Gestalted Gladiators IC

[Silverphantasm]

The dull roar of the crowd quieted as the group in front of you was led out, their weapons gleaming, and the sandy ground shifting slightly before bearing the weight of 8 contestants. Only 4 could come back, and that was if one side was decidedly better. The gate shut as the last figure passed beneath it and into the arena beyond, the guards roughly jammed the butts of their weapons against your back indicating that you needed to move forward. A blubbery dwarf stood just to side of the gates, his sausage like hands held a leather book and quill. He glanced at each of you then ran his finger down a page in the book, "Well any bets t'day you scum?" His thick drawling accent was one associated with rich nobility turned poverty, "Remember, max of 3000 gold pieces." He smelt of corpses and coins, the smell of iron from blood mixed with the silver and gold of coin.

The crowd outside was cheering, it sounded as though the match would be over soon, and theirs would next, it would be their first fight on a second day, all previous engagements had been less "worthy" and as such merited the trivial first day combat. They still didn't have any kind of fame or reputation, hell, they'd were barely a team, 4 members who had been thrown together and told to fight and die with each other, but they'd worked well the last 4 months, fighting fighting once each month. The noise from the arena suddenly climbed, the pudgy dwarf called out "Last Chance! Place your bets."