In today's piece we witness the birth of a legend. Davis sheds some light on the infamous demon fights that are now a tradition during the Festival of the Long Night. But more importantly we meet Farulazar, a dwarf gladiator who plays a very important role in Skein of Shadows.
"And in this corner: weighing in at 12 stone, armed with a gladius nearly as sharp as his tongue, a hero from Crown's streets, Farulazar the Fiend Fighter!"
The room was dark. It smelled of dank, mildewed stone, stale sweat, and blood. The muffled sounds of an uncertain crowd fought their way through heavy wooden doors as the creature was led through the doors and into the arena. Five years after the end of the Demon Scourge, the crowd was still hungry for blood and would be satisfied only when this one was added to the mix. They did not care who dispensed the coup-de-gras, as long as it was bloody.
Farulazar strapped on his braces and grinned at the sound of the crowd. He had already made a small name for himself in the pits fighting regular gladiators. Sure, there were others better known, with longer records and many followers. The overly-tall humans and one or two elves had their fans, but none of them would last as long as he. The humans were good for no more than ten or twenty years while the elves seemed too flighty to keep up with such grim business, but a dwarf could endure longer than either. And he could endure longer than many of his kin.
Picking up his gladius, a blade forged by his father for him to use during the Demon Scourge, when he first gained a taste for killing such things, he snatched his shield and stepped to the door. While he had shown his abilities in the pits against mundane opponents, and even killed a few, he had not been matched to a demon in the fighting pit. But then, nobody had. This was the first of its kind.
Two months earlier, the demon had been found conspiring with the strange new denizens of the sewers who called themselves saruulans. Standard practice in Crown had been a very swift execution, but the promoters of this celebration had convinced the powers that a public execution to be held during the Long Night celebration would serve to remind the citizens of the threat posed by those demons who still remained hiding in Crown. It would also make the Long Night even more memorable.
The Crown Watch had allowed the demon to be taken for the public execution, though rumors mentioned the Queen's unhappiness with the decision. She had not expressly forbidden the act, though, and so all had been planned. What the Watch did not know at the time, and what many were a bit disquieted about now, was that the execution would be in the form of an arena combat between the demon and one of the greatest fighters in Crown.
His name had been Traegin the Bright, hero of the Scourge, a human who had become rather famous for his exploits during the Scourge. Though Farulazar had known several who actually accomplished more during those dark years, he had figured Traegin was the better showman. Besides, those who really did the hard work, who fought on bravely until the ethereans appeared, did not have the stomach for such dirty work these days. They preferred their fights to be more "noble."
The week before, though, Traegin had fallen from a bridge in the mud-flats and broken his neck. He was still in the Moontower and though Farulazar did not know for sure, he figured the great warrior would spend the rest of his life having his feces wiped from his bottom by others. His loss. Better still, it opened a slot into which Farulazar Stonewright stepped. Though there were some others who protested, he was the only one in the pits who actually had killed demons during the Scourge. Unwilling to take a chance that the demon would actually win, the promoters all agreed that one who had proven himself during the scourge would be best.
And so he found himself in the comfortable darkness preparing for a fight. This time it would not be some street-brawler who fancied himself a pit fighter. It would be a demon, a fiend named Izruklath. Tonight would be its last in Crown. Clapping his short sword against his shield, the dwarf grinned wickedly and reached for the door. As he prepared to march down that hall to the fame and glory that awaited him, thought to himself:
Faster than quicksilver, harder than stone, I am The Fiend Fighter!
