The Bone Pit, Devilâ€™s Den, Hell itself and many other names have been giving to the Blood Arena where men, women, and beast are pitted against one another in honor less combat. They fight for nothing more than the right to live. The prizes are great but no one ever gains the main prized and that prize is freedom. This despicable arena is run by a self-proclaimed barbarian king named Roark. Heâ€™s a slimy man with a taste for blood but is too weak to fight in a real battle. Instead he forces half-starved men and women to fight seasoned fighters and starved beasts. The fights are almost never fair and the King makes sure of it.<br/><br/>The arena is a large structure made of brick, mud, and steal; which lies at the center of Roarkâ€™s fortress. There is no beauty to its bloody halls and the Kingâ€™s ideas of decorations are the severed heads and limbs of the fallen gladiators. The walls where the fighters fight are stained by the blood of thousands of competitorsâ€™ the sand is a permanent muddy brown of dried blood. The stands are made up of old benches, stone slabs, and steps that are filled nightly with loud blood hungry onlookers who bet on the lives of the Arenaâ€™s victims. The walls of the Blood pit where the fighters fight are high and steep; impossible for anyone to climb. The weapons for each match are locked in a metal cage and the key is usually around the neck of a large beast; such as a lion or tiger; or it is thrown into the middle of the ring where competitors fight over it. Some opt to just strangle their opponent to death or break their opponentâ€™s neck. Once a man turned anotherâ€™s head completely around and pulled, ripping muscle and tendons; soaking the sands with life blood until the head was completely severed.<br/><br/>Now, Under the Arena lies the â€˜training groundsâ€™ where the â€˜competitorsâ€™ lay in wait of their next battle.  Slaves that are taken from a battle won, farmers who do not yield enough stock for the King, or those unfortunate souls who happen to piss off the Kingâ€™s guards are caged like animals, forced to fight for their next meal, and left in horrible conditions. Those who actually win repeated battles are able to stay in nicer conditions above ground in the fortress; guarded of course; and given whatever they want as long as they win fights and keep the favor of the crowds. One particularly unfortunate soul is a woman by the name of Fay Silvers. She was a blacksmiths daughter who spat in the face of one of Roarkâ€™s men when he tried to pin her down and have his way with her. She is feisty, sharp, and fiery just like the pits in her fatherâ€™s shop where she helped make strong weapons. She never lost her spirit. Not even when Roarkâ€™s men burned down her fatherâ€™s shopâ€¦ with him still inside. Nor when they beat her into unconsciousness and dragged her to Hell.<br/><br/>Fay awoke slowly with a splitting head ache but worse than the pain in her head was the soreness in her entire body.  She opened her eyes only to blink them a couple of times to make sure she had not gone blind. Moving her hand in front of her face she sighed in quiet relief when she saw the faint outline of her hand. Not blind thenâ€¦ just very dark. She sat up slowly; careful not to hurt herself more as she tried to remember where she was. She could hear water dripping onto stone every couple of minutes, and faintly the sound of pained moans from other unfortunate souls within this dark place. She stood up slowly; making sure wherever she was did not have a low ceiling. She stretched her arms up but felt nothing but air so the room was at least over ten feet since she was only 5â€™7 and with her arms stretched up high without touching anything she was sure it was at least more than seven. She slowly walked to her right until her fingers came into contact with cold rusted steal. After walking around the room in a square she had an idea of her enclosure. She was in a three walled cell made of thick iron and one stone wall with no windows. Her heart began to beat fast within her chest and she felt ill to the point that she was sure that she would throw up what little food was in her stomach.<br/><br/>She remember the right she had with Roarkâ€™s men, her fatherâ€™s shop being burned down, and her father being burned alive inside. She had to be in the Blood Arena owned by Roark. Her right foot swung out connect with a metal bar with a loud clang flowed by a series of curses, â€œThey took my fucking shoes!â€ She hissed as tears welled up in her eyes from the pain of her bare toes hitting the metal. After the pain subsided some she felt the rest of her body noting that she still wore her work pants and shirt, â€œAt least I have clothes on.â€ She mumbled before taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. She had to find her way out of her beforeâ€¦ â€œYeah I canâ€™t wait to see that little bitch get cut open.â€ She heard the sound of laughter from maybe two or three men coming from her right before she started seeing the light of a torch as the came around the corner.<br/><br/>She had to shield her eyes from the sudden brightness but quickly recovered as the men approached her cage. There was a smug look on all three of the menâ€™s faces as they unlocked her door. She recognized the one who had started all of this, â€œYouâ€™re up for the next fight little rat.â€ He sneered as he approached her with a pair of heavy manacles that he clearly intended to use to bind her and keep her from moving. She stayed silent making herself look weak and scared as he approached her but as soon as he was close enough she brought her knee up hard in between his legs. He didnâ€™t even have time to shout; all the air left his lungs as he fell to his knees clutching his groin. She took her chance and rushed past him; slipping past one guard but just as she thought she had gotten away the other grabbed her by her hair and yanked. She felt some of her hair being torn from her head making her shout and turn to slug the guy but he used her backward momentum to punch her hard in the stomach knocking the wind out of her. She coughed as the two men laughed at the one guard that waddled out of the cell and chained her hands. He back handed her hard enough that her lip split. She tasted the blood and glared at the men, â€œHaha, she really got you there. You need to learn to pay attention more.â€ â€Shut the fuck up Torin.â€ The man growled as he roughly handled Fey, pushing her in front of them to lead her to the Arena. Her heart raced in her chest as she tried to think of a way out of this.<br/><br/>There was no way she would survive in a fight out there. She looked back and the men, â€œIâ€™m going to survive this and when I do I am going to take every opportunity I can to kill you.â€ Her words came out full of hatred and malice but the man only laughed, â€œTrust me you wonâ€™t survive this.â€ He grinned as he her into a small birdlike cage. It was confining and barely gave her any room to move.  The manacles on her wrists were removed and the ceiling above her pulled away. Sunlight pooled into the area around her; blinding her, â€œI will enjoy watching you die.â€ The man laughed as the cage began to go up, taking her outside where she could already hear the roar of the fans wanting her blood to coat the sands. She heard a manâ€™s voice ring out, barely heard over the crowd, â€œThe next match will feature Teraida, The bleeder!â€ The crowd roared even louder as her cage was finally set down where everyone could see. Her eyes adjusted and she quickly looked up at the stands where people were screaming for some action. She saw the guard that had killed her father standing near an entrance way already grinning ear from ear. She looked down at the hot sand that was stained with fresh blood from the last match. In fact the last matchâ€™s loser was lying dead by the far right wall with his stomach cleaved open. The sword that was used to kill him was still sticking out of his chest coved in bloody gore, â€œAnd this little spit fire is his opponent! The fresh meat!â€ The crowd cheered louder as her cage opened, â€œLet the fight commence!â€