The Arena

Cordinus Valaron walked into the Arena with the air of a man in charge. In fact, he was the man in charge. Well, at least as much in charge as a man could be on an equal Council. But at least for today, he was the man to go to should there be anything amiss.

He looked up at the bleachers which surrounded him in a circular fashion. Nothing like the pitted stadium he was standing in at the moment had ever been built before, much less been used for such an auspicious event as this! He grinned and ran his tongue over his teeth in a preportory manner.

A hunch backed assistant came crawling up to him and he grinned even wider as he knew that this would be good news. However, he still had to act the part of the man in charge and so he set an enormous frown apon his brow before the hunch back had the presience to look up.

"Counciler, the Warriors are beginning to round up. We have some amazing ability here!" the little man, named Norkin with fuzzy hair that peeked out of a strange top hat grinned in excitement. He had never worked this closely to a Councilor before. Well truth to tell, there never had been an Arena Council before a year ago when preparations for this week's tournament had begun.

"Good! Good!" boomed Cordinus and seated himself down on the raised dias that had been set in the middle of the pit. Banners of varying sizes and dazzling colours were set in a wide semi circle to his back and he waved at Norkin to bring in the first warriors.

This would be the place they first signed up for the tournament. Over night the Arena Council would pour over the information that Cordinus had gathered and make appropriate matches and then tomorrow the fighting would begin! A more blood thirsty sport than this had yet to be discovered.

As the warriors were each lead up to his table, Cordinus would shift some papers around and re-ink his quill before looking up and asking, "So, name, race, abilities and any magic. Weapons too should you have them."

Forgall MacFionn approached the signup table, a huge bear of a warrior, towering over many of the other people milling around the area.

"I am Forgall MacFionn, of the Riada." He said, tapping his horns,

"I have come to fight." he continued, his deep voice like a bellow even though he was merely speaking.

"I bear the Spear of Luagh." he said brandishing the mighty halberd that he carried in his right hand.

"I carry also the Caladbolg" he drew the mighty sword from its place on his hip.

"And the Dragon Shield" he said, a tattoo on his arm glowing and a large bladed shield formed on his left arm.

"It is my honour to know the secret arts, The Dancing Spear of Luagh, the Riven strike of Cernus, the feat of the War-Bear, the Archdragon strike, and the Thundering War-cry" he said, assuming they didnt want him to demonstrate his feats now.

"Will there be anything else, sir.

Aurelius tred lightly through the Arena, hardly making a sound save the light brushing of his red cloak across the ground. The brightly colored garment cascaded down the man’s tall form, leaving whatever weapons or armor he wore hidden. Save one piece. A helm decorated with a pair of horns hid his face, and any reaction he had to his surroundings.

As he reached the table, the head gear was removed, light reflecting off of the red metal as he tucked the helm in the crook of his arm. Dark hair fell to shade his features that seemed almost ageless. Shadows clung to him despite the time of day, unnaturally darkening his countenance as he came to loom over the sign-up table with a distinctive air of authority.
A sideways glance was given to the large warrior he’d sided up to, not bothering to stand behind the man as if in line. A nod was given, a smirk pulling at his thin lips as he took in the Riada. He was impressive to say the least, giving Aurelius hope that his contest would indeed be worth his time and efforts. The moment the last words left MacFionn’s lips he was interrupted, the Demon giving the Arena Council member no time to answer as he gave his own information.

A gloved hand rested on the tabletop, the tall man leaning forward as dark tresses swung forward, piercing gold-tinted eyes meeting those of Cordinus Valaron.

“My name is Aurelius, Zeleti’L of the highest order. That would be Demon in your insipid language.” He snorted before continuing.

“I have come to join your little game bringing only my natural talents and this, the Nand’L ith Ardor’Ta”

His free hand disappeared beneath the red folds of fabric, producing a set of daggers he lay out for the man to see. The pair of weapons was joined at the base of the hilt by a lengthy bit of chain. To demonstrate further, the man leaned back and removed one of his gloves, using one of the presented daggers to quickly slice on of the reddened fingertips. This produced a small trickle of blood, falling to stain the table top…or not. Instead the droplets seemed to draw together, forming a small, almost solid seeming orb for Valaron’s viewing pleasure.

“I hope I do not have to perform for you any further…you may let your imagination dream up the possibilities of my ability…what you guess is un-doubtly accurate.”

The leather glove was replaced, the twin daggers hung back at his right side as he’d spoken his piece, finally leaving room for the Councilman to speak. The ball of blood seemed to melt, deconstructing to a mere puddle of such on the sign-up table as was natural.

The first to come was a massive beast of a warrior. Of course, Cordinus wasn't all that impressed, himself of slight stature but what he considered to be of larger intellect. He simply smiled wanly, recorded all that needed to be recorded and asked the warrior to hand his weapons and armour to an assistant that stood ready. These assistants, he explained, would be with the warriors through out the tournament and were there mainly to ensure that no changes were made to any equipment, wether sanctioned by the wearer or not.

It was just a little further rule they had.

Then, dismissing the man that could possibly break his leg with one finger, he importantly waved the next warrior through.

This one was also a beast of a man, though not in the literal sense of the first. He was much more refined, though not any less smaller in stature than the first. He drawled out an insolent spiel about himself and then went on to demonstrate some of his other talents.

Cordinus pursed his lips and watched the blood splatter onto the neatly arranged desk at his fore. He took a sidelong look at the demon then scribbled up a small, almost ineligable note onto the demon's entry papers and then assigned him his own assistant, as per the new rules.

He gave a few special instructions to the boy and then nodded his dismissal.

"Next!" he called.

Aurelius caught wind of the Councilor’s bland expression and disdain of his person. Strangling the old codger was tempting…but. He might as well wait for the contest be over first. Otherwise this whole venture would be a waste of his time. He also got the feeling that the beast of a man at his side would go all heroic-and such wasn’t at all appealing at the moment.

As the young man who was to be his ‘assistant’ appeared, the horned red helm he’d cradled was tossed carelessly in the squire’s direction, despite the fact that the decorations of the piece of armor could easily impale the poor boy if not caught correctly. Aurelius turned sharply on his heel, the crimson cloak swirling about his form as he moved away from the sign-up table, a single wave of his gloved hand beckoning the young man to follow.

He moved slow enough for the assistant to walk at his side, gold eyes brimming with curiosity and perhaps a bit of mischief taking in the lad who was to serve him throughout these games.

“Have you a name? The shady man gave a friendly grin to his new charge, genuinely so. Though, the appearance of elongated canines may have taken away from his apparent sociability.

The boy that moved at Aurelius' side was of a smaller build than boys his age. He was slender with a tussle of mousy brown hair on his head. His arms were wiry and strong and he strode with a sure footing that told that he knew his place in the world.

He carried the helmet with practiced ease, having already assessed its danger levels. He knew that this warrior at his side was nothing like the lords he had served in the past and he was mindful of the instructions given to him regarding the demon.

"I am Squire Alan," he spoke with a deeper baritone voice, betraying his years. It seemed that he had already hit puberty and was a few years older. Perhaps fifteen? Sixteen? Old enough to know his duties and perform them efficiently, though his size belied his age.

He didn't flinch from the gaze or teeth of the demon. He could not pretend that he was un-afraid, but he took it in his stride. He had had hard masters in the past and the Baron particularily had not been the finest of men. "I am protected under the Arena Council's laws. I am not to be harmed in any way, unless you will forfeit the Tournament," he informed the grinning devil. But he could not hide the slight quiver in his voice, no matter how strongly he took to his step.

"Well then Squire Alan, I am Aurelius..." He moved to pat the boy on the back once, rather father-like in nature as the smile remained. "And it is time to forget all those dreadful bedtime stories you've been told of my kind."

Though the dark man's stride could easily leave the young boy in the dust he was careful to walk at a speed with which his new charge could keep up, his gold eyes trained on Alan as if he was the most important person in the Arena. "I can assure I didn't come to stir up trouble...and I certainly wouldn't harm someone as promising as yourself. No, my kind appreciates potential when they see it." He nodded once, rubbing his gloved hands together as he faced forward.

"Tell me, just what did that elderly man have to say about your friend Aurelius?

Alan looked up, surprise written clearly on his features. For a moment, boyish confusement showed in his eyes, "Potential?" he asked, a little dazed.

Then Aurelius went on with his questioning and Alan was forced to keep up, "He didn't tell me much. He couldn't really. He wasn't sure exactly what you could do, but he said that I should remain honest with you and tread carefully."

The Arena councilors were well aware of the power and potential for chaos that they had in their hands. The Tournament was something that had kept the peace for the two years before the actual event and now that it was happening... they could only hope for the best.

Still, they could not be too careful.