032 - UNPRECEDENTED

It was getting late, the crowds overhead had long since disappeared and what few of the gladiators there were who hadn’t left to seek the comfort of their own homes were asleep on cots in the preparation area.

But Conrad couldn’t sleep. Sometime the following day he would be formally sentenced, and shortly thereafter he would be sent for his first fight. He needed to know more about what waited for him, he needed a means to get out of this.

And there was only one person who could give him the information he sought.

Over and over he dropped the Gold Tier Guild Pin to the sand and stone floor of his cell, waited until whatever automatic system in the dungeon began to draw it into itself, and then snatched it up again. He liked to imagine he was giving the dungeon a taste or a smell of the item, a little bit like a baker who would put his pastries and pies in the window to cool knowing the scent of them would draw in all who happened to walk by.

After countless attempts he was beginning to lose hope though, and had definitely lost focus when suddenly he returned to his senses and noticed the pin had almost completely submerged itself in the sand. Grasping frantically he got his fingers around it and found himself engaged in the worlds smallest tug of war to keep the magical item from vanishing into the floor.

“No,” he muttered, slowly easing the pin back out of the somehow permeable floor, “We don’t give things away for free.”

With a gentle pop the pin withdrew from the floor, and then a voice startled Conrad out of his sitting position in the bare cell.

“So that’s what you’ve been doing,” it said, tone calm with such resonance and music Conrad would have gladly listened to it narrate the accounting books he had poured over as a Merchant and enjoyed it.

But more surprising than the voice itself was that it came from a man who leaned gently against the bars from the inside of the cage. He was taller than average, not towering or muscular, but trim, the sort of build that spoke of a life lived gently but not indulgently, and he wore a suit of a very similar cut and style of Barrett’s but the color was a deep, royal blue.

Conrad knew immediately who this was. There was only one thing that could appear suddenly inside his cell.

He was now speaking with the Announcer.

“Don’t be a tease,” the Announcer said, “Give it here. With an item like that I can do such things, such marvels. It’s got a spell linked to it... It’s own mana reserve…”

“Not to mention the gold, plated but a far cry from the plating of cheap crafts,” Conrad added, hyping up his item and preparing to deal, “Notice the fine craftsmanship? And what may not also be obvious is the enchantment - stat boosting, very rare.”

“Ah,” the Announcer said, “That does appeal. May I see it?”

The dungeon avatar stretched out its hand and Conrad vanished the pin into his inventory, “I’m afraid, given our circumstances... You understand, but maybe we could reach a deal - information and some small favors in exchange for this rare item of power.”

“You’re the newcomer, one of Barrett’s undesirables,” the Announcer said, voice suddenly hard, “When you enter my Arena, I’ll simply take it.”

“You can try,” Conrad said, grinning, “But when you fail, my price will be much, much higher.”

The Announcer looked shocked at the idea, and Conrad supposed he must be. Who else among the people and prisoners here other than perhaps Barrett himself would have the audacity to tell a dungeon to “act now, this price won’t last forever!”

“What…” the avatar said, “What information do you want in exchange for the pin?”

Conrad rolled his neck, producing some small popping noises and appearing as though he was about to engage in some serious work, “How the fights work, who or what I’ll be facing, any skills or special abilities…” he tapped his chin and then, as if he had only just thought of it added, “Oh, and a way to get the hell out of here.”

The Announcer smiled, “Steep price. I believe I have the perfect nickname for you in my Arena. Let’s see if you live up to it and really give me a show or…” he shrugged, “If I get what I want anyway. Either way - ”

“Either way, you win, yes, I’ve heard that one from Barrett as well. Derivative, unoriginal,” Conrad made a gesture as if dismissing the Announcer and turned away “Let’s see how that maxim holds up when I hand Cataphract his ass.”

It was a risk. Would the dungeon respond to his provocation as most men would? Did this thing think and feel in a way that Conrad could work with?

“You think a newcomer like you can best my latest creation? Cataphract only just this evening debuted to an overwhelming victory!” It growled, incredulity thick in its tone.

Evidently, yes, yes it did behave as men. Time to seal the deal and secure the first bit of certainty in the coming crucible.

“Send him if you want to lose then,” Conrad said.

The Announcer raised a hand as if to hit Conrad but then, gritting its teeth, pulled away and vanished. It knew full well there was only partial profit in killing Conrad down here. And it was greedy after all. And, evidently, prideful.

If Conrad was right, tomorrow he would be facing the only opponent he knew anything about. And after the commentary of that evening’s fight, he had a good idea of how to handle it.

----------------------------------------

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Clanging woke Conrad from a fitful sleep and he groaned as he raised himself up on one elbow. There were cots outside, would it have killed them to give him one in here?

Mitch was here, dragging a wooden baton across the bars.

“Hey shut the hell up, Mitch!” one of the cot-sleepers yelled, and to the thanks of all the rest and Conrad himself, Mitch seemed to listen.

Conrad chucked, yawning, “Little too deep into the prison guard role I think. Come on, I’m not that bad.”

Mitch smiled sheepishly and shoved a hand through the bar with the magical cuffs that would lock Conrad out from his magic and abilities, “Maybe so, put these on. It’s time.”

“What time is it?” Conrad said - no windows down here in the dungeon to gauge time even just by the movement of shadows.

“Time for the murder to be displayed for sentencing,” Mitch replied.

“It was self defense..” Conrad muttered as he took the cuffs and clipped them over his own wrists. The thought crossed his mind to only sinch them up partially, but apparently the creator of these had thought of that and as soon as they closed shut they tightened automatically, putting that idea to rest.

Mitch unlocked his cage and led him out into a morning well past dawn. The town of Great Pines was already awake and bustling, with various people going to and fro and, unsurprisingly, continued construction in full swing. It struck Conrad now as it had the night before how, in a similarly busy portion of Edge you would see so many adventurers clad variously in armor and leather, carrying weapons of all types and interacting with street merchants hawking rarities found only inside a dungeon.

These people though seemed all of a common, non-combat type. The whole place had a sense of uniform industry, and indeed, the only armed people he saw were the uniformed guards clearly belonging to Barrett’s growing faction. He wondered idly if any of these men ever entered the Arena as a means of training their nascent skills since Barrett kept them from clearing out the monster dens surrounding the area.

Mitch led him to a sort of town square where a raised platform with a permanent podium stood, evidently set up as a place for addressing the town or, Conrad was now surmising, for displaying and sentencing criminals.

Barrett stood there, straight backed and regal in his maroon suit, giving directions to various flunkies who scurried off to do his bidding. He turned his gaze on Conrad and, despite himself, Conrad felt a jolt of fear. Alone in his cell, working to discover a way out, everything seemed possible - it was him against a creature that had only recently been born. But against the ruthless killer in front of him his plans seemed suddenly so fickle and easily thwarted.

“Order, get Mara and Troy here to pull me out of this and I swear I’ll close every dungeon I find from here on out,” Conrad muttered to himself, making a small surreptitious circle over his heart.

People were beginning to fill the square as Conrad stepped up onto the platform, elbow firmly in Mitch’s grasp, and Barrett held out his hands to bring the milling town to order.

“People of Great Pines,” Barrett began, “Ever since I arrived here I have strived always to be transparent and clear - you chose me to help guide this place into a bastion of Order strong enough not just to survive the unceasing testing of the Chaos Lands around us, but to harness the power all of us know is contained in the dungeon - our Arena.

“In keeping with that promise we have a system of laws whereby every man or woman may contribute to our growth - and in following that law we put our prosperity and our future above all other concerns. Today marks the first time I have asked you to do so, not for some common crime, easily forgotten in the vast wealth that we extract from the dungeon and our work here, but for the highest crime. The crime of murder.”

The crowd, previously only mildly interested suddenly gasped and all eyes turned to Conrad. He tilted his chin up and sideways in exasperation as he muttered again, “It was self defense, for Order’s sake…”

A few people began shouting and Conrad heard only one voice clear among them calling “Who? Who did he kill? The bastard!”

Barrett held his hands up in a calming gesture, voice pitched to carry over even their clamor, “The families of the aggrieved have been informed and though I do not doubt their names will soon be on all of our lips in prayer to Order to preserve their souls, the details of this double murder are not what we are here to discover.”

The crowd again erupted into cries of anger, some among them throwing bits of food waste and even a few rocks at Conrad, but when one plinked off Mitch’s armor the man pointed aggressively at the offender who quickly vanished behind others, ending the flurry of projectiles.

“Yes, this man has taken two sons of Great Pines from us. A father. A son. Two men dedicated to the service and future greatness of this place. And so what we must do now, what I am asking you to share with me and take on as our burden is the hardest task I have yet put before you,” he paused, seeming to feel the weight and gravity of his own request, “we must curb our desire for vengeance.”

The crowd was mixed in its outcry this time, some clearly upset at the request, others curious about what the result would be, but none of them at all interested in discovering the truth of Barrett’s accusations. To them, his word was gospel.

“Every crime, no matter how mean, comes with a commensurate punishment, payable by fine or by the accrual of lost and future value to our city. And for this, for murder, unprecedented among our close knit community, I am applying an equally harsh and unprecedented road to redemption.”

Thinking of this sentencing as a mere formality, a nuisance to get out of the way so that he could continue the work of discovering his means of escape had kept Conrad relatively calm. Now though, at Barrett’s words Conrad’s heart began pounding like he had sprinted the half mile to the platform on which he now stood awaiting his fate. His breathing was quick and shallow, sweat immediately beading on his forehead as he hung on every word the man spoke.

“It is well known that the Exhibition fights are the best way to survive and extract value from the Arena, and that the Conquest has up to this day only led to the deaths of those who dared challenge its heights beyond the first tier,” Barrett said, and Conrad saw understanding and even glee begin to appear on the faces of the people in the crowd, “And in considering the loss of two men I held dear to my heart-”

“That’s rich,” Conrad blurted anxiously, and was struck back into silence by Mitch’s gauntleted hand.

“-I could not discover a sum that even a hundred exhibition fights could earn that would replace their loss. And so, it is for this reason that I add this new punishment to our list of laws - from this day forward, murderers must challenge the Arena Conquest, and in these circumstances freedom be only granted upon successful completion of the final tier!”

The crowd erupted into cheering applause. The jeers that rang out through it held all the promise of redemption in their hearts that Conrad expected he would have facing the Conquest. This way of approaching the arena differed from the Exhibition matches he had heard about here - was this the style of Arena fight that Karno had described to him days prior? Challengers facing steadily more difficult opponents as they went higher and higher in levels. But how many tiers were there?

As Conrad’s brain buzzed with all of the small bits of information he had gleaned about what faced him, he was interrupted as Barrett began speaking again, “The Arena will give to this criminal what he deserves, but it is important we also recognize the human component of our system of law. The man who captured the murderer so that justice could be granted to the fallen,” Barretts voice swelled with energy and conviction as he gestured grandly to a massive, brooding shape in the crowd that Conrad didn’t know how he had missed seeing for so long, “Come forward and be recognized, hero of Great Pines, Karno Raborus! The Tower!”

Hatred and frustration mixed with the already heightened anxiety of the entire situation as Conrad made eye contact with the man who had betrayed him, who had tricked him into coming here to rescue people from what? Participation in a society he himself didn’t approve of?

The thunderous applause and cheering of the crowd seemed unable to move the man, tall and powerful, a perfect picture of the indifference of justice. He was a hero standing among common men and women.

Then, only visible as Conrad made eye contact with the large man, an emotion separate entirely from the persona of ‘The Tower’ escaped the mask and disappeared only a moment later.

But Conrad had seen it. And in the circumstances, in the depth of the betrayal that had led him to this platform he would never have imagined it possible for Karno to feel it and yet, he could not be more certain of what he had seen.

Regret.