Niah et Sullar stepped onto the sands of The Arena to the roar of a crowd howling for blood.

Her heart was pounding steadily, as it always did when she was in The Arena.

The energy from the bloodthirsty crowd, the tension from the upcoming fight, the knowledge that today might be her last... There was no other sensation like it in the world.

She looked up and scanned the crowd with her one good eye.

The elevated stone rings of The Arena held half of the people from Tos Annat. The front row held the more wealthy Eschanti - the merchant class and other well-paid tradesmen. The middle rings held the Vaque - the labor class. The top rings held the Tossar - the nobles, in their comfortable viewing boxes. The Arena contained everyone, from all walks of life. It was the only place where the Bilat sat next to the Humans as equals, the only place where the Vaque rubbed shoulders with the Eschanti. Even the aloof Tossar participated.

They were all gathered in solidarity to watch the slave-fighters kill each other.

The crowd was rowdy and red-faced. The food & drinks flowed freely at The Arena. Half the men and women were already drunk before the fighting had even begun. They all cheered and howled for their favorite fighters. The women coquettishly called out to their favorite fighters and flashed their tits while the men cheered them on. The Arena was one of the only places where drunken revelry was permitted, and the people made full use of this permission.

Fathers brought their excited children who gripped cloth dolls modeled after their favorite fighters.

A fair portion of the crowd cheered for her. Niah was a veteran fighter, and one of the only woman slave-fighters in the country. She was popular among the Bilat and many women, but an almost equal number of Human men cheered for her.

"Las-Zioss! Las-Zioss! Las-Zioss! Las-Zioss!"

She-Beast they called her.

Part of her reveled in their adulation. For when she stepped foot in The Arena, she was a goddess of war, receiving the worship of hundreds of people. The slave-fighters were celebrities for the people. Icons for their worship. Heroes to their children that played in the streets.

A larger part of her despised them. They cheered and roared for her blood on the sand like vicious animals. They did not care that she was a slave fighting for their entertainment. They did not care that she had never had a choice but to fight for her life in The Arena. And they would not care when her throat would be slit and her body fed to the Zioss'.

She scowled her scarred face at them and returned her sharp gaze to the moment at hand.

The sun was bright, it hurt her eyes. Her and all other Bilat. It was for this reason that she painted the area around her eyes in black coal paint. She could do nothing else about it, except to grip her sword & shield tighter and keep her head pointed down.

 

The other five fighters were entering from their individual gates across from each other. All were lightly armored in leather scale - The mail unique to the slave-fighters of the Arena.

She let her one-eyed gaze examine each man. She knew most of them, either by watching them fight or by reputation.

Coming in on her left was Goran the Guul. A huge Bilat eunuch man. He was massive and strong and wielded a greataxe with absurd ease. Like all eunuch fighters, Goran was completely hairless, having been castrated as a baby. Goran was notorious for his cruelty. When he was able, he would prolong his opponents defeat and toy with them. He would often cut off each of his opponents limbs before killing them. Niah did not want to tangle with him, he was a bad match up for her. He had a solid record of twenty-two wins.

Next was The Snake, a wiry human man with a spear. The Snake was fast and deadly, and liked to strike from behind when he could, just like Niah. She was taller and a bit stronger than him, so she felt that she might have a fair shot against him as long as she kept him from pulling any trickery. He had a record of fourteen wins.

To her right was The Iron-Head. He got his name by headbutting an opponent to death. The Iron-Head was another huge man, just like Goran, except The Iron-Head was pure hard muscle and had no fat on him. He was a wild man with a long scraggly beard and hair that flowed freely. Niah kept her hair short and out of the way - long hair could interfere with your vision in a fight, and the opponent could grab it. She made a mental note of this, but decided The Iron-Head was a bad match up for her. He wielded a greathammer that would crush her shield like birdbone if it connected. She resolved herself to watch him and try to stab him in the back if she could. He was a relative newcomer with only eight wins so far.

Next was... an obvious rookie. He was a small and skinny half-Human half-Bilat man - more of a boy really. He looked terrified and was visibly shaking. They did this occasionally. Sometimes a slave would just be thrown to his death in The Arena for the joy of the crowd, or perhaps he is meant to be an example - a punishment for an unruly slave, Niah wondered. Whatever the reason, Niah resolved herself to make full use of him. As long as he lived, he would serve as a distraction so Niah could kill one of the more deadly fighters.

And directly across from her stepped out... The champion - Dalos.

As soon as he stepped out the crowd went silent with surprise, then quickly exploded with cheers. He was only a somewhat large human man, well muscled but not huge, with short neat hair slicked back. His armor was different from the rest, his was worked in gold trim. He had dark swarthy skin, which was often a sign of Tossian nobility - not something you would normally see on a slave. He raised his arms and smiled out at the crowd. Even from here, Niah could see the ecstasy on his face as he just closed his eyes and listened to the fickle crowd scream his name.

"Dalos! Dalos! Dalos!"

Niah's breath caught in her chest as she felt the beginnings of panic. 'What is The Champion doing here!? He should be at the capital!' Her mind reels. She shifted her feet nervously, and tried to take a few deep breaths to calm herself. She gripped her sword and shield tighter and looked at the other fighters.

They all seem just as nervous as she. Goran looked sick, and The Snake was as stiff as a board, completely motionless. All were terrified in some way, except for The Iron-Head who seemed to be even more excited.

'Calm yourself. You have faced the impossible before. He is not a god, he can be killed like anything else...' She thought to herself in an effort to control her rising fear.

Trying to stay in control of the situation, Niah tried to remember everything she knew about Dalos.

'He was a Slave who earned his freedom in the Arena, but what did he do with his freedom? He just continued fighting. This is why the crowd loves him. He wields only a single long curved sword with a single edge. It is almost as long as he is, and he is incredibly fast and skilled with that blade. He has a devastating record of sixty-seven wins.'

She had to make a new strategy. Hopefully she could try to get the others to team up momentarily to defeat him...

All the fighters slowly came together in the middle of the arena until they were all facing each other in a circle thirty paces apart from each other.

Dalos looked completely at ease, leaning back on his heels and gazing directly at Niah with a smirk.

She tried to ignore the bastard, and instead tried to catch the eye of The Snake. He was looking pale, but he caught the look Niah gave him. She looked at him then at Dalos and back to him. The Snake understood the look and its meaning. 'Let's work together to take him down' He gave Niah a determined nod.

Then she and the Snake turned their heads towards Goran The Guul. He still had a sick look on his face, and didn't notice their gaze. The Snake had to whistle at him to get him to notice, but he seemed yo understand Niah and The Snakes intent and nodded as well.

She looked at The Iron-Head, but he had no eyes for her, he only stared at Dalos with a manic smile while hefting his hammer.

That left the half-breed rookie... Niah took one look at him and knew he would be completely useless now. He would not even serve as a proper distraction. The poor boy was not even trained properly, he wasn't even holding his sword & shield correctly.

"Hey, ugly girl" Dalos called over to her "It won't work. Better men than you have tried." He said while only looking amused at the situation.

She ignored him, instead she focused on his torso, the way he moved. She needed every little bit of information she could glean from him. Using her head was how she won fights. She was taller than most normal men and her body was well muscled, but she knew that no matter how hard she trained - she would never be as strong or as fast as the male fighters. Plain and simply, they were bigger than her and could swing their weapons faster and harder. Her body bore the scars of trying to fight them head on. So she had to be calm, focused. She had to fight using her mind.

The crowd goes silent in anticipation, it was always like this right before the battle.

Niah grips her shield tighter, and raises it to eye level while lowering her stance. She swung her single edged curved sword in a practice swing to loosen up.

Her heart was thrumming in her chest, adrenaline flowing.

Suddenly, there is a sonorous crash, as the huge ceremonial gong is rung indicating the start of battle.

For a moment, no one moves. All the fighters stand there eyeing each other and shifting on their feet.

The tension doesn't last long however, as The Iron-Head immediately rushes at Dalos, swinging his longhammer wildly.

Dalos' footwork looked perfect. He dodged the wild hammer with just a few quick steps left and backwards.

Out of the corner of her good eye, Niah spotted the rookie boy sneaking away. She ignored it. She had no time to waste on him now. Instead She, Goran and Snake hurried to move in position around Dalos.

The Snake moved to Dalos' rear, while Niah and Goran moved to Dalos' left and right in a triangle formation.

"Stop running coward!!" The Iron-Head yells out, likely frustrated that his attacks are missing their mark. The Iron-Headed idiot raises his hammer to the sky. He then brings it down at Dalos' head with a roar.

Dalos' simply sidestepped the massive blow, which pounded down on the sand, sending a small cloud of dust in the air. And with a quick spin - sliced right through The Iron-Head's forehead. Shearing the top of the giant man's skull off and showering the sand with his blood.

The slash was almost faster than Niah could see.

The crowd screamed. Some likely in rage at their favorite fighter being killed, but most likely they screamed in pure raw bloodlust.

The Snake, Niah and Goran did not let Dalos rest and quickly closed in on him.

The dark man finally started to take the fight seriously it seemed, as he lowered his stance and slowly moved in a circle, facing each fighter in turn.

The snake steadily moved towards him, longspear flickering like the tongue of his namesake.

Goran rushed forward to give a few swings with his axe which Dalos dodged almost as easily as The Iron-Heads swings. The fat man then dodged back nimbly out of range of the long sword, despite his burly size.

At the same time, Niah flanked him and tried to thrust her blade into his side while he was pre-occupied with Goran. He dodged by throwing his lanky body backwards, and Niah had to try to block the returning slash with her sturdy wooden shield.

Impossibly, the blade kept going, right through the top of her shield.

Jerking her neck and body backwards, she just narrowly avoids the tip of the blade, which swung less than an inch away from her nose.

If she had not jerked backwards, her head would have been cut in half like the other man.

'I'm in a vulnerable position.' She rolled backwards to get some distance from the deadly swordsman. As she did, she grabbed a handful of sand in her shield hand.

Getting back a proper footing, she sees The Snake tried to skewer the Champion through the lower back. Dalos does another spinning slash, and Snake had to quickly duck to avoid decapitation.

Goran then attempted a low slash with his axe, trying to cut the monsters legs out from under him, but the man seemingly had eyes in the back of his head. Dalos jumped into the air and brought his legs up to his chest. As he lands, he kicks The Snake in the gut causing the wiry little man to tumble away.

Niah spits into her hand, then starts to rush back towards the deadly swordsman.

The greataxe of Goran swings hard at Dalos' neck. Dalos ducks the wild blow, then turns and slashes.

Right through the huge eunuch's axe handle that he tried to block the blade with, right through the big man's elbows, cutting them clean off, and right through Goran's stomach, causing his guts to spill out.

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Niah was sure of it. 'He has to be using a magic sword.' She thought, mind working rapidly. She had heard of them, but never seen one before. Only the Tossar used them.

Dalos left the dying man where he lay, screaming in agony.

Niah payed him no mind, she had no time for the dead. It was now the perfect opportunity for her strategy. She hurled what was in her hand directly at The Champions head.

Dalos then turned towards Niah only to find a wad of saliva and sand hurtling towards his face. He brought his blade up to deflect it, but it was sand. It just blew apart right in his face, causing him to clench his eyes down tight.

'It is now or never!'

She rushes towards him at the same time as The Snake. 'This is it!' She slips her broken shield off her arm and chucks it at Dalos' legs. It smacked right into his shin and he started to tumble forward. The Snake readied his spear to skewer him from behind while Niah readied her blade to strike.

 

All of a sudden, the man they were about to kill was just... gone.

She stares in confusion at the cloud of sand hanging in the air where the man used to be...

Then the Snake falls over, head tumbling away.

She is about to turn around, when she feels something hot on her right bicep, followed by a thump in the sand right next to her.

Looking down she sees a white arm on the ground, holding a sword just like hers...

Then she notices her own right arm is not there. Just a bleeding stump.

She stares down at it for what seems like a long time, then back the arm on the ground. Back and forth she stares.

Arm.

Stump.

Arm.

Stump.

Arm...

"Oh." she said lightly as the realization hits her.

She then stumbles to the ground, feeling very lightheaded.

Her rational part of her mind was screaming at her that she was losing too much blood, that she was still in a dangerous situation.

She ripped the cloth wrapping off her leg, and started to try and wrap her bleeding arm with it tightly. It took a few moments as she tried to wrap it with her non-dominant hand.

'Yes. Can't lose too much blood, people need blood in their bodies to live.' Her confused mind rambles.

She wanted to stand up, but her legs did not seem to want to work correctly, and instead she wobbled and fell backwards, landing flat on her back, breathing rapidly. It was then that she noticed the tip of a sword right in front of her eyes. She followed the sword up and up until it reached a dark man holding it, blocking out the sun.

"Hey, ugly girl." the voice holding the sword called down to her. 'Dalos...'

"You actually managed to scare me there. Even forced me to use my mana. I was not expecting that sand, or the shield you threw. I actually had fun this time, so thanks."

Ugly.

The whole reason she was a slave-fighter, was because she was ugly. She wanted to laugh but her lungs were busy drawing in as much air as they could.

Dalos then raised his arms to the sky and roared at the crowd "WHAT DO YOU WANT!?"

Even delirious as she was, she could still hear their response.

"Morr! Morr! Morr!"

Death. Death. Death.

The crowd still wanted her blood.

'Is this how it ends?' she wondered

'End.' The word had weight. She did not like it.

Heart pounding once more, she tries to get up to run, but her body does not follow orders.

Then, out of the corner of her mostly blind left eye, she could see it. A blurry shape heading towards Dalos. Her left eye was not completely blind. Although a sword had slashed through it, leaving her unable to see color or detail, she was still able to see light, rough shapes and motion. It even picked up on motion better than her normal eye.

'Yes, that's it blurry man, sneak up and kill him while his back is turned!'

The crowd was screaming at Dalos. 'The whore-borns! They will ruin it! ' With her remaining left hand she grabbed a handful of sand.

'Yes, he would never expect sand in the face...'

The blurry shape came into focus, she could now see him with her good eye. it was a man. The rookie. 'Dalos will be killed by the Rookie!' Niah wanted to giggle.

The rookie was almost upon Dalos. 'It has to be now!'

Focusing, she threw her handful of sand in the air towards Dalos' face with all her remaining might. It was pitiful, barely making it up to his face. But it did, and would serve as a distraction well enough.

The rookie thrusted his sword...

 

Then his head flew off as Dalos spun around, avoiding the sand and lopping the boy's head off.

"I didn't forget about you coward." Dalos cursed and spat on the headless corpse.

He returned his sword tip in between her eyes, but Niah ignored it and instead looked up at the sky.

The sun was too bright.

'Oros resides in the Kingdom of the Sun... I do not want to go there, the sun burns my skin. I do not want to go to the land of eternal sunburn...' She had lost the last bit of hope she had left.

The crowd kept chanting for her death.

"Morr. Morr. Morr."

Her sensitive ears picked up a different noise.

"Mercy!" A high pitched shriek, unmistakably belonging to a child. It was nearly drowned out by the roaring crowd.

But Dalos heard it as well apparently. Mercy. He whipped his head around to the direction of the noise. "MERCY!" The shriek comes once more. Dalos paused for a moment, then sheathed his long sword and sprinted across the sand away from her straight towards the noise , stopping right at the tall twelve foot wall which he then scaled like it was nothing. The crowd collectively gasps.

Standing on top of the front row, he called out and pointed. "You! Little Bilat girl! What did you say? Come over here so I can hear you!"

The crowd is deathly silent. No one could have expected this. Finally, a small girl and her father who escorted her down gingerly came towards him in the front row. Niah could see them now. A little bilat girl with big eyes, clenching a white doll to her chest and hiding behind her fathers leg. She couldn't hear the next exchange, but Dalos' booming voice addressed the crowd once more.

"You bloodthirsty bastards haven't had enough yet!? This innocent little girl cries for Mercy, and Dalos agrees! Dalos does not kill 'un-armed' women! You have had enough blood this day! This day, Dalos grants MERCY!!!" He howled at the crowd and raised his arms once more.

The audience screamed in rapture. Chanting his name like a golden god.

"DALOS! DALOS! DALOS!"

Niah, could feel the vibrations of their voice through the sand she was laying on. He insulted the crowd, refused to give them what they craved.

And they loved him for it...

Niah had tears in her eyes, relief hitting her in a wave. She would not be killed...

She then faded out of conciousness...

 

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