Malakath - The City of Akah
The chants resounded again and again, echoing from the stands above and thundering down into the pits of the arena. They called and cheered, they hounded and begged for blood. Each of them desperate for their own need. To win a bet placed, to see a man savaged, to watch the true frailty of life. Each had their reason for being here. Each had their reason to cry out in desperation.
And all of them fell on deaf ears.
Oda's knee lurched up, slamming into the face of his opponent as he wrenched it down. A loud crack echoing out as bone shattered and blood spilled, the man within his grasp tensing, and then all at once going slag. Like a rag doll, the man fell onto the ground with a muted thud lost to the roar of the crowd. Some cheering, others shouting and calling for violence upon the man who had just won.
Fortunes won, and fortunes lost in an instant as the savage below brought the heel of his boot down upon the throat of his foe.
The crowd above fell into a chaotic mass as those who now had clashed with the have nots.
Oda cared for none of it. His head turned only briefly upward, eyes flickering through the discordant mass in search of only a single man. The Pitmaster smiled from ear to ear, the Barbarians performance exactly as had been promised. The night would be one that would be talked about for weeks, for such a display was rare even in the legendary fighting pits of Akah.
Their bargain would be kept, Oda thought, and he would get the information that he needed. Doubtless the Pitmaster would try to take something else, but he was ready to dissuade him of such a notion. The Ascendant was not here for the fighting pits, no, he was here for the man who had tried to kill his Prince. The man who was now hiding somewhere within the dark depths of Akah.
A city sprawling beneath the ancient ruins of a metropolis that had once been mighty, but whose name had long been lost to the histories. Akah was a sewer, literally, carved into a home for the violent butchers no other society in Malakath would have.
It was here that the assassin had run, here that he had thought he could hide.
Oda would dissuade him of that notion.
For a moment more the Savage lingered upon the bloody sands, then without word or gesture he turned. Moving to the wooden gate that was already beginning to raise. Men shuffling out quickly to retrieve the now corpse of his fallen foe, as the winner went to seek his prize.
"KILL HIM!"
"END IT NOW!"
"END IT NOW!"
The chants resounded again and again, echoing from the stands above and thundering down into the pits of the arena. They called and cheered, they hounded and begged for blood. Each of them desperate for their own need. To win a bet placed, to see a man savaged, to watch the true frailty of life. Each had their reason for being here. Each had their reason to cry out in desperation.
And all of them fell on deaf ears.
Oda's knee lurched up, slamming into the face of his opponent as he wrenched it down. A loud crack echoing out as bone shattered and blood spilled, the man within his grasp tensing, and then all at once going slag. Like a rag doll, the man fell onto the ground with a muted thud lost to the roar of the crowd. Some cheering, others shouting and calling for violence upon the man who had just won.
Fortunes won, and fortunes lost in an instant as the savage below brought the heel of his boot down upon the throat of his foe.
The crowd above fell into a chaotic mass as those who now had clashed with the have nots.
Oda cared for none of it. His head turned only briefly upward, eyes flickering through the discordant mass in search of only a single man. The Pitmaster smiled from ear to ear, the Barbarians performance exactly as had been promised. The night would be one that would be talked about for weeks, for such a display was rare even in the legendary fighting pits of Akah.
Their bargain would be kept, Oda thought, and he would get the information that he needed. Doubtless the Pitmaster would try to take something else, but he was ready to dissuade him of such a notion. The Ascendant was not here for the fighting pits, no, he was here for the man who had tried to kill his Prince. The man who was now hiding somewhere within the dark depths of Akah.
A city sprawling beneath the ancient ruins of a metropolis that had once been mighty, but whose name had long been lost to the histories. Akah was a sewer, literally, carved into a home for the violent butchers no other society in Malakath would have.
It was here that the assassin had run, here that he had thought he could hide.
Oda would dissuade him of that notion.
For a moment more the Savage lingered upon the bloody sands, then without word or gesture he turned. Moving to the wooden gate that was already beginning to raise. Men shuffling out quickly to retrieve the now corpse of his fallen foe, as the winner went to seek his prize.
