THE BULL RING

Another twenty minutes of walking through the formidable warren and I felt well and truly lost. It could be nothing else short of a city within the mountain as we passed other prisoners shuffling along with their Dwarven guards, all dressed in slightly different colours. My identify skill managed to glean some information of those passing nearby in the passages and I noticed some of the prisoners in those processions were Scalar, but there were other races too, from green-skinned, sharp-toothed Goblins, to similarly featured Hob-goblins, who had an apricot tinge to their skin and a more robust build in their appearance. Some of them eyed us speculatively, but generally they kept their heads down and their movements in compliance with the guard's directions.

I believed this entire place was not necessarily part of Artoo’s estate so much as part of a conglomerate of estates, all linked by the multitude of tunnels. I was very grateful for the internal map I had been given by Prince Horatio, as it slowly mapped out every step I took. If ever I wanted to get out of here, I, at least, had a way to keep track of where I had been and could go.

Finally coming to an end, we passed a large set of hinged wooden doors that crashed open to reveal an enormous ovoid space. Above was the sky at last.

Walking out past those doors and across the threshold brought us to the edge of a huge arena. I looked up at the surrounding empty seating and was reminded of the colosseum in Rome. High walls, over ten meters tall, extended around the circumference of the arena floor, with arched door access similar to what we had just passed through interspersed evenly around the base.

Above the arena wall, seating curved all the way back and around. The front row was level with the wall surrounding the arena and the further back seating was more elevated like a typical stadium setup, affording those sitting at the back, the highest viewpoint.

Beyond those last seats the stadium ended abruptly against the crater walls. We were in the pit of the friggin’ volcano! The sight was both magnificent and terrifying. The forces and workmanship needed to chisel the very rock back to create this wondrous place were astonishing enough to boggle the mind.

Master the Arminour was making his way towards us from the other side of the arena, wading through what appeared to be a shallow moat that surrounded the center area of the arena which, after a short rocky stretch had a hole in its middle and then another smaller island extended up in the middle of that pit as well.

Sound seemed to echo within the arena, accentuated by the sulphur-drenched wind disturbing the sand we found ourselves standing on. Strange echoes of water splashed in the distance. The sound bounced around and then whooshed up to exit the mountain through the top chimney flume.

A very eerie place. A sense of menace reached out for me, clasping my heart in its talons. The images of all those who fought and died here was very real in my mind and it sent a brief shiver of revulsion running down my spine.

In the distance, beyond Master’s trundling form, other recruits were training in the shallow depths of that moat. Splashing away as they lunged for each other. Wooden spears cracking against metallic shields.

I looked at Master’s red skin glistened in the sunlight along with the sparkle of his glamorous armor. He looked formidable, as did the battle-axe sheathed across his back. While we waited for him, I took the chance to look around more carefully, allowing my internal map to update itself.

The arena seating was divided into six sections all told, with each section denoting a specific color and sigil above their main door. Directly above the doors, audaciously adorned box seating resided. I assumed that each of the six segments of the ovoid floor allowed the different Gnome houses and their supporters to watch from their respective seating above.

These distinct divides were where I imagined each house Lord was fawned on and pampered while the regular seating stretched between to either side until it reached the next segment of the pie.

The regular seating didn’t seem to have any awning or flag poles and was probably for the poorer classes or less popular denizens who came to watch events play out within the arena.

Tracking my view back to within the arena itself, I noticed it was divided roughly into four zones, each with a distinct terrain type. Like concentric circles within a target, the bullseye was the gaping chasm, with its small island in the very center. This central crater was possibly the most terrifying of the terrain types lying before me.

The crevasse spawned the sulphureous fumes that wafted around the arena. The glow from within its depths gave the impression that exposed larva bubbled somewhere far below. It would also account for the various other noxious fumes that seemed to claw at my throat every time I took a breath. There were pillars there too, extending up from within the crevasse, they ended roughly at ground level. I could not be sure, but it appeared as if you could hop, skip and jump your way to that central island.

The island itself seemed barren and rocky, devoid of plant-life. The noxious clouds drifting up from below seemed to cling to it like gum on a shoe. Expanding and contracting in mesmerising patterns as the heat swirled past, obscuring it for the most part. I turned my gaze from it with a force of will and took in the outer ring, which was where we now found ourselves.

Where we stood was sandy. Like beach sand. Not too deep, maybe a foot or so judging by the scuffed up areas that showed the naked rock floor below.

The other two sections were each vastly different, ranging from a shallow lake of water, or moat dividing the sandy floor on the outer circumference from the inner section. Master was wading through that moat.

Beyond the moat, the inner zone was not that easy to discern from our position, but after the ring of water the terrain looked like it was interspersed with rock formations sticking out at irregular spaced intervals. Clearly an obstacle course of some kind, the rocks weathered and splayed like cauliflower. Not large, maybe as tall as a man. Each edge jagged and sharp and as inhospitable as the landscape of Venus. I had a flash of insight imagining Master standing tall and proud on one of those rocks, his hooves the perfect appendages for dominating in such terrain.

This obstacle course terrain led right up to the last biome or deathtrap I had looked at first. The chasm that was in the center of the metaphorical target. I flinched involuntarily, realising this was the playground I would be enjoying as a gladiator. A sandpit with nowhere to hide and where death lurked between every heartbeat.

I only had one thought though, and it was no comfort to think that every being who had ever crossed the threshold to find themselves standing here, had had similar thoughts.

“I want to go home” that thought said, and it almost made me buckle at the knees. It was sobering and completely incongruous to the huge smile on Master’s face. He was watching the six of us, all our faces etched with a sickly rictus of awareness as we took in our prospects in these terrifying surroundings.

“Welcome!” he boomed, and the crack of his voice echoed sharply, making us flinch and turn to him, ramrod straight.

Over the next few hours, I was once again thrust headfirst into bootcamp. I was reminded of David Goggin’s and his insane attempts to get into the SEALS. The only man alive to do Hell Week three times in a year. His determination and unrelenting drive made him become what he had always known he was. A Navy SEAL.

My current situation was a little bit different though. Here I was, just trying to survive. Not to become anything specifically, and yet, in a short span of months I had already been through ASS Branch training, Orc training and now… Gladiator slave training?

Unfortunately being the only Human specimen on the entire planet made me stand out just a little. How the hell was I going to get out of this? It also gave me new appreciation for what Sebastina had been through to survive. If she could do it, then I could do it. Not because she was a girl. Nor was it because she had the Elven longevity, grace or magic. Simply put, if someone could do it, then it meant someone else could do it. There was no way I was giving in to despair. I turned my focus back to Master’s training.

Master ran us through spear drill after spear drill, and I found I had to quickly unlearn my martial arts tendencies, which usually amounted to one-on-one fights, and flamboyant swings combined with thrusts, flicks and jabs, although some of the practical applications of the long staff forms from Bojutsu and Aikido did hold sway.

While being taught to deflect, block and parry direct attacks was all well and good, and I had plenty of experience doing that, it didn’t really help when fighting in formations with large four-armed Scalar besides me. Any deflection and swing of the spear brought one of them into danger of being hurt by me instead, so my initial attempts at defending myself left me feeling constantly at odds with the group. They seemed to instinctively know what each other were going to do, and thus could easily cover the flanks, press the advantage or simply cover our six instinctively as we moved through basic attack and defensive steps and techniques. It was infuriating how difficult it was to keep up with their progress.

The tactical scenarios were legion, and each formation had, not only a name, but an entire history lesson on where each had been used successfully, along with a few examples of where they had failed miserably. The strange thing was that, not once did Master mention which beasts we would be facing. Only calling them ‘terrible enemies’ or some similar generality.

I thought about it at the time and came to the conclusion that it was probably the right way to think on it. We, as a unit, needed to function as a well oiled machine. Grinding down whatever came upon our formation. If we got too caught up in what an enemy was capable of, we forgot the core tenant of our cohort, and that was: Keep your partners safe and they will keep you safe.

Add in the endless PT over that soft beach-sand and I was once again taken back to those hectic days during Hell Week. The only thing missing was the ocean, although the moat made a good substitute. The water being brackish, uncomfortably warm, and definitely undrinkable. Every time I thought of the ocean as the missing link during my torturous runs, my eyes were pulled, not to the large body of shallow water that Master had waded through earlier. Instead they were drawn to that gaping chasm of sulphureous vapours and curious pillars of spurious rock. It was a terrifying gaping maw and yet I knew that somehow it would play a role in my future. My life had never been easy and things were never simple, so I knew it was just a matter of time before I would get to be a lot closer to it. There was only one thing I knew to do though, and that was ‘Suck it up soldier!’. After all, the only easy day was yesterday.

“Petros Human!” Master’s bellow caused me to flinch. I was in a phalanx formation with two Scalar on my left, and the other three poised close behind ready to break through between us to allow the front rank to retreat.

The drill was to brace, disengage, and move around and behind the back line, revealing a new line of fresh spears. With only two lines, and only six of us, you would think it should be fairly simple.

Somehow the Scalar were able to synchronise effortlessly, their four arms each doing something different. Two for manipulating the spear, and the other two for grasping wrists and swinging themselves into the new positions with precision, using each other as the fulcrum. When they groped for me, I was jostled and often left behind fumbling my spear. Their grasping hands trying to grasp my armor and wrenching me this way and that. It just wasn’t working. My lack of an extra pair of arms completely upsetting the rhythm. A bit like a zipper running smooth, until a piece of skin is caught between the zip teeth. Everything comes to a complete and awkward stop, not to mention how painful it is.

My frustrations were building with each instance and the Scalar, who had made fast friends with each other, constantly bumped, tripped or jostled me out of position. Every time I was out of position. Master would bellow and I would have to run to “improve my stamina”.

I wasn’t exactly ungrateful to be out of the resentful group dynamics during those runs, but I wanted more than anything to be effective. I wanted to be useful, I wanted to fit in. This constant badgering felt demeaning and insulting. I would never have enough arms, why was Master trying to force me to learn this? Surely we needed shields, not just spears. I had no real answers, but I tried to build reporè with my Scalar stablemates. At least three of them seemed amenable to me.

Rashid was identified as a Scalar Hunter, and at Level 24 he was considerably higher up the abilities skill tree than me. What it meant to me in literal terms was that we shared a kindred spirit as we suffered together to learn something completely new. I also noticed that level seemed to equate to age. What that meant was an average Scalar could advance a level every year or so as they progressed through life. Since I was at level 1, it made me feel even more inadequate. The main thing I gleaned from identifying their Class was that they too were low in level on the combat front, at least those who didn’t have a combat class originally. But they gained proficiency based on how advanced they were in physical attributes. I guessed that there would be a limit on their abilities though, simply because they were not predisposed to being fighters or gladiators, but there was enough crossover that they had innate advantages. For example Luxman was a butcher and so had blade handling skills which boosted the pole-arms skill, because they were both hand-held tools which could be applied in similar ways. Similarly Rashid was a hunter so he was dexterous and lithe which helped him with our formations.

Although at first Rashid really struggled to grasp the formation tactics that Master was trying to drill into us. So upon occasion, myself, Rashid, Adilla the young Ranger who seemed to be the most enthusiastic of the bunch as well as Luxman the Butcher spent a lot of time running. Both Anil the Farmer and Selvin the fighter just had the knack for the drills and seemed the most comfortable doing what we were taught, it seemed like something they may have practiced before.

If it wasn’t for their aptitude perhaps the group attitude would have been different. I felt Anil always seemed to be getting in my way and at first I thought it was just his clumsy way, but when I found him deliberately pulling me off balance or out of alignment, I began to get the suspicion that he had a problem with me. It was only later when Rashid told me that Anil’s brother was the one who I had knocked out cold when we first arrived at the slave market, that I understood the reason behind the animosity.

It was also a revelation that Selvin was his cousin and so it was only natural that they should form a bond and stick together. Rashid's animosity stemmed from the notion that his brother would be with him now, if I had not beaten him to a pulp. He was probably right, but it changed nothing and his antics were starting to annoy me

“Petros, what is wrong with you? Why can’t you do the basic steps?” Anil hissed from the back line. I was in the front of the formation again, this time in the middle front. His presence behind me with a sharp spear was a little disconcerting to say the least. If he wanted me to have an accident, it would not be hard to slip the sharp hardened tip right up between my shoulder blades.

Rashid, who was next to him, came to my rescue. “What is wrong with you Anil?

“He is not one of us.” Anil hissed in reply.

“Yes, he is different. It doesn’t change that we need to work together. Work together and we can help him improve. Stop nagging him!”

“How can you take his side? He is not one of us!” Anil’s indignant attitude was getting to everyone, and it was at that moment that Master bellowed the next formation. Anil was slow to adjust and our abrupt change of direction and realignment completely caught him off guard. I was quite relieved to see Master’s ire fall on someone else for a change, but I also knew it would not help this situation. Something had to be done.

“Do you all feel the same way as he does? I asked as we waited for Anil to do the circuit run around the water’s edge and back.

Luxman was quick to interrupt.” I saw how you knocked Anil’s brother out. You were defending one of us. It is said you have the mark of Avihs. That even though you are different, you have been chosen. Is it true?”

Sensing a way to smooth things out, I decided to come clean. If we didn’t work together, if we didn’t change our attitude to one another, we would soon become the beast fodder everyone was threatening us with. A machine doesn’t work if one of the cogs fail. I would not bring this team down.

“Yes, Avihs and I have an understanding. He marked me to allow me to work His will in the world. I would be lying if I said I knew what ‘His will’ is, but so far He has guided me here.”

There were surprised gasps, but I saw just a hint of awe in Rashid's face. Almost reverence.

“You have spoken with Avihs?” Selvin’s disbelieving tone was almost impossible to ignore. I looked up at him. My kind face slipped and I put the thousand yard stare out for all to see.

“Do not trifle with me Selvin. I may seem unskilled playing with spears, but you have seen what happens when I get mad.”

Despite his height advantage. They all had a height advantage. He took a step back, grasping his spear more tightly.

Great, I was doing splendidly. Definitely getting into everyone's good graces. Now I had to worry about two spears in my back.

Rashid stepped between us. “Anil is almost back. Get into formation. Let’s try again.”

I was surprised to note that Master was observing us, but had refused to get involved. Perhaps he wanted to see how we could gel together on our own. I worked extra hard at the formations, and Anil kept out of my way after Selvin gave him a few sharp words.

Things seemed to be getting better for all of us. Then Master called a halt to our activities and summoned the Dwarven guards to escort us back to our cells. His parting bellow, “Tomorrow better show improvements.” gave our group a thoughtful, almost introspective vibe.

As I turned to leave, Master called out again and I was summoned to him. The others came to a halt as I ran double time to stand before his imposing presence.

I was just starting to wonder if I would need a raincoat, when he reached out and gave my head an almost paternal pat. Like I was some kind of favorite pet. It rankled me as nothing else could and I almost lost my senses in fury. Before the rage could take root however, his words filtered in.

“Do not be offended Human Petros Tongue Taker, I was simply feeling if you had horns. Our spirits are not much different, You are fierce, you are determined, and you did well today, despite your impediment. Do not be fooled into thinking I didn’t know you only had two arms. I wanted to see if you could work with their team dynamics. I wanted to test your metal. What I have seen has pleased me. It is not the first time you have worked with men. It is very clear to me that you are a soldier, a leader of your kind. Those five Scalar needed to see it too. Today I think you earned their respect. Perhaps tomorrow you will earn their loyalty. Keep learning, keep humble, but most of all, keep fighting.”

As the red glaze of anger withered away to the dark corners of my mind, I looked at Master and for the first time actually saw him. I saw him not as a monster, nor aberration, but instead I began to see the man. The persona behind all his bluster and unflinching vitriol.

Okay, it was hard looking at someone who looked like a demon with any sense of respect, but somehow, at that moment, we connected and I saw him as someone on my side. Someone who wanted to get the best out of me. It was gratifying and it also didn’t escape my notice that he had been watching me and testing me in ways beyond the physical. He had been measuring me as a man. Seeing if I was someone you want to have at your back in a fight. The moment passed and I nodded. He snorted and the ring in his nose swung ponderously.

Dismissed, I returned to the group and we ambled along into the corridors of the mountain to drop off our training weapons and make our way back to our cells.

When I eventually made it to my prison, my eyes wanted to close almost immediately. All thoughts of escape, of rescue, and even of hopeless despair were all distant and out of grasp of my tired and aching body. All I had was the gnawing hunger to eat the gruel left for me and slake my burning thirst, then rest blissfully on my comfortable corner of hard rock floor. Unfortunately for me, BURT decided sleep was for pussies and I wasn’t furry or cute enough to be one.

“Petros, you have made remarkable progress today. Do you realize how many skills have improved?”

“uuhgg” was the best I could scrape up as a reply. His comment did draw me to the notifications that was blinking in my HUD though.

You have levelled up your skills.

Unarmed Combat Level 2

Pole-arms Level 1

Battle formations Level 1

You have levelled up your class

Level 2 Chosen Novice

Abilities unlocked:

Improved healing. 2% faster self-healing benefits for trauma and toxins.

Improved agility. 2% faster in responses and reactions

improved strength. 2% stronger in strength related endeavours.

Advanced Identify level 2. You can now identify items as well as creatures.

Detect up to level 105 of Sentient beings at a distance of 7m. (2% chance to see through protective charms/spells.)

Charisma Level 1. You have a glib tongue, but at times you know when to hold it still.

It was nice to see some progress, except that I was starting as a complete noob on this world’s system. Galling, and yet on some level it was like a cloth had wiped me clean of dirt. I could develop unbound to the creeping taint of nanobot takeover. These humbling thoughts brought me more peace than I expected and soon I drifted into a deep slumber where the dreams were waiting.