight-faced. The two shared an awkward silence before bursting out laughing once more. As time passed and darkness fell the tone turned more serious.

“You cannot be here forever. The Paladin Order are dogs who pick up even the faintest scents.” Edwin nodded in agreement. “I know it’s as you say, but I’m safe here. I have drinks and a companion to share them with. Pott’s an old prick, but it's worth keeping my identity as some nameless fighter.

“Your opponent tomorrow is a former Paladin. I think you will best him easily, but-” Edwin quickly shut Mak down.

“No one would recognize me. I’m a completely different person. Besides, they think me dead. Mak sighed and got up with a grunt. Edwin handed Mak his now empty bottle.

“Mok Rokar.” Edwin nodded at Mak as he exited the room. Edwin settled down for bed, but as he lay his thoughts still raced.

“I hope it is as simple as I say…” Edwin drifted off, still unprepared for the fight to come.