Pitmaster
Cadeus Malloy stifled a yawn as he looked away from the tiny, green-skinned being and cast his gaze around the Pit's outer chamber. Legends held it was once a place of great honor, where warriors and champions alike met to try their luck against the most ferocious beasts in the kingdom. Only a few were worthy of entry, and only the best emerged unscathed. Generations of fair maidens wept at the loss of their favorite champions, or claimed to have secretly seduced them before their final battle.
The hawking cry of a Keldoran merchant drew his attention and he frowned; not just for the bug-eyed weapon seller, but for the young woman he was serving. Thin and well-muscled, she was dressed like a rogue, with overlapping leather chest armor, tight breeches and daggers at her hips. She was inspecting a blade the Keldoran had passed her, and even from a distance, Cadeus could tell the steel was inferior. The woman obviously felt the same way, and spit on the ground in front of the merchant before handing the dagger back. It was a risky move – Keldorans were not known for their even tempers, and the reddish tinge on the merchant's face showed that his anger was rising. Before he had a chance to move, however, the woman had one of her own daggers out and at the merchant's throat. He dropped his arms and backed away quickly.
Cadeus swore as the woman moved to the next stall, sheathing her dagger. The Pit was a great jest now, a place of beggars, swindlers, and women who thought they could stand beside the men who had forged the kingdom. Two years ago, when he had bested the Throl'goth of the Highlands, there had been only one armor merchant, and he at least had been a Gammorian, and one whose wares were known beyond borders. Though Cadeus could not refuse an invitation to fight the kingdom's latest acquisition – Polrai the Soul-Eater – he wished he could simply be done with it, and not have to endure the foolishness and inflated pomp that went along with entry to the Pit.
“Get on with it!” He bellowed at the Pitmaster, who broke off mid-sentence to stare at him.
“Are ye certain, Lord...” The little man waited for a name, but Cadeus shook his head.
“No names, little one. Open the damn gate!”
With a sigh, the Pitmaster moved forward, wrapping small hands around a dark gray lever. A grunt of effort brought it down, and the steel portcullis in front of Cadeus screeched open. He charged through, pulling sword from scabbard and unstrapping his steel defender. What little he knew of the Soul-Eater made shadow magic its weapon of choice, and Cadeus had made sure the enchanter in his employ placed a ward of protection on his shield before he left the estate.
There was a low hiss as he entered the Pit proper, and he saw the nebulous form of Polrai take up position on the opposite side of the broad, circular space. It opened one of its ten mouths to speak, but Cadeus didn't wait for words to flow and charged in headlong, screaming a battle cry. Purple mist swirled around the thing's body, making it difficult to see what form it actually held, but Cadeus wasn't worried about finding a shadowy heart or slicing into its blackened brain. Of the twelve swords his father had passed down, nine possessed powers of the elders; the one in his hand was said to have been carried by Halmath himself, the holiest warrior in the kingdom's history.
Brightly-glowing blade met insubstantial flesh, and Polrai screamed, his shadow covering ripped away. Underneath was a thin gray being with arms too long for its frame and a face too oval to be human. A spin, a slash and its head went rolling across the Pit floor.
Above him, a weak cheer went up.
Stalking to the exit portal, Cadeus rammed his sword home and strapped his shield. Victory was not truly victory when it came easily.
As the exit gate closed behind him, he could see the Soul-Eater's body begin to re-form – within an hour, it would be ready for the next challenger. That simply added insult to easy injury – magic preserved the beast, no matter how many warriors killed it, reducing the trifling amount of honor he had received from itd death even further. What had become of the kingdom?
He found the rogue woman talking to the Pitmaster, and brushed by her, taking the green beast by the throat.
“Hey!” She cried, but he glared over his shoulder at her.
“Shut up!”
Turning his attention back to the Pitmaster, Cadeus drew his sword. “I'm tired of this game, Pitmaster – tired of the sham and mockery this place has become. You must have some knowledge of how this came to be, and you must know something that can be done to fix it!” He tightened his grip, the creature at the end of his arm flailing wildly.
“Watch out!” It was the woman again, leaping forward to draw one of her daggers. It spun from her hand, sinking into the Pitmaster's forehead just above the eyes.
Cadeus spun, dropping the limp body and turning his rage on the fool rogue.
“What have you done, woman?” He bellowed.
“Look!” She screamed, and he turned back to the Pitmaster. In one tiny green hand was a hook-pointed dagger, slick with poison. Cadeus frowned. She had saved his life.
An thunderous explosion from the Pit pulled his attention from the dead man, and he watched as a great, rending tear appeared in the ceiling. Inhuman voices wailed, a chorus that echoed only one refrain.
“Free!”
What had the woman done?
- D
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