Jherek was cold and hungry, and he knew that his wife Mara was probably feeling even worse. Mara had been feeling sick for the past week so they had gone to the nearest town with a healer to find out what was wrong. It turned out that the news was actually good, Mara was pregnant! The couple was ecstatic and celebrated on their way back to their town... at least until they were greeted by a group of blood beards. A clan of crazed dwarves who attacked random unsuspecting travelers on the road and dipped their beards in the blood of their enemies believing it gave them more strength in battle. They attacked the couple who ran into the woods trying to lose the vicious band. After intense hours of running and hiding the dwarves gave up the chase and left to find other victims. This was how the couple came into their current situation, lost, hungry, and scared in the woods with night rapidly approaching.

The pair stumbled through the forest tripping on the occasional upraised root trying to find the road. When night eventually closed in around them snatching away their vision the couple gave up hope, at least until they heard music not to far away. They followed the enchanting melody until they noted a bright glow emitting from somewhere beyond the gnarled trees in front of them. Jherek and Mara hurried forward hoping that they had found the road. They burst out of the trees into a small meadow completely encircled by the forest with a man sitting by a campfire in the center of it.

The two approached the campfire drawn there by the music and the mouthwatering smell of something cooking over the fire. "Hello friends" said the man as his fingers danced on his lute pulling music from it. "Come sit by the fire and join me; if you are filling hungry then I have a nice pot of stew over the fire. I made far to much for just myself." he said with a smile. "Oh thank you sir!" Jherek said as he led his wife to sit by the fire. Normally he would have been cautious of such a man but for some reason he felt completely safe around him sensing no malice or hostility. "Is there anything we can do to pay you back?" Mara asked as she took the bowls the man gave her and ladled them full of the rich thick stew. The couple could now get a good look at the stranger who was now easily visible in the fire light. He had long hair and an attractive face. He wore a woven gold and black vest under a large forest green cloak to keep the chill out. "No need" The man said with a smile "My payment is your company and friendship for a night." Jherek and Mara thanked the man again and dug in eating the delicious stew and savoring every bite.

After they had finished Mara looked at the man with some embarrassment "I'm sorry we were so rude we didn't even ask your name."
"No offense taken, just call me Tale Weaver" He said pulling his lute into his lap and strumming a cord. "Tell me" He asked the couple "now that you have eaten your fill would you care to hear a story?" Jherek and his wife looked at each other and shrugged "I've always enjoyed a good story so why not" Jherek said. "Very good" responded the Tale Weaver. He strummed a chord on his lute and started off on his story his music adding a weight and magic to his words.

"This story is one from long ago about Diran the land you inhabit and the once great empire of Seria. We start our tale after the great tyrant, King Blackwell, sends his army over the Griffin Peak mountains to take over this beautiful land and enslave its people. Those were dark times where no hope was in sight, and all the people were lost. The citizens were captured and either forced to work in the salt mines, or fight in the gladiatorial arena. This is where we find the heroes of our tale. They are gladiators all strong in their own right and all from different backgrounds. Right now our heroes are in what the people of Seria call the gladiatorial stables meeting each other for the first time, and meeting their trainer for the first time too."

"Alright you piss ants!" the trainer shouted at the six gladiators lined up in front of him. He was a tall heavily built man with scars covering his arms and face. He favored wearing a light sleeveless tunic and loose breeches which somehow only helped show his muscles and old scars "You six have been chosen by some idiot desk jockey in the gladiatorial arenas operating staff to be stuck in a six man gladiatorial team. By some ungodly stroke of luck I have been selected to train you six pieces of crap to be able to survive in the arena!" He lectured walking up and down the line. "Now you will be given three meals a day and a nice floor to sleep on in that small building over there." He said pointing at the building on the edge of the practice field. " This here will be your training ground, you will spend all of your time except for meals and sleep working out here trying to make sure you wont die in your next fight. If you have any complaints then please tell someone who gives a damn, and If you try to escape you will be killed on the spot." The trainer stopped and glared at the gladiators. "Do any of you have questions? If not then go to the mess hall and get your first meal here and meet your healers. They will be your best friends from this day forward."

Darastrix Dastudr couldn’t help but visibly frown, and with more than one reason. One being the all around “Mr. Feelgood”, sunshiny man who so eloquently introduced himself to the group in such a positive and welcoming manner, equivalent to that of an ass, in all three senses of the word. The second reason being the foulness of animal…leavings stinging his nostrils in the most unpleasant way possible, he would have to get used to it of course, adapting was the only way to survive this kind of life not that there was much choice.

For years now Dara, as we will now call him, had been fighting in games at small venues, those who could not afford to spend them selves at the coliseum would do so there, placing bets with petty cash on the victor. Now it seemed that it was seen fit to promote him into fighting in the Grand Coliseum of Seria; perhaps it was due to the agreement he had made not so long ago for the release of himself and his family, by fighting his way to victory and freedom. If that was indeed the case then it wouldn’t be much longer before his goal was achieved, but there was still a fear that he had been lied to, that his father had long since the last time he saw them were killed and that he fought for nothing. Dara shook those thoughts from his head, he couldn’t think like that now, not when he was so close, although one thing had never really factored in during his previous arena days: a team.

Beside him were five others; A boy no bigger than anyone else and couldn’t be any older than him and wore no expression, an elf woman who looked like she wouldn’t think twice about ripping a mans head off, a Nordic man whom was about the same build as their trainer, another man whim concealed his face with a mask and wore the attire of an archer, and a young woman who looked to his own age. Dara gazed at his hand, covered in leather wrapping around his palm to increase grip, and clenched it, then said to his new “team”, “Better get this over with eh?”

The gladiator began his stride to the building their trainer pointed out to, assuming the others followed. In little time he was at the barracks, and instead of more animal stench a more pleasant sent reached his nose, one that smelled of vegetables and spices. He came upon the mess hall, the room was small only big enough to fit everyone present and a handful more. There was a large boiling pot over a furnace in the corner, more than likely a stew which Dara had whiffed earlier. Also in the room were three other people; a half-elf, for Dara could tell his ears were not as prominent as most elves, with a small frame a pale face, a man with various bandages on him which was curious considering Dara was told only he and the others were gladiators, and… a very gentle young woman whom he assumed was his own age but had a ethereal presence about her. Nothing malevolent mind you, in fact it was a very soft and gentle presence that Dara couldn’t find a reason for.

His attention retuned to the pot, and asked them “I assume that’s for all of us right?” he managed a smile. He held out his hand to the older man assuming he was the senior attendant of the three “Name’s Dara by the way. I also assume you guys will be our healers?” He knew it would serve them well to get acquainted right away, for he knew not when they would be called to the arena.

(Sorry about the double post. I don't know what's going on. Lately, every time I make a post, it doubles it for some reason. :/ I'll try and fix it as soon as possible.)

It had to be some kind of a joke, he was sure of that, but he didn't argue the matter any further. For the past few years he had been thrown into the arena, made to kill for the entertainment for the sick bastard that was now calling himself the ruler of this land, but a few days ago they had come to him, tended any wounds he had been carrying, and then sent him out to a new area he had yet to see before. It seemed to be for training, and there wasn't really anything there got a small shack, which is where he found himself presently.

He and two others, his memory was horrible and he couldn't recall their names, had been assigned to be healers for a handful of gladiators. So far all they had done was prepare a meal, a simple stew of meat and vegetables that had been provided for them by someone. It smelled delicious, and he was getting rather hungry.

Just before he made to ask the others, who seemed more in charge, or at least seemed to understand what was going on better than he, if it could have a bowl of the stew the door burst open and six figured walked into the shack. A small chill ran the length of his spine at the sight of them, and the animal within wanted out, but he kept it in check, and just to be sure, turned and walked back over to the far corner. He decided it would be best to allow everyone else to take what they wanted of the stew, then to get whatever might be left over. Doing so would upset the beast within, but he was in no mood to cause trouble so soon after being told he would no longer be forced to kill.

Leilatha did not care too much about what was coming out of her “new” trainers mouth because she was too busy trying to get eyes adjusted to the sunlight. She never got much time in the sun because she was always either resting in the cages below the arena or in the infirmary. She couldn’t help but squint as she stood there straight as a board staring blankly ahead.

It did not take her long to snap out of her little trance hearing the trainer saying the world ‘team.’ Great. Knew there would be some catch to having a nice meal and being outdoors. That was the first time she actually looked up and down the line gazing at the others who stood next to her. At least I am not the only girl. Leilatha half smirked at her own little private joke before her face become emotionless again. Lets just hope they are not the type who want to be “best friends forever.” Leilatha knew that it would not be long until only five gladiators would exit the arena therefore there was no real need for her to become best friends with them because there was no time for grieving in their line of work. But who would be leaving first?…maybe if one of them happened to have an accident then maybe they would not have to continue this partnership. She faintly shook her head, she could not just let one of them die or could she?

Again her thoughts where interrupted as she noticed commander spit face walking away and some of the gladiators making their way to a small building a few metres away. What now? Leilatha followed slowly keeping her distance a little as she did not to be dragged into an conversations. She was more the type to listen and observe than talk.

Once inside her nostrils were filled with the scent of something spice and vegetarian. Her eyes spotted the pot where the delicious smell was coming from but then found them wondering towards the gladiator that spoke. She then noticed some new face, who she figured where the healers the team would be getting. She was not really the biggest fans of healers, although she does appreciate their work. She just hates all the touching that occurs when they are doing their job.

Leilatha decided that she would not participate in the introductions and instead get something to eat before it was all gone. She swiftly shuffled passed the group and towards the pot grabbing herself a bowl full before taking a seat on the table and digging in. The food was delicious and way better than her last meal of bread and water.

Rowan Verrow eyed the others he stood next to carefully. It unnerved him a bit to think that he’d have to work with these people from now on. Not in the sense that he didn’t want comrades, but more in the sense that it scared him to bond with others. After all, what would happen if they were to be hurt? Or worse? His shook the thoughts out of his head as he listened to the group’s new ‘trainer’, a burly looking man who seemed very accustomed to the arena.

Rowan wiped the sweat from his forehead gently and wiped his hands on the somewhat long shorts he wore. It was hot in the stables, something Rowan was unused to considering his being forced into fighting not a year ago. The salt mines were harsh, but this was going to be on a whole new level than Rowan had faced before. I wonder if I’ll be able to handle it...? He thought, looking at his comrades once more. I wonder if I won’t hold them back?

Rowan’s thoughts, and worries were washed away at the mention of food. It had been a while since he had eaten a decent meal, and it sounded especially good about this time... He glanced over at the man beside him. A tall and strong looking man that seemed not much older than himself. “Right... sure.” He muttered in agreement with the man, keeping his sharp gaze steady the whole time.

Following the man into the mess hall, Rowan was hit with the strong and overpowering smell of food. He tried not to show his excitement as his mouth watered for the delicious food that he would soon be eating, provided that this food was indeed for him and his fellow gladiators.

(I'm sorry. I really don't get this double post problem. Not to mention I posted in the wrong spot to begin with. >.< I've spent too long away from this site... Anyways, please forgive me. I'll fix these issues as soon as I can. In fact, I plan to post on the Help Forum for the double post deal.)

Kelyren's patience was wearing thin.

He toyed idly with a spoon, staring at the pot of food and wishing the new gladiators would arrive already so that he could eat. He hadn't eaten all day, and he was hungry.

I need to get my mind off food. Kelyren twirled the spoon around in his fingers again, and looked to the other two healers in the room. Both of them were strangers, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable in their presence. Anxious thoughts filled his head: Are they watching me? Do they know I'm looking at them? Who are they? Do they know how long we'll be waiting? I hope they didn't hear my stomach grumbling all this time...

He sighed, putting the spoon down before he gave into temptation and helped himself to a bowl of stew. Hopefully he could wait a few minutes longer. The gladiators were bound to be hungry, and they wouldn't delay themselves from a meal unless something forcibly detained them. Maybe something had happened. Maybe there was a mistake and -

The door swung open before he could finish the thought. Six gladiators strode in, and Kelyren eagerly looked up at the team he had been assigned to. He remained silent and kept to himself for now. Introductions would come later, or when someone asked him who he was.

He watched as one of the gladiators helped herself to a bowl of stew. She looked quite ferocious to him, and he quickly looked away, hoping that she would not take his gaze as a challenge or offense of some kind. His stomach growled again and he finally spoke up in a cheerful tone.

"I guess this means we can all dig in, right?"

Bliss stood in the room among the five other solders, a dull ache reverberating in her mind in time with each heartbeat. Fortunately for her, it was the only thing that really stuck with her from the last battle she had; it wasn't a pretty one either. She had been lucky for that healer or else, she knew with certainty, she wouldn't be standing there listening to the man insult them with his petty comments at the moment. . . . Well, fortunate depending in whose eyes you looked in. She grimaced, trying to erase the battle from her head, not wanting to remember what fate the other guy had finished in. It hadn't exactly been much of a fair fight either, the guy had been all brawn and muscles with a huge longsword and Bliss had had the opportunity to fight him with a dagger. But apparently luck had been on her side because she had winded up as the victor and she loathed herself for it. She hated that she had to kill to keep herself alive, but at the same time it was as simple as kill or be killed and Bliss simply valued her life too much to let herself die.

She refrained the urge to shudder and instead tried to focus all of her energy on what was happening, not that she exactly wanted to. The man was ranting at them and Bliss thought it was ever so amusing. She felt her lip twitch and tried to stay blanked face, although it was rather hard where she swore she thought a vein prod from his forehead. Who had peed in this guy’s coffee anyways? She really hoped that he just happened to be angry and it wasn’t his real personality . . . because she pitied the person who had to put up with him every day; oh, wait. Although luck seemed to be on her side once more when he soon dismissed all of them, not knowing if she had enough self-control for her face to remain blank a second longer. Did he know how ridiculous he looked when he was that angry? His face was all red and blotchy and he seemed slightly out of breath from his rather large, angry rant about the six of them.

Her eyes followed her team mates as she lingered behind them for a bit, trying to at least figure them out. She glanced at the female first, feeling a slight sigh of relief. She didn't know how well she would fare only being surrounded by men, although the girl did look slightly distanced, almost as if she didn't really want others talking to her. She put that in a mental note, knowing she would forget it as soon as she got to the hall. The other one was a large man who seemed to be mostly muscles and Bliss felt a hint of relief knowing that he was on her side, she really wouldn't want to battle against him herself. Her next glance came a bit as a shock, as the guy had red scales on his arm. She felt the need to ask him if she would be allowed to touch them but banished that from her mind, not wanting to seem childish in front of any of them. Her next glance landed on a seemingly small looking boy although she didn't judge, she had learnt not to assume someone wasn't deadly just if they didn't look it. Although she felt a rather foolish urge to try and protect him from harm. The last glance was a human, like herself and as much as her eyes lingered on him, she couldn't exactly figure him out.

All of the thoughts about her fellow teammates popped out of her head as soon as she got the whiff of something delicious. Her stomach growled angrily and she realized just how long she had actually eaten and how ravenous she actually was. With a large smile on her face she followed the smell as well as her teammates and soon found herself in the gladiatorial stables. She found three other people and she couldn't help get the distinct feel of healers off of all of them. Bliss saw with content another girl that seemed to be really kind, much like the feel she got off of most healers. The other one was an elf and she grinned, finding herself to like him already for that sole fact. She had had an elven best friend when she was younger and was left with the assumption that all elves were that kind. That last one was another man and she felt herself not able to read him, like the human in the other room.

Bliss smiled, knowing that she would be stuck with these people for a while, or up until they got killed anyways. It would be beneficial for her to befriend them, besides, she needed someone to talk to or she would go mad. She shot them all a smile, even though no one was really paying much attention to her. "Hey guys, nice to meet you all. The name's Bliss, kinda a stupid name to have when you're a gladiator," She grinned at her own, lame joke and continued on. "But anyways, looks like we'll all be together for a while now, right? That's bound to be interesting," She told them all, her tone betraying her optimism.

Sean was unsure of many things... He didn't know what the difference would be between the combat he knew and the arena everyone was so afraid of, or how well the others could fight, or what sort of training the scarred man had in mind, but he did know one thing... He was going to be forced to kill to survive.

He liked the sounds of it to be perfectly honest.

Sean was born to a nomadic clan of barbarian warriors, who fought not for territory or for supplies, but almost always for the thrill that came with battle. He had been raised to handle a sword since his arms were strong enough to hold one and had cleaved a man in two not many moons afterwards. He knew combat and killing better than he knew the language of this strange land, granted he knew little of the language in the first place. He knew how to say hello and his name, and ask for food, but short of that, he knew little else. His weapons and fists would have to speak for him on the battlefield then...

Sean clenched his fist in anticipation, a grin spreading on his face. He wore no armor, merely a large thick leather belt covering his stomach and a pair of loose-fitting brown breeches, the breeches having been given to him not long ago... prior to them, he had worn a mere loincloth. His body was also covered in quite a few scars, it being obvious that he had seen the wrong end of a weapon more times than he cared to remember... mostly due to his young age. His hair looked as though it hadn't been cut since birth, nor properly washed short of dunking it into a river and calling it a day. He glared at his sides at his new comrades, and saw that none of them looked to be as big or strong as him, and inwardly he wept. Not a warrior in the bunch... Sean decided that watching their backs would be a full time effort, and one not many of his clan ever cared to make for one man, much less five...

He would fight as though alone then... He doubted he'd need them to kill anything the arena sought fit to send to slaughter in the first place... unless it was more of those soldiers that had nearly wiped his clan from existence... He was one of the few to suffer the shame of being taken alive.

He tried to push the thought from his mind as he advanced toward the shack that held their food, nearly running to be the first to swing open the door, looking at the pot of stew as though it were the body of a woman. It was the first decent meal he'd had since his capture...

"Food" He said, his accent still very apparent and thick, grabbing a bowl and filling it to the brim before sitting down and began swallowing the broth straight from the bowl, plucking the meat and vegetables from the stew with his fingers. He heard some of the others speak, but paid them no mind, as his stomach took priority at the moment.

Adriac Veras didn't sleep that night..not after regaining consciousness. He just sat against the wall of his cell silently, staring at a floor he could not see. How could I have failed? he thought to himself angrily, I had one real chance to be free and I ruined it. How did I not see that one soldier?!? The day before, Adriac had been brought to this arena as a prisoner. Those in charge wanted to find out if he was cut out for this sort of fighting..so they had scheduled a preliminary match between him and another gladiator would-be. Adriac had tried to take his only chance to escape.

The fools had given him his weapon of choice, a longbow. All of his life Adriac had practiced with it and killed with it. He had learned to use the magic within him to enchant arrows..making them even deadlier. As soon as the fight had begun, Adriac had launched an arrow enchanted with lightning into his opponent..the poor man was dropped instantly. Not wasting a second, Adriac had then proceeded to fire two arrows enchanted with fire into the crowd..they exploded on impact and drove the arena into chaotic panic.

He tried to use this distraction to get away, but one soldier had noticed him. Adriac didn't notice the man and was struck from behind, dropped to the ground unconscious. Now he was sitting in a cell in the Gladitorial Stables waiting to find out what was to become of him.

Strangely enough, when morning came, nobody said anything to him. He was told to get up with the other five, but nothing more. Apparently they had decided to keep him around. All night Adriac had struggled with a splitting migraine, and now it was so deeply set in that he closed his eyes to avoid torchlight. Even as he opened them briefly to keep his bearings while following the others, he didn't look any of them in the eye. These people were unimportant.

Adriac had mostly resigned himself already. There was little chance of another opening to escape. He had spent so many years running from this life, and now he was trapped in it. So many soldiers killed by his hand to delay this fate, but it was inevitable. They had reached the room with the stew now, but Adriac's eyes remained closed. His head felt like it was tearing itself apart, and he was nauseus. The archer stood there listening only to his thoughts.

The trainer, Jacob, paced around outside in the training field waiting for the delivery. He had a special surprise planned for the newbies and it was about ten minutes late. He was getting impatient; it wasn't enough that he was forced to take care of these misfits now he was stuck out here in this godforsaken field baking in the heat. These piss ants he was given were supposed to be the best the gladiatorial arena had to offer, at least that's what he had been told when he accepted this job offer. For some reason he doubted that statement, and even if they were the best the arena had to offer fighting as a team is on a whole different level than fighting solo.

After a few more minutes of brooding Jacob heard the clip clop of hooves down the way. "Ahh there it is" he said with a small smile of satisfaction. Jacob waved the cart down and pointed it towards the small arena that the gladiators used for a practice field. He would let the newbies eat for a little while longer, but then they would get to meet his little greeting present.

Only after all the others had gotten their food did William go back to the pot for his own bowl, his stomach now growling. During the introductions, and there had been but a few, he had sat silently, watching and listening, trying to place names and faces together in his memory so they could be used later. This was a daunting task, however, due in large to the beast. It was hungry, more hungry than he was in truth, and so he had to keep him fought back. Sometimes he liked to image the beast deep inside him, locked within a huge iron bar cage...

After getting his bowl of stew he makes his way back to his little corner, plops down, and begins to eat, soothing his stomach and the beast's as well. The growling, of both his stomach and mind, was slowly fading as he ate.

But then he smelled something, over the normal smells of this place, and the people within the shack, and the stew. Horses. At least one, maybe a few more, pulling something he was sure, because now he could hear their hooves on the ground, and was sure there was another noise, like wheels turning. This was a side effect of his lycanthropy. Even in his human form his scenes were heightened, like those of a wolf. He could smell and hear things more acutely, and at a greater range, than normal people. Sometimes, if he concentrated, he could even see in the dark, with no light at all.

"We have company..." he mutters, to anyone who might happen to be close enough to hear, should they have bothered to be listening.

Kelyren found that his question was answered soon enough, and got up to help himself to some food. He ladled stew into his bowl until it threatened to spill over the edge, and made his way over to where he had been sitting. He ate slowly, taking great care not to make a mess. Unfortunately, the stew did not taste as good at it smelled. Food was food, though, so he ate without complaint.

He glanced at the others who had gotten a bowl of food, watching them in the hopes that he might be able to learn a bit about them from how they were eating. He couldn't help but notice the large, bearded man devouring his bowl of stew with his bare hands, and shifted away from the gladiator slightly. No doubt he's a barbarian of some kind... he sure eats like one, Kelyren thought as he turned his attention to the man in the corner. Now this guy. One of the other healers. He seems sorta quiet to me, maybe he's the kind of guy who keeps to himself.

Kelyren was close enough to hear him say something about having company.

"Company?" he asked after swallowing a mouthful of food. "You mean, the rest of us who are crammed into the mess hall with you?" He grinned as he spoke, gesturing around at the others with his spoon. "Or do you mean to say that we have another unexpected guest who's about to show up?"

Kelyren spooned up a large chunk of meat and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly as he waited for a reply.

Out of the corner of her eye Leilatha noticed a set of eyes staring at her as she ate. She decided not to turn to the person and ask what his problem was but instead just watch him from the corner of her eye. Leilatha could hear his stomach growing as he quickly looked away from her. Why doesn’t he just eat? She knew he was a healer since she could not recall seeing his face outside. He must think that one of them will hit him if he does eats. But that would be a very unintelligent thing to do because we need him for his healing skills.

Her attention was drawn away from the healer and towards the only other female gladiator as she spoke. She was smiling cheerfully and acting all polite as she told them her name and how ‘interesting’ it will be to work together. She is almost like a child. How can she have survived all her fights when she is so small and looks so fragile and innocent? This must be some kind of act. Leilatha could not help herself and had to turn her body a little to get a better look at Bliss. She could see Bliss’s battle wounds and scars but did not understand how a girl like her could take on anyone and survive. Maybe she is one of those magic people….or maybe she has got some other secrets. Must keep an eye on her in the next battle.

Leilatha returned to her bowl of food and continued to eat noticing that another person had taken a seat on the table with their bowl of stew. He was devouring his meal like an animal but then again who would not be if they had not had a decent meal in days. And for his size he surely needs to have seconds or even thirds therefore the faster he eats the more likely there would be food still left over. It did not bother her too much because her body had already adjusted to having not much food and therefore she would not have to eat so much to be full.

It did not take long for someone else to speak which aggravated her a bit, and she tossed her spoon onto the table with frustration. Can’t I eat in peace. It was one of the healers who said we had company arriving. And like most conversation someone had to reply and it was Mr Stare. Since she did not know the name of the healer who was staring at her earlier she decided to just call him Mr Stare. Leilatha picked up her spoon again, this time having a much tighter grip on it then before as she scooped up some stew. Please let this be a dream. Do not make me have to deal with a bunch of babbler mouths.

Sean finished his stew and let out a belch as he wiped the broth off of his mouth. The food was about as good as the rushed meals his clan had made, so the quality mattered little to him, but couldn't help but notice some of the others weren't as enthusiastic about their meal as he was.

"Go on, eat. Make strong like Sean" He said, knowing he probably butchered the words, but the others should still get the gist of what he said. He laughed at himself and looked about at the others, then realized he had yet to introduce himself. He slapped his chest and stood up, puffing himself up to seem as large as possible.

"I Sean of Hollifield Tribe! I kill bear with fists!" He said, nearly yelling it. Normally, this would have been responded to with cheers and roars of approval, then another would stand and make another such introduction. When this didn't occur, Sean pointed to Bliss, mostly because he was curious why she was counted amongst the warriors, and maintained the same tone as earlier as he asked "You! Who you are? What you kill?". He planned on asking this of everyone should they not join in... Granted it was a good way of seeing how confident one was with their strength in battle as well as knowing the toughest foe they'd defeated, which is all Sean's clan really cared about if you were a man. If anyone else had mumbled anything during his boasts and shouting, he could not hear them...

Dara followed the other’s example by taking a bowlful for himself, though the meal wasn’t entirely a peaceful one as a few others displayed that they were the more enthusiastic of the bunch. This earned a small smile from him, at someone was making the best of things. The girl whom called herself Bliss introduced herself in a rather bubbly out way, uncharacteristic in this kind of life. One of their healers mentioned something about company arriving but it was somewhat muttered under his breathe so Dara didn’t pay too much attention. The Nordic man introduced himself in an outburst that was laid think with a heavy accent which the dragonborn descendant recognized, shouting “Hollifield Tribe!” confirmed what language was his native one; a draconic dialect. Fortunately Dara had been taught some by his living ancestors.

The man rose, made his way to Sean and struggled a bit to find the right words, but eventually did so, “Uh, vi…vi…Vinult thurirl, dout dastudr geou qe kashora.” Hail friend, your strength will be appreciated. Dara recognized right away that forming bonds now, as formal as they may be, was better than fighting alongside complete strangers who knew nothing of what the others would do. Speaking to the barbarian in his own tongue was probably a decisive move, fortunate that their culture has assimilated parts of the Dragonborns’ in centuries past.

He said to the rest, “Our friend here is a little…blunt, but he has the right idea, if we’re going to do anything together we should at least know our names and skills.” He then gestured to Bliss, “I believe you already introduced yourself Bliss.” Dara returned to a neutral stance and said, “As for me my full name is Darastrix Dastudr, but just call me Dara; I specialize in long swords and axes. Now none of you have to give their life story if you don’t want to, a name and skill set is fine.”

Rowan spent no time collecting a bowl of stew and finding a seat, somewhat seperated from his more confident teammates. It unnerved him slightly to think that the others were so calm and resolute in their own abilites and yet he himself was still feeling quite nervous. He spooned the stew slowly, bit by bit into his mouth as he listend and watched the others carefully. After all, he wanted to learn his teammates mannerisms as soon as possible. It would be nearly essential for him to know how they act when in combat together, this much he could piece together. Though most of what he heard seemed irrelevant, like the sound of a spoon being banged on a table and the jumbled words of 'Sean', one of his new teammates. He made quick glances at the healers that he hoped to avoid visiting later, one in particular caught his interest. A girl who seemed completely unfit for this place, but he brushed the idea away. Currently, he needed to understand his teammates.

His thoughts raced wildly. I see. So there's Sean, the spoon-throwing Miss, Dara who specializes in swords and axes, and... He turned to look at the remaining warriors he would soon be fighting alongside. One, a young woman, seemed not much older than himself and the other... The masked man. Rowan didn't know what to make of him. After all, the person hadn't spoken a word to any of the others. Then again, Rowan hadn't said much either. With a slight sigh, he resigned his silent observation and decided it was time he spoke once more. "Rowan." He began, with a slight nod towards the others. "I suppose you could say I specialize in quick striking and footwork. If I had to give you my best weapon, I'd say it's the broadsword." He finished, blinking his cold stare. "It's nice to meet you all."

Bliss looked around at the busy faces, most seemed to be trouble. She sighed softly, knowing that it wasn't exactly the best situation to be in but it wasn't like any of them had much of a choice in the matter. They might as well make it as pleasant as possible, Bliss didn't exactly want to die in an unpleasant mood, she might as try and make the time she had left and make it as pleasant as possible. Now with the new possibility of making friends that had just arose, well, it was a rather good deal. She loved the company of another person and it had been way too lonely fighting alone, the concept of someone watching her back always made her feel a lot more safe. Not to mention that their chance of survival practically skyrocketed with now 5 other people in the team, and apparently some of the best too from what she had overheard. And peering around the room her burst of confidence was proven right. If these people were her teammates, all of their chances of survival would soar and if they really did become popular enough, they might be given the chance to leave. She grinned from her optimistic thoughts and approached the pot of food, having waited for the crowd to clear out a bit before she grabbed a bowl full along with a spoon and went to sit near the main crowd of people, taking a few bites.

Her thoughts were slightly interrupted by the large man, whose name now she had learnt to be Sean, announcing that he killed bears with his bare hands. Bliss couldn't help to giggle quietly, immediately liking the big guy. If she were to make friends here, and hopefully she would with everyone because in her mind she was already great friends with all of them, Sean was definitely one she wanted to have. She grinned at him, his comment making people listen to him, which made her happy because now people were starting to speak. It had peaked at their interest, the possibility of finding the fighting skills of their teammates was probably the most important thing that they could learn about each other. The guy with had the red scales on his arm was next to speak up, his name being Dara and he apparently specialized with long swords and axes. She nodded her head along with the statement, she saw that guy wielding an axe just about as she saw Sean handling a some dangerous weapon with a massive weight, it just seemed to support how they both looked. The next warrior to stand was the guy she had thought to look rather young, but she knew not to judge on looks. And she was right, he probably fought in the same manor she did, rely on the others opponents heavy footing against their swiftness and seeing as how their techniques were rather uncommon, not a lot of people acknowledged it and just put them off as useless. Although she frowned a bit at his rather formal and cold tone, was something bothering him?

She shrugged the thought off and grinned at all of the others once more, even though most of them acted rather formally, she suspected that she was surrounded by good people. Well, as good as you could be when you killed people so you could live yourself. "Well, like Dara said, you guys already know my name's Bliss. And for you Sean, I kill the people they tell me to kill in the arena." She shrugged, like it really wasn't a big deal, although the words did bother her to say. She hated killing, even if it were to let herself live, it made her nothing better than a murdered really. "Unfortunately though, I’ve yet to kill a bear, especially with my bare hands, sorry Sean. And I kick ass with daggers, preferably twin ones. They're always great fun to fight with," She winked as she told them light heartedly, taking another bite of the stew, noticing how good it actually was. The treatment was better here too, a lot better than the smaller arenas that she had been used to.

The small grin on her face still lingered, trying to increase the energy of the room. It seemed she was in a rather dull and unhappy atmosphere, which didn't surprise her, but she still didn't enjoy it. She dislikes seeing others in such a sad mood, in made her mood falter slightly. Her gaze turned to the other girl in her team along with the masked guy, who had still yet to speak. Her gaze also turned to the three healers who weren't speaking much as her gaze lingered on each of them. Those would be the people inwardly saving her life, which she was grateful for. Her last healer had been a bit of a dick though and she hoped that these three would be a lot nicer, not that you really had to be nice to the dying person, just heal their wounds. Although that didn't snuff that flame of hope she was feeling and just contniued to eat, absentmindedly scratching at one of her wounds.

William was a little startled when someone actually responded to him. More often than not he was ignored outside of the arena, unless they knew what he was hiding, then they deliberately kept away from him. Or they just didn't like him. Either way, he paused in eating his stew to speak further to the man, but then a large man who looked as if he should he carrying a large tree limb with him, rose and began to speak, rather badly. He was obviously from a different land, but William understood him well enough. The other one who spoke to him, in some other language, made more sense bet something about him was off. He wasn't fully human, but then again neither was William, and so he soon forgot about this as others began to speak.

Between the one who asked to be called Dara, and the man named Rowan, William finally spoke.

"I can hear horses approaching," he says quietly, staring down into his bowl, moving around a chunk of meat with his spoon, "I don't know what's going on, but I think they're bringing something here..." Pausing, he listens to the others a bit longer, trying to decide if it would really mean anything for him to speak up. From what he understood of things, he wasn't going to be doing much, mostly keeping house except for before and after fights, "You can call me...Fangs..."

Kelyren twitched as Sean introduced himself, he watched the large warrior state his name, tribe, and profession. Killing bears with his fists? Sean certainly looked like he was capable of it, but Kelyren found himself grinning at the spectacle. Announcing to a bunch of strangers that you could kill bears with your fists was quite a way to break the ice...

He turned his attention to the others as they introduced himself, taking note of their appearances and names, working on etching them into his memory so that he could recognize them easier. He was already taking a liking to the outgoing gladiator girl - Bliss, according to what she said. Odd name to give a warrior.

She's a lot friendlier than the other gladiators... though I bet she's just as dangerous as the rest of them. He blinked when she looked at him, but thankfully "Fang" replied to his question, giving him a good opportunity (and excuse) to break eye contact with Bliss.

"Horses, huh." Kelyren looked down at his empty bowl of food and glanced over at the pot, debating whether or not he should grab a second helping. "Maybe they're some rich visitors coming to watch a match. Or maybe you're right and they're bringing something here. Either way, I don't mind as long as I don't have to deal with 'em." He shrugged and gave the group a small grin. "My name's Kelyren, by the way. I'm one of the lucky people who gets to patch everyone up after the fun's over."

Sean smiled as the others began to speak, glad that they were finally getting into the spirit of things. He had begun to get the impression that the others weren't excited about fighting. He'd long since thought the men who had captured him to be fools, allowing him to train and kill and sticking him in chains around others who acted like this was a punishment. He had been having a blast the years he'd been in the arena as a single combatant, taking the opportunity to get stronger and attempt to locate the others of his clan. He'd yet to so far, which only made him feel stronger.

He was the only one so far to survive.

Then something happened that threw him for a loop... one of the others, one that looked like he had scales on his arms, spoke to Sean in his clan's language. Sean looked at him with a perplexed look on his face, then poked him in the head a few times as though studying him.

"wux tir ti vorq hefoc ir di sia clan... svanoa tir wux ukris hefoc astahi?" You do not look like one of my clan... How do you talk like them He asked, then began laughing as he swung his arm around Dara's neck and pulled him into a headlock, which was the closest Sean ever got to hugging someone.

"thric selgtarn, dout ivah xurwkic ve gneshgnesh vur wux relgra ve versvesh! wux re sia ressan jaka!" No matter, your voice makes me laugh and you called me strong! You are my ally now! He yelled before releasing Dara from his grip and continued his laugh, turning to Bliss as she answered his earlier question.

"Dagger? What those? And why two? One broken?" he asked, again donning a perplexed face. His clan had encountered daggers before, but had been in the woods for most of Sean's life and so he had never seen one in person, and only knew it by the name from his own tongue: Beetnekil. or "eating sword" as they often mistook it for an eating utensil for carving meat. Being caught up in his thoughts, Sean mostly ignored the conversation about horses as no one had said anything about eating them and knew better than to think they would be riding them, as well as William's and Kelyren's introductions. His attention span was as short as he was big...

Leilatha was astonished to hear the largest man in the group to speak she surely thought he would be too busy stuffing his face. She was also surprised that he could not speak their language fluently. Well at least his name is easy to pronounce. A number of introductions followed after that which she decided to pay attention since they weren’t very long and it would be very helpful to know their skills in order to find their weakness. You never know, teammates have turned on each other before.

The next was a gladiator who appeared to know the language Sean spoke. This could be a problem. They are sure going to form a bond with each other with this language and therefore would be able to easily plot against me and any of the others without us knowing. She frowned a little before listening on, the gladiator continued saying his name was Dara and that he specializes in long swords and axes. Interesting. Next came someone she had not yet taken the time to fully analyse, he stated his name was Rowan and like the Bliss girl seemed rather small in size. Which she knew was an advantage for him when he spoke about being quick on his feet and his weapon of choice being broadsword. He also seemed to have a rather gloomy presents around him which she liked since she wasn’t much of a talker either.

The other female gladiator spoke again in the same cheerful tone as before. Leilatha decided to block most of her voice out and only take note of the important parts as she finished off her stew. Bliss uttered that she was skilled with daggers which would make her useful for close combat.

She then heard the faint voice of the healer from earlier saying how he could hear horses approaching. His right. Leilatha blocked out all other noises and just listened out for horse hoofs and finally heard them. It was not just one horse but a couple, and they were pulling something heavy. She returned her attention to the healer just in time to hear him say that his name was Fang. Mr Stare was next; he came up with some ideas of what might be getting brought to their training arena before introducing himself as Kelyren. Let’s hope these boys are as good with their hands and patching up skills as they are in talking. She smirked to herself.

There was silence for a moment as she noticed only a few people where left to make introductions and she was one of them. Great! Let’s just get it over and done with. She pushed the bowl away from herself and stayed seated in her chair. “I am Leilatha…and my weapon of choice would be small blades,” she spoke hard-heartedly without making eye contact with anyone. She could have easily told them some of her other skills but decided not to, since most of them were larger and stronger than her she was not about to give them even more of an upper-hand to beat her.