Chapter I: The Ugly and the Beast Part Two.

[Kharmak]

Seeing that the orc is still very much alive and breathing the gatekeepers tossed two other trolls inside - prisoners nonetheless, hailing from the Revantusk tribe. The two reluctantly began marching forth, trying to walk around the menacing dire troll to get to Rokh, both wielding spears with sharp ends. As much as one managed to go unnoticed the other one, spotted by the hulk, was immediately caught within the iron grasp of the giant - having caught the torso and the legs of the slave the beast twisted his flesh, ripping the warrior in two, beginning to toy with the intestines in the heat of the moment. As the Destroyer slowly stood up he caught the other attacker lunging at him with his weapon risen high, the harking yell of the Forest Troll echoing within the walls of the pit. Being prepared for the miserable attempt of an attack Rokh snapped the chain again, wrapping it around the Revantusk’s neck, pulling him down, the troll hitting the ground with a thud. As soon as he was lying down the orc mercilessly lift up his own foot to thump his skull down, crushing it beneath his steps - brains and tissues spilling out, eyes popping with the whites oozing from the eyeballs. He then yanked the spear out of his twitching hand, having a sort of advantage over the dire troll for the time being.

Rokh glanced up, eyeing the hulking monstrosity gnawing on the bones of the first fallen contestant, blood dripping from the maw as flesh and bones were crushed between its massive jaws. Using the fact that the troll was dormant for the time being the Destroyer lunged forth, stabbing the beast’s toe, later to rip the toenail away and, using whatever little time he had, stab the soft tissue beneath it with the spear, multiple times, until the tissue was literally shredded to pieces. As he noticed he monstrosity counterattacking with its fist that held the wooden spike he rolled to the side, avoiding what would otherwise be a fatal blow, being bold enough to lash his chain towards the wooden spike in the meantime, pulling hard enough to rip it from the troll’s grip, disarming him in an instant. A bewildered roar escaped the beast’s throat, saliva and blood dripping from its maw as it smashed Rokh to the side, knocking him over, lifting his foot in order to smash him as he lied on the ground with a spear in his hand.

Seeing what seemed to be an inevitable death to some the public gasped, with Yara already in the spot right above the very Arena. She crouched on the very edge of the wall, having her hands resting in between her feet to support herself and balance her body weight, eyes opened wide at what looked like a failure of the indomitable pit fighter. She straightened her back and observed every single second of the battle at hand, the smell of intestines, excrements and blood hit her nostrils.

However the Destroyer had earned his name for a reason - with the spear still in his palm he enhanced his grip on it, holding it closer to the blade so it did not snap in half. With a swift movement of his arm he extended the weapon up, awaiting for the dire beast to press the sole of its foot against it - as soon as it happened he put his entire strength into trying to prevent it from reaching his body, the muscles on his arms popping out, veins accentuated ever so vividly as he slowly pressed against the roaring beast, the hulk not caring about the injuries at this point, the two titans clashed in passive combat. After what seemed to be eternity Rokh managed to get up on one of his knees, piercing the foot of the giant through and through, blood gushing towards his face, covering him from head to toe. As soon as he tasted it he lashed the blade out only to begin to pierce the foot of the troll over and over again, chunks of flesh ripped away from the limb. It did not take long for the hulk to fall to its knees.

The crowd went wild seeing the turnaround of the fight, fists raised high into the air while screaming out loud “Rokh! Rokh! ROKH!”, the chanting neverending. The bested dire troll looked to its foot, seeing the blood spilling onto the ground it roared and attempted to punch the orc, hitting him in the chest - a sound of broken ribs was soon heard, the chest of the orc crushed yet driven by the adrenaline coursing through his veins he did not falter, grasping the fist of the beast. Carried upwards as it went back without the troll realizing the mistake that will cost it his life, Rokh dropped onto the creature’s massive shoulder, wrapping the chain around one of his tusks and pulling it - the enormous tooth fell out for him to catch, breaking away from the dire troll’s jaw. The Destroyer roared on top of his lungs, the fierce, blood-chilling battle cry tearing the ears of the gathered as he grasped the pointy, sharpened tusk and stabbed the eyeball of the dire troll. First left, then right.

Again.

And again.

And again.

The beast fell to the ground while gurgling, chunks of its brain leaking out of its eye sockets, the now two gaping holes in his head becoming fountains of blood, gushing forth as the orc sat astride a top of its neck, continuing to stab its face with his own eyes glaring, teeth bared, grunting following every single thrust until nothing more but a pulp was left from the head of his adversary. The gathering of the Vilebranch went completely silent at this point, not having witnessed such cruelty and prowess in the entire history of the arena.

And there she stood - the blood priestess, alone, now risen from her crouching position, firmly standing on the edge of the stone wall, lips lightly spread as her half-closed eyes looked down at the gory mess in awe and respect, the setting sun barely illuminating the Great City of Jintha’Alor at that time. The silence became a burden no one had the courage to sever, a chime of a broken chain dropped onto the floor and echoed in the valley, the orcish gladiator looked up to the blood-red skies, covered in the sanguine liquid himself. As he lifted his gaze he noticed the lone woman standing above the crowd, their glances meeting for what seemed like a longer while but in truth was mere few seconds. After a while he snarled, completely consumed by his rage, rising the sinew-covered tusk high into the air towards her, letting out a piercing roar of triumph that was quickly followed by the bewildered chanting of the crowd.

She continued to observe Rokh as he visibly waned, the blood loss slowly getting to him as he fell to his knees - back hunched, rhythmically moved by his deep breathing. They looked at each other for a few more moments, though she was sure he would not remember it, the long stare must have been a result of his unending rage. A group of slave masters soon jumped down to subdue him, the exhausted warrior offered no resistance at that point, completely depleted out of his strength, bound into his shackles and thrown back into his cage in no time. It was then when she realized, tightening the grip on her staff, the three elven skulls rattling quietly in the wind. She took in a deep breath, closing her eyes as she basked in the noises of the Pit, thoughts racing within her mind.

- Such power, such strength… - she murmured to herself, opening her eyes as she traced his cage being carried away, Rokh’s hand sticking through the bars, motionless and limp. - I will make sure you are fit to journey in two days. You shall make… a fine offering. - she exhaled softly, grinning from ear to ear, her face becoming more and more sinister with each passing moment. Razakar was just a few yards away, approaching her slowly with his swaggering stride, quite content with how the fight had turned out. She threw him a glance, giving him a nod, the vile smile still present upon her visage as she thought to herself after turning away to catch the sight of the victorious gladiator for one last time before the next day. - You are mine now.