Music in the Meat Pit: Christoph vs. Edmund Talbott

[Christoph]

Shunk! Shunk! Shunk!

The cold air in the dimly lit slaughterhouse hung thick with the odor of blood and burnt flesh. The chamber was approximately one hundred feet long and fifty feet wide. Giant slaps of meat dangled from the ceiling in rows, dripping blood on stone floor. The center of the massive room was frigid enough to freeze one’s breath, but dozens of massive meat furnaces blazed along the long sidewalls. Their huge doors wide open, they billowed enough heat to blister skin.

Shunk! Shunk! Shunk!

The only sounds were the hellish crackle of flame from the furnaces and wet chopping sounds coming from the furthest side. In the far center of the slaughterhouse, Christopher Knighton sat and worked behind a large wooden table covered in huge chunks of bloody meat. With a slimy cleaver in hand, the chef Hierarch worked tirelessly, chopping and sectioning the beef with mechanical precision.

The familiarity of the process soothed him and allowed him to ignore how far out of his bearings he was. The chef could forget that he was a Warrior of the Pagoda, far from his home and friends. He could forget about the challenger that he was waiting for. For that moment, as Chris sat on his workbench dressed in a white coat and bloodstained apron, he was home again, doing a job that he knew and enjoyed.

Shunk! Shunk! Shunk!

The Warrior smiled. The Monks had done fine job on his arena. It wasn’t home, but it was close enough. It reminded him of the butcher shop that he used to do side jobs for in his hometown. He could accept and even enjoy his stay at the Pagoda, as unexpected as it was.

Chris had stepped through the hallowed doors of the Dajas Pagoda once before. It had been a quick stop in Scara Brae on a cargo ship from Corone to Salvar. He’d visited the great warrior temple out of boredom, and wound up fighting none other than the legendary Dan Kross. With a combination of cunning and luck, he even won. It was one of his proudest moments; he was sad to leave the island. As it turned out, the monks hadn’t forgotten him. Apparently, his victory against Dan Kross had made quite an impression. When he finally returned to Dajas Pagoda, he was recognized immediately and offered a job

How could he refuse?

Just then, the wrought-iron doors on the other side creaked loudly. His challenger had arrived. Chris sighed.

“I suppose I need to do my new job, now.”