Not too far from where Naunix stood a sound echoed from the center of the desert. The sound was unmistakably that of a large gate whose hinges had been at rest for well over a century. A silence fell upon the oasis shortly after the massive metal entrance had opened up it’s arms once more, beckoning those near and far to come to the slaughter that had taken Naunix’s father so long ago.
The silence was broken by the sound of a Naunix’s boot slamming into the head of a corpse. The thump was shortly followed by the grisly sound of a blade being ripped from the warped wound that had once been the face of an arrogant man. Naunix wiped the mess from his grosse messer off onto the dead mans tunic and proceeded to sheath the pitch-black blade by his right hip with the hilt pointing down at the ground. With no press for time he strolled his way over to where his second blade was resting. The beautifully crafted pure-white twin was protruding from the stomach of a man whose hands still clawed at the ground he laid on.
The man gripped the blade and attempted to pull it from his abdomen. As he endeavored to yank the blade free it’s weight seemed to triple with each attempt. Finally he gave up and resorted to insulting his soon-to-be killer “You filthy piece of shit…Damn the whore of a woman who birthed you and may the bastard that gave you life rot in the depths of hell forever!” He shouted, his face losing color with each word.
Naunix now stood over the man who had clearly given up on any attempt to survive. Naunix leaned in closer to the man until he was eye to eye with him and spoke: “Even with your last breath you cling so tightly to the hatred your god has declared I be given. Pathetic…” Naunix then removed the blade from the man with less effort than is required to pluck a flower from a garden.
“You’re going to burn you filthy, half-blo…” Naunix’s foot slammed into the side of the man’s face snapping his neck and cutting short his vile cries for vengeance. Naunix ambled over to the clearing of the tree line and wiped his second blade off on what little grass remained between the now bloodied tropical paradise and the wasteland-ish desert that lie ahead. He sheathed the sword above his left shoulder, the hilt facing towards the sky and continued onward towards the ancient city of death…
…Upon arriving outside the entrance to the kingdom of demise Naunix promptly read the engraved stone and continued onward, already assured of his answer to the question. As Naunix reached the fountain, the first thing to catch his eye was the feline-resembling creature that seemed to be constructed of precious jewels. Although the creature was a sight to behold Naunix did not have the time nor the reason to inquire further and moved towards the stack of wooden boxes. It was immediately clear that these were provisions of some type and the contents of each one would become important at one time or another.
As Naunix reached for one of the boxes his hand stopped just before covering the writing engraved upon it…~Hmm I must find a way to live…I’m sure the lousy bastards who constructed the contest want to sound as mysterious as possible, huh?~ He thought as he snatched up one of the cases and tucked it under his arm. Naunix then moved his attention to the notice placed upon the fountain on which the gem-crafted beast rested.
After familiarizing himself with what seemed to be the only instructions to the arena Naunix looked up at the animal and smiled. “Your masters sure are some sick creatures huh? Give us one night of safety and rest and then at dawn they watch, as their glorious bloodbath is unleashed. They better pray to whatever god they believe in that I don’t win this thing” Naunix threatened, half-sure that the creators that he already despised overheard his comment. “Who am I kidding, my remarks are probably falling on deaf ears huh? You either enjoy the sickening games as much as them or can’t comprehend a word I’m saying…either way it seems as though I’m already losing it.”…After his short conversation, with what Naunix assumed was just himself and his conscience’s attempt of comic relief, he made his way further into the city in search of a suitable place to stay the night.