A sea of spectators, hungry for blood and sport, gaze eagerly down upon the sand circle of the arena. The games run all day, and many of those in the stands intend to stay for every fight, to get their silver's worth. Pacing about the sands of the battleground is a crowd favorite, Orun the Wanderer. His bronze armor shines, and his cape wafts behind him as he lifts his spear to the cheers of the crowd. He has been allowed a great honor today, and with pleasure he addresses the crowds on behalf of the Coliseum's Master. "Auldus Vull runs late today," he announces in his deep, booming voice. "But he will not disappoint you, dear people, by postponing the games and cheating you out of your rightful entertainment! There will be no further ado! Release the beasts! My spear is hungry for blood!" The crowd roared, and so did the creatures behind the gates that clanked open. As soon as the metal lowered to the ground, a triplet of lionesses were coaxed out with torches, and the gates were brought closed again. Orun roared back at them, and raises his spear as the first charged. The spear's tip caught the she-beast on the flank, and she recoiled back as Orun pulled the spear free. The second of the three flanked him on the left side, and he flared his cape in her direction to block his body from view. She swiped through the cape with her claws. The clothe tore, and her strike drew blood from Orun's arm. It dripped into the arena, baptizing it for the day. Orun turned his spear and plunged it into her mouth. The beast fell with a pitiful groan, and Orun pulled the spear free and flung it at the furthest of the creatures. It struck her in the throat, leaving only the one with a wounded flank. His sword was already in his hand, and he kept his cape over his left arm and crouched low as she stalked him. When she pounced, he flared his cape again, throwing it over her head as she tackled him to the ground. There was a tense moment of silence from the crowd, but it broke as Orun pushed the lioness off of him, pulling his blade from out of it's chest. He raised the bloodstained blade to the cheers of the crowd, and called back to them again. "But a taste! Next, come two new combatants. From the mountains of Ironthorn, a recent acquisition of the Coliseum, Alexander! And, facing him, a condemned man from the outskirts of the Anaxan empire, Angelo! Raise your voices in support! Place your coins for wager! Get ready to see some new blood!" With that, Orun turned with a swish of his cape and made his way back to the great wooden doors set in the side wall. They opened for him, and he stepped in to look at the two about to fight their first fight. They had been untethered, and were unarmored and unarmed. Racks on the wall had shields, spears, swords axes nets and ropes. "Alright, boys. Grab yourself a good piece of steel and get out there. Bit of advice," he raised his left arm to show the gash, "They love them some blood. Don't walk away without shedding at least a drop. I hear you both can fight, so go show them. Good luck."

Alexander smiled when he heard that he was up for a fight, especially when he saw a recent donation of ironthorn steel to the weapons of the arena. He'd been training for months for this, ever since his master had bought the new slave boy. He knew the master would never just give him away, but he had been sure he could convince the old man to sell him to the Coliseum. The old man had been a regular. And, as a gift of sorts, the old man had given a bit of memorabilia but he came from the same people who would sold Alexander to him, to the Coliseum. Alexander was already wearing the armor that had obviously been that of his father, and quickly he picked up the blade of ironthorn make. the owner had actually been gifted straight to him and about dinner had wished to you could have sold it and quickly been able to unenslave himself but he wasn't willing to go that cowardly route that would be disreputable to his father. Stepping out and he remembered what the previous person had said about taking blood, so he mentally reminded himself to allow a couple of attacks through his guard. As he walked across the sands of the pit he wondered how much of a warrior of that poet's heritage could really have sired. "Hail, son of the muses, let us do battle honorably."

Angelo sighed loudly as he walked to the arena entrance, just fight kill them and leave. Angelo wanted to go back home and be free he didn't want to die with any regrets and if he dies here he wont be able to do everything he wanted to back home so Angelo couldn't afford to loose. As Angelo walked into the arena of sand he saw his opponent calling out to do battle honorably but what was honorable about fighting in a pit for some fat nobles amusement? Angelo grabbed both his swords tightly as he moved father into the arena the gate closing behind him and while Angelo could kill him with a charge while he was distracted Angelo wasn't going to be seen as dishonorable to his opponent even if he is going to kill him "pray to your gods before I kill you! I don't want you to have regrets when your blood colors the sand!" Angelo called out to his opponent to get his attention which got him a cheer from the audience who was crying out for exactly what Angelo said, blood on the sand...

Smileing Nero drew his blade and looked delicately down it at his opponent, _well_ he supposed _better give this crowd a show. Flourishing his weapon all those years as a little boy came back to him, first all the training in fighting then all the diplomacy he had needed in his master's home. Especially when he had a girl over, things would get weird.... _No!_ he thought directly _back to fighting_ but that momentary distraction allowed his opponent a chance to get the first strike.

Garvus watched as the next fight after Orun was about to begin. "Fight well!" Garvus called out cheerily from the side lines to both fighters, Nero and Angelo, who Garvus has been watching fight a lot in the arena lately. Garvus has been awaiting this match for a long time and the gods have smiled upon this day to grant Garvus the honour of watching two stupendous fighters battle under the same sun. When Orun would eventually come back to watch, Garvus slapped his huge hand on his backside. "You fought well today against the beast! Good job!" He said, once again cheerily and with a hearty laugh to accompany it. Nothing ever brought down this man's happiness outside the ring.

The contestant section of the stands was a small, walled box booth that was set into the arena wall about ten feet from the ground. The public stands were above and on both sides of the box, and the only way out was through a set of stairs on the back wall, which led into the armory bay. The armory bay was the one in which contestants collected their Coliseum provided weapons before stepping onto the sand. Orun was in the box, wrapping linen around his scratch. He had already removed his chest plate and his silk cape, which were sitting nearby. When Garvus slapped his bottom, Orun rolled his eyes but answered mildly. "Thank you very much, Garvus. It's good to be appreciated by another athlete. Maybe you'll lend me your shield in another fight later today. We'll see what Master Auldus has in mind when he returns."

Angelo was done waiting so he started to charge his opponent getting in close so he use one of his swords to block an attack and the other said to his his chest for a counterstrike Angelo wanted this to end so he could leave

Smiling Nero moved into a battle stance. He watched as the artist fighter came at him, and deftly deflected the first strike. But he made it seem faulty, and he let the tip of the blade scrape the only part of him uncovered by the armor of his father, and a single drop of blood stained the sand. Smileing he used his free hand, a luxury the other didn't have, to through sand into the air as he ran to try and get behind the opponent.

Angelo saw him pick up the sand and threw it at him that meant he was trying to use it as a diversion to flank him Angelo quickly rolled in a different direction to avoid getting sand in his eyes and meet his opponent ready to take his attack

Grinning Alexander took his blade in one hand and glared at his opponent. Figured he would be pitched against one of the few fighters that came from that stock. Well, at least the fight wouldn't be once sided. His grin began to get maniacal and he moved back into his battle stance. Then he saw a single iron coin fall in front of him, ah it was a message to his master. He decided to use the direct approach and charged at the son of the muses. "Well, a real battle the will be. Let us give the spectators something to watch brother of poets, let's fight till the final gong tolls." He yelled as he charged.

I'm not a poet in a blacksmith!" Angelo called to him as he met his charge with his own but unlike his opponent Angelo had better flexibility so when Angelo got close enough he dashed to his opponents free side (the one with no weapon) then proceeded to plunge both his blades into his opponents back

Alexander cried out, this was the first real wound he had ever gotten in the ring. Thankfully he had enough speed to get his own blade to cut his opponent before he was able to do much real damage with his heavy and clunky swords. With his light blade he was able to cut enough small wounds in the other for him to blanch back. Then he tried to slam upwards and knock the opponent back as the heavy blades fell out of the deep but admittedly low damaging cuts in Alexander's back. Looking up he tried to catch the eye of his sponsor, or at least the leader of the Coliseum, to figure out his next move.

Angelo groaned as he got slashed at his side. Angelo growled when he had gotten paged back but he kept a firm grip on his weapons not letting his guard down. Angelo wasn't going to die here he was going home. Angelo charged him again this time jumping into the air and pointing his swords straight down to him and with the speed he used he knew that even if his opponent guarded himself he would be left open for a follow up attack....

Distracted by his looking into the stands Alexander is caught off guard by his opponent, he is only just able to jump out of the way... Reviving another cut. Slowly the humanity drained out of his face, and he moved into a seemingly impossibly frightening battle stance. He moves in a whirlwind of cuts, and slowly he moved his opponent to the ground. He was about to make the killing blow, after sustaining a large amount of injuries, but a bronze coin landed in front of him and he walked away. His sponsor didn't want this man to die just yet, so he turned not noticing whether the opponent would strike him or not.

Angelo groaned not knowing this man had this kind of ferocity or some sort of anger in him and he was ready to die then and their but then he just left when a coin hit the arena Angelo decided to think he was told not to kill Angelo today. Angelo sighed and when he left Angelo said if you ever need a real weapon ask for Angelo to make it" Angelo said showing his respect his fighting despite their circumstances in the arena so Angelo left to his entrance without engaging him again...

Alexander walked strait into the armoury and waited for his sponcer. Before long the old man, along with his adolescent companion, was was standing before him. "Well," The combatant said, caring for his blade. "You wanted me to spare that man's life? Why?" "Money of course, I plan on doing a bit of investing in him. He was able to keep up with you, which only proves they're takeing you seriously." The old man said, tossing a small gold coin to Alexander. "Your first cut, this is your first real fight after all. Win four more and I'll give you freedom, as long as you agree to stay with the arena." "You know fighting is my life, in this time of piece this will be the only work I can get. At least beyond a grunt soldier or some low paid thug. For someone of my skills, their are few lines of work that are favorable." Alexander said, sheathing his swords and finally really looking up at the man that still owned him. "My blade is the finest here, and I have no doubt about my skills, as a man with the black ironthorn blood that runs through my vains, that I will stay here and fight for a year in the least." "I'm sure I can trust you, your word has always been good. And as a fighter, you protected me from several attempts at my life when you were no more then this boy's age." The old sponsor said, tussleing his slave's hair who looked indignant but tolerated it. "I know I don't have to worry about your skills, but know that the more times you loose the longer it takes for you to earn your freedom." Alexander nodded, and began to tend to his wounds as the old man walked away. After he finished up, it didn't take much for people of his blood, he walked over to speak with his fellow combatants. He looked around to try and find someone to talk to, and some food to eat. The bronze coin could pay for the petty foods combatants could buy bellow, so he began to move tword the stand that sold food to free agents. He hoped that he'd meet someone, he ant crazy after fights if he didn't speak with someone. Ironthorn blood came with a few odd quarks, like over active adrenaline.

"Haha! True fighting, huh?" Garvus commented, slamming his fist onto the wooden barrier. Garvus happily watched the spectacle before him and saw a pleasing fight occur. In the end, Alexander seemed to have won the fight as Angelo walked away, seemingly surrendering. When Alex came to the spectator stand, specifically the food stand, Garvus decided to congratulate him. He walked up behind and waited for him to run around. "Well fought lad!" He said with open arms and a chuckle. "You also didn't kill him, most of the fighters here would have impaled him with a spear, no?" He said, "So, tell me, what is next I wonder? It's good to watch and fight in the coliseum, yes?"

"Fighting is my life, as it is to all but the craftsmen of weapons in my ancestral homeland of ironthorn. I carry the blade of my fathers, and I wear the holy regalia of my people. This will be my home long after I earn my freedom, so yes I feel the same way as you about this place." Alexander said, tossing the coin onto the counter and receiving his bread. "I'll kill When bidden, but when my sponcer has me stop I will. At least here I can truly vennerate the ironthorn blood that runs through my veins and my sword, I can be a warrior like one of my people aught to be."

A voice from the Master's box, a tower that stood on one side of the arena and reached halfway up the stands, echoed throughout the Coliseum. "Well it's a shame I missed most of _that_ fight! But we have great shows for you today! A special surprise that I've gone to some trouble to procure! While we set up, how about we have a little show of skill!" Down in the arena two men stepped out of the armory bay. One was a bearded Anaxan man. He carried a long bow, and wore nothing but a pair of bracers and a leather skirt. He was raising his hands to the crowd, shouting joyously to them. The other man was darker skinned, and obscured in strange armor and a heavily ornamental helmet. He also carried a bow, though his was strange and curved, and he had a scimitar at his side as well. He stood near the armory bay and waited for the Anaxan man to reach the other side of the arena. The Anaxan man turned and knocked an arrow from a side quiver, meanwhile the other man took two arrows into his right hand, and held his finger on the bow, neither arrow knocked. When the Anaxan man let his arrow fly, the other man flicked one of his arrows up to the bow. His arrow intercepted the first one, and was immediately followed by the second, which flew through the air and landed with a thump in the Anaxan man's right shoulder. The man screamed and fell to his knees. The strange man took three more arrows from his quiver and was charging full sprint to the Anaxan, who was trying desperately to knock an arrow with his injured arm. The stranger was about to fire when the Master's voice filled the arena again. "Hold!" he said, a laugh barely discernible through his voice. "Amicus is injured, there's no need to kill him. Ladies and gentlemen, this stranger is called Ogedai, he comes from the east!" There was a great outbreak of murmuring. This was a man from one of the lands that the Anaxan legion was campaigning against. "He has come to show us his strength and skill in battle. And I rather think he's done so now!" Two men with a stretcher came form the armory bay to collect Amicus, who refused assistance and instead stood and staggered back to the gate. Ogedai, meanwhile, had already come back and was making his way up the stairs to the contestant stands. Orun looked at the stranger, nearly speechless. "I.. Wow! incredible! What was your trick, how do you knock your arrows so fast?" The man barely looked at Orun, and deflected the question. "It's a simple skill. You should know it just from watching. Children where I come from can do that." Orun's face darkened, but he said nothing of the man's rudeness. Ogedai stood away from the other contestants. He took his helmet off, revealing long, braided black hair. He watched the rest of the proceedings with a look of detached boredom. The Master's voice was echoing again. "Well, if you want a treat, I'd like to invite Orun back to the arena! I have a beast I think even _you_ would find challenging. You may even want a partner!" Orun turned away from the rude Easterner and looked at Garvus. "Well, maybe now is a good time for us to fight together. Lend me your shield? I'm anxious to see what Auldus has procured for us."