#provinggrounds

The roar of the crowd flooded his ears. The stone pebbles beneath his feet bounced and rolled to the stomping and cheering. He had been kidnapped, tortured, and dealt with his hardships since the last time he stood here. He had trained as hard as his early dragoon days to be here. The sweat, the wounds, the strain all forced upon his bronzed chiseled body for this moment.

His armor warmed in the son and droplets of sweat already began to bead on his skin. Ivory raised an eyebrow at his revealing outfit, but the armor uniforms were at the request of Lady Owuwu. The leather straps barely contained him and left much of his body exposed and vulnerable. But that was the point. Blood was desired, and though no one had died yet, serious injuries were common in the proven grounds. Ivory did not stop him, though her face said she was not happy with him returning so soon.

A large cheer at the first victor brought him back to the present. His dragoon helmet closed and protecting against the suns glare. He always needed a cold shower after being in Uldah.

".....the Ishgardian Dragoon Garinn Armstrong!!!" Lady Owuwu's voice boomed out from her balcony bringing Garinn to the slaughter. His feet moved in tandem to the thumping pulse of the audience as he walked out to center stage. He smiled and nodded to friends and ladies in the stands. Raeynn did not return his gaze, merely scowling as she looked into the distance. He would have to talk to her later, but for now combat awaited.

An equally muscled highlander, Gaspard, was his first opponent of the night. His mistake was wielding a two handed weapon. The heavy blade could cleave Garinn in two, if he stood still for the man.

Lady Owuwu called for blood, and the men obliged. Garinn struck fast and true, landing a dozen blows on his opponent before he could lift the sword to swing. But swing he did. Though Garinn raised his halberd to intercept the blade, it was not enough. His feet dig through the ground, sand and gravel flying as he was pushed back from the blow. It chipped into his halberd and found flesh as well. A deep gash marred Garinns perfect body and blood began to flow.

More blows were traded before both men swung with all their might, blades locked as they grunted and flexed to win the strength competition. Garinn knew his halberd would be the first to yield, forced their weapons to the side before spinning to stab Gaspard. The man was not fast enough and Garinn stared in horror as he impaled the mans chest. Gaspard nodded at him before his body slid to the ground.

Thank the gods for the healers and the man was okay. His daughter crying over his body was not something he would soon forget. Before long he was back on his feet.

Round two he faced Datlas, a fierce woman with metal claws. His speed matched hers and he landed several attacks before she was finally able to close the distance and claw at his chest. He got away and leaped in to skewer her. Again he was surprised as his halberd found his mark, cutting deep into her shoulder. Not wanting to almost kill another gladiator he dropped his weapon. Metal gauntlets clanged against claws before he talked her and beat her into submission.

The finals. Again. One opponent stood between him and his first ivory dagger. Ezayi, another dagger wielding miqote that Garinn had fought before. The man had drastically improved since their first meeting.

A twist Owuwu called out. Of course there would be. Garinn and Ezayi stood staring each other down as both men were chained together at the ankle. 10 feet would be the furthest they would be from one another at any point. The two rushed one another, blood spilled, and the crowd roared. Garinn knocked his opponent back and ran, kicking the chain hard to send him sprawling to the ground.

The chain. That damn chain. Garinn picked some of it up to beat Ezayi down. Before he knew it the Miqote abandoned everything to grapple him and wrap the chain around his neck. Garinn slammed him to the ground, did everything he could to wrestle free and claim his prize.

Two weeks ago Garinn would have fought until he passed out or died. But after what he had been through. Ivory already worried about him, and he couldn't put her through that. Blood already poured from wounds. He tapped out before everything went black.

Coughing and gasping for air he was released, and Ezayi pronounced Champion. His patron, Louinat, screams and curses could be heard above the rest. He had failed. He lost. He failed them all. Screaming and cursing as he was escorted back to the fighter pit. He angrily waved off the healers as he threw his helmet against the wall. Lady Owuwu was offering the champion the dagger. His dagger. He should have won and began to punch the wall in frustration. Loui and Ivory rushed to calm him down and look over his wounds. Shoulders slumped, his horned helmet was lifted off the ground and he went back to his house, Ivory in his arms. She tried to comfort him but he was still angry at his loss, and would be for some time.

That damn chain.