MEET THE GROUPS

The house was a medium-sized Norse home made of stone at the foundation and wood from the middle up. It was modest and the royal messenger guessed there may be a servant or two inside.

He took in a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Tap Tap Tap

His heart started beating fast as he picked up the sound of shuffling feet from inside. He had done this a million times already. Delivered the same lines to countless families and handed them the gold that their tragedy came with, but for some reason, It never got easier when he had to repeat it again to the next family.

He hated this aspect of his job. It paid well, but the feeling and taste it left in his mouth weren't worth any money. He sighed as the feet got closer and rearranged his face to its best poker form. Rule one of delivering bad news; Never betray any emotions when delivering bad news or any news. Rule two; always get it over with as fast as possible.

The weight of the item he was to deliver seemed to triple in weight as the door to the house opened and a beautiful woman poked her head out from inside. She looked curiously at the messenger, her eyes glancing over the bag he carried briefly before she retreated into the house.

"Do not break anything, Liz. I will be right back." Her soft but firm voice announced to her daughter, no doubt before she finally made her way into the open. With her full body this time around.

The messenger opened his mouth to deliver his famous line but she raised her arm to stop him. Her face betrayed no emotions but her eyes were already beginning to water.

"Lief never had any friends over, so I know you're no friend of his. I can see your golden castle stripe. Your face is just as my friend who lost her husband described it. Lief is gone, isn't he?" She asked the last part in a low tone that almost escaped the messenger, but he heard it anyway.

The messenger sighed and looked away from the woman. He couldn't stand to see the tears silently escaping her eyes. Her face was straight and a smile played on her lips, yet he could tell that she was hurting. Her tears said it all and her hands that were balled in fists were proof of her anger that she was trying to keep hidden.

"Yes. He's dead. I am here to deliver the news and also hand you this." The royal messenger handed her the bag containing her husband's only part authorized to leave the castle. The woman took the sack and her eyes widened in shock as she felt the round object in the sack.

Her lips quivered and all strength escaped her legs as she felt the world start running circles around her. She would have fallen if the royal messenger hadn't held unto her in time. He slowly leaned her on her front gate and started reciting the last part of his message whiles the woman's eyes stared fixedly at the covered object.

In the sack is the accumulated wages of your husband, the late Lief Ozark for this season, and the extended generosity of the King, Erlick the conqueror. All amounting to 100 gold pieces (normally, 10 gold pieces, but the Ozarks are getting more due to the princes's request). A scroll of dismissal and another one informing you of the Ozark's addition to the 'royal relief fund' which promises 1 gold piece every season. " The messenger finished his droning and immediately turned to leave.

"I'm sorry." He said with a last glance full of sympathy aimed at the woman before he hurried his way into the waiting chariot that sped away at once. Leaving behind a shocked and sobbing woman who was no doubt on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

# The Colosseum, Three Days Before The Tournament.

Preparation for the upcoming tournament was underway. The colosseum was alive with slaves who toiled under the sun doing several jobs ranging from hanging pictures of famous gladiators to waiting on said gladiators, some of whom were training by themselves in the training room whiles others sparred together.

Most of the gladiators at the colosseum were ex-slaves who had fought their way to freedom but were still gladiating simply because they enjoyed the thrill of it, and also because the money was good. Others were fighters who were close to gaining their freedom. But one thing was true for all of them, they were all owned by the officiator.

The officiator was the largest owner of slaves in the kingdom. Most of his slaves were fighters from all three kingdoms. His suppliers were none other than the cleaners who somehow had a knack for capturing fighters from everywhere, even Samurai Territory.

All slaves were given the same options when they entered the colosseum. To fight for their freedom or to, get beaten to an inch of their life by the officiator, and still get forced to fight, this time without any hope of freedom. Some immediately chose the first option, the stubborn ones who saw themselves as unbeatable, rebelled, got their asses beaten, and then thrown into the arena to fight until they got killed.

The second group of slaves was easily distinguishable by their frowns which spoke of their hatred for the officiator and his merciless system.

Whiles the first group was hailed by the fans and had their pictures flying high at the colosseum, not counting all the money they made (even if it was coppers) as they fought for their freedom. The second group only got meaningless Cheers when they got lucky enough to not get torn to pieces by their opponents.

The only saving moment for the second group was when they did extremely well during the tournament and got picked for civil duty by high-ranking officials, nobles, or even the king himself. When that happened, even the officiator was bound to let them go. So this upcoming tournament was a big deal for the second group.

Another group of fighters was the criminal group. These were wanted People from nearby towns and even kingdoms who were not slaves but had sold themselves to the officiator In exchange for protection and some few silver pieces.

They fought on a sort of contract basis and had some semblance of freedom. They could leave the colosseum when they had no fight and come back when they did. Compared to the Others who were prisoners until they won their freedom.

Not like the criminal group ever left the colosseum. Most of them were wanted People who would get arrested or even lynched to death on sight outside the colosseum, so most of them just stayed in the colosseum until they got forgotten outside or got killed fighting.

Just like the second group of slaves, the criminal group also found their only saving moment to be the annual gladiating tournament. Most of them got killed before the tournament season even rolled near. But the few who did make it to that time of year found themselves having recurring dreams of newfound freedom after they had been granted a royal pardon by a high-ranking castle official.

All these people were preparing for the start of the tournament, and it would be an understatement to call the tension between the fighters high. It was damn near physical as everyone eyed their colleague with hostility.