by Aaron Oster
She already felt horribly guilty about leaving Arthur to be taken by the bird. She wasn’t about to allow all their possessions to fall into their hands as well.
Pressing her finger to her lips, she motioned Hopps forward, creeping silently up to the door, which was wide open. Putting her back to the wall, she carefully peered in.
A figure dressed all in black moved around their room, fingers running over the walls and floorboards. She spotted the bag of holding she’d given Arthur for saving her already slung over his shoulder and her coin pouch tied at his waist.
The sight of this filthy thief touching Arthur’s things created a visceral reaction of anger in her. Not caring in the slightest if she was seen now, Talia charged into the room with a roar of rage.
The figure whirled, his eyes going comically wide as he beheld a demon with glowing red eyes descending upon him with a massive hammer. He didn’t even have a chance to cry out before his head matter was decorating the walls.
Talia ignored the notification that she’d grown to level 16, instead slamming her hammer into the prone figure over and over.
“Tally,” Hopps soft voice called out. “We need to go.”
Talia froze mid-swing, teeth bared, and tears were threatening to fall from her eyes.
Why did I keep losing people? Why do I deserve this?
Growling under her breath, she slung the hammer over her back, and, surreptitiously wiping her eyes, bent down to retrieve Arthur’s bag. Rage boiled inside her, rage the likes of which she could only remember feeling one time before.
She whirled and ran for the open door, Hopps leaping aside she passed.
“Where are you going?” he called, chasing after her.
“To find the one responsible for this and end them!”
The inn’s patrons were poking their heads out at the commotion, looking to see what was happening. But by the time someone discovered the body, both Talia and Hopps were long gone.
28
“Rise and shine, corpse! On your feet!”
Arthur’s fitful slumber ended abruptly as someone began banging on the bars of his cell loud enough to wake the dead.
Then again, it is likely that people have died in here, Arthur thought as he cracked open his one good eye. He might have been dead, for all the guard knew. He had called him a corpse, after all.
“Screw you, asshole,” Arthur groaned, opening his eyes and glaring up at the guard.
He didn’t care if he was rude. He was a prisoner, and one that was about to be dumped into a life and death battle for the entertainment of others.
“A spirited one, aren’t you?” the guard asked, glaring down at him.
It was only then that Arthur noticed how very different the guard appeared in contrast to the others he’d seen so far. This Feline had stark white fur, was only wearing a pair of pants, and was absolutely covered in crisscrossing scars. Some appeared to have long healed, while others still appeared fresh.
One of his eyes was closed, with a thin scar running across it, while his other was a dark red. He appeared even more animalistic than most of the other guards as well, looking like a cat that had somehow learned to walk on two legs. Arthur’s eyes flicked above his head as he pulled the gate open, examining the Feline’s information.
Name: White
Race: Serval (Humanoid)
Level: 22
HP: 690/690
Class: Bestial Gladiator
That was surprising to him.
Arthur hadn’t expected that there would be Feline fighters, though it made sense now that he thought about it. Who else would they be pitted against in the pits?
“On your feet!” White barked, but Arthur merely shrugged.
His HP had refilled overnight, but his body wasn’t in the greatest condition. And frankly, he was in too much pain to get up.
“If you’d like, I can just kill you here,” the Feline snarled. “Or, you can get up so we can get you to a healer.”
Arthur gave the Feline one last glare before forcing himself, very painfully, to his feet. He was still dressed in just a loincloth, and every splotchy bruise was visible as he forced himself up. The right side of his ribcage was also oddly lumpy from where they’d been broken, and his breath rattled in his lungs as he strained himself onto his feet.
White didn’t move to help, merely waiting until he’d gotten his feet under him before turning his back and marching out of the cell.
Arthur debated running, if only for a second. But he dismissed the idea when he realized that in his condition, he wouldn’t make it ten feet before collapsing. Besides, he had a feeling that even at his best, he wouldn’t be able to escape this cat.
It wasn’t just his level that convinced him of that but something else. White exuded an aura around him as he walked. An aura of immense power. A power that he just couldn’t comprehend.
Yet, anyway, he thought, falling reluctantly into a shuffling walk behind the much taller Feline.
After a few more steps, White began to talk.
“You didn’t try to run. At least you’ve got half a brain in there. Perhaps you’ll survive the week.”
Arthur grimaced but decided it was better to try and ask questions now that he had the opportunity.
“How exactly do the pits work, and what makes you think I won’t last more than a week?”
White snorted yet again, keeping his gaze fixed ahead as he walked down the long stone corridor.
“The pits aren’t for the faint of heart. And if you’ve been dropped here against your will, meaning as a prisoner of the Baron, you won’t survive long. They’ll make sure of it.”
“I got that,” Arthur replied. “I’d still like to know how the pits work. Call me an optimist.”
The cat half turned his head, fixing him with his one good eye.
“I’ve seen hundreds like you over the years — all full of hope and optimism. So, let me burst your bubble now, kid. You’re a corpse walking, and you just don’t know it yet. There is no way out of the pits. No Champion to defeat, no favor to earn. You were sent here for one reason: to die. Better if you accept that now.”
White turned his attention back to the corridor ahead, signaling that the conversation was over.
Arthur’s mind was whirling. It was impossible that there was no way out. There had to be one; otherwise, his quest wouldn’t have made it a requirement. He guessed he’d just have to survive long enough to find it.
His mind flashed briefly to his friends, and he felt a knot of worry worm itself into his stomach. But he squashed it almost as soon as it began to form. Talia and Hopps were more than capable. If he couldn’t trust them to take care of themselves, he wouldn’t be able to trust them to watch his back in a fight. And seeing as he’d already done that on multiple occasions, he was sure they’d be alright.
It was then that he noticed that the corridor around him was growing brighter, signaling that they were arriving at their destination. Sure enough, just a minute later, the corridor came to an end. Another metal gate needed to be opened to allow the two of them through.
Arthur noticed that the Feline guard in charge didn’t give just him a dirty look, sending a hateful glare at White as well. It seemed that he wasn’t the most popular kitty around.
The gate clanged shut behind him, but Arthur was too busy looking around at the new area he found himself in. He was standing in a large, open stone room that was filled with other Intelligents and ani-humans. The room was rounded, and he spotted several gates built into the far wall, leading out into the fighting pits.
Guards lined the walls, outnumbering the prisoners at least three to one. Not that any of them looked willing, or able, to mount an escape attempt.
“Follow me,” White said, snapping Arthur from his examination of the prison.
He followed behind the Feline, looking around at all the despondent faces. All these prisoners looked as though they were already dead. Though, judging by what White had told him, t
hey seemed to expect as much. He did notice that not a single prisoner was injured. That could mean one of two things: either no one survived the first fight in the pits, or the healer was very good. Somehow, he thought it was the former.
White continued walking, leading Arthur around the curve. Arthur saw that there was less room in here than he’d initially thought. A row of bars ran across the room as he rounded the bend, cutting the room in half. He had a feeling that if he walked the other way, he’d find a similar set of bars there.
A rickety wooden bench sat propped against the bars, the only piece of furniture he’d spotted so far. A large ani-human Tortoise sat on the bench, staring despondently down at the floor. He also appeared to be mostly animal, with a large shell covering the majority of his body. He looked up when they approached, fixing them with sad, brown eyes.
“Got another one for you. He’s been roughed up, but he’s been cleared for full healing before his first match.”
The Tortoise sighed, eyeing him piteously.
“What’s the point, White? You know he’ll only be killed his first time out there. Just let him go in like this. At least it’ll be faster that way.”
Arthur expected the Feline to snap or growl at the Tortoise. But instead, White placed a paw on his shoulder.
“I know it hasn’t been easy for you here, Sheldon. But it’s an order from Captain Boris. If he doesn’t go out fully healed, it’ll be both our heads.”
“But what’s the point, White? I know that you’re still determined to go on. But I’ve got nothing. I have no family, no friends. I’ve been trapped here for years with no hope of escape.”
White sighed, his shoulders slumping. Then, he straightened his back, and when he spoke, his tone was commanding.
“Sheldon, you’ve been ordered to heal this prisoner before he’s sent into the pits. I expect him to be in perfect health when I come back.”
The Tortoise stiffened at his brusque tone, but he nodded, a sharp jerk of his chin that indicated he understood. White turned then, fixing Arthur with his one good eye.
“You’ll be sent into the pits in an hour with the rest of the first-timers. Whether you live or not is inconsequential. But it would be nice if you survived.”
With that, he walked past him, heading for the gates. But Arthur wasn’t watching him as a quest notification had popped up.
Quest Available: The Pits - I
You’ve been tasked by White to make it out of the pit in one piece. Can you do it? Probably not, but it’ll be fun to watch you try!
Objective: Survive your first round in the pits
Failure: Die
Difficulty: C+
Rewards: 5,000 XP, Next quest in the Chain “The Pits”
Note: This quest has been automatically accepted.
Arthur dismissed the notification with a wave of his hand, turning to face the despondent Tortoise.
“What was all that about?” he asked, trying to strike up a conversation.
But the Tortoise simply ignored him. His body glowed briefly with white light, then Arthur experienced a feeling of such relief that it nearly brought him to tears. A warm feeling spread through him, fixing his broken bones, removing swelling, and restoring him to perfect health.
He gasped, staggering as the healing light faded from around Sheldon’s body. Arthur flexed his fingers, his knees, and felt at his face. He was back to perfect health!
“Thank you!” Arthur said, taking a step toward the Tortoise.
“Don’t,” he simply replied, halting him in his tracks.
He then turned his back on him, facing toward the wall of bars. Arthur didn’t really know how to react to that. The Tortoise had fixed him but at the same time, didn’t think he’d live through the next hour. Finally, he shrugged to himself and walked to sit with his back to one of the walls.
His eyes trailed over the line of bars, wondering just what was on the other side. It was brightly lit, but for some reason, it seemed distorted. It was as though he were staring into a rippling pond with something just on the other side. He could sense movement through the bars, but he couldn’t see or hear what was going on there.
That left him to wonder. Were they just other prisoners like him, or their competitors? Perhaps monsters that would be unleashed upon the prisoners for the entertainment of the Felines. He leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling.
They hadn’t bothered giving him a weapon or armor, so he had to assume that he’d either be going in unarmed or that weapons would be provided once they entered the fighting area. In the meantime, he decided to look over his status, as it had been a while since he’d done so. He also decided to assign his attribute points from reaching level 14.
Character Status
Name: Arthur
Race: Humanoid - Poison Frog
Class: None
Level: 14
XP: 540/14,000
AP: 0
Survivability
HP: 160/160
MP: 100/100
STA: 370/370
Armor Rating: 0
Attributes
Strength - 5
Constitution - 16
Endurance - 37 (+3)
Agility - 46 (+2)
Intelligence - 10
Wisdom - 10
Charisma - 12
Luck - 10
Skills
6/8
Unarmed Frog-Bat: Level 11
Perception: Level 15
Knife Wielding: Level 12
Acrobatics: Level 9
Critical Strike: Level 9
Sixth Sense (A): Level 6
Abilities
5/8
Tae-Frog-Do: Level 11
Frog Slicer: Level 6
Parry: Level 1
Frog-Sassinate: Level 6
Drilling Blows: Level 6
Racial Bonus
Poison Touch: Tier 2
Spring: Tier 1
Arthur’s ring had been taken along with his armor when he’d been captured, dropping his Agility, Endurance, and Luck back to their base values. The loss of Agility was especially painful, as the boost he’d received from having 50 points in the attribute had gone. He’d noticed that he felt a bit less agile, and he’d just assumed it had something to do with the loss of the points.
But he noticed that it was more than that. The loss of a few points shouldn’t have made as much difference as they did. He wouldn’t have had enough points to push himself past 50, and he had a feeling that Endurance would be important in the upcoming battle. When he leveled up next, he would push his Agility past 50, regaining his lost grace.
He briefly debated taking one of the Tier 2 Classes offered to him for whatever small bonus they could offer him. But, in the end, he decided against it. If he survived, he would regret that decision, and if he got to the point where the small bonus would come in handy, he’d be so badly outmatched that it would make no difference.
One thing he noticed was that several of his skills and one of his abilities had broken through the threshold. He’d been too preoccupied to notice earlier, but now he pulled up the messages to see how they’d improved.
Congratulations, your Unarmed Frog-Bat skill has reached level 11. The skill has been improved.
Unarmed damage: +20% (Improved from +10%)
Congratulations, your Knife Wielding skill has reached level 11. The skill has been improved.
Damage with small blades: +20% (Improved from +10%)
Congratulations! Your Ability, Poison Touch, has reached level 11. The ability has now been upgraded.
Arthur was excited to see how his first ability to break past the first threshold had improved and was quick to open the ability’s description.
Tae-Frog-Do
Looks like you learned to use your legs for something other than jumping.
Ability Level: 11
Cost: 18 Stamina
Cooldown: 10 Seconds
Damage: ½ of Base Agility pe
r kick
Effect: Use your legs to deliver a powerful triple kick
Arthur closed the description, feeling just a hint of disappointment. He’d been hoping for a bit more of an increase. But then again, he did get off an extra attack, and the Cooldown timer had stayed the same, while the ability’s cost had only gone up by a measly 3 Stamina.
He checked the progress of his Spring next, noting that he was over ninety percent of the way to Tier 2. Just a few more uses would see the bonus’s power increase, even if it wouldn’t be by much. It was his most useful evasion skill at the moment. He had a feeling that Sixth Sense, the last, and only, lesson imparted to him by Hopps’ father would come in handy as well.
Letting out a long sigh, Arthur closed his status and stared up at the ceiling once again. He didn’t know what the next hour would bring. But he was as prepared as he was ever going to be. All he could do now was wait.
29
“On your feet, maggots!”
Arthur’s eyes snapped open. He’d begun dozing over the last hour as boredom had set in and had nearly fallen asleep before the guard had so rudely interrupted him.
He looked up to see a tall guard dressed in solid black armor standing by the far wall. All the gates leading into the pit were now wide open, and the guards along the back walls had started moving forward, threatening the prisoners with spearpoints.
Not wanting to be hurt before even entering the pit, Arthur rose to his feet and voluntarily headed for the open gate. He was the only one.
“Looks like we’ve got at least one lower life form with a spine!” the guard laughed as Arthur passed him.
Arthur didn’t dignify the guard with a response, walking out of the confines of the prison and out into the open arena. A cacophony of sound struck him like a physical force as he walked out into the pit. The ground underfoot was hard and rough, made of packed earth, and devoid of so much as a single blade of grass.