Posted on: Sunday, 02 August 2009
If the inn had a name, no one knew it. It had existed as long as Ust Natha itself, tucked away in the corner of the city, attracting clients with the promise of pleasures of every possible description. If asked on the street, any drow would say that the heart of Ust Natha was the Temple of Lolth, and that the most important rituals took place there in the sight of the Spider Queen. In actuality, the twists and turns of the Pleasure District were the veins of the city, the scores of citizens and slaves who meandered them were the blood, and the massive spider-webbed inn its grotesque and pulsing heart.
A thunderous roar of voices arose from the crowd that was gathered around the slave pits – cheers, moans, screams, and insults. The Master of the Pits, Sondal, grabbed Veldrin's hand and hoisted it into the air.
“The victor!” he shouted, raising another round of cheers. “Three weeks and undefeated! Veldrin of Ched Nasad!”
Veldrin grinned. Even though his muscles were burning from exertion and he was nearly breathless from the strain of the fight, he felt wonderful. Powerful and invincible. The crowd's attention only increased the rush of pride and satisfaction.
“Again!” a voice shouted from the mass of bodies. It was quickly echoed by another, then a third. Soon the entire crowd writhed with a new and fresh lust for blood. “Again! Again! Again!”
Sondal released Veldrin's arm and gestured towards the crowd. “Males and honorable females, I beg your patience until tomorrow. There may be only two matches per–”
“No.” Veldrin cut him off with a hand on the man's shoulder. “I will fight again.”
Sondal objected. “But, my lord, surely you are in need of rest!”
“I will fight again,” Veldrin repeated, raising his sword high in the air. The audience erupted into a cacophony of approval. The sound was intoxicating and stoked his adrenaline to new heights. “I will fight again!” he bellowed.
Sondal's dark red eyes scanned quickly over the crowd; his business instinct was far too shrewd to let such a lucrative moment escape. “Veldrin will fight again!” he shouted. “Ten minutes, ladies and gentlemen! Place your bets! Fifty to one! Veldrin will fight Tebrekturek!”
“Fifty to one?” called a disbelieving voice. “One-hundred to one!”
“Fifty to one!” Sondal repeated firmly. “Veldrin is undefeated!”
“It's his third fight in the hour!”
“Suicide,” another muttered. “Hundred to one.”
“Fifty to one! Take it or leave it!” the Master of the Pits barked.
