Save Money - Live Better

[Venessian]

"I am sorry, and for the last time, Ai'Brone accepts warriors of all creeds and dispositions into the hallowed halls of combat. If it bothers you so, I suggest you leave to see more of the world and return at a later time," the bald-headed monk stated flatly, with a fake smile. He had maintained his composure during the entire encounter but his debating partner, a slender young warrior wearing designer chainmail and black-rimmed glasses, flushed with anger and revulsion. An outrageous and entitled human, the young man shook his fist in the monk's face.

"No, its disgusting. I'll leave, okay? But not 'cause you made your little joke, or called me out or whatever. I'm leaving because you allow assholes like that come in here, and do all that... all that archaic bullshit to a defenceless animal, alright? It’s not cool man. Not cool."

The plain-robed monk with his neatly shaven head, bobbed his shoulders in a quick shrug and smiled again insincerely. "Blessings of the Battle-God on you my friend.

"I have a friend who works at the Chronicle okay? And he's gonna hear about this. This place is finished. Have a nice life," the snide fighter said vehemently, waving his hand in a rude gesture as he turned away and stormed off into the sunlight through the open and welcoming front doors of the monastery.

If the monk could laugh he would have, but he was forbidden by the tenements to do so. Instead he shrugged, turning to face east of the main entrance, down a short but wide stone hallway that ended at a single black door tall enough for a giant to pass through comfortably. The massive portal was featureless, save for an appropriately sized iron door handle. The remnants of the monk's smile slowly faded.

In front of the door, Venessian the Betrayer knelt before the corpse of a freshly slain raven, its neck twisted at an awkward angle. Beside the bird rested a rickety bronze cage with the door ajar, an iron-clad tome opened to a page with an inked diagram, and a worn leather pack containing spell-components, sundries and the goat-man's other belongings. A white staff of ash leaned against the wall nearby.

Rummaging through the satchel, the necromancer retrieved a stained wooden bowl filled with dried tea-leaves and placed it beside the raven. He lifted the bird with one large white-furred hand, wrapping the other around the bird's head and encompassing it completely, before twisting it for a second time and separating head from body. Squeezing gently, Ven skillfully shot the initial gout of blood away from his belongings and onto the monastery floor, and when the flow reduced he slowly traced a purposeful spiral onto the tea-leaves inside the vessel. After the stream of red liquid reduced to a dribble, Ven's muscular hand clenched tighter and violently, forcing several mushy pink and red organs to spill forth from deep inside the bird into the bowl with a squelch. Ven cast aside the bird husk, taking one finger and squishing the mixture, circling his finger rapidly clockwise, using the digit as a makeshift pestle. He looped his finger around the circumference of the bowl exactly twelve times, before removing his finger and gazing madly into the mess.

Although humanoid in body, the necromancer's head was that of a noble ibex, with shaggy, unkempt white fur, and a pair great black horns protruding from the top that curved and ran the length of his back. Completely covered in the snowy fur, most of the necromancer’s body was exposed, wearing only a dull orange loincloth to preserve his modesty. In place of human legs were the powerful rear appendages of a mountain goat, with bent joints and black cloven hooves. His eyes were inky black pools, pupilless and fixed on the gory mash inside of the wooden boul. Venessian's jowls curled back in a sneer, exposing his yellowing, flat teeth. He had divined the answer he sought.

"Weeeeak," the ibexian bleated in the common tongue. "Venessian's opponent will be a meek one. Unworthy, unfit, yesss..."

Ven scooped out the goop from the bowl with his fingertips and flung it on the sacred stone floor, then gathered his possessions, smearing raven blood and sage on them as he did so, uncaring. Bringing a hoof under him, the slender wizard rose to his full height of over six-feet and turned his attentions on the great door before him, collecting his staff. His hooves clip-clopped on the stone floor as he strode forwards, trampling a small clump of his mess. His disproportionately large hand grasped the door handle tentatively.

Nearby, having witnessed the entire occult ritual, the Citadel curator drew breath and exhaled loudly from his nose. Although the necromancer's intended opponent had withdrawn from the match, as soon as a door to the illusionary battlefields of the Arena were opened, a battle was destined to ensue. The monk turned away from the grisly spectacle in the hallway and the business of evil wizards and black doors, and shuffled down another of the Citadel's countless hallways to clear his mind elsewhere. Now that the battle had begun, fate would deliver an opponent.

Venessian closed his eyes and pulled on the door, which opened effortlessly. As he passed through the portal the door swung shut behind him of its own accord, and Ven felt a fresh breeze flow through his fur. Day had given way to night and the black door vanished out from behind the necromancer along with the Citadel itself. In its place was a vast, open space, the ground paved black and covered with bold white lines painted in evenly spaced increments. Tall poles had been erected all through the area and bright white floodlights atop the metal poles illuminated the open lot. A paper cup with a bold, arched, yellow "M" rolled along the asphalt in the breeze, creating a rattling racket and the only audible sound. Straight ahead was a building not unlike an immense warehouse with uninspiring blocky architecture. In the middle of the complex's broad front was row of glass wall-panels beneath a massive sign, larger than any the ibexian had seen in any human marketplace in Althanas. The lettering of the sign was bold and had light of its own from unseen source behind the lettering, and very clearly displayed one word:

"Walmart."