The Adventurers Meet
Jerrie Two-Toes introduces Kale to Byric and Yaran before the first match
and offers them some advice.
The markets around the Executioner's Pit in Freeman's End were busier than Kale Lightweaver had expected. True enough, he had traveled as far north as the Fillian Mountains of Arvandus, and as far west as Oesch-Onarga, the University of Scholars in the Independent State, but never before had he come across such a motley community as the one in Freeman's End.
By all accounts, Freeman's End wasn't much larger than Savoy, the community established across the majestic lake from Oesch-Onarga. Kale had arrived early in the morning, just before the rising of Dirion. All had been quiet and peaceful in what appeared to be a small village with a surprising number of taverns and inns, all seeming to surround the village's largest structure: the Executioner's Pit. From what Kale knew, the coliseum had been built long before most of the other structures in Freeman's End. It was used to hold games of sport for those looking to increase their fame across the realms, as well as the wealth within their purses, for the Executioner's Pit was considered Langington's center of waging and gambling. It had another purpose, though; a purpose that, at times, sent a slight chill up Kale's spine.
Kale's was brought back from his dark lamenting by the slap of a small and stubby hand on his lower back. "Good to see you again, lad!" Kale spun fast, his right hand instinctually reaching for the hilt of his sheathed long sword. He stopped himself short, though, for he knew quite well that the Havanathe before him was anything but a threat. "As quick as ever, eh?" the Havanathe asked, winking up at Kale. Standing only five-foot-seven, Kale seemed to tower over the shorter halfling.
"Jerrie Two-Toes," Kale replied, taking the Havanathe's hand. "It's been quite some time."
"For you, perhaps," Jerrie said. "You're nothing but a pup, while I'm--"
"Older than dirt," Kale said, finishing a sentence he had heard several times in the past. Kale had first met Jerrie Two-Toes in the foothills of the Fillian Mountains a few years back. The Havanathe had been having some problems with a small band of orcs when Kale arrived. With the saving of Jerrie's life, the two had become instant friends, something that Kale would later find out was rather common with Jerrie and the citizens of Western Glashia. Jerrie Two-Toes was more popular than the gods, and he knew everyone.
"Older than the mountains," Jerrie said as he puffed out his chest. "Sounds a bit more dignified than the dirt, if you ask me."
"That it does, my friend. But what brings you to Freeman's End? Last we saw of each other, you were heading back to Watersmeet to start up some tavern or inn."
"And that I did, my boy," Jerrie replied, rubbing his plump belly with his right hand. "And it's done me good, too. You should come down there when you get the chance. I may have some work for you."
Kale laughed, slapping the Havanathe on his back. "I've heard those words before!"
Jerrie shrugged. "Hey, how was I to know those traders were actually Alarentian bandits? Don't see many of them around here, you know."
"This is true, my friend. This is true."
"Come," Jerrie said, taking Kale by the arm and leading him toward the Executioner's Pit. "Let us walk while we talk."
"Fair enough."
This horde of people seems thicker than the weave of a fine blanket, Kale thought to himself as the Havanathe lead him through the crowd. Jerrie had to push away two street urchins begging for a bit of copper and a woman--rather pretty in Kale's eyes--looking to sell the wares she wore, before the two reached the west entrance to the coliseum.
"So, what brings you here?" Jerrie asked in a tone that told Kale the Havananthe already knew the answer.
"To Freeman's End?"
Jerrie tossed Kale a crooked smile. "I wasn't born yesterday, lad."
"Oh, you mean the Executioner's Pit," Kale replied. "Well, I've heard some things about this place. Some good things . . . "
"And some bad, eh?" Jerrie asked.
Kale shrugged slightly to hide the returning chill. "The king has to do away with the criminals of Langington in some fashion."
"Ever fought a man who himself was fighting for his life?" Jerrie asked.
"I've come across a fair number of thugs in my day."
The Havanathe shook his head. "No, I'm talking about a man who's only chance for survival is by winning, and by killing you. He's like a caged beast, ten times over."
"Jerrie, I don't have to compete against the criminals. I know some of the rules, you know."
"That's what they all say," Jerrie replied. "But it always ends the same. Trust me, lad. You'll fight some convicts in there. But it matters not, my boy. You'll get the fame and fortune you're looking for."
Kale smiled. "Who says I'm looking for fame and fortune."
Jerrie looked up at the young Notannes fighter. "They're all looking for fame and fortune. I may be as old as-"
"Dirt."
"The mountains, you little goblin! I may be as old as the mountains, but I do know a thing or two about a thing or two."
"Do tell."
Well," Jerrie started, leading Kale around the coliseum to the south, "For one thing, I know that you shouldn't go in there alone. You should have yourself a partner, mayhap even two."
"I just arrived in Freeman's End, my friend," Kale replied. "I don't know a sole."
"Except for old Jerrie Two-Toes."
"My saving grace."
"Bah!" The two followed the curved outer wall of the Executioner's Pit to a structure built up against the coliseum. "That's where the contestants ready themselves before each match," Jerrie said. "It's also where you can find yourself a couple of men that'll watch your back."
"Are you sure of that?" Kale asked. "I mean, can you vouch for them?"
"Kale, my boy, if there's one thing that you've learned about me, it's that I know everyone," Jerrie said, leading Kale up to the door of the building. "If you don't trust them, you can trust me in that I trust them. You saved my life, Kale. I wouldn't toss you to the wolves."
Kale heard the Havanathe's sincerity and felt guilty for ever questioning his friend. "Fair enough, Two-Toes," Kale said, opening the door. "Lead on."
The inside of the building was all one room, some fifty-feet wide by fifteen-feet deep, with a door opposite the one Kale and Jerrie had entered through. Several cots lined the walls to the left and right, but only a handful of them seemed to be taken. Kale counted nine people inside the large room and, for some reason, figured that number to be rather low. He tapped Jerrie on the shoulder and nudged his head toward the others.
"Not that many today," Jerrie replied with a shrug. "Happens sometimes." Jerrie slammed the door shut, the sound the hardwood crashing against hardwood echoing throughout the room. All heads turned toward the Havanathe, causing Kale to again begin reaching for the hilt of his long sword. But once again he came up short as smiles appeared on everyone's face as they all bellowed in unison, "Jerrie!"
"Howdy, boys!" Jerrie Two-Toes replied with a wave of his hand. He turned to a well-armored, red-headed woman sitting to his left, and bowed. "And to you, Lady Jessica." The red-head winked down at the Havanathe before turning her attention on the bastard sword she held. Jerrie leaned toward Kale. "Jessica Liersthe," he whispered, pointing a stubby finger toward the red-headed woman. "Daughter of the late governor of Vollmer, by all accounts. He and his wife were murdered, her uncle was killed, and she took to the roads of Langington."
"Tough?" Kale asked, watching as Jessica slid a whetstone across the blade of her sword with a delicateness that he could only admire.
"As nails, my boy. But enough about her," Jerrie said as his voice got louder, "for here comes your partners."
At first Kale thought the approaching man on the right was Notannes, like himself. His skin was a yellowish-tan and his eyes, although almost golden in color, were slanted and tapered up on the ends. But by the time he and the other man were standing before Kale and Jerrie, the young Notannes fighter knew that the man on the right was a Zambarian. "Greetings," Kale said to the two men with a nod.
"Kale, I would like you to meet Yarankoto Tashimato," - Jerrie gestured to the man on the right - "and Byric Lugh," Jerrie said, gesturing to the man on the left.
Kale nodded again toward the two men, his eyes lingering on those of Yarankoto for a few extra moments. "Greetings to you both."
"And to you, my cousin," Yarankoto replied, dipping his head quickly so that none but Kale and Jerrie were able to see him wink. "Please call me Yaran."
"Ahh, Yaran here is from a small Notannes hamlet up north . . . in Jordyen . . . I think," Jerrie stumbled with a slight laugh. Kale understood Jerrie's nervousness. Western Glashia and Zambari, the neighboring country to the south, had been at constant war for more years than Jerrie could remember. True enough, it had always been a war more of words and occasional merchant ship skirmishes than anything else. But by kingdom law, a Zambari citizen was an enemy of the throne, and any and all conspiring with a Zambari citizen were considered traitors and criminals.
"Very few Notannes in Jordyen," Kale replied, eyeing Yaran for a second time. But the Zambarian's smile held true, and Kale saw no reason to expose his secret. Not at the moment, at any rate. Besides, Kale thought to himself, I trust Jerrie Two-Toes. "But I've heard of a village here and there. My father told me once that I have an uncle up in Jordyen. Fine country, by all accounts."
"I've seen worse," Yaran replied, tossing Kale another wink as he took his hand. Kale could feel a strong magic flowing through the Zambarian and this, combined with the fact that Yaran carried no visible weapons of any kind, told the young Notannes fighter that Yaran was most likely a mage.
"And this young lad here is Byric Lugh," Jerrie repeated, tapping the stomach of the man on the left. "Pure Alasion, true and true."
Byric's smile was forced, or so it seemed to Kale. "Nice to meet you, Byric."
"And the same to you, my friend," Byric replied, taking Kale's hand. Kale could feel a trace of magic in the man's hand and knew that he was either a mage or priest, although he presented himself as more of a forester or, perhaps, even a shepherd. Kale's eyes dropped to the medallion Byric wore around his neck. "Kallissa guides me," Byric said, tapping the medallion with his finger.
"The Goddess of foresters and rangers, isn't it?" Kale asked.
Byric nodded. "The same."
A priest as well as a ranger and a Zambarian mage, Kale thought to himself. These two could be powerful allies. "What now, my little friend?" Kale asked Jerrie.
"For now, you three should ready yourselves and your weapons," Jerrie replied. "Here, let's grab a couple of cots so that I can explain the rules of the Executioner's Pit." Jerrie led the three to a far corner of the room, dropping his round rump on a hay-filled cot. "Ahh, to have but the comforts of home," Jerrie said as he adjusted himself on the uncomfortable cot. Kale, Byric, and Yaran followed suit, and when all four were settled, Jerrie Two-Toes began explaining the Executioner's Pit.
"Listen sharp, boys," Jerrie said. "Competitions are an everyday occurrence here in Freeman's End. Now, there are usually thirty or so individual matches in a single day, but with the turnout we've got here, I'd say there will be more like twenty, or mayhap even less. You three will be grouped together, which means that the judges will be gathering larger groups of opponents than a single contestant would normally face. Don't be surprised if, during your first match, you come face to face with six or eight goblins. This might not seem so tough, but wait until you get to your second match, and then your third. The opponents will become increasingly more difficult as the day progresses, so you need to keep on your toes.
"The rules for this thing are a bit wishy-washy, and it sometimes seems as though the judges make them up as they go. Each battle has its own set of rules that needs to be followed. As an example, I can bet my eight remaining toes that you won't be allowed enchanted weapons in the first couple of matches. Spells won't be allowed either. But worry not, my friends. Old Jerrie Two-Toes will watch after your goodies while you fight with weapons the judges will provide. Now, as the matches get more difficult, you'll be allowed to use your more powerful weapons and spells. Eventually in the end, you'll be granted full reign of whatever you want to use, be it a volley of fireballs or an acid-raining blade!
"After each match, you'll be granted some rest time to refresh yourselves. There will be healers present to help with some of the minor wounds, but at a cost. Old Jerrie Two-Toes can also give you a hand with some of the scrapes and bruises, and mayhap I can even loan you a bit of gold in the event that one of you takes a real blasting. Yaran, you'll have a chance to meditate on your used spells, while Byric here will be given some time to speak with Kallissa. Hopefully the Lady of the Night Sky will be in good spirits!
"My advice to you three is to fight as a team. The more matches you win, the heavier your purses will be at day's end. Reserve your spells for when you really need them. That goes for Kale here especially, for you won't be able to get back any powers you use up today. Watch your backs and those of your partners. And finally, don't blast the Governor of Freeman's End, nor his wife, out of the pavilion. Trust me, they'll kill you for that around here.
"Oh, and one more thing. I'll bet my eight remaining toes that you'll be facing convicts at least once during the day, despite what they tell you or what you might have heard. Mark my words, lads, that a criminal fighting for nothing but his life is a lot tougher than a wagon load of angry orcs. Watch yourselves around these opponents.
"Well, that's all I can tell you, lads. Good luck, keep sharp, and watch your backs. And remember that old Jerrie Two-Toes will be rooting for you. If you all make it back alive, I just might have a job for you three down in Watersmeet. But we'll talk about that later. The judges are calling you in, so away you go. Good luck!"
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