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Dunkel Sonne [IC]


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The barely-visible shimmer stalked out of the cage, circling around its prey. It considered making a run for freedom, up and out of the pit, but it knew it would not get far. Besides, there was tasty prey here, now. A thin thing, with just a cloth and a stick: how could it hope to beat it? Why, it couldn’t even-

No, it could see! The tembo stopped, staring into the prey’s weird blue eyes. It bet they would be a refreshing treat. It set itself into a crouch, hind legs like coiled springs, and leaped into the air, switching out its concealing-field for its deflective one.

Archeville at first thought it was a lion on him: it was nearly the size of one, and the same tawny color. But that was not fur, it was a saggy, scaly skin! And no lion had claws that long, or fangs that big, or dimetrodon-like ridges on its back!

It went for his neck with its jaws, while the front claws looked to rend the chest, and the rear claws tore at the prey’s soft belly. But the prey surprised it again, using the stick to push it back so it could not land a killing blow! All it managed was to bloody one of its rear claws on the prey’s soft belly.

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Yah, that was close! Another few centimeters and it would have snagged intestine! Got to end this, now, before it kills me!

The Doktor slipped into his melee fugue state, shifting gears from “look good for the crowds” to “end this, now” mode. He noted its movements, its positioning, where it would most likely be in the next second, next microsecond, and brought his staff down with all the force he could muster on where the center of its skull would be. The move worked, and the beast was dazed.

A crowd had gathered around the top of the pit, gladiators of all races coming to see whether the new meat would get eaten or not. The Doktor barely noted that one of the newcomers, a woman with close-cropped blonde hair, and Vaerhirmana were engaged in heated discussion.

He prepared for another swing, but the beast’s uncoordinated staggers were much harder to predict, and his blow fell short, sinking into the bloodied dirt before it. By now the beast had recovered, and it lunged for Archeville again, fangs slowing with a weird, crackling clack energy. Archeville pushed back on the staff, like a reverse pole-vault, evading the beast’s terrible maw. He swung around on the pole, making it think he was going for a kick to the side, but at the last moment planted his feet firmly on the sand, flipped the staff up, and rammed it into creature’s mouth, striking the back of the its throat!

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The tembo spasmed and staggered, but did not fall. It glared at Archeville, mouth slavering, partly from overwhelming desire to eat his soft flesh, partly from not being able to control its drooling reflex. It reared back, but before it could lunge forward two long, thick sticks prodded it from above and pushed it back towards its cage.

“” Oghran shouted over the sounds of onlookers settling bets, “”

“” he replied, flashing another smile at Vaerhirmana and her blonde companion. “”

Oghran sputtered again, as did a few of the onlookers. “”

““ Vaerhirmana chimed in, “”

Oghran grumbled and groused.

“<... which means they have more money to>” she added.

Oghran’s grumbling lessened, and he gestured at the ramp, which his half-giants replaced so Archeville could climb out. Once he reached the top, Oghran poked at the slashes across his belly, harumphed, then pointed at the tent they’d passed earlier. “”

“” Vaerhirmana repeated, socked at the news. Other gladiators around them had similar reactions.

Oghran scowled and motioned for silence, “” he shouted, waving everyone away.

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