Tales From a Thousand Worlds

They ran far from the town, the wounded carried with them or aided. Across the plains, the burning of the gladiator pit could be seen from afar, a vast pillar of smoke and fire that raged unchecked, threatening to engulf the town.

Follow this link for Part Eight of the Pit

Elad stepped out of the courtyard into the street beyond, looking either direction along it. The crowds were gone now, apart from a few who lay sprawled on the ground, trampled during the panicked stampede. The fires about his hand were flickering, dying out. The rage that sustained them was bleeding away. Elad concentrated, willing the fires back to life, feeding them with all the anger and bitterness he could muster from his soul, at the state of the world, of loss and regret and despair. Sweat beaded across his brow at the effort.

Follow this link for Part Seven of the Pit

Nhaqosa had watched as Elad landed in the pavilion, cutting down first the lord and then his guards. The sheer audacity of the attack had amazed him, but Elad’s survival could no longer be a concern of his. He retrieved his maul and strode back towards the gates that led into the caverns beneath the pits. The gates were remarkably flimsy wooden affairs. Nhaqosa took his maul to them, splintering wood under the force of his blow. A second strike smashed through. Nhaqosa kicked the remnants out of the way, seeing two guards waiting on the other side, nervously facing him.

Follow this link for Part Six of the Pit

The difficulty would not lie in throwing the human, Nhaqosa reasoned, but what would happen beyond that. There would be no leniency shown, yet the human, Elad, seemed unconcerned by that. Chances of success were slim at best, yet the weariness of days uncounted fighting in the pits had settled upon his soul. Dispatching the beast had torn at his heart, for it had been an innocent, mindless creature, a victim as much as he. Better to die in a futile attempt to escape than to live on and further sully his soul.

Follow this link for Part Five of the Pit

When the Beast, Nhaqosa had first spoken, it had surprised Elad. He had not expected words from such an unlikely looking a creature; a minotaur, that had been the word Nhaqosa had used for himself. Yet as they spoke, Elad had sensed something in Nhaqosa, a strength and nobility of character not yet tainted by the pits, or by the dying world that they lived in.

Follow this link for Part Four of the Pit

Nhaqosa studied the man sent to battle him as the pair slowly, cautiously circled each other, crouched down with their weapons ready. A dark haired man, his skin was pale though, unlike those who lived in the region that Nhaqosa found himself in. A northerner then, which made him a long way from home. Not as far as Nhaqosa himself, but far enough.

Follow this link for Part Three of the Pit

Elad staggered out into the pits, unceremoniously shoved through the gates by burly guards. Moments later a sword flew out to land at his feet, one notched by use and the hilt still damp from blood. The burning sun hammered down from a cloudless sky, glaring off sand marred with crimson pools of blood. His head throbbed dully. Fingers probed at the lump at the side of his head that caused it. He tried to swallow but could not, his throat too tight from lack of water and his lips cracked.

Follow this link for Part Two of The Pit

  The crowd screamed, baying for blood, for death, animalistic in their fervour. Their cries reverberated around the gladiatorial pit, rising to fever pitch as man and beast fought below. Fought and often died.

Follow this link for Part One of The Pit