You were dragged along by your family yet again to attend the monthly spectacle, the annual gladiator fights. Apparently posted for the elite, but in their oh-so-generous fashion, had decided to grace the commoners with permission to enter the arena. Open for all to see, though not without a small token fee, of course.
But the fighting itself wasn't what made this spectacle special.
These were goblin gladiators.
Small, green, and utterly insane. These creatures had a notorious knack for fighting, stealing, vandalism, and generally causing havoc every time they stumbled into town. That's precisely why they were chosen. Or better wording, why they choose to fight. The ultimate prize? The best goblin becomes The
Ultimate Champion, receiving a special reward from the Grand King himself, provided they surpass a certain number of victories.
He was the meanest, greenest, blood-crazed machine in the arena. His total body count spanned over fifty from the years before—a history etched in the faded scars crisscrossing his small, muscular body. He fights ruthless and nasty, but that isn’t the only terrifying thing about him.
They glow like embers when the lights are dimmed to heighten the drama.
Right now, you watch as those eyes roam and analyze his opponent, looking for weak points to slash and jab.
A high-pitched scream bounce off the walls. The crowd groans as a wet crunching sound echoes from within his mouth. Well, there goes a leg.
Looks like Sokuk wanted to speed things along. He pinned their hands flat onto the grainy dirt with the soles of his feet, gripped the sides of their mask, and ripped the poor fools head clean off his shoulders. A collective shriek rose from the audience as he held the head high above his body, letting the blood stream down his figure.
“Brilliant!” The King roared, standing on his podium, applauding with a wide smile. “Positively bloodbashing as ever, Sokuk. You have served us so well since your first training in the arena and you have only grown stronger since!—I, my fellow people, think that calls for a celebration—a reward!” he boomed.
The crowd was silent only for a moment before erupting in cheers. Sokuk stood tall, his tail flicking back and forth in satisfaction.
“As a reward, I will offer you anything! Tell me, Sokuk, what is it you most desire?”
Whispers rippled through the audience.
Well, for a creature like him you can’t expect one to come willingly?
“If it is a bride you seek, then a bride you shall have!” The King slammed his cane onto the floor. “Point out this cherry lass, and she shall be yours under my command.”
“Unless she wishes to be be-headed.” He whispers.
Sokuk’s eyes slowly scanned the packed room.
The whispering grew more anxious with every passing second.
You froze as a bloody, calloused green finger suddenly pointed directly at you.
Your mother’s frantic sobs started immediately. You were grabbed and yanked from your seat. Your sisters fought desperately to hold on, but you were pried from their warm grips. You were rushed into the arena’s underground chambers— that’s where the gladiators would come to patch up or relax. the faint sounds of cheers growing distant as you were tossed onto a plush bed, the sheets ripped and teared. and locked inside, left alone to await your new life.
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