[Necromancing the Stone]

THWACK!

The blow from the Lanista (trainer) sent Agarly flying back, she hit the wall with a dull THUD.  She stood up, skinny, dirty, with a small trickle of blood coming from her nose and seeping down her chin from the corner of her mouth.  She was young, barely eight years old, but had already been training in the pits of the Ludus Magnus for two years.  She had grown strong in those two years, in part from her heritage.....she had "warrior" in her bones....and in part from just these training sessions with her instructor.

The instructor was a grizzled old Gnoll.  His hair may have once been a resplendent steely gray, but now it had turned white in most places, and it looked mottled from countless scars that had the skin grow back thick, preventing his fur from re-growing.  One eye was a mangled mess, from the looks of it, something had been shoved quite roughly into his eye socket.  He refused to wear a patch, preferring to let his visage work into the nerve of the new recruits.  He was hunched over and limped, his legs likely broken a dozen times each in the pits, but he was still strong.  He enjoyed playing the gimpy old instructor during the first sessions, playing up his decrepit appearance, until he could unleash his full strength into a fresh trainee.  He held nothing back, they would learn or they would die.  Some would think he was without compassion, but really he took his role seriously, and wanted to ensure no gladiator entered the Arena unprepared.

He growled in the guttural language of his kind.

Keep your head up, defenses forward! Drop your guard again, and I will tear your throat out with my teeth!

Agarly stood up, wiped her face, smearing the blood across it without really removing it.  She smiled menacingly, her teeth gleaming. She answered, speaking Gnoll.

Yes, Lanista, Agarly will remember.

She said "remember" as if she was cataloguing the pain in order to make him pay later.  The Gnoll knew and smiled inwardly....This one has spirit, he thought to himself. She will do well....if she survives.

Suddenly with a look of pure hate, her face twisted into a mass of snarling teeth and furious anger, she bellowed a call and charged the Gnoll, swinging the training staff she was using with equal parts skill and wild abandon.  The Gnoll side stepped and wheeled around just in time to take decent strike from the girl on his thigh.  The grunt of pain was real as he turned to face the new charge.

.............

Agarly, remembered little from her time before the Ludus Magnus.  The innocence of children had long since been lost, and memories of picking blueberries with her cousins, and running through the trees were fading away.  She did remember "that" day.  Both of her parents were Rashemi Snow Tiger Berserkers as their lodge was called.  The raids between Thay and Rashemen were frequent. Usually just an annoyance, but occasionally real wars.  This  was but a scouting mission, Agarly surmised.  She didn't remember many Thayans that day, but she also could only recall her mother and father.  Either they had been surprised alone, or had been cut off.  Agarly would likely never know.  Her parents were running hard through the forest, panting under the exertion.  They were usually faster than their pursuers, but it became clear soon they were not going to get away. Carrying a six year old girl was slowing them down enough that they could not increase their distance.  The safety of the town was just to far away.

Her mother lifted her up to her face easily, standing tall and strong. 

Agarly, hide in these bushes.  Do not come out until your father and I have killed these invaders.

Agarly only nodded in return.  Scared, and not knowing what was about to happen, only knowing danger was close.  She had never seen her parents truly unleash their berserker fury.  Her father had given her a wooden sword and would play fight with her, and she had seen them both train, but she had never seen the full force of a Rashemi Berserker.  As her mother threw her into the bush, she could see her mothers face twist and pull at the seems, like the inner fury was going to actually split open her face.  Her fathers roar was louder and longer, but not truly carrying more power. She watched as they turned and rushed into the ranks of the Thayans.

The two berserkers spears swung, and shoved and were thrust into the ribs, faces, and legs of any that would dare engage them in combat.  A half dozen lay dead at their feet in moments.  The battle was taking its toll as both of her parents had been cut in a dozen places and their blood was flowing onto the forest floor.  But they stood strong and ready.  In the end, it wasn't a warrior that ended the battle.  She caught a glimpse of red, and then power she had never seen before, flashed.  The flash left her dazed, half blinded, and disoriented.  

The last thing she remembered was strong hands lifting her out of the bush, and cords being bound around her wrist.  She could feel rage and pain welling up inside her and with a tiny roar she began kicking furiously.  Her vision was clearing and she could hear the Thayans laughing at her display of rage.....right up until Agarly felt her little foot connect fully with the jaw of one of her captors.  He oomphed and fell backwards... The others laughed even harder, but the blow to her head ended her struggles.

When she awoke, she was dirty, thoroughly trussed, and slung over a horse.  Over the next few days she fell into a routine: Her captors would attempt to feed her as she was worth good money...she would lash out and fight them and attempt to escape.  She managed to get as far as a quarter of a mile once, but that was it.  No six year old girl was ever going to truly break away from a Thayan raiding party intent on keeping her captive.

She landed in Surthay, was bought and sold several times, until finally someone recognized her potential....or got tired of being punched in the face and having to chase after her....and she reached her final destination of the great Arena of Thay.  

She grew to accept her fate, and understood there was no leaving.  There were no more wilds of Rashemen.  She threw herself fully into her new found life and became supremely dedicated to the Arena. She became a 

GLADIATOR!

Her only real friend in the training center was a wise old human.  He had tattoos of Gond on each forearm surrounded by tattoos of Tempus, the Red Knight, and Garagos.  He was aged, but he always seemed to have the best item at the ready to turn battles in his favor.  There were FOUR human Gods of War, he said.  Not three.  Tempus the overlord of war and skill in battle, Garagos was the God of unbridled rage and fury, Red Knight the God of planning and tactics.  But Gond? The Wonderbringer was the God of all the things used to keep you safe and kill your opponent in battle.  He coached Agarly on how to take advantage of whatever she could find, or forge and how to turn it to her advantage in the Arena.  Agarly kept all four Gods of war close to her heart, but it was the God of weapons and armor who she believed aided her the most when she needed a hand.  

When at last she put her last training partner onto the ground with her training stick, she was barely touched.  The battle was over in seconds.  The wise old Gnoll looked at her as she regained her breath from the short fight. He growled softly in his guttural language since she was one of the very few that had bothered to learn it.

Go and see the Doctore.  It is time. Be sure to win the crowd

She growled back, a small smile creeping over face.

As you command, Lanista.