But that young girl...she moved like a trained soldier and killed without hesitation. The sheer will to survive was not really all that unbelievable. People could do amazing things when they were backed into a corner. But combat skills were learned over a long period of time, and then more training was needed to apply those skills to a real life-and-death situation as opposed to training drills or sparring. The fact that she’d had the mental capacity to stay calm and apply techniques through muscle memory and reflex instead of conscious action was truly amazing!
The warrior’s thoughts were interrupted once again when he caught the eye of another man sitting by himself on the bench across from him. Aside from the fact he was staring a hole into Morcel, the large, dark-skinned man stood out simply by being so calm. When surrounded by men screaming like girls covered with centipedes or who were relieving themselves on the floor constantly because the unrelenting panic does not allow them the slightest bit of bodily control, it makes a calm man stand out like he was on fire. The dark-skinned man slowly stood up, never taking his eyes from Morcel as he walked gracefully towards him, stepping over one of the poor souls that was trembling uncontrollably while curled up in a fetal position on the cold stone.
“Well met,” came a low, grumbling voice. As if the dark skin and sheer size of the man did not give it away, the thick Dronin accent was unmistakable. Dronin was a large city in the mountain range off to the west. The city itself was backed up for defense purposes against the great mountain peak called Steris. There was only one major road that led up to Dronin, but it was quite large, enough for ten wagons to ride side by side up until you got within a mile or so of the city. Then the road narrowed significantly, and sported a steep ledge on each side, again for defense purposes. Any opposing regiment would be funneled into tight quarters, where Dronin archers would pick them off.
The Dronin people were not especially hateful or even aggressive. They felt that preparing for war all the time would mean it would never happen. The philosophy seemed to hold true to some degree, seeing as how Dronin had not been attacked or even been involved in conflict since the Undead War, hundreds of years ago. It could be that they kept to themselves on most political matters and did not rattle any cages, or simply that only a fool would attack a city that does nothing but prepare its citizens for war from the day they first draw breath.
“Well met,” Morcel replied without ever standing up or offering his hand. Basic courtesies seemed as out of place here as a priest in a whorehouse, but he did maintain eye contact throughout the exchange.
“Of all the company I be keeping in here, you look the face I might be seeing when dis be over.” The man was actually taller than Morcel and nearly as muscular. In fact, given his cut, lean frame, he appeared to be more muscular! Of course, standing in nothing but the loincloth that was supplied to everyone didn’t leave much to the imagination, as all the slaves in this room were easy to judge from a physical standpoint. Most were thin and seemed to be farmers or laborers, as best as he could tell.
Morcel looked down at his feet for a moment, then replied, “I hope to find a way to pull through this. Of course, if the Gods have decided it’s my time, then I go to them with no regrets. Everyone dies, but not everyone gets to choose how. I’ve known for most of my life I would die on a battlefield. However, I did not know it would be for the entertainment of the people I once swore to protect.”
“Words of a man who feels he no longer be in control of his own fate,” came the slow, rumbling reply. “I not care if you live or die. It make no difference to me, but I want life. To see me family again. I think you help me do that. We, together, have better chance live,” the tall stranger pieced the words together as best he could.
Morcel said nothing as his mind raced once more. The mental wall came crashing down and he was now taking it all in. The cries and whimpers of terrified men spread throughout the stone room. Fear hung heavy in the air and seemed only to intensify, as they could now hear the crowd outside getting louder with the taunts of the speaker as he tried to prolong his moment of cheap glory by dragging out the introductions to the upcoming carnage.
The man the large Dronin had originally stepped over was now gouging at his own eyes while laughing like a giddy child, stopping only now and then to let out a soft sob. Another mind snapped like a twig. Morcel felt as though the realization that he might not survive this was hitting him for the first time. Perhaps the warrior meditation he learned so many years ago was betraying him and allowing him to really feel the severity of it all. No, that is not why his senses had heightened. The warrior knew this whole time he was doomed and was resigned to his fate. So what had just changed?