Step forward sons and daughters who shall be entering the trials. The shove of my hatchfather forces me forward with the rest of the fellow dwarves. The excitement I felt just moments ago was replaced with an uneasiness of being in front of such a large crowd. Standing in front on stage was the Chief of our city, draped in a sea blue robe with red gems trimmed along the sleeves and torso that seemed to shimmer against the sunlight. In his hand, a single bronze bowl filled to the brim with red paint. With so many eyes on us, my steps became unsteady as I walked towards the stage making the wooden steps creak with each step.

Hundreds of dwarves from all over the city came to watch as we took our first steps towards adulthood. Glancing at the other dwarves on stage their eyes burned with a ferocity we dwarves were raised to have, perhaps it was because we would finally get the opportunity to earn our first Warhammer. Stilling my eyes forward the Chief began his slow stride across the stage, passing each of us painting the mark of Curuz across our foreheads. With just under one hundred dwarves entering the trials, it took quite awhile for the Chief to mark all of us. The red sticky paint had already dried on my head by the time he finished.

"Son's and daughters of Curuz you have accepted the task and honor of entering the pit of Usx. With this mark of Curuz, you are now a humble servant of Emperor Demeous and he shall guide you through the many dangers you will face. You now have my blessing to enter the pit, may the All-Father protect you always." The crowd roared as he completed his speech, each of us bowing before Chief Drugel, leader of our beautiful city. Turning around I see my father smug as he stands in the crowd his arms folded causing his muscles to ripple through his plain white tunic, unlike the usual blacksmithing apron he wore. His black boots were laced tight and although old still shined from daily maintained and polishing. he nodded towards me with a look of pride and a rare but warm smile peeked out of his gruff thick black beard.

The moment your capable of taking your first steps as a dwarf you are trained to survive the pit of Usx. It's the task one must complete before entering adulthood and receiving your first and only Warhammer from the underground Metropolis of Gargargun, the city of the Emperor. Once a year on your sixteenth year of life those brave enough accept the task to enter Usx, also known as The Pit and must find their way back to the village within the next 2 years. Of course, the pit is a day's travel down towards the center of the Earth. Those that have returned from the Pit and obtained their Gargargun Warhammer have their names forever etched in history. Not from just surviving the Pit but for the countless legends left behind after returning to the surface. Many of us young dwarves look up to the survivors of the Pit as their name spreads across the lands as being gallant, wise, and having undeniable strength.

"Galendal my boy! Congratulations on entering the trial! Don't forget everything I taught you, ya hear."

Walking back towards my hatchfather he greets me his voice deep and gruff as he slaps my back, his hand heavy upon my shoulder. Responding with a slight grin he smacks me on the back once more before joining the other fathers to brag about their children now becoming an adult. For not all dwarves have the guts to accept the trials on their 16th year of life, but become simple blacksmiths pounding away at mediocre stone and metal. Never having the honor of wielding their very own Warhammer forged by the Royal Dwarves of Gargargun. A weapon forged by the Royal Dwarves from the hardest ore found on the continent, it was rare for any dwarf to make it back alive let alone in 2 years. Yet it didn't stop us from trying to get our hands on the priceless treasure.

"Is that all your taking with you in the Pit Gale?"

Turning around I'm questioned by my hatchmate Bolmer as he hobbles towards me away from the stage. Unlike most dwarfs who were short but muscular, his flesh was soft and jiggled with each step he made. Approaching me the glare from his bald head against the sunlight stung my eyes briefly. His clean and custom fitted tunic gave the impression that he was of royal descent, although I knew otherwise.

"My father speaks of hellhounds roaming the tunnels of Usx, it's best to carry light if you want to survive," I mutter shielding my eyes. "Hellhounds?" he retorts his voice full of amusement. " My father says you should bring as much as you can carry! The more you have the less you need."

He carried conviction and assurance in his words like most dwarves did. "Anything I need I'll make from the metal I find, like a true dwarf of Curuz." I spat, his grin growing more annoying by the second.

All hatchfathers mentored their sons in some kind of way, my own father teaching me the lore of the different creatures that are supposedly living in the darkness as well as survival techniques and strategies. Bolmer's father, on the other hand, worked beside the chief as his advisor on foreign trade with other races and cities outside our borders. He held the third highest power among the dwarves in the city and everyone knew it, although we dwarves respect the hardness of one's hands not how sharp one's tongue could be.

Unlike us dwarven commoners who're hatchfathers took diligence in training their sons in daughters in the ways of survival, Bolmer's father simply hired foreign survival experts, and disregarded training him in the slightest. Of course, Bolmer himself took pride in the fact that he received special training from unnamed experts. The trials of the Pit being a dwarven tradition, that outsiders knew little to nothing about I wondered what exactly they taught him.

I carried the only things my father insisted I needed, a hammer and a pot. A hammer to pound all that obstructs my path, be it stone, man, or beast a swift smash and all obstacles will turn to rubble. As well as a pot to cook my meals and to protect my head, for the body won't work without proper fuel or with a caved in skull. Not including the light chainmail, I wore along with my cheap hood. Looking at me I could see the laughter in his eyes as his face slightly shook, "Don't worry Gale if I happen to find your body in the pit I'll be sure to present your father with the trusty pot." Unlike me who carried only a small satchel at the hip as well as a holster for my, hammer Bolmer carried a large sack that swallowed his entire backside, easy prey for whatever beasts lay in wait beneath the Earth. At least that's what I thought.

Our city wasn't large but it carried a durability like no other, the houses built with fine and meticulous detail each one could easily be mistaken for a temple of worship, and being made of the best stone and metal a dwarf could find didn't make it difficult to brag about to merchants and travelers. The streets paved with a cheap but beautiful metal, making it shine in the sunlight no matter how dim, it was a place I took pride in, as did any dwarf from Curuz. The rest of my hatchmates continued in idle chatter as we made our way out of the city towards Usx, bragging about the wealth they would surely achieve after returning to the surface.

I did no such thing, for the stories my father often told of the pit makes one question how anything could survive a single day let alone years in the pit. The endless darkness that spanned miles in all direction, and the creatures that dwelled there. Endless pages of lore and history my father forced me to read flips through my mind the further away from the village we travel, the Colosseum now only a few feet ahead of us.

Arriving at the gates of the Colosseum the Blackguards block our path, their giant Warhammers embedded with colorful gems and the finest of craftsmanship. Their armor crafted by the Forge Maidens themselves from the hardest of obsidian, creating a black shine you couldn't help but grin at. My gullet rumbled seeing such a magnificent piece of handiwork. The Blackguards looked at us with disdain their eyes trailing over our group before spotting the chiefs symbol on all of our foreheads.

The annoyance in their eyes quickly changed to that of admiration and pride as they signaled for the rising of the gates with smirks on their faces. Giving a quick salute they proceeded to let us enter the arena, sending us a small prayer as we passed through the massive gates. The Usx Arena, forged by the Great Dwarf Svengir himself, it being my first time entering it I admired the detail, as did my fellow hatchmates.

The pillars stood tall as they encompass the arena's inner perimeter, each pillar told a story of a great battle within the arena the tale carved within the very stone itself making it feel as though you were entering a fine museum and not an area of bloodshed and carnage. The polished marble floors glistened white as we continued on through the halls many doors lay scattered through the area making me wonder just how many rooms and corridors lay within the labyrinth of an arena.

Although old in age it was well maintained the sleek white floors and carved and polished walls were void of any dust or cracks there were even several pieces of painted artwork that rested on the ceiling, telling a tale of its own of the days when the elements first formed the lands. Walking down the hall the white color of the floors changed to a solid black, but still kept it's shimmering gleam as we made our way towards the pit.

Approaching the opening towards the center of the Arena we could hear the crowd, the dwarves that have come to watch the children enter adulthood shook the stadium with their hammers. My body vibrated from the clatter the crowd made causing my heart to jump briefly before returning to its steady rhythmic beat. Passing through the clearing the crowd erupts with anticipation.

The inner arena had five entrances and as we moved towards the center other dwarves began to emerge from the other entryways, a different city emerging from each gateway proceeding towards the center of the arena to the pit. The Dwarves from Foredwin, Toradain, Bolstone, Moldan and us from Curuz. The only Dwarven City not present at the trials were those from Gargargun the emperor's city, the city is filled with only the most dedicated and noble dwarves there was no need to prove your worth to others.

We approach the crater-like hole which is surrounded by several Forge Maidens, although women they wore the toughest golden plate armor as well as a golden helmet that only revealed their face it seemed to suit their white hair. The Forge Maiden was the only profession that the other dwarves respected for not using a hammer. For their scepters were as powerful as any Gagargun Warhammer that had been forged, and with the power to amplify magic the maiden was an enemy you didn't want to have.

In unison, the five Forge Maidens spoke their voices amplified by unknown sorcery for the entire arena to hear, "step forward and accept the last meal the All-father has presented to you." Sitting beside the Forge Maidens were large brown baskets, doing as we were told each one of us approached a maiden taking a bread roll, perhaps the last meal we would easily obtain. Some dwarves ate it right away swallowing it in one bite, while others saved it for later stuffing it in their packs and beards.

Although I accepted the final gift from the All-Father I was reluctant to eat or save it, I didn't want to carry the smell of food into the pit, the aroma would attract the beasts of the darkness. With disdain, I swallowed the bread, yet the taste was something I savored for it would be a long time before I would consume it again.

The Forge Maidens turn towards the crowd shouting again in unison, " the last meal of the All-Father has been accepted, begin the descending." The crowd responded with cheers shaking the stadium once again, mothers praying for the safe return of their sons, and fathers shouting the last encouraging words our ears would hear. With that our large group circled the Pit, the hole the size of an arena itself.

The darkness seemed to beckon us inside, as if it's long-awaited meal had finally been prepared. The Forge Maidens lit the five goblets that surrounded the pit with dwarven fire, it shined a bright gold glimmering like the sun in the sky. With that my hatchmates and I leaped into the dark and began our falling into the pit, the golden flames disappearing fast above us and the beginning of the trial awaiting us down below.