"Dammit, why do they have to use that to send me around? Never mind the bleeding headache I get from it, but the fact that it could end up ripping me apart in travel is just bloody ridiculous!" A swirling mass of black appeared at the end of one radii of the circle of the pit. It continued to swarm like a cluster of gnats, or perhaps more sinister, but much more accurate, like a school of piraña's frenzied mobbing of a misfortunate bovine, picked clean by the snapping jaws of death. Eventually this malicious cloud of black settled into the dirt and stretched into a long shadow, like the yawn of some underground giant awaking from a nap. This shadow blackened ever so slowly, then faster, faster, faster until it looked like the shadow was looking out into the black depths of space itself. When it looked like the space was as black as it could ever be, the yawning mouth spat out a tall, humanoid creature in attire almost as black as itself.
"What in the names of the High Holiest Gods of Hell is this shit?!"
Ko'Gashi righted himself as he fell through the dimensionless void of shadow that had brought him to this hell-hole of an arena. Honestly, whatever idiot designed this place was, well, and idiot! The arena was too simple, too open, and only awarded the most block-headed of fighters who didn't know a simple ruse from a feint. Ko'Gashi could only hope this wasn't another one of the moronic trials that he had to face when he first tried to enter into the Tyveri Dunkelheit. While those had, at the end, required tactics, patience, and an eye for strategy, the first few rounds had required only some skill with a blade and a wit just as sharp. But this place seemed different, the crowd was loud, too loud, like a cacophony of drunken knaves too weak or too afraid to do battle themselves.
After wallowing a few moments and nursing his pounding head, Ko'Gashi looked up at what looked like giant boards with letters in light upon them. One, in a variety of technicolor read FLLFFL and the other, from what he could tell, read Evan Protaeus Nitener.
"Well at least my opponents have some variety in their monikers." Ko'Gashi muttered to himself, provoking a deep, throaty laugh that filled the arena before settling to eerie silence. He slid Tyveri imperceptibly from it's sheath and grasped Furtar firmly by the hilt as he awaited the next crucial moment.
"What in the names of the High Holiest Gods of Hell is this shit?!"
Ko'Gashi righted himself as he fell through the dimensionless void of shadow that had brought him to this hell-hole of an arena. Honestly, whatever idiot designed this place was, well, and idiot! The arena was too simple, too open, and only awarded the most block-headed of fighters who didn't know a simple ruse from a feint. Ko'Gashi could only hope this wasn't another one of the moronic trials that he had to face when he first tried to enter into the Tyveri Dunkelheit. While those had, at the end, required tactics, patience, and an eye for strategy, the first few rounds had required only some skill with a blade and a wit just as sharp. But this place seemed different, the crowd was loud, too loud, like a cacophony of drunken knaves too weak or too afraid to do battle themselves.
After wallowing a few moments and nursing his pounding head, Ko'Gashi looked up at what looked like giant boards with letters in light upon them. One, in a variety of technicolor read FLLFFL and the other, from what he could tell, read Evan Protaeus Nitener.
"Well at least my opponents have some variety in their monikers." Ko'Gashi muttered to himself, provoking a deep, throaty laugh that filled the arena before settling to eerie silence. He slid Tyveri imperceptibly from it's sheath and grasped Furtar firmly by the hilt as he awaited the next crucial moment.
