Brek stepped out of the dank prison cell and stretched his muscular arms. His nearly five-foot frame had fit easily in the small stone room, but his arms and legs had been shackled to the wall during his stay. The bright sun hurt his eyes and he thankfully grabbed his weather-beaten, wide-brimmed hat from the guard and covered his bald head with it. He smiled, tusks bared, and said, “Thank you, Innkeeper, for the room. I shall look you up if ever I am in town again.”
The jailor sneered and shoved Brek forward. “I don’t know why they ain’t keepin’ ya, Beast, but you’d best be on yer way before the judge changes his mind.”
Brek snarled and swung his head around to the jailor’s startled face. The half-orc’s skin was a blotchy yellow, his too-large nose looked as though it had been smashed into his face, and his eyes were too close together. Much of that might have passed for human, but his tusks gave him away. They were not large, in fact he could hide them under his lips for a time, but they were plainly visible when he spoke. Or when he snarled in anger. “Just because I did not commit a crime does not mean I will not break the arms of an abusive jailor who neglected my meal last night.” Saliva dripped from Brek’s lips as he held his face close to the jailor’s. “Maybe I should just take a quick snack right now.”
The jailor’s eyes were huge as he pulled back from the half-orc and stammered, “I-I-I’m sorry, Brek. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. I knew you was innocent.”
Brek smiled, “Of course you did. I always made you plenty of money when I was working in the Pits, didn’t I. A star like myself couldn’t be guilty, isn’t that right?”
The guard nodded, “Yeah, that’s just what I was saying last night when they brung you in. That guy’s a star. He ain’t no criminal.”
“You just remember that if I’m ever brought here again.” With that, Brek whirled away from the guard and stomped through the busy marketplace. “Clear the way!” Despite his small stature, his impressive bellow and rippling muscles convinced everyone in his way to find somewhere else to be. How was I to know that it wasn’t really a tiger about to eat that little girl. Illusionists ought to hang a sign or something.
A few hours later, Brek’s furious pace had slowed as he made his way through the forest and approached his home. “Home,” Brek muttered, “or what passes for one. A real treat for the Star of the Pits.” The half-orc grunted as he pulled himself up the small overhang to reach his home. Brek’s home was a ceiling and a single wall set against a mountain in the Royal Forest. It extended slightly into the mountain, not quite deep enough to be a cave, and contained all of his possessions. A battered cooking pot, a tattered blanket, and a chipped and rusted short sword sat in the furthest corner of his makeshift house. Exhausted from his trip to the capital city, Brek plopped down on the edge of the cave and stared out over the forest. “Home.”
Later, he dreamed he was back in the Pits. In the middle of the vast arena of sand, he fought three men at once. The man identified as a murderer swung a giant axe, but Brek knocked the blade to the side with a swipe of his hand. He grabbed the haft of the axe and pulled the man to himself to block the sword strike of the rapist beside him. The rapist’s blade ran through the murderer’s back and the injured man fell to the ground. The rapist had time to look up before Brek buried the axe in his face and he too fell. Behind Brek, the thief slammed the spiked club into his back. Unperturbed, the half-orc spun around and grabbed the thief’s leg and knocked him on his back. He bellowed in rage over the fallen man then turned to look out over the audience. Brek flexed his muscles and bellowed again as the crowd lining the stands cheered. “Death!” they called. “Kill. Blood. One winner! One winner!”
Brek bellowed again and then grabbed the fallen thief by his ankles. Using his inhuman strength, the half-orc started swinging the man around and around as the thief screamed for mercy. Finally, when the crowd’s chanting reached its climax, Brek let the man fly toward the spike-lined wall nearest him. The thief twisted in the air before his body struck the spikes…
Brek woke in a sweat as he heard a roar in the forest below. Grabbing his short sword, he plopped his hat on his head and dropped over the side of the cliff into the trees below. It was hunting time.
The light filtering through the leaves in the forest made it easy to see everything except Brek. The yellow and gold colors of the leaves merely worked to disguise his oddly colored skin and squat form. His tough bare feet betrayed no noise as he slid around tree branches and over mossy stumps. Brek’s oddly shaped ears picked up the sounds of the large creature as it thrashed through the trees and allowed him to hone in on its location without seeing what he pursued. The only sense that did not help him in his tracking was his vision. The mix of orc and human blood had played havoc with his daytime eyesight, so he had to focus on his ears and nose to guide him to his prey.
“Keep the forests safe,” Brek muttered to himself as he remembered his last visit with the king. Brek had been champion of the Pits for just over a year before he had been summoned in for a personal visit with his majesty. The meeting had been brief and to the point. “Here’s what’s going to happen. After tomorrow’s match, provided you win, of course, there will be a ceremony where I set you free to be guardian of the King’s Forest as reward for your fiftieth consecutive win. This is unprecedented, as I’m sure you know, but so is your winning streak in the Pits.”
“Free, sir?” Brek had been stunned.
“Just keep our forests safe, son, and we’ll consider it a bargain. I’ll have a new champion again soon enough and our betting proceeds from the Pits will return to normal.” Without so much as a farewell, the king had departed and left his advisors to work out the details.
Since then, Brek had brought down any beasts that had ventured near the capital city. As proof of his continued vigilance, he would leave the carcass of the creature near the city gates. He had no need of reward as the forest provided any food and shelter he desired, but he wanted the King to know that he was keeping his end of the bargain. Occasionally the beasts were simple bears or giant cats, but every few weeks a troll would be found or some other more dangerous creature. They all fell under Brek’s watchful eye.
Another mighty roar broke Brek’s thoughts and made him realize how close he had gotten to the creature. He also realized that there were human shouts nearby. “This is something new,” Brek exclaimed as he leapt up the side of a tree to get a better look. Grasping the sides of the trunk with his toes and hanging from a branch with his free arm, the half-orc saw something he was not expecting.
A dragon.
The green colored beast was a baby, but was still larger than a team of horses driving a carriage. It neither breathed fire, nor cast any discernable spells, but merely thrashed its massive body against the men trying to contain it. Half a dozen of the city guards gathered around the beast and had managed to wrap up one of its wings in a strong metal net. The baby dragon roared again and slammed one of the men against a tree with its armored head and knocked another to the ground with the flap of its free wing. The remaining soldiers took the hint and fled out of range of the dragon’s attacks.
Brek smiled at the challenge ahead of him. With a gladiator’s cry, Brek leaped over the treetops and landed in the clearing formed by uprooted trees around the dragon. Legs spread, toes gripping the earth to steady his stance, he twirled his sword over his head in challenge.
The dragon roared in return and swept its tail like a whip at the squat man. Brek easily flipped over the appendage but was still startled as several trees tumbled to the ground. He tumbled back under a clawed foot as it tried to stomp his head. As he stepped away from the mighty lizard, his short sword dripped blood from the swipe along its underside. With an impossible flip to its side, the dragon smashed its jaws into Brek and drove him into the ground. The mighty half-orc held the jaws and tried to keep them from digging into his body as he squirmed in the dirt. Brek felt the stinking breath on him as the jaws grew closer and closer to his yellowed face. With a quick twist, Brek shot the short sword that had been pressed against the side of the beast’s head inside its mouth. The blade stabbed into the roof of the baby dragon’s mouth and propped the blade against the creature’s tongue.
As it roared in outrage, Brek rolled out from under the press of its head. He slammed his fist against the creature’s skull just as the creature’s claws raked up the side of his body. The half-orc’s blood sprayed from the deep wound, but he was into full gladiator mode now. With strength not known to normal men, Brek grabbed the clawed foot and twisted it savagely. Throwing his weight into the pull, he smiled when he heard the snap of a bone inside the creature’s leg. The dragon twitched and bucked and sent Brek flying back into the trees. From behind him, he could hear the soldiers shouting at him, but once he had surrendered himself to the fight, Brek ignored all other distractions.
Screaming in anger, Brek grabbed one of the broken tree branches lying next to him and leapt atop the dragon’s back. His toes squeezed between the creature’s hard scales and took a fierce grip as he batted its head with the makeshift club. The long branch cracked and split as Brek whacked it again and again into the dragon’s head. Blood sprayed from its mouth as it tried to work loose the blade and more blood sprayed back behind it as it tried to swing its tail up to knock the attacker loose. Over and over Brek rhythmically beat the creature’s head with the tree branch as the soldiers gathered around the thrashing beast and continued to shout. Two of the men began firing arrows, apparently trying to help, but the shots came closer to striking the half-orc than they did the dragon. It did not matter to him, though, as his tough skin would deflect all but the most direct hits.
For a moment, Brek was back in the Pits feeling the crowds shout his name as he defeated another opponent. He twirled the tree branch over his hand and then paused for a moment to smile to the soldiers. One of the soldiers seemed to have a look of shock mixed with horror as Brek turned his attention back to the dragon before him and lifted the tree branch high for another strike. Bearing down with all of his strength, he snapped the thick branch down across the creature’s head splintering the wood into a thousand pieces. The dragon dropped to the ground, lifeless.
Brek swooned as he came back to his senses and realized how much blood was pouring from his side. Gingerly, he hopped down the dragon’s side and stumbled to the nearest soldier. “No need to thank me, boys. Just doing the Majesty’s service.” His head spun and he nearly fell into the man. “Although, I wouldn’t be averse to someone helping me bandage these wounds.”
The soldier looked at the baby dragon lying on the ground beside him and then turned back to look at Brek. He waited until the other soldiers gathered around before saying, “As a member of his Majesty’s personal guard, I hereby place you under arrest.”
Brek shook his head to clear his thoughts and then replied amazedly, “Arrest?”
The soldier nodded. “You have murdered his Majesty’s new pet just arrived from the Eastern Kingdom. It was to be the new champion of the Pits.”
Brek sighed and started to reply, “Of all the rotten luck…” Then, he collapsed unconscious to the ground beside his vanquished opponent. Fifty one consecutive wins and still undefeated champion of the Pits.