The crowd roared the sounds of many pitiful boos, cheers and curses as they waited for the battle to begin. The various grey and white clouds speckled the skies above, covering over the rising sun. Various rays of light down upon the sand, giving off an eerie, radioactive-looking yellow glow. The battlestand was full of people of all sorts, merchants, beggars and even a few rich residents of the city. Today would be a glorious one for those who loved bloodshed and battle; today would be the day that the battlestands two most prized warriors fought in combat. The two fighters had overcome many others to gain the position they were at now, they had even slain a few beasts to get were they now were. And now the crowd sat, waiting, just waiting for those iron-wrought gates to open and the battle to begin. The arena went silent temporarily, the blazing heat burning down upon them like fire, making them hot and thirsty. Suddenly a loud voice boomed upon the arena like somebody yelling in you ear, breaking the silence of the moment. “COMBATANTS READY? OPEN THE GATES!” With those five words, the crowd got to there feet, cheering for the two warriors as they entered the battle-stand.
*************
Hours before..
Unkor sat in the small wooden room, resting his head against the stone wall of his “locker” room. Humming a tune he just sat there, waiting for the clock to strike six, that is when the battle would truly begin. He tried to clear his old mind of all things close to him, so that when he entered the arena, he would not cower. This would be his battle here; his very last. In his mind he had told himself this many times before, told himself that he would never fight again, however all those times he did fight again, purely for the gold he earnt after all was said and done. But he was serious this time, this would be the final battle he would fight here. If he died: well, then he was dead. But if he lived, he would leave the city and wander the lands, trying to reach the path of enlightenment, the path of a true paladin.
Suddenly the wooden door creaked open, revealing a short man, who peered into the room, looked around and sat beside the gladiator, staring up at him with beady eyes. “So, you fighting?” He asked, as Unkor met his glaze. “Of course I am. I am a gladiator, am I not?” Unkor replied valiantly, slamming his fist into the shield by his side, showing his pride. “Ahh. Of course.” The stubby halfling replied, obviously trying to start conversation with Unkor. “Erm.. So, if you do win this duel, you’ll become champion, you know that?” He said, Unkor started to suspect something, it was like his supervisor knew that he was going to leave afterwards.
“Erm. Of course I will.” He said, abruptantly moving his eyes away from the short man. “Unkor, I do know what is going on. Your going to leave the city aren’t you? Flee the place, and pray that you find a safe place to stay. I’m right, Moglins right, isn’t he?!” The halfling said, twitching around like a maniac. “Cause, cause you know If you do happen to leave, I am going to tell the guards!” He said, trying to threaten the warrior. “What is this treachery?” Unkor said, flicking a shortsword into his hand and pressing it against the creatures esophageus. “You little swine..” He said, holding onto the cross that was attached to his necklace. “I should slay you where you stand, you nasty little gull.” Unkor roared, his voice becoming serious and deep.
“Please, no please!” The traitor said, moving its right hand down its leather tunic. Quickly it leapt forward, revealing a small dagger hidden away in the tunic, somehow it managed to dodge the blade, driving its own into the gladiators stomache. Unkor moved back, groaning, watching the creature as he leapt out of the door and ran off, to who knows where. “Little.. twit..” Unkor said, holding the wound on his stomache, the crimson liquid spilling out over his hands, dripping down onto the wooden floor. Unkor put on his helmet, collected his sword and shield and slowly walked out into the arena, still trying to subside the pain. “COMBATANTS READY? OPEN THE GATES!”
***************
The sun shone down brightly upon the battle stand, causing the sand below their feet to go hot, which was not a very liked thing if you fought near bare-footed, like Unkor had. “Here we go. Live or die, its now.” Unkor said, jumping down on the spot while twisting his wrist around and cracking his neck. He had never seen the opponent, so had no clue what race they were, what tactics they used, or anything that could be helpful to him. “FIGHT!” The battle had started. Unkor continued to jump around back and forth on the spot, waiting for his opponent to reveal themselves. It seemed that they were smarter than Unkor would have thought originally, but they were an arena champion, just like Unkor, so he could expect no less.
“Come out..” He said, scouring his eyes around the sandy battlefield for any signs of potential movement. He was no longer hopping around, his stretching period was ended, and now was the time to fight. Slowly he placed his right foot forward, extending his other leg back half-way. His shield guarded his chest area, as he held his sword behind it. He had learnt this style himself through his years of training; it involved a defensive posture, being able to block when the opponent struck, then to hit the opponent with a single jab when their guard was down. Unkor had basically mastered this style now, and had used it to defeat many enemies throughout his years fighting.
“Come on..” He said again, the battle had been going for roughly two minutes, and neither of the combatants had even made a move yet, which seemed to be getting to the crowd. Unkor bent down onto one knee and picked up some grains of sand on his fingertips, letting them fall back to the floor between his fingers. “There..” He thought, looking over to his left. “My opponent is there..” Quickly he started left, moving as if he was dancing, another one of his techniques that ensured he was not hit easily. A cold chill ran down the warriors spine as he turned around to meet his opponent. “A drow?” He said, looking up at the warrior that stood before him, his arms folded, a large claymore slammed into the ground beside him. “Of course I am a drow.. Have you not seen us fight yet? Very well then, let us start.” The drow jumped down from the small block of stone and landed gracefully on his feet, heaving the heavy blade from the ground. “Bye bye.”
Quickly it progressed at him, roaring like a rabid animal. It had already fallen for his trap; and was going to die quickly. Unkor resumed his stance, holding the blade out behind his shield. The drow struck him hard, which was not what he had intended for off the start, causing him to lose balance and stumble backwards. The drow struck again, just hitting the gladiators exposed flesh, digging deeply into the skin. “Geez.” Unkor said moving back and resuming the stance. Now he had two wounds in his gut, the second one just a bit lower than the cheap-shot he had received by that swine of a halfling. But he was a fighter, and sure as hell was not going to give up that easily.
The drow charged forwards again, striking rapidly, missing every hit he struck with. “Not gunna win like that,” Unkor taunted, slashing a quick one at the Drows head, cutting off one of its dreadlocks. “Damn. Missed.” Unkor said, continuing to step back and dodge the blows. The drow would become fatigued much quicker than the man would, at this rate the battle would last no longer than five more minutes. And so he was right. Another two minutes passed and the drow was nearly out of breath, swinging small, weak miniature blows at its opponent, barely being able to move. “Bye then.” Unkor said, raising the blade high above his head and ramming it into the top of the drows head. An awkward cracking noise was heard, the splitting of the skull. Crimson blood poured from the top of the drows head, seeping down and into its open mouth. “Yuk.” Unkor smirked, ripping the blade from the skull and wiping the blood off using the drows tunic.
“Now time to go.” He said, throwing his sword carelessly into its scabbard and heading out of the battlestand, ignoring the various comments of the audience. “Him! Get ‘im!” A voice cackled, which Unkor identified as his supervisor, Moglin, who had obviously told him off. The guards came charging after the new champion, roaring out "Stop!" and "Hault!" and other orders that Unkor simply could not do. Shrugging, he started to run towards the gate he entered from, the guards on his tail.
* O P E N *