Phillip sat in his cell. The dirty floor was stained repeatedly by blood, giving it a monochromatic red kaleidoscope pattern of chaos. He lifted himself to look to the side, to see a gate, that he assumed would lead to the arena.

He could faintly hear the clashing of battle outside, the cheers, the boos, and the screams of anguish and battle cries of victory.

Collecting himself from this, he looked to the other side of the cell and seen a cage of weapons. It appeared to be locked from the outside and wondered how it worked. He couldn't think of anything, the only weapon he ever used was a sword.

Phillip furrowed his brows... He hated the sword. It emphasized speed and skill. It wasn't a problem for Phillip to brandish strength, as he could use a blunt training sword to slip a training dummy. He even wondered what happened to the rusty sword he was given last time.

Shaking his head, he pondered while looking at the blood-caked blade in the iron cage. His eyes drifted to the weapons next to it. A Mace, a chain and mace, and two different kinds of axes... One big Axes, and a pair of small Axes.

[Axe.] Phillip thought within his mind. He remembered the axe swing that arced and reaped the life of his Lord. He should be mad or at least angry that over Lord Godalming's death... But Phillip felt nothing, but loss.

[I live better as a slave than I did when I was among them... Was I any better than a slave then? Maybe being a slave now is actually a higher class than being poor...] Phillip wondered within his mind, as he continued to stare at the pair of Axes.

[Should I...? Try an Axe?] Phillip wondered.

Then he heard Ragnath voice, "Hoy! It's your turn Tin Can. Kill or be killed! Life or Death! It's in your hands, but make the crowd cheer no matter which you pick!

Startled, Phillip never thought about it...

[I've... I've never killed anyone...]

As Phillip heard the outside gate pop and click. Cracks of daylight began to spill through, into the dank dark holding cell. To his left, the armored cage of weapons popped open, allowing retrieval.

Phillip took a step and placed his hand on the hilt of the sword for a moment before he moved to the big Axe.

He pulled the Axe from the cage feeling the weight in his hands, and he gripped it tightly in both his hands. This was a normal large bearded Axe, but it felt good.

"Stop being in a daze and get out there!" Ragnath's voice boomed through the cell. Phillip jumped before he moved out of his Cell and into the arena.

Through the slits of his helmet could see the massive stands. Only now did he realize just how large the population of the Blacktongue clan was... There must have been five thousand Orcs in the stands. He could see clearly the Blacktongue Clan Leader, and the Shaman called Uvog standing next to him. Surprising Phillip the most was sitting next to the Orc Clan Leader on a lower seat was... Jukzuk!

[But... I thought was a slave too?] A feeling of shock but also relief washed into his heart, as the roaring of the announcer's voice rang in his armored helm.

"THIS FOLKS! THIS IS THE HUMAN CALLED LEGBREAKER! THAT'S THE ONE IN THE RUMORS! DID HE BREAK AN ORC'S LEG? DID HE PISS HIMSELF WHEN THEY PULLED HIM FROM UNDER A WAGON HIDING?!? WE DON'T KNOW WITH THE RUMORS BEING THROWN AROUND, BUT TODAY! TODAY WE SEE IF HE CAN HOLD...! HIS...! LIFE...!"

Phillip heard the cheers, the boos, and the scorn of the crowd. He searched the crowd and among them... He saw... Hellie. She was cheering loudly, while her cheers were in line with the others, it was what she was saying that brought a lot of attention.

"WOOOOO! COME ON, LEGBREAKER! MAMA HERE NEEDS MEAD MONEY! MY TIN CAN IS A KILLER CAN! COME ON!!!! KILL FOR MAMA!" Hellie screamed over the other Orcs, while Phillip saw another shocking sight. A thinner female Orc was grabbing Hellie trying to pull her down to her seat. Her face... Phillip squinted with his fat face inside his helmet... Her face looks the same as Hellie's... Sister? Twin Sister???

The gong was sounded, and it vibrated the arena. Phillip heard this before each match and knew it was his turn. He finally looked to his opponent. It was another human who held a sword. This human had a muscular build, and he had seen him in the cage when he was first sent after arriving on the wagons. He stood a head shorter than Phillip but had a lanky build. He was bare-chested with armored bracers, leather pants, and leather boots. His stubble on his face showed many days of neglect, and the brown strikes on his body showed the accumulation of dust and dirt that ran with sweat, unbathed for days.

He heard the human speak in common, "The traitor!" The human spat.

"...What traitor...?" Phillip asked as they squared off. Phillip was using what little training he received as a squire to fight, though he had never actually fought before.

"I heard from the others... Leading Orcs to attack us, humans. Orc lover, ha... I heard the one called Simon speak of your fat. Seems your schemes with the Orcs run deep."

"...???" While Phillip was trying to process what this human was talking about, the human charged him with his sword swinging.

"Honestly, Jukzuk... Why are you so attached to that fat human?" The Orc chief leaned down to ask while sitting on his throne.

Jukzuk watched the fight unfold, "Because I have a feeling about him..."

"Oh? What feeling is that?" The chief said.

"I don't feel it's good to say if he dies in the arena... We will see if he can live through this first." Jukzuk said grimly, as he prayed to the elements Phillip would be fine.

The Orc Chief grunted, and changed the topic, as he watched Phillip block another attack of the enemy human with that large Axe, which the chief thought was a good choice of weapon, "Hoy... Jukzuk have you thought any more on what we talked about... About... The Promise of the Calamity."

Jukzuk shook his head, "Varbuk... You are already hailed as the chief of the Blacktongues... Why do you wish to raise that ancient weapon...?"

A crazed zeal shot from the eyes of the Orc Chief, "I need that Axe! With it, I can solidify my rule over the Blacktongues! While I sit here, you know there are those that don't wish for me to sit here! Furthermore, with my hands and that Axe, I can bring the Blacktongues back to the glory they once had and reclaim our ancestral homelands!" He yelled in a whisper that only Jukzuk could hear.

Jukzuk didn't pay attention as he watched Phillip's fight take a turn for the worst.

Phillip was blocking the attacks of the human, but his knowledge of the Axe was near absent.

The Human lifted his metallic bracer to catch the sun, a trick this human used when he was a bandit on the roads. The sunlight from behind him bounced off of the bracer and into the slits of the armored oaf, while the human smirked.

Phillip blinded by the light and his lack of experience, the human slipped under his guard, and with as his blade bit deeply into Phillip's thigh spilling blood.

Pain... That familiar friend. The only friend that stayed by his side turned again to greet him, but unlike before where he just embraced his old friend... Phillip yelled in rage!

"I AM NOT TO BE FUCKED WITH!" He yelled in Orcish! His shout vibrating his helm, shaking his head, but echoed out drowning the crowds cheering and jeering.

Phillip slung his hand and Axe at an angle, not intending to use the blade of the Axe, but using it as a board to slap away a fly!

His arm and Axe slammed into the arm and left side of the human, as he fell to the ground sliding two meters away.

Clenching his teeth in anger, Phillips hot breath issued through the holes of his grim grimace. He stepped heavy, hard, and fast to the side of the human. In the same way, he saw that Orc execute Lord Godalming... He emulated that swing, that arc that reaped the life of that man that thought himself important.

Lifting the Axe above his head, it came into that arc.

Into the chest of the human all the way down to his stomach splitting the middle cavity open, blood burst forth, bone splintered, and white organs showed through the sides of where the Axe embedded itself into the chest. The blood splattered across Phillip's hands, arms, and chest. His helmet was speckled red.

Phillip looked into the eyes of the human he just killed. He watched his face that was anguished, with his eyes open, as the light in them dimmed and then dulled. He stepped back to watch the inner organs squiggle out. That hot metallic smell rushed up and found its way into his helmet.

A sour taste rushed to his throat, as the crowd's cheers faded away. His vision darkened as he remained looking at the steaming pile of meat in front of him that was once a person, but now flayed.

Phillip shaking himself off, he ran to his hole in the wall that was his cell. He collapsed on the reddened floor, as that sour taste erupted from his mouth and flowed through his helmet's slits.

He continued until there was nothing left within his stomach, but juices... And even then, he continued until he dry heaved.

Jukzuk from the stands stood up and sighed...

"Hoy...? You don't want to take back our lands?" The Chief spoke to Jukzuk.

"It's not that... I need to speak to the Legbreaker. It seems his first kill has taken a toll on him."

"First... Kill? Ah... Ahaha.. HAHAHAHAHA!" The Orc Chief began laughing madly, "He's never killed?! How do you KNOW!?"

"He ran from his kill... I should say, he fled... Excuse me." Jukzuk left his seat.

The Orc Chief calmed down and patted his chest where he almost began to cough from laughing, but his eyes narrowed watching Jukzuk leave.

"Let go of me," Hellie commanded her sister, Demze.

"You can't go. There are reasons."

"I don't give a damn. He's hurt, and I can fix him up. You know I'm good at triage."

"So you are, but they will get someone else to do it. It's not a good look for you to do it! Think about your status."

"Didn't you hear me?" Hellie shrugged off Demze, "I don't give a damn about that, or us being the adopted daughters of the chief! I'm going to go help him." Hellie stormed away.

Demze shook her head, watching all the orcs in the surroundings watching their Orc Goddess concern for a... Human.

Many faces that were thrilled by the kill, were now contorted into displeasure.