Argonian tales of Skyrim vol. 3: Imperial sport.

[AngryMage]

Chapter 1

A female Argonian is being walked through grey stone halls by a couple of imperials and she is mumbling to herself. "Dammit Makera. How could you get yourself in such a bad situation. I really shouldn't of went into that castle. I knew that Imperials have been oppressing us for years now, and that by now any Argonian is seen as a threat to their security. They just want supremacy over everyone, and don't care who's back they have to stomp over to get it." The two guards stop and open a large metal door to a room where a single Redguard sits, and shove her in. "New meat huh? I hope you don't expect to go free. Those Imperials will just laugh if you ask, and then beat you with branding irons." The female is trying to piece toghether the situation, but she doesn't even know where she is. "I'm Louis, and this is the Imperial colosseum. This is where they take their slaves, outlaws, and captured spies. They force you to fight, and won't let you leave unless it's in a body bag. What's your name lizard?" The Argonian looks at the floor for a second to piece the information together, then looks the Redguard in the eyes. "I am Makera. I was knocked out when I tried to step inside one of their castles. Also, why does my arm hurt? It's been sore since I woke up." She lifts the sleeve of her shirt to find an elaborate burn on her arm. "Ah. Looks like you're on my team. When they knocked you out, they branded you with a symbol to tell which team you'd be on. You are on team Ternarton, or for short my team. Come on, the rest of the guys will want to meet you." Louis opens the large stone double doors behind him and walks with Makera through a room where both teams are training to compete. "This is the rival team. Team Almdictus. They are a bunch of Elves led by that High Elf in violet robes. His name is Delcano Elmdart, he's a Battlemage, and a damn good one to boot. I've seen him blow heads of people with fireballs, and his lieutenant, Felmer Yorsalv. A dirty kissass Dark Elf who swings around a warhammer, but he doesn't even know how to use it. Their pride lies in that Wood Elf over there, his name is Gelmenan. Doesn't talk much, but for him that's a good thing while he sneaks around pillars stalking you, and lining up an arrow for the killing shot. Don't get me wrong, we have great warriors on this team. I am the kind of guy who swings a Battleaxe like a pro.When I want someone dead, they will dye. Then there is Groshkul. He's that hefty Orc over there with the large mace. Don't get on his bad side, or kiss your head goodbye. Then there is Ferel God-Heart. He's the Nord. He doesn't really like people, but he despises the Imperials. Seeing how imperials treat your kind, I think you should have something to talk about. The Orc by the forge us Rekshoken, and you should go speak with him. He'll forge you some armor, and weapons, but if that's not enough, then go to Leran. She'll enchant some of your gear, but don't expect it to be permanent. She sells soul gems, so you should be able to keep them from fading if you are smart. Also don't think you'll get a knife that rips souls out of people, then makes them explode." Makera slowly makes her way to the forge, looks at the Orc operating it. "Well, what kind of armor do you want? Which weapons too." The Argonian looks down and says exactly what she wants."Steel plate. I want there to be plates around the arms and legs, and I don't want a helmet." The Orc is fairly surprised, but doesn't question her. "Full steel plate, No helmet coming right up."

 

[AngryMage]

Chapter 2

It's a normal morning at the arena, and contestants are scurrying around to get suited up in case they are being sent out today. All but one, Makera, who was still fast asleep on her stone bed. Until Groshkul decided to come over. "Hey! You may be new, but no one gets to sleep in here!" He is shouting at her with all of the air in his lungs. She gets up, fixes her spine, gets her armor on, and goes to breakfast. She gets Seared Slaughter fish, meat stew, and ale with bonemeal sprinkled in it, the sits next to a Nord around her age. "So. Why are you here?" The Nord looks at her then back to his Skeever meat. "I was in Cyrodiil, and all I did was pick up something in a store to look at it, and was accused of stealing. Thrown into Imperial prison, left to die, and then the guards came. I thought they were going to take me to the headsman, but they brought me on one of their ships, branded me, and here I am as a fighter on this large island far off from Tamriel." Makera starts to eat her Slaughter fish, then she realizes that he said they are on an island. "Can you tell me about this island we are on and why we're here?" He looks back to her. He has charred Chaurus meat in his mouth that he's chewing, and he swallows it to be able to speak. " First, My name is Renolf Sjöberg, and this is insula iustitiae, this is where Imperial slaves and prisoners are sent to kill each other, so those bastards don't have to. It may be nice in here, but the sun is harsh on this island, and you have to learn to live with discomfort. My time in prison got me used to discomfort, but as a Nord I can't stand heat. Now, what would your name be?" She is interested about this island, and is anticipating her first sight of the island because she was unconscious while being brought in side. "I am Makera, and I'm here for trying to enter an Imperial castle, but they knocked me out, and I tend to stay in that state for days, so I haven't gotten a chance to see the island. Could you tell me more about it?" Before Renolf can responda group of Imperials burst in. "Renolf Sjöberg and Makera, you have been chosen to fight in a two-on-two battle. Come along, or we will force you to." They get up and walk between the Imperials through a long hall. "You two sure have the fight ahead of you. A Bosmer, and a Dunmer. Expect arrows and magic, and don't be surprised when you get hit by a fireball." Makera silently growls to herself, but notices they are reaching the end of the hall, and sees a weapon rack. "Choose, both of you. These will be your weapons until they break, you die, or you reach a higher rank here, but don't get too confident. Most newbies die before they reach Pugnator. You are both Novum sanguinum, and you will not get any new weapons, or armor so choose wisely." Makera grabs a spear and sword where the blades are made of ebony, and Renolf grabs an iron waraxe. "Ah, the Umbra Virga/Umbra Ore combination for you, and the Membrum Schismaticus for the Nord. Good choices for you two. Don't die though. Fortuna!" The large doors open and the sun glares in brightly, they walk out, and the door shuts behind them. Renolf looks at Makera, and then at the balcony on the far side of the arena. A rather old Imperial walks out and starts talking in dialogue they didn't understand. "Salve sumus hic ad vigilate entia pugna, et in vicissim adducam cultura ad terram. Hodie quattuor decertantes in in collosseum enim a duo in duo proelio, et creare in principio ipsum ut gladiatorum. Autem, fiat pugna incipe!" The opponents walk out, and combat begins.

 

[AngryMage]

Chapter 3

The Bosmer immediately dashes behind a pillar, and the Dunmer sets a fire rune in the center of the stadium then charges at Renolf. Makera is looking for the little Wood elf, and barely dodges an arrow that would of killed her if it hit. Renolf raises his shield to an oncoming array of fire and steel, then knocks the Dunmer back and hits him in the shoulder which does considerable damage to his armor, and cripples his casting hand. The Bosmer is annoying Makera, and when he dashes to stab at her with a knife, she hits him with the pole of her spear, smacks him with the sword's hilt, and cuts his face. She then gets in a defensive stance and starts stabbing at him, but his armor is actually holding up very well. He throws sand in her eyes before she can stab at his head, and scurries behind cover. The Dunmer is furious now and swinging at Renolf without relent l, but he blocks all of it with his shield. The the elf kicks him on his back and starts wailing away. Makera vigilantly walks around to try to lure the elf out, and nervously, the Bosmer does so, and takes a spear in just the right place to pierce his armor, and his heart. She then notices the Dunmer break Renolf's guard, so she runs and about when the elf would of killed her new acquaintance, she thrusts her spear through the elf's body, and Renolf gets up then swings at his throat, and crushing the windpipe. The crowd cheers at old man starts talking in the same weird language. "Nobis victores! Ipsi probatur sunt determinata ad superstes, et quod permanebit ad pugnam usque sunt pugiles tu duo nunc publice vocant vos gladiatorum. Quaeso, requiem vobis merui!" The two guards come and congratulate them. "Well done for your first match! Even the
Summum præpositus is impressed. You are probably wondering what he said. Basically what he said is you did well, and you have earned a chance to rest. We hope to see if you make it, because if he has faith in you, then I think you have a chance. Don't think I respect you. You're just a filthy lizard, and a low down thief." They continue onto the living quarters while talking among themselves. "Thanks. If you hadn't of done that I would be in bag right now." Makera looks at him and smiles, but is still curious of this island. They open the doors, to see the entire team there applauding their victory, and the two know that these are the people who will give them the ambition to survive. These people have faith in them, and Makera can feel in her very soul that this is her family now, and they, together, will become champions. Louis comes over to them, and sheds a tear of joy. "I knew you would make it. You two have brought great pride to Team Ternarton." Everyone is cheering, and even Ferel has something to say. "You did well. Reminds me of my first fight." The party would go on till morn, and luckily there were no fights the next day because they were all fast asleep the whole day.