By late afternoon I was armed and armored. I wore some of my rougher traveling clothes along with my leather armor I’d started with. At this point starting to look worse for wear even after repairing it, but in my absentmindedness I’d for some reason prioritized tailoring to getting new armor. I belted on my sword of elf slaying, my brass knuckles, my dagger, the Cat’s Bell I put on my wrist. Once I was dressed I had a light meal, and just overall just did my best to be prepared for anything. I’d never fought in an arena. I’d had a duel that I’d been incredibly fortunate to win, and I’d been in a number of life or death situations, but not in front of an audience, or at least, not in front of an audience that wasn’t reliant on my victory to survive.

I made it to the common room just a bit before Tib himself arrived looking to be at about 80%, which was a great improvement from the near death state he’d been in the morning. “You ready to head for the arena?” He asked, adjusting the sword on his hip as he spoke.

I nodded.

“How about you Zevrack?”

He nodded as well. He was wearing his new muzzle as well as his full set of other accouterments, wings, wrist dart shooters, the whole deal. He looked like a lizard on his way to a steampunk convention and I have to admit, I was a fan of the look.

“Everyone else has already headed to the arena to get seats.”

Tib nodded. “Of course they did. Well, let’s see what’s waiting for us. I think the team we’re subbing for said they’d meet us there to give us a rundown.”

“Let’s go then.”

With that we headed out onto the streets of Heracleum. I let Tib lead the way since I not only didn’t have any idea where I was, but I also had no idea how we’d gotten there from the tavern. We wound through the streets for quite some time, and eventually passed by a square that was full of people speaking, both with one another and to crowds.

I overheard a number of people talking about the dragon attack that occurred to the south, and that several patricians had sent their finest adventurers to solve the problem. From what I’d seen of the dragons, I doubted there was anyone powerful enough to slay a dragon, not with only 1000 years of preparation. They were a primal force, strong to such a degree that I never questioned Zevrack and his people’s reverence to them as gods. Something at that level basically is a god. Making an alternative distinction is pointless.

In the middle of the square were roughly a dozen men. They were wearing simple black robes tied at the waist with silver cord. Their arms were showing and along them were tattoos of chains with varying numbers of links for each of them. I paused for a moment to hear what they were talking about.

“This world. It is young, new, and full of potential. We have the opportunity to make it a paradise of peace, equality and fairness. We, The Bound Men, offer the one true path to this. Through the art of binding, we can make ourselves perfect. We can turn the words of who we wish to be into absolute truths. When you are bound, you are unable to be lazy, or selfish, to go back on promises, to tell lies. You are only able to be the self you truly want to be. If we all become these perfect versions of ourselves, then we will make this world into the paradise it’s potential means it could be.”

Even as he spoke I saw a number of people stopping and listening. I suppose it was a relatively decent pitch. Seemed a bit dangerous though. Anything that could bind someone to the words they said seemed like an easy way to put yourself in a monkey’s paw situation. Zevrack tugged on my sleeve and I fell back in behind Tib who was looking back at me and waiting.

“You seen those types before?” I asked.

Tib looked back at the men in their robes and shook his head. “No. Think I’ve heard about them though. I know that aside from this proselytizing they also broker deals between merchants and seal unions between husbands and wives. They’re new though. I think they started over in Kingsland. Millicent may know more of them.”

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Before we fully exited the square I bumped into a robed figure and was forced to come to a stop.

“Sorry about that,” I muttered, starting to move around the man. He was roughly my height, and just a little broader. His face was hidden by a hood, and before I could move around him he spoke to me.

“You want to join the bound men.”

I looked at him, he’d phrased it more like an order than a question. “No. Not really.”

The man’s head shook in surprise and I saw his mouth open a little. “I said you want to join the bound men.” He put a lot of extra emphasis on the words.

I sighed and just pushed past him. “Sorry buddy, I ain’t buying what you’re selling.” and then left him and walked out of the square. I took a short look behind myself at him and saw that he was still looking after me, his mouth agape as I walked away.

“Weird,” muttered Zevrack.

I nodded at him. “Agreed.”

After that we didn’t have any more difficulty as we moved toward the arena. Thinking it over, the decisions of my drunken self may have been good. I mean, they weren’t made because they were good, but they might turn out to be, and that’s the same thing as having a good idea as far as I was concerned.

I would be accomplishing a number of good things simultaneously with this little tourney. I’d be getting in good with some fellow adventurers, becoming more recognizable and well known, and getting a chance to test my skill against seasoned professionals. There was a chance I’d get absolutely demolished of course, and have all of those things hurt rather than help me, but that’s just the kind of life I’ve had since I’d arrived. It was pretty much all or nothing every time.

I made a mental note to dump some points into PER and LCK next time I had the chance. With the way I wanted things to go, those attributes would be more and more valuable to me as time went on.

The arena came into view, and it was exactly what I was hoping it would be. A miniature version of the Roman coliseum, but painted a distinct red on the outside, as if blood had dried on it. I could see people moving in, excited to go see combatants spill blood. When we’d almost reached the entrance, three women approached us.

One was a massive orc, wearing armor that would have led to a game studio being called out on twitter, a human woman in leather armor similar to mine, and a third wearing a see-through toga that reminded me of Tristus. All three of them were sporting bandages, crutches or other obvious indicators that they’d been injured. How they’d convinced me to go through all this was clear. I was an idiot, they were pretty, and I was drunk. Now I know I’m not the only man to make a decision based on these factors, but… I’m not exactly proud that I was so susceptible to it.

“Cor! Tib! Glad you showed up,” said the orcish woman, waving as we approached.

“I’d forgotten actually. Tiberius was nice enough to remind me,” I said as we closed in.

The women laughed and the one in the sheer toga spoke up. “That doesn’t surprise me. Not many people attempt to go drink for drink with Krush.”

“Who's your third?” asked the woman in leather.

“This is Zevrack. He’s my companion and friend.”

Zevrack nodded and held out his hand. All three of the women’s faces shifted just a bit as they went from recognizing how adorable he was, to seeing the sheer amount of death dealing gear he seemed to have attached to himself. They shook his hand.

“So, what do we need to know before we go in there?” asked Tib. “I haven’t watched a fight at the arena since I was a boy.”

Krush spoke up. “Well, it’s triples. Rules are simple. First team to have all three fighters either yield or be unable to continue, loses. No obvious attempts at killing, but accidents are forgiven. No restrictions on weapons or magic.”

That was all about what I’d expected, but it was nice to have it clarified. “What do you know about our opponents?” I asked.

The woman in leather spoke this time. “They call themselves ‘The Tribunal’, they won the triples tournament two years ago. It’s a mage, a master swordsman, and a man who favors a massive club. They’re tough, know how to work as a team, and are widely expected to win the tournament this year.”

Tib was holding the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “Excellent. This can only go well then.”

I sighed, and looked over to the three women. “Did I have fun last night?”

The women exchanged a look and Krush smiled at me before saying “Absolutely.”

“Good. Just wanted to make sure it was worth what we’re about to go through in there.”

Zevrack took another step toward the entrance. “Don’t worry. I can take two of them. You two handle the other.”

Tib shot me what I think he believed was a subtle look.

I shrugged back at him. “I believe him. Let’s do this.”