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Falreth stood stripped to his waist. Bandages stained with blood were wrapped tightly around his wrists and fists. Sweat glistened on his body as he now faced his next challenger. Across from him in the pit stood a dark skinned man a fraction taller than himself but leaner.
When he had arrived at Erengrad he had little funds and quickly discovered by staying in the lowest rent areas, that organized underground fist fights were a great way for a man down on his luck to make a wager or two, OR should the mood take him try his hand. This sounded like fantastic news to him and eventualy got into contact with the organizers. He found it simple. He walked into a tavern and began pummling everyone that got within reach of his hands. Word soon spread that there was a new contender in cheap side out to make a few coins.
So now he stood across from his opponent. The Pit, circular in shape, was surrounded by high walls. Two doors set opposite each other allowed entry for the fighters and the crowd of gamblers and gawkers sat in an amphitheater above. With wenches passing out drinks to those as could pay.
A bell rang and the dark warrior advanced upon him quickly. He was quicker than Falreth and dodged his blows easily and effortlessly and he could feel his anger beginning to build as he was being made to look a fool.
Each time he got close his dark opponent would leap back and lash out with powerful kicks to his head, body and knees. This last kick to the head rocked his head to the side and he could feel the spread of hot liquid begin to worm it's way down his face. He wiped but blood, his blood, continued to run down his forehead and into his eyes. His vision a red blur. More blows connected and now his vision was near totally red with his blood. With a roar he charged forward. Caught a foot that was aimed for his head and with all his might stamped down upon the supporting knee. The leg folded like kindling, snapped for a fire and not finished he grabbed the fighter around the waist. Lifting him up he ran at the pits wall and slammed him face first. A sickening crunch could be heard even over the roar of the crowd and again and again he continued to smash the limp head into the wall. He had not even noticed the crowd go silent as over and over he ground flesh into the wooden panels now awash with spilled blood. Falreth found himself laughing.
Finally he let the now unrecognisable limp form drop to the floor and turned to the crowd. A moment of stunned silence then uproar. Copper, silver and gold was thrown into the arena and he stood hands in the air.
After he had left the pit and cleaned himself up he was approached by a ratty looking fellow in gaudy attire.
"There he is, there he is, the man of the hour. What can I say but you killed 'em out there. Nileus Everclass at your service. Now I know what your about to say 'what do I want?' well it's not about what I want. What I want is irrelevant. Your are by far the man of the match and it's all about what you want and what I can do for you."
Spoiler
