By God, does someone actually read it then? *dies of shock*
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Lar had paused at a massive door, easily twice a soldier slig’s height; with a grunt he heaved on the lever set into the stone alongside, and with a rattling clatter of chains and weights a self-opening mechanism creaked the door open. Light spilled out into the dank corridor and made the two youngsters squint. Accompanying the light was a low grumbling sound, which it took them a second or two to realise was the distant sound of an overexcited crowd; Jan shivered, involuntarily.
Lar poked his rifle into Jan’s spine, not too hard but enough to get the point across, and walked them through the door and into a large antechamber. There was a cluster of individuals in there; two mudokons, five sligs and a hybrid creature – Gladiators, Aura guessed - all apparently waiting for the call to go out into the ring.
They were all rough looking creatures, even the mudokons, hardened and battle-scarred, grim-faced. One of the mudokons and one of the sligs were sparring; the slig looked quite old, and the scars suggested he’d fought for must of his life. He was lacking two tentacles, one eye was covered by a black patch, and a finger was missing from his left hand. The mudokon was a lot younger, and a lot more undamaged, although his bright feathers were scraggly. Both wore protective armour; the mud’s was black and silver, whereas the slig’s was a rich, burnished gold and soft brown.
No-one had seen the two newcomers yet, apparently, all more interested in watching the two creatures spar, which gave Lar time to fetch the bundle of keys he wanted. He was just going back to them when-
“F*ck!” The exclamation startled both the young prisoners; the mudokon sparring with the old slig had leaped back away from him. “Sh*t, you bastard…! You just cut my f*cking finger off…!”
The slig laughed; an ugly grating sound. “C’mere, then, and I’ll even yer up a bit…” he said, grinning, advancing on the mudokon.
The youngster wisely retreated away from him, grumbling, to clean his mutilated hand up. “You come any f*cking closer and I’ll cut some of your bits and pieces off,” he threatened.
There was a ripple of amusement from the others, as though they knew he was bluffing.
“The idea,” a soft, musical voice intruded, sounding oddly out of place, “Is to do that in the Ring, Yax. You won’t get paid for that.”
“Ah, shut yer trap, mongrel,” Yax replied, scornfully, switching his attention from the mud to the hybrid, who was perched atop a cupboard, a long naginata in his elegant hands, drawing figure-of-eights with the tip.
Then noticed Jan and Aura, apparently for the first time. “Well well, what have we got here?” he asked, in a predatory-soft voice, advancing on them, lazily.
Aura gave a squeak of fear and hid behind Jan’s ankles, tucking her nose down and trying to look small. Jan bit his lip and squared his shoulders – It’s only a slig, it’s only a slig, maybe a damned ugly one, but it’s just a slig…
“Eh, sir?” Lar cut in, evenly. “I got orders to take ‘em down to cells…”
“Who’s orders?” the older creature asked, coldly.
“From Parink; y’can ask him if yer don’ believe me…”
“Any more cheek from yer, Sunshine, an’ yer goin’ out there to have a look at yer guts,” Yax threatened, his voice an ugly snarl, but at a harsh clatter of sound from the bell in the corner of the room he turned away. “All right, take ‘em…” he snapped, retrieving a scabbard off the table in the corner. “C’mon Gorgeous, that’s our cue…”
The hybrid dropped down off his cupboard and glared. “Don’t call me that…”
Yax sniggered and vanished off out of a door, with the others in tow…
Lar looked genuinely relieved at being able to get out of the little antechamber. “Watch yer step wi’ that one…” he warned, clattering off down the corridor; Jan had to trot to keep up with him, so was carrying Aura. “He don’ just bluff like a lot of sligs do, he means it… An’ the mongrel, too, they’re bitter rivals, so watch yer don’ get between ‘em…”
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