The sand in the arena was splattered with sweat, tears and blood. Splotches of color in the off white sand, highlighting the desperate struggle to win from many a man and woman as they fought for the prices the small village had to offer. The arenas fighting floor was only separated from the onlookers by a ring made of stones, bones of animals and crystals, build up to the height of a normal mans hipbone and sharp as a freshly made bone knife.
The crowds were roaring at the two figures down in the pit, loud and angry and hopeful all at once. The group around the pit was mostly made up of Hobgoblins, Goblins. A few Humans and other variants of bipedal sentient beings among them. All of their eyes were focused on the fight, watching the female Hobgoblin in rapture as she swiftly backed the babarian man that challenged her to a fight into one of the corners, her great sword flickering in the sun that harshly burned from above them all.
Quick as the snakes under the dunes, the Hobgoblin female dropped her sword, grabbed the panting male and in a move that showed off her amazing strength, threw the flailing human right out of the fighting pit, where he landed face first in the sand.
“Winner of the challenged fight is.... Nasrigal! The shieldmaiden of Hebon stays undefeated!” crowed an old man from his place in the shade, long ears drooping with age but his teeth still sharp.
The crowd yowled for her, for their shieldmaiden, the best and strongest among the tribe, as she hefted her sword on her shoulder, her shield in her hand. Her golden colored eyes squinted at the gathered people, drifting and scanning the crowd.
“Is there anyone else who would want to challenge our shieldmaiden?” crowed the old man again as he left the shade with slow and steady steps.
Suddenly you could hear a pin drop in the sands, no sounds bar heavy breathing remained.
No one dared to challenge the shieldmaiden.
The female Hobgoblins shoulders drooped slightly, her eyes lost some of the sparkles she had only seconds ago and her eyes wandered off to the side of the pit that lay closest to the hut holding the mobile altar of their gods, finding the eyes of copper color hidden behind a mask.
Nasrigals steps were heavy as she left the pit and walked through the still silent crowd, which parted for her easily. No one in the crowd made a move to follow the winner, more interested in the next fight that would come.
Nasrigal entered her small hut with a groan, sword and shield swiftly put onto the cleaning table before she sank onto the small, backless chair she owned. She didn't focus on the dancing sunlight coming from the opening, or the swishing sounds of cloth as someone else entered her hut, she closed her eyes, whispered words falling from her lips as she cleaned her weapons, praising them for their good work.
Only when she finished servicing her weapons and putting them in their rack was she looking at the silent person in her hut, the patient one waiting for her to end her own personal rituals. Nasrigal swept her hand through her hair, tangling it as she waited for her friend to say something, but the masked priest stayed still, watching her with warm eyes.
“Kassker.” she greeted softly, finally. “I won.” It was said in a matter of fact voice, like it was nothing new or special to beat a bear of a man. And for this shieldmaiden, it was just that. But her voice had the soft tinge of sadness coloring it.
“Yes. You won the honour fight. You are still undefeated. The humans proposal for your hand in marriage was declined by the Elders.” the cleric said, striding over to her and putting their hand on her shoulder, squeezing it roughly.
Nasrigal leaned her forehead on the muscled arm, her eyes closing. “Why? Why can`t I find a worthy one? Why do the gods forsake my wishes for a family?” she whispered into the warm flesh, her sharp teeth scraping over red skin.
“I do not know. But I know that the Gods won't shun you, nor will they have you alone forever. Outside of the sands, there must be a man or woman worthy of you Nasrigal.”
“Kassker, I can`t leave the tribe! I can't just go off into the scorching sands and look for them! My duty has me staying here to protect the tribe!” the shieldmaidens voice was full of anger and sadness, rough and raw, as she spat the words, her heart aching in her chest.
There was heavy silence following her statement. No one moved, not even the winds dared to rustle the heavy cloth of the hut.
The hand on her shoulder squeezed again, more heavy this time and the muscles under her forehead twitched in slight agitation.
“If you can't go...” Kassker started, their voice rising in volume, “than I will go in your stead.”
“I will go out for you, I will find the strongest fighter for you! I will find someone worthy of your heart.” the cleric said clearly from behind their mask, their hand dropping from the females shoulder.
Gold eyes met copper ones, wide with wild hope and a touch of something that was gone too fast for the cleric to understand.
The chair clattered to the floor as big, strong arms wrapped around the smaller cleric like steelbands, pressing two bodies together with lung-emptying force.
“You know that means that I will train you to fight better, right? Just so that you can survive away from the tribe?”
“.... Gods give me strength...”
