Post by JezusBagels on Sept 1, 2010 14:08:45 GMT -5
Llane ascended the stairs to his private booth, high above the arena. He sat in his throne with a small sigh of satisfaction, stroking Krogel and eagerly awaiting the coming attraction. His men had ransacked a ship crossing from Gallica to Araluen and brought in dozens of new slaves, as well as a couple of new fighters. Llane had decided to stop putting 'just anyone' in the ring. The weak ones didn't make for much sport and if there was no sport, patrons didn't make bets, and without bets, Llane made no money. And money was the ultimate goal, after all, so changes had to be made.
One of the captives was an older mercenary who claimed to be from Gallica, though his features caused Llane to doubt that. What was his name? Perry? It was a stupid name, but it had taken ten men to subdue this Perry, so he seemed a worthy enough combatant.
The other was a woman. Llane was tentative about this decision, but his men had discovered a rather plentiful collection of dangerous, pointy objects on her person. Two bandits died bringing her in. She was fiesty, that one. Kady, was it? No... Kadara! Llane furrowed his brow, depressed by his fading memory in old age. In any case, he determined that this woman was an assassin and, as such, was proper game for the arena.
The gates opened and the two unfortunate captives were shoved into the blood spattered dirt in the ring, doors slamming shut and locking behind them. Llane cleared his throat, took a deep breath and, in a voice that rang throughout the giant chamber, shouted, "Begin!"
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Kadara stood up and dusted herself off. She eyed her opponent up and down. She'd seen him on the ship. He was strong, and now he was wearing armor and wielding a giant sword. The bandits had given her a choice of weapons and armor. She'd taken two daggers. It was a reasonable assumption that his gear belonged to their captors as well. Now he was charging towards her, sword above his head. She braced herself to dodge.
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Tolsk knew how the Arena worked. He'd visited a few times himself in his life but never expected to be one of the fighters in the ring. He was aware that it was kill-or-be-killed around here. He didn't intend to die today. He saw his opponent, a small woman with two short blades at her side. No time to waste. Take her down before she gets the jump on you. He lifted his weapon of choice, a broadsword, and charged, praying for a quick and easy resolution.
One of the captives was an older mercenary who claimed to be from Gallica, though his features caused Llane to doubt that. What was his name? Perry? It was a stupid name, but it had taken ten men to subdue this Perry, so he seemed a worthy enough combatant.
The other was a woman. Llane was tentative about this decision, but his men had discovered a rather plentiful collection of dangerous, pointy objects on her person. Two bandits died bringing her in. She was fiesty, that one. Kady, was it? No... Kadara! Llane furrowed his brow, depressed by his fading memory in old age. In any case, he determined that this woman was an assassin and, as such, was proper game for the arena.
The gates opened and the two unfortunate captives were shoved into the blood spattered dirt in the ring, doors slamming shut and locking behind them. Llane cleared his throat, took a deep breath and, in a voice that rang throughout the giant chamber, shouted, "Begin!"
___________________________________
Kadara stood up and dusted herself off. She eyed her opponent up and down. She'd seen him on the ship. He was strong, and now he was wearing armor and wielding a giant sword. The bandits had given her a choice of weapons and armor. She'd taken two daggers. It was a reasonable assumption that his gear belonged to their captors as well. Now he was charging towards her, sword above his head. She braced herself to dodge.
___________________________________
Tolsk knew how the Arena worked. He'd visited a few times himself in his life but never expected to be one of the fighters in the ring. He was aware that it was kill-or-be-killed around here. He didn't intend to die today. He saw his opponent, a small woman with two short blades at her side. No time to waste. Take her down before she gets the jump on you. He lifted his weapon of choice, a broadsword, and charged, praying for a quick and easy resolution.