The confident walked tall, knowing that they would win many of their battles, and that, if they lost, the public would spare them, for they were well loved. The most difficult to distinguish was the most difficult group: the ambivalent ones. They walked as those possessing of confidence, but their visages were blank and unresponsive. Halldór shuddered then, for these men disturbed him; they showed him the reality of what he could become.
However, Roghr had given him one piece of vital information, information that would keep him above them: a warrior who won all his battles and won the public's favor would be set free. This was his goal, but for no other reason than that he would then be free to do as he wished. He knew he could never return to his homeland, and those thoughts almost set the loop in motion, whirling through his mind and destroying his thoughts. He once more managed to halt its progression, however, for the thought of the coming battle overwhelmed it.
At last, the mighty troop of prisoners, escorted by their trainers and many great magi, marched through the Annon Gwann, the dead – for it was through his gate that the bodies of those slain were dragged unceremoniously from the amphitheatre – gate. The cheering of the crowd reached fever pitch as they at last laid eyes on the gladiators, the men who would be their entertainment for the day. Many of the gladiators were recognized, and as the more well-known fighters entered the arena people fell into heated debates about who would win, and many bets were made on the outcomes. The fights were indeed a major event.
The line of gladiators was then split into three smaller sections by a man wearing extravagantly decorated robes and wielding a small, obsidian rod. Halldór found himself at the head of the third group and, soon enough, was standing directly before the King of Varrock, one of the most powerful men upon Gielinor.
05-Apr-2008 19:12:58
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