Brought by Chains

[Jin'Rah]

The cell was dark,cold, and desolate. Small beams of light glimmered through the metal bars which made up what they called a window. A fearless warrior had been captured, captured and turned into a mindless being that felt no emotion, nor felt pain. Laying there, on the cold concrete floor, he heard foot steps thundering closer to his enclosed block which he called home. He knew this meant he was being forced to win the arena master more money. hmmph, the Arena master, what a cold hearted vile man with no simpathy for anyone but himself. Jin'rah soon met eyes with the guards , there round and plump faces became stern and angered. they muttered something in common that he couldnt understand. "Vel'dersh jak vel daneis montado." Jin'rah made no motion towards the comment, which made the guards furious. They pulled out their batons and began to beat him until he was bloody and bruised.

After beating him for a good five minutes, they dragged him down the black corridor where he would be thrown into combat. They had arrived to a door, the door that he hate became to hate. Behind that door could mean death, or more money for his master. Nothing in it for him, nothing for him to gain. It was a lose-lose situation."Lok querea hacskival" the man said releasing him of his chains. Jin'rah slumped through the doors to once again make some money.

The arena floors were dusty, The fans were drunk and rioting, bets were made and cheering thundered the stands. But hey, thats how it always was.

((open to one more))

[Khalxaen]

It was early morning and Khalxaen was walking through the Citadel. The building wasn’t as lively as the last time she had been there, so she sighed, not thinking she would get to see any action this time. The last time she went, someone dragged her along from her town to watch some battles, and she loved the fight that happened. Blood that made her itch for me, yet she hid it, frightened to think that they would find out she was a demon.

This time, she didn’t have to hide it anymore. Khalxaen could drive into a battle just for the sake of adrenaline. She wasn’t with those townspeople who thought she was an elf. She could roam Althanas without hiding her true identity, though most people still mistook her as an elf. And for those who didn’t like demons, well, to hell with them. Her scarlet eyes roamed around the halls, looking for a worthy opponent, yet not much people seemed to want to battle at that time.

A monk approached her, seeming to predict her situation. “Miss, are you looking for a battle?”

Khalxaen nodded. The monk liked her response and seemed to hide a smirk that Khalxaen had seen.

“Would you like to go against one of our trolls, for price money?”

The scarlet-eyed demon tilted her head in confusion. “Huh? What’s the catch?”

“Nothing, just that you can die.” The monk replied. “What’s wrong, you afraid?”

She raised an eyebrow at the monk. He didn’t seem like any other he had seen before. But Khalxaen thought, What the hell, there seems nobody else, anyway. Plus it sounds very rewarding.

Khalxaen followed the sniggering monk as he led her through a door. She entered it and blinked at the shouting of the crowd. So that’s where the people were—in the crowd. Probably too cowardly to be in the arena itself.

((OOC: You can describe the arena :) ))

[Jin'Rah]

As the door creaked, the shouts became deafening. Spectators were on their feet cheering as the second contender walked onto the field. Jin'rah let out a breath of relief, it was only a small girl. But the troll knew to never under estimate an arena fighter.

The blazing sun now beamed down rays of light that heated Jin'rah's skin. He ran his bulky hand across his forehead removing the sweat. It was hot as hell, and the fans loud grunts only made things worse. But there was no way out, no way to leave this putrid place behind and let life go on. He had to do what he was told, thats what he knew, thats what he was taught. He had always wanted to know what was outside those stone walls. If he had a family, a tribe. He wanted to know if anyone cared about him, whether he lived or died.

The war torn battle field was stained with blood, skulls and rotted corpses lay along the edges. The walls leading up to the crowd were atleast ten feet high, only for the safety of the fans. A small box with royal chairs and servants holding trays of snacks was atop the entire stadium. Sitting on his throne was the leader of this hell hole. His long black beard neatly combed. His rich garments perfectly pressed, no wrinkles in sight. He peered down at his money maker and gave the troll a devious smile. Jin'rah spit in his direction as a sign of hatred. He muttered something to a man honvering over him like a fly to food. The man nodded and rushed out of the spectators box.

Soon the doors slammed open behind the troll. "Here the master wants to change things up a bit. He decided to add in a few extra tools." A cartel of finely crafted weapons was wheeled out onto the stadium. The man began laying a few weapons onto the ground. Jin'rah could not wield a two handed weapon at ths time. After being beaten he had no strength to hold one. He needed light fast weapons. He noticed two small scimitars, not only were they fast and light, they were the closest thing to him. The man gave a mean smirk to the troll as he left the arena throught the small doors which led to the trolls cell. Jin'rah stood, staring at his enemy. He waited to see what powers she possesed hoping this would be a quick, easy fight. Jin'rah gazed once more to the sky, he knelt down onto his knees and muttered something that only he could hear. "Dev'rah may your winds guide me" a small gust of wind began to gather in the arena pit, the died down. "Levin may your waters cleanse me on this day, and revive me of my wounds." Water soon drenched the troll, cooling his hot skin. "Kelkar may the grounds tremble with your thunder." The ground began to shake and then it as well died down fast. "Lastly Firin, may your fire's burn through my body, and aid me when called upon." Jin'rah waited for the small show Firin would put on. Nothing happened. Jin'rah knew this is not good, Firin always was the rebellious god. He went by his watch and sometimes did not aid the shaman during combat. Firin shall aid you if he see's need to, do not ask for assistance, I can handle my powers on my own. Jin'rah nodded in the direction of the sky and then rose from the sandy floor. He stood staring at the little girl awaiting her first move.

[Khalxaen]

Khalxaen watched with awe the man finished laying out various weapons on the hard ground. Most of them were already used, probably rusted with blood. The stench of blood that was dry and stuck on the stadium made her head go faint. Ever since she was young, blood already had that effect on her. She tried so hard to her tendencies to seek out blood, and she didn’t even know that the night she was found, her face was smeared with that liquid.

The weapons were amazing, but she didn’t want to use them. She had her own Skoteinos, a short sword that had stuck with her through thick and thin. The demon trusted her sword, but she decided that the other weapons might serve useful for other reasons. For now, though, Skoteinos would be her partner.

She looked her opponent up and down, trying to figure out just what kind of creature he was. Khalxaen hadn’t been out of her village much before, so she didn’t know a lot about other races. He was huge and looked a bit intimidating, but she wasn’t going to be defeated just because she looked much weaker. The audience though otherwise, though. They yelled that there was no way a little girl was going to even scratch such a huge troll. That was it, then. He was a troll.

Khalxaen stood there and watched the troll as he seemed to be saying something. She observed the elemental effects of what he was doing, and was a bit startled when the ground began to shake. A couple of weapons slid past her, their clanging noise disturbing her Elvin-like ears. The ground stopped shaking fast, and a dagger’s hilt hit her shoe, making her frown.

Her opponent didn’t seem to be interested in making the first move. Alright then, she’d have to do it. Khalxaen didn’t really like making first moves, she was more into watching how her opponent would charge and then decide on a tactic from that. She’d have to judge from his defense, then.

No point in putting everything on the first attack. She started running towards him, her small frame of a body moving fast. Khalxaen readied her weapon and started chanting as thin spikes of air started charging at the troll. Right after the spikes did their attack, she would follow short by striking him horizontally with Skoteinos.

[Letho]

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