Back in the game (Quest!)

Blood on Your Hands

Easy Quest

Requirement: Must have Completed The Beginner's Guide to Gladiators

Reward: 1,000 zeni

Welcome to hell, new blood. You may be ranked with us as a Gladiator, but you’re the lowest of the low. The hosts would like to see how you fare against your first matches. Luckily for you, your opponents will only be peons. Get out there and show them what you’ve got!

"And you're sure you're well enough to handle this? These won't be half-starved sand scrapers you're up against. These will be real fighters, trained and practiced. Some are likely to have fought and won in coliseum battles before." It was difficult to make out the concern in Bildrin's voice, but Goumi was starting to get adjusted to the subtleties in his bizarre buzzing. "I'm fine. I can't just sit here and wait to get better, okay? I kinda need the money." As it was, the conversation was taking place in an empty cell of the dungeon... and not because she was being held a prisoner.

Without local currency to pay for a room with, Goumi's choices were limited. She could either camp outside (as Bildrin had been doing), or--the alternative she requested--she could be loaned out a small section of unused prison. Criminals were generally executed as quickly as possible, often in the coliseum itself; it was no surprise that they'd find a room for her. She had slept rarely in her new quarters--the fact that it was a cold, damp prison cell on a lonely bug planet had part to do with it, naturally. The fact that her recovering wounds still pained her when she tried to sleep certainly didn't help. In the end, though, the real source of her insomnia was her training.

Goumi had been working out nearly non-stop since arrival. Push ups, sit ups, cardio. Her determined focus on preparing for the battles ahead left Bildrin quite impressed, if not a little bit worried. While he had done an excellent job of taking care of her injuries from days prior--ensuring that the damage wouldn't kill her--she was not quite in top shape, and stressing her body like this was dangerous... especially when real, actual fights were approaching. Really, it wasn't even the upcoming battles that drove her to act like this. Goumi... well, Goumi was scared. How was she going to get off this planet? Could she? And then what? Where would she go? She hadn't thought about it enough prior to taking off. What if she was stuck here forever...? Just how strong were these fighters she was up against...?

She didn't have answers, and she didn't want to think about the questions. Every second that she'd struggle and fail to sleep was one more moment that her mind was isolated, left with nothing to do but think and she hated thinking. Lately, anything even resembling thinking only came out as a deep, unsettling dread, a looming shadow that left her mentally shaken and, by proxy, weakened. The easy answer, of course... was not to think. Never. She kept herself distracted with training. She fought and she exercised and she never looked back, not for a second. She would kick in every door and destroy everything in her path and if she never stopped and never slowed down, she'd never have to consider the consequences.

"...Alright." Bildrin conceded. He'd seen the fire in her young eyes, and it wasn't the sort of beast he sought to stir. He gave his solemn nod as he chirped more quietly. "I just don't want anything to happen to you. You're my meal ticket as of now, understand? If you die out there, I'm back to scavenging the wastes." His dry, insectoid voice made it easy to hide his more deeply rooted concerns. She was young, and immature. He was starting to pick up on that now. While the guilt he'd feel if he became responsible for her death would be... vague and short lived at best, it was still a flavor of blood he didn't especially desire on his hands. He was starting to care about her condition, at least a little--not like a father for his daughter, of course. ...Or even a big brother. It was more like... like he'd just bought a goldfish.

A goldfish that he could make money off of.

The crowd was less than impressive. The big, important fights were advertised, and Arlians would march for miles and pay hefty sums to view them. This was by no stretch of the imagination a big or important fight. This was an opener. This was a sideshow act, akin to someone juggling at the far corner of a carnival. The handful of observers in attendance were less bloodthirsty, and more bored; this show was a time waster, a welcome distraction from the monotony of their pathetic Arlian lives. And, the tickets were cheap. Nonetheless, they gave their half-hearted boos and taunts as Goumi entered the expansive ring, jeering her status as an alien and an outsider (and a newbie).

They... didn't exactly cheer for her opponent, though. The arena fell into a very awkward silence, tainted with occasional joking as her gaunt Arlian opponent stumbled toward the fighting circle. His armor was rusted, dirty, and lightly damaged. His sword hardly looked ready for combat, closer to a children's toy than a weapon of war. They announced his name, but the creature with the megaphone had difficult pronouncing it; instead, the name came out as a half-defined mumble that no one, Arlian or otherwise, managed to understand. Goumi and the awkward bug man met in the middle of the ring.

Though the Arlian wasn't quite imposing in stature, he did tower over Goumi. She was still very young by the standards of her species, barely past the stage of hatchling, which rendered her plump, short, and a bit squishy looking. Her opponent forced out an uneasy chuckle as he readied his sword. He didn't have a sheathe worth keeping it in, he'd simply carried it into the arena, only now holding it at a definable pose. Goumi didn't laugh in exchange--or smile, or humor him with any level of response. She leaned low, rough hands tightening into fists... and she waited. The buzzer blared.

She'd give him this--he was quick, at least quicker than she'd expected. He lunged forward, his gangly arms giving him ideal range as he swept his cracked sword outward in a broad arc. He wasn't taking any chances getting close, and he was wise to do so; it was clear from the thickness of Goumi's build, and from the subtle contours of her shell-like flesh, that she was rather sturdy in melee. Keeping her at a distance put her at a grim disadvantage.

She scarcely managed to dodge the first attack, the end of the blade searing past her surprised expression. It was coincidence that she hadn't lost the fight then and there--had the fighters' starting positions been an inch or two closer together, Goumi's story would have ended immediately. She had no method of closing in before the backslash came around. He stepped into this one, drawing him closer--close enough to connect this time. She dove forward to try and shut him down before he could get the attack out, but to no avail--the sharp side of the blade sinking into her side, just beneath her arm as she shot her hands forward. The pain was evident in her expression--and the sickened shock in his, despite such emotions normally coming more subtly to Arlians.

One would, in a standard fight, have expected the sword to plunge on through. It would rend flesh, sever organs, kill instantly an opponent as unarmored as Goumi. Maybe even cut her in half, on a good day. However, her skin was... dense. Thick. Like armor unto itself. But it was undeveloped, a fault of her youth, which would normally have left her hide insufficient to the task of stopping a sword... had the sword not been dull, and its swinger particularly weak. This insect was unprepared and untalented--it would be his weakness, not Goumi's strength, that won her the day. The pain was intense, but not enough to stop her momentum--she maintained her forward lunge, hands finding a powerful grip on his shoulders.

She jerked the Arlian downward, sending a knee to his gut. It hit hard; his feet rocketed a foot or two off the ground just off the impact. His arms were left an uncomfortable, almost useless position as he struggled with his sword--to send it deeper, to pull it back out of her, something! It was stuck in her durable shell, leaving him unarmed and at her mercy. With his body still lowered, she'd wrap a strong arm around his neck, starting to choke him. The other arm swung overhead, pounding away against his back--blow after blow, centered on where she assumed a spine would be. Goumi wasn't familiar enough with Arlian anatomy to say for certain.

Her frustration built, each shot against his back hitting harder, and harder, until finally the grip on his sword's handle relinquished. He threw out both empty hands, firing blind punches into her sides, into her torso--anywhere he could, his knuckles bloodying as he found every inch of her as dense as the last. She was a wall, a round and tiny wall. He briefly slumped to one knee, the force of her pounding against his back finally dropping him; if not for her rough handling of his neck, he'd have likely fallen completely. It was only for an instant, however, as his passion and drive to live refueled his comeback. Taking advantage of her small size and his lengthy reach, he'd throw his arms around her entirely--groaning, struggling, but finally hoisting her off the ground and into the air. His feet slid for leverage as he brought her overhead, and with a final grunt, tossed her some healthy distance behind him.

Goumi attempted to find her footing, but it was of no use; she wasn't graceful enough for that sort of landing. She tumbled through the air before landing on her hands and knees, nearly face planting. With gritting teeth she'd quickly rise, wincing hard as she abruptly jerked the sword from her side. Blood spilled from the new wound, but she didn't take advantage of her newly acquired weapon. She tossed it aside, turning to face her opponent anew. He was bent over, hands against his knees as he labored to stay up, catching his one moment of reprieve. Goumi wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Hey, jerkface!" The Arlian opponent hesitantly lifted to his full form, slowly turning... just in time to find Goumi's full weight slamming into him. Distance was good; too much distance gave her room to run, room to charge. She hit him like a bull at full speed, her small shape launching off the ground and meeting his gut directly. It propelled him forward with daunting distance before the two of them finally reached the ground, where Goumi resumed the onslaught. Blow after blow found his face, the outsider throwing a flurry of wild punches into his visage. It wasn't fast, or pretty--it was absolutely brutal, in a way that this arena rarely saw. She didn't stop until she felt the pain surging through her hands, her knuckles stained with two shades of blood; she wasn't sure how long the Arlian had been still before she got off of him.

The audience was mostly unimpressed. Half of them hadn't even paying attention, really--but a few, a very odd few, politely cheered on the brutality. Goumi stopped to catch her breath and survey the crowd as the creature with the megaphone, off in the stands, announced her as the winner of the bout. She swallowed dryly, uncertain as to whether or not that satisfied her.

"It was a good fight. It really was." Bildrin hoisted a mug to his strange mouth. Goumi assumed he was drinking, though she hadn't yet figured out how he drank. She arched a thin eyebrow. "No it wasn't, it sucked and you know it sucked. I only won 'cuz of... 'cuz of stupid stuff, like him having a bum sword." She idly sipped at her own mug, unsure of its contents; all she knew was that Bildrin had promised her drunk and soon. Her Arlian accomplice pointed a thin finger. "Hey, keep it in perspective. You didn't have a sword, at all. I'd say you did pretty well, champ. I like that, by the way--the whole unarmed thing. It makes people less inclined to bet on you... and that means more money for me."

"Yeah, well... I might be lookin' into some armor soon, sword or no sword. I can't keep takin' shots like that." Her blank stare glided off to the side, glancing toward the new series of bandages that wrapped beneath her arm. Bildrin was doing a good job of keeping her alive, but she knew it was only a matter of time before her opponents came better prepared. A sharper sword, or a longer one... either would have ensured the end for Goumi, and with a certain promptness. It was another item on her list of things not to think about. "So what are we lookin' at next, huh?" Bildrin's eyes lit up a little, the tall bug seeming entertained by the thought. "Probably a few more fighters like the one you met today. Weak, ill equipped, inexperienced. Don't let them get you arrogant, though. There are already people clamoring to see you thrown to the dogs... I don't think it'll take too many of these paltry show openers before they put you against someone with wins under their belt." Goumi nodded, but didn't say much else--practically diving into her drink to escape any real emotional investment.

The next several weeks worth of fights were a blur. Goumi was still learning how to tell Arlians apart, aside from Bildrin; she'd been around him in particular long enough to recognize him. The others all sort of blended together, meaning every foe she faced, match after match, was nearly identical in her eyes. They did slowly improve--some of them. Once in a while they'd toss her an especially fragile competitor--maybe as a breather, or in some cases, to soften her up for a second, much tougher opponent. Sometimes she'd face two Arlians at once, though they were never any good. The advantage to the Arlians favoring the single sword style of combat was that she was learning how to combat it; with each fight that passed, Goumi was defending herself just a bit better, which made the recovery process that much easier. By the time Bildrin approached her cell with a nervous hesitance, she was almost back at peak condition.

"Well, uh... I think they're finally bringing the hammer down. They're giving you a while until your next match, but they wouldn't tell me who it was. When I asked, all they did was... was laugh."

Word Count: 2,440 words [COMPLETE]