Conqueror

By the end of the day, I only had one thought in my head.

"I f.u.c.k.i.n.g hate running"

For two hours straight we ran around the edge of the arena. Bloodymaw in the center, whipping and beating the ones who fall behind. He seemed to pay particular attention to me, sending his whip across my back if I slowed down in the slightest.

By the end of the two hours, my back throbbed like it was one giant open wound. Bloodymaw yelled for us to follow him towards one end of the arena with dozens of thick wooden poles sticking out of the ground.

"Choose a pole welps, I am going to forge each of your weak pathetic bodies into weapons capable of terrible violence. Each of you will strike the pole with your fist as so"

He says before slamming his fist into a giant metal pole littered with dent marks and dried blood. His huge fist slams into the pole, the pole makes an ugly noise and a new dent is formed.

"Now start, those that slack off get to go to the Pit" He yells.

I steady myself before punching my fist into the pole, wincing as the rough wood scr.a.p.ed off the skin from my knuckles. I continue this, deadening my mind, focusing on the sole act of continuing the strikes.

After an hour he yells for us to start running again. My back, and hands throbbing and dribbling blood, I start running again. I know that if I fall behind Bloodymaw will torment me, use it to torture me. So I use a trick Uthred had taught me during one of his "teaching" sessions.

I focus my mind on a single target, to keep running. And block out everything else, pain, fear, hunger. I ignore all of that and just keep running.

After a period of time, I notice only myself and one other orc are left running. The others have collapsed from pain and exhaustion. Bitterly, I realize that it was Uthred's painful teachings that kept me up.

"You two, come here" Yells Bloodymaw at us. As we run towards him, I notice it's the same orc from my clan I had seen earlier.

Wylf was his name if I remember correctly, His father, Kun was a warrior in my father's raiding party. Wylf looked like a typical 12 yr old orc male from my tribe. 5 1/2 ft tall, dull green skin, tusks barely peaking out of his mouth, long black hair, and a build most human males would be jealous of.

"You two get the prize of eating tonight, then it's off to the Pits," says Bloodymaw, his face twisted in a gruesome version of a smile.

Before hooking chains up to our collars and dragging us down a set of stairs leading to a dark corridor with lots of large metal doors on one side. He opens one of the doors up, shoves us both inside and points at a tray with some raw cuts of meat, a pail of water, and old bread.

"There you go eat up, I will be back later. hahaha" he says, chuckling as he locks up in.

We look at each before jumping at the food, ripping off chunks of raw meat and gulping it down. Nearly choking I cup some water in my hands tainting the water pink with the blood from my hands.

Passing the pail over to Wylf, I start chewing on the bread, before slowing down and stretch out like Uthred taught me. Hissing in pain, I look at my swollen, bloodied hands.

"Any of them broken?" Asks Wylf, looking at me while taking sips of water.

"No luckily, Uthred taught me how to punch so I wouldn't break my knuckles. How about you?" I ask.

"One of them, Yeah I don't envy you, being a son of Uthred Drakeslayer is not easy, especially here. My hands I can handle, it's my leg that's killing me.

That filthy albino traitor's whip wrapped around my leg tearing it up. You think the raiding party will come to get us?" he asks, his face worried.

I don't respond, not wanting to tell him the sad truth. I know my father, he won't risk the rest of the clan's warriors on getting us back. He might be able to pull it off but at the cost heavy casualties. Uthred will do anything for the tribe, since birth he has drilled into my head that the clan comes first.

The silence stretches on for a long time as we are deep in our own thoughts while chewing on food. Suddenly a loud clanking noise takes us out of our contemplation. We look up to see Bloodymaw grinning at us.

"You welps all rested? good, now you get to hear the rule of the Pits. The rule is, two slaves, enter a room, only one leaves. You two are going to fight to the death"