“A Dark Arena match? That is what you said,” Varick commented as he checked the straps of his leather armor. He then looked down the length of his greatsword. A dozen or more pit gladiators surrounded the top with more blocking the cavern’s entrance, as he jumped into the stone-laid fighting pit to the sandy ground.
“Araminth Goldeneye’s freedom if I win,” Vomarian Fae said as he checked over his suite of finely etched platemail armor. It was a tight fix, which was exactly how he liked it. The head of a massive, elf-eating, white lion, acquired on his great hunt as a youth, donned on his left shoulder with its massive paw resting on his right. He wore his spectacular helm with the lion’s mane coming out of the top.
“Yes, if you win,” Varick echoed as he checked two longswords sheathed to his back and stepped forward with his greatsword.
Vomarian noticed his longswords were at an awkward angle for his arms to reach. Deciding not to jump down, due to the weight of his armor, Vomarian lowered himself into the pit. A copper smell penetrated his nose and the metallic taste hit is tongue. The air below was also a few degrees cooler.
The pit gladiator audience fell silent as they shifted their attention to the two warriors.
Vomarian had a moment to take in the sight of his opponent, the size of a small mountain. He was a foot taller than himself and his shoulders twice as broad. His arms were thicker than Vomarian’s thighs, and his corded leg muscles radiated power with each step. Breathing in deeply and exhaling, he wondered if he just made a huge mistake. He swept his battle axe wide to the side in a salute.
Varick attacked immediately! Swinging his greatsword with untamed savagery.
Vomarian curved snakelike away from the blow at the last instant. The Shagornan elf growled at his lack of decorum.
Shifting continually back and forth, Varick’s muscles rippled as he made a powerful swing with his greatsword.
Vomarian deflected the blow with his battle axe. He was thrown back several paces by the power of the blow. Stumbling into a wall, his head impacted stone. It hurt! Even with his helm, it felt like someone had just hit it with a maul. Angered at the pain, he smashed at his opponent with his battle axe.
Varick ducked under his oncoming attack, seizing the counter strike. He hacked mercilessly at the elf with his greatsword.
Vomarian found himself rather unprepared for the attack. He was struck is the left thigh. The superior armor was near proof against the blow. However, the force caused him to lose his footing and he fell. Kicking out frantically, his foot caught the edge of a buried stone in the sand. He quickly regained his stance.
Snorting at the Shagornan elf, Vomarian realized Varick was a superior fighter. Beating him in a stand up fight would be precariously as best. Araminth’s voice ‘You will not win,’ echoed in his mind. Pushing the defeatist comment aside, he had to change his tactics the next minute.
Bounding forward, Varick brought his greatsword hurtling downward from above his head.
Vomarian didn’t move. Sparks flew as the sharp blades dug into each other. He deflected the blow.
Scoffing, Varick brought his greatsword smashing outward in a vicious attack. Again, the elf didn’t move and parried with is battle axe.
Stepping back contemplating what the elf was doing, Varick rushed forward in a counter strike. Muscles rippling as he made a powerful swing with his greatsword.
Bringing the battle axe up, Vomarian attempted to block the blow. Varick’s strength was incredible. He couldn’t hold it! The pit gladiator smashed through the parry with his greatsword.
Vomarian Fae was struck in the chest. It was a glancing blow only, but the wind blew out hard from his lungs.
“You will not beat me elf,” Varick snarled.
“I’m not trying to beat you,” Vomarian snapped.
“No? You can not hope scum me either.”
Taking advantage as he attempted to reply, Varick pivoted, stepped one way, and then jumped to the other side of the elf.
It was a tactic Vomarian had seen hundreds of times.
Varick striked wielding his greatsword.
Vomarian Fae brought his axe up to deflect the blow. An unstoppable force meeting an unmovable object. Neither would yield. The elf’s axe ran down the sword’s length, it found a nick in the steel. A stress point. Exactly, what he was looking for. He flicked his battle axe and bit hard into the metal.
Varick cursed vehemently as his greatsword was broken by the blow. Throwing down the hilt, he fumbled for one of the longswords strapped to his back.
“I was trying to beat your weapon,” Vomarian Fae retorted.
Varick’s temple crinkled as his brow rose. Realization of vulnerability set in.
The Shagornan elf swept his battle axe in a deadly assault.
Varick dodged, jumping to the side of the attack.
Following up, his battle axe sliced across with tree-felling power.
Varick showed off his superb training as he vaulted over the attack. He attempted to draw his longsword, but was too hotly engaged. Vomarian made an all-out cleaving attack with his battle axe. Varick twisted impossibly away from the blow, amazing the pit gladiator spectators.
The Shagornan elf stayed in close. It prevented Varick from drawing his backup weapons. He could feel and smell his hot breath. However, it also prevented him utilizing the blade effectively with a powerful attack. He bashed with the side of his battle axe.
Varick batted the weapon aside with his bare hand leaving an opening to attack. He exploded into a deadly double, open hand strike. Vomarian was struck in the abdomen. The pit gladiator spectators cringed as the power of the blow stuck home. The armor dented into him. Air blasted from his lungs.
Varick followed up his attack. His fists punched with piston-like horse felling power.
The elf was struck in the face. Teeth slammed into each other. Blood could be felt pumping into his head as it swelled within the helm. It then went numb. The overriding taste of blood filled his mouth.
Varick hammered down in a ferocious forearm smash. Vomarian was struck it his right arm. A thousand painful pin-pricks raced up his arm. It went limp. He was visible staggered and dropped his battle axe.
Screaming in blood-lust, Varick attacked his helpless foe with a pinpoint accurate elbow. Vomarian was struck in the throat. Stars blasted across his vision. His world spun. He legs failed him as she slumped down to the sandy floor. Nausea churned in his stomach. For a moment, the cool air in the pit helped keep its contents from coming up. He then felt Varick press his massive foot across his neck. Air and blood immediately stopped flowing. Raising his left hand, he flailed weakly against his muscular leg.
Two things then crossed Vomarian Fae’s mind as it began to shut down. The first was Varick’s blood vessels pumping in his legs, which stood out like cords of veined iron. The second was the echo of Araminth’s last words to him. ‘You will not win.’