A tale from the archives of Cbuddy, the Rogue of Quills.
Again, I have returned. Only this time under the assumed new title of rogue. Now, in no way am I to be seen as a thief or thug. However, there have been days when I have found ways to acquire gratis writing utensils, hence the name. Of course, this will not affect the flow of my story in the least. So I implore you to sit and enjoy some of the delectable wine from the elves of Lyrenwood and equally enjoy my story. I know you will, of course.
I believe, before you start, that a background story is in order. The subject of the tale, Renji, is a lizardman. Normally, you would think that these creatures are fiercely tribal and even evil to the standards of ignorant folks. However, if one intelligent enough, like myself, examines the race more closely, you would find that they are not evil but more loyal to themselves than anything else.
Ahollen is the city known for its gladiator stadiums and events. Slaves are regularly traded like wares for house chores or, if they're strong enough, pitted against one another in the arenas for money. The top wealthy population of Ahollen is the group of people that got lucky enough in their bets at the arenas. Their slaves were equally lucky in that they stayed alive. There is no preference to race when it comes to battle, therefore it is not uncommon to see all manner of folks fighting each other.
Combatants are given a weapon of their choice, which means anything within the owner's price range while remaining non-magical, and pitted against each other. Survivors are congratulated and imprisoned until their next battle. Quite a spectacle to be sure.
The only way to be released from the tortures of gladiator life is through the mercy of a master or through death.
Chapter One
Renji stood at the entrance of the gated entryway to the arena, twirling his short sword in anticipation. His rounded buckler hit the wall in rhythmic intervals which was almost louder than the endless droning of his master's voice.
The skinny, balding man was almost squealing with that annoying voice of his. "Don't think that just cause ye won one arena fight that you'll survive another one. Don't get cocky. These are experienced guys. Watch out for the one with the mask on, he's won four times in a row. Crowd favorite he is."
Renji hissed at the mention of the fat excuse of a warrior Grum. All he did was stand aside while all the combatants killed each other, then eliminate the remaining tired fighter with a swipe of his axe. The lizardman spit at the thought of having to put up with the man. He would kill him with his superior agility and take the spoils. Taking down Grum's legs with his scaled tail would be fun.
The master was still yelling at Renji when there came a blaring of trumpets. Warriors, fearing for their live or ready to deal out death, stormed by the lizardman. He was about to follow when his master's hand grabbed his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. His large lizard-like eyes whipped around to face the man.
Renji had had it with the annoying bastard. His voice was a deep hiss, ever-present due to his nature. "If you don't get your clammy flesh off me, I swear to my freedom that I'm going to cut them off. I know what I'm doing!"
He slammed his shield in to the master's gut, knocking him to the wall. He didn't actually want to kill him, he would never receive his freedom that way. Flicking his tongue at the crumbled form of a man, Renji walked out to the arena, his tail trailing behind him. His hunched figure emerged in to sunlight , greeted by deafening cheers from the crowd. The arena leader signaled to the trumpets and they let out another blaring breath, signaling the beginning of the fight.
Renji raised his buckler and charged in to the crowd of combatants.
Again, I have returned. Only this time under the assumed new title of rogue. Now, in no way am I to be seen as a thief or thug. However, there have been days when I have found ways to acquire gratis writing utensils, hence the name. Of course, this will not affect the flow of my story in the least. So I implore you to sit and enjoy some of the delectable wine from the elves of Lyrenwood and equally enjoy my story. I know you will, of course.
I believe, before you start, that a background story is in order. The subject of the tale, Renji, is a lizardman. Normally, you would think that these creatures are fiercely tribal and even evil to the standards of ignorant folks. However, if one intelligent enough, like myself, examines the race more closely, you would find that they are not evil but more loyal to themselves than anything else.
Ahollen is the city known for its gladiator stadiums and events. Slaves are regularly traded like wares for house chores or, if they're strong enough, pitted against one another in the arenas for money. The top wealthy population of Ahollen is the group of people that got lucky enough in their bets at the arenas. Their slaves were equally lucky in that they stayed alive. There is no preference to race when it comes to battle, therefore it is not uncommon to see all manner of folks fighting each other.
Combatants are given a weapon of their choice, which means anything within the owner's price range while remaining non-magical, and pitted against each other. Survivors are congratulated and imprisoned until their next battle. Quite a spectacle to be sure.
The only way to be released from the tortures of gladiator life is through the mercy of a master or through death.
Chapter One
Renji stood at the entrance of the gated entryway to the arena, twirling his short sword in anticipation. His rounded buckler hit the wall in rhythmic intervals which was almost louder than the endless droning of his master's voice.
The skinny, balding man was almost squealing with that annoying voice of his. "Don't think that just cause ye won one arena fight that you'll survive another one. Don't get cocky. These are experienced guys. Watch out for the one with the mask on, he's won four times in a row. Crowd favorite he is."
Renji hissed at the mention of the fat excuse of a warrior Grum. All he did was stand aside while all the combatants killed each other, then eliminate the remaining tired fighter with a swipe of his axe. The lizardman spit at the thought of having to put up with the man. He would kill him with his superior agility and take the spoils. Taking down Grum's legs with his scaled tail would be fun.
The master was still yelling at Renji when there came a blaring of trumpets. Warriors, fearing for their live or ready to deal out death, stormed by the lizardman. He was about to follow when his master's hand grabbed his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. His large lizard-like eyes whipped around to face the man.
Renji had had it with the annoying bastard. His voice was a deep hiss, ever-present due to his nature. "If you don't get your clammy flesh off me, I swear to my freedom that I'm going to cut them off. I know what I'm doing!"
He slammed his shield in to the master's gut, knocking him to the wall. He didn't actually want to kill him, he would never receive his freedom that way. Flicking his tongue at the crumbled form of a man, Renji walked out to the arena, his tail trailing behind him. His hunched figure emerged in to sunlight , greeted by deafening cheers from the crowd. The arena leader signaled to the trumpets and they let out another blaring breath, signaling the beginning of the fight.
Renji raised his buckler and charged in to the crowd of combatants.