The smell of ash and burnt flesh remained in his nostrils as Deatt took a deep breath. His body was aching. Using all the strength Deatt had left, he opened his eyes.

  The blinding light immediately caused him a headache. When his eyes adjusted to it, he realized that he was still laying on the wooden platform.

  Confused, he turned to look down.

  Five steps from the platform were charred and blackened, the rest of the stairs completely gone. Under them, a pile of yellowed skeletons, with bits and pieces of meat fused to the bone.

  For a moment, the world was still for Deatt.

  His first thought was that he died and he was simply haunting the place of his demise. But he felt the wood he was lying on. He felt the strain on his body. He was not dead, he was not even turned, he was still Deatt.

  Painfully he took his leg out of the boot. There was a clear wound from the bite, still red and fairly fresh, though the only blood there had dried some time ago.

  He did not understand how he was able to stay himself, but he thanked nobody in particular as he laid his head back down.

  He did not have to die, not yet. Thought there still was a chance that it was slow-acting. Potentially, he could turn any minute. But he doubted that, he might not have known why, but he thought he was in a stable condition.

  He remembered his vices flashing through his mind, the weakness, the burning inside of him...burning...

  Even in his condition he quickly stood up and limped to the window to look in the direction where the manor used to be.

  The beautiful building was leveled to nothing. Debris and ash laid in piles between the blackened stone walls. Even the garden was covered in desolate scorched earth, only the fence stopping the consuming flames.

  Deatt watched the ruins with a single thought. That he hoped Nido and Evelynn were well on their way to Zenwall. They had to be.

  Now, rid of his impending doom, Deatt would have to join them there.

  Looking around the village from the vantage point of the church, Deatt saw no other turned on the road, or anywhere around for the matter. They must have burned a great number of them to nothing. In a way, they performed a great service for any other possible survivors yesterday.

  He climbed down the church with great effort. As the stairs were gone, he had to scale the wall of stone down slowly and methodically.

  Even slowed down as he was, he decided to take the safest route possible to Zenwall. He did have the supplies necessary for the trek already.

  Exhausted, pale and limping, he set off on his way.

  By the time Zenwall appeared on the horizon. Deatt got used to the pain in his right heel. He trained on the way, fearing that guards seeing a limping man might be hasty on their station.

  It still hurt like hell, but miraculously it seemed that he managed to clean the wound enough for no infection to take root. Explaining how he got the wound to a doctor would be awkward at best and life-ending at worst.

  The city was as he heard it described. Built around a surprisingly thin, but tall mountain, a circular wall of around twenty meters stood erected against the harshness of the outside.

  Though he always imagined the rock white and shiny, he could already see that it was the polar opposite. The black stone that the walls were made of showed great contrast against the white mountain, almost as if the black ring held the a white blade from falling.

  The surrounding empty plains meant that Deatt would have a harder time hiding from any hordes, but also that he would spot them quicker. Which he did right away.

  A horde of about twenty or so turned ran to the city, they covered the distance quickly. It seemed like the turned had an almost un-ending stamina. Other than the times Deatt caught them 'sleeping' they were always on the move, always running.

  As they moved closer to the city, suddenly a different wave of movement entered the plains. From the distance, Deatt had trouble discerning exactly what was happening, but the wave washed over the turned. It was men on horses, probably covered in armor. At least that was what Deatt deduced from the rays of sunlight glinting off of them.

  They left the cut turned on the road, turning back once their job was done.

  Deatt decided to use the opportunity to move closer to city.

  When he got to about half the way. He felt a familiar feeling welling inside of him. It was similar to when he was running away from guards in cities, loot in his pockets. He was followed.

  He turned quickly. Seeing another horde coming his way.

  He had nowhere to hide.

  Gritting his teeth he started to run.

  It was awkward and painful, and worst of all, it was slow. The wound and days of travel left him weak, too weak to outrun the untiring beasts.

  Then, to his surprise, the cavalry rode out once more. Riding past him, they once again butchered the turned.

  Now from up close, Deatt saw the precision in their moves. They were trained soldiers, finishing most turned in simple swings. Some turned survived through the strong blows, but not for long, for another swing came right when one ended.

  Deatt also noticed that none of the turned even tried to attack the horses, always going for their riders instead. Deatt thought that the turned would go for any meat, especially since he found no livestock in the villages they passed, but it seemed he was wrong.

  When the knights were done, they threw the bodies to the side of the road and got back up on their horses.

  Deatt foolishly thought that they might offer him a ride back to the city, but instead they passed him quickly, returning to their stations.

  "Name?" The man asked. His eyes were read and he seemed to struggle to even stay awake.

  "Numel."

  "Where from?"

  "Jirfort."

  "Occupation?" The man said, looking over Deatt with suspicion. Suddenly much more awake.

  "Fisherman."

  Deatt saw the man nod at the answer. It made sense, the only work in Jirfort was a fisherman, or a prison guard after all. Deatt decided that the fisherman would come with a much lower number of additional questions.

  "How did you manage to get here? To survive?"

  "Luck. I was just paddling back from an unsuccessful hunt. I saw fire and people...eating people. I am a cautious man you see? I decided not to return. Instead I came straight here. To where a wall would keep me safe."

  "That tends to be the reason nowadays." the man complained. Then he shifted a few papers around, signed others and stamped new ones. Then he handed a small piece of paper to him.

  "Here you go. The first night at the Fear Beer is free. Then you will have to start pulling your weight, or pay for it." he looked up and down Deatt. "Good luck finding the job."

  "I have a great collection of spoons I'll have you know". Is what Deatt had the urging to say.

  "Thank you." is what it whittled down to. "Sorry, but would you know if a half-orc with a blond woman passed here?"

  The man looked to the ceiling as if trying to think.

  "Doesn't ring any bells. Sorry."

  Deatt twitched at the mention of the bells. He was never a stout believer before, but he was sure to avoid churches for the time being.

  The iron gate next to him opened as the security waved to someone inside and he was let in.

  Zenwall seemed unaffected by the mayhem outside. The city bustled with activity, people hauled baskets of fresh fruit, presented their wares in tents or on blankets, children ran through the squares with sticks and guards patrolled the streets. If anything, there was a clear influx of people. Beggars littered the streets, some actively reached out to people in hopes of acquiring some coin, while other's sat by the walls. Their mind still consumed by the horror they so narrowly escaped.

  Deatt was pleasantly surprised by the one-day free lodging he had gotten, but it was obvious that it helped people, with trauma they could not walk off, none.

  He had no idea where the mentioned tavern was located, nor where anything was located for that matter. The city was entirely new to him, which was a breath of fresh air, though it did make him slightly uncomfortable. He would enjoy exploring the city to know the nooks and crannies needed for a safe passage wherever he wanted.

  But for now, he wanted to finally relax in a tavern. Maybe buy some drink. He would look for Nido and Evelynn the first thing in the morning.

  Deatt soon realized that his first stay in the city would not be a very luxurious one. The closer he managed to get to the inn, the more holes in the road, sick people and suspicious passersby he encountered. Slowly but surely, he made his way to the slums. Not that he minded that a whole lot, before prison he would call the Kitva's slums his own home.

  After asking a few guards and meeting a few dead ends, Deatt finally managed to find the right tavern. Fear Beer was a surprisingly great fit for the establishment. The moldy and wet wood under you threatened to break, the customers seemed ready to break you even further and the drink was so bitter it was about ready to finish you off.

  Deatt inhaled the smell of it all deeply and exhaled with a smile. The familiar scent of poor districts calming his mind.

  He walked up to the bar and handed hi one-day coupon to the bartender. The woman was girthy and short, but she moved about the bar with trained ease. Without looking away from the ticket, she started pouring from a few bottles straight into a glass. Creating a drink in a combination of five different spirits, topped with beer.

  "On the house." she said eyeing Deatt.

  He grasped the cup, the rim was chipped so he had to drink carefully if he wanted to keep the blood in his lips. It was awful, the drinks were of incredibly low quality, the consistency was surprisingly gluey and the whole drink almost smelled like piss. But it burned as it should and the aftertaste was not all that bad. He downed the drink and started coughing.

  "You seen...cough...a half-orc and a...blonde come into the tavern?"

  "That a start of a bad joke, or a serious question?" the woman replied, pouring beer to another customer.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  "The latter."

  "A shame, I like bad jokes. No, never saw nobody like that." she eyed him up and down, then she nodded. "Where you coming from?"

  "Jirfort."

  "Phew!" she whistled. "Heard the whole thing came crumbling down. You an escapee?"

  "No, I was just a fisherman." Deatt lied.

  "You are lucky to be alive then, sir..."

  "Numel."

  "Numel. Never heard the name. Always thought that people at Jirfort passed their own to the kids." Deatt noticed the unsaid question in the words. Either a shot at small-talk, or a wary test. He decided not to risk either. Plus it seemed like the barkeeper was eyeing him while making drinks. Maybe he was her type.

  "Thank you for the drink." He said and turned to go to his room.

  It was small, damp and the sheets were long unwashed, if they ever were in washed in the first place. Still, it was much better than what he had been sleeping in in Jirfort, maybe better than what he was sleeping in before too. He fell to the bed and closed his eyes. Exhausted.

  Deatt started to fear the worst. Nido and Evelynn were nowhere to be found. No tavern, inn, brothel ever heard of them or saw them. Deatt even went to the guard, but even they had no account of a half-orc entering the city in the last six months.

  He was completely lost, unable to think of a way to reach them. To add insult to injury, he was coin-less. All the money was in Nido's pack when they packed for the trip. Deatt still had the spoons, but he wanted to sell them only as a last resort. He had grown to like the needlessly posh pieces of cutlery.

  With no other choice at the moment, he turned to getting coin first. He could work, he was bound to find something paying well in such a big city. As opposed to the beggars, he was a man of many skills and it always took just a little convincing for him. Or he could go back to thieving.

  The thought immediately lifted his spirits a little, until it drowned them again. He never went thieving without Nido and he would not start now.

  So he moved about the city, trying to get the feel of the streets, as well as looking for people that might give him an odd job or two.

  Graveyard assistant, a scout, and too many contracts for bodyguards were the most numerous. But he could not accept either. It would either sent him away from where he had to look for his friends, or simply put him into too much danger to be considered seriously.

  While walking through a more shady part of the city, trying to find work of a more illegitimate kind, Deatt heard two men talking around the corner.

  "Did you hear about the new brute? A half-orc. Haven't seen one of them in a fight for a long time."

  "He is big big. I bet that he will do the Dancer in."

  "Ten says the green fucker gets a lashing. No matter the size, Dancer is just too agile. The stiff golem of meat has no chance."

  "I raise you twenty that he wins under two minutes."

  "Of course! Why did he not think of this sooner? What would Nido want to do after having a rough couple days to went his frustration? Beat someone into a pulp! The question was where."

  Deatt saw his chance and decided to move closer to the men.

  "Hello gentlemen."

  The two men slowly turned their heads at him, one moved his hand to his belt and moved his coat, revealing a shiny dagger.

  "Get the fuck out dimwit."

  "Don't be alarmed! I just heard you betting and the great vice it is, I could not but help but try to join. What do you say? Three to one. If I win, I only get a third, if you do, you get thrice what you wager."

  The men turned to each other, smiled slyly and nodded.

  "Alright little man, what's your wager?"

  "Sixty pieces that the green guy wins."

  "I don't know. That kind of wager seems a tad unspecific." the man tried to act thoughtful as he stroke his beard. They were trying to pull him for sure. Lead him into such a specific bet as to be almost impossible. That tactic was as old as the world itself.

  "Plus, I bet that the match will end with a left hook, right on the jaw."

  The men acted as if they were still deciding, but Deatt knew he had them on the hook the moment he finished the sentence.

  "Since this is your first time, we'll be nice and accept that." one of them said.

  "Wonderful! Then if we are in agreement gentlemen, why don't you lead the way?"

  "Sure." the men turned and started walking.

  Deatt heard their badly hidden laughter as they walked. They thought he lost already. Unaware that he knew their big green beast better than anybody.

  Thankfully, the men actually lead them to an underground arena as opposed to slicing his neck open on the way. He was lucky.

  The arena, for his own surprise, was located right under the Fear Beer. He walked through the bar, the barkeeper still eyeing him suspiciously. She let him in only because he was with the men, Deatt was sure. He still did not understand why she was so careful around him, but he decided to unravel that mystery later. If he ever got around to it.

  He travelled through a small tunnel, that uncomfortably reminded him of the narrow hallways in the prison. He half-expected a wave of turned to appear before them, but thankfully, none actually appeared.

  Then the tunnel opened to a surprisingly wide open space.

  The walkway around the arena was wide and made out of stable stone, with iron railing to his waist. Underneath him was a big arena, empty save for a few piles of debris and stone. The ground was covered in stale blood and was uneven.

  There were more entrances around the catwalk, probably coming from other similar establishments. Then there was something Deatt assumed to be a VIP zone.

  It was higher than the catwalk, but Deatt could still see that the furniture there was of a much different quality than the plank benches on the catwalk. Like a lounge, a long leather couch span around the entirety of the room. Though it was empty at the moment

  As he looked around the open space, he noticed a bunch of security walking and standing around, including a different half-orc.

  Now Deatt thought that his plan was once again a bit hasty. The half-orc was smaller than Nido, but his presence already meant that there were more around here than just his friend.

  Even though the security and guard mentioned that no half-orc passed the borders to the city, Deatt was not surprised before. He was a normal human, with brown hair, eyes and a fairly average looking face. He could easily hide and pretend to be someone else. Nido did not have the luxury. Half-orcs were not exactly rare, but they were not common either, especially on this part of the continent. Deatt assumed from the start that Nido will try to smuggle himself in somehow. He just hoped that he was lucky enough to guess the method first try.

  What came as the most unexpected, was the fact that the man brought him before a betting clerk to officiate the bet. For all the weird paths and underground tunnels they took and for the simple fact that the arena was literally underground, he thought that it would be illegal. Nido must definitely love the city.

  He leaned against the railing, waiting for the fight to start. The two men opted to do the same from both his sides. Deatt had no plans to go running if he was wrong, but their inconspicuous pressure made it clear it would be a bad idea anyway.

  Finally, a bald man walked into the arena, holding a curved sword up high. Suddenly, the arena turned quiet.

  "Ladies and gentlemen and battle-lovers of all races! Today, I have the pleasure of having something special to show you." He pointed with the sword to one of the giant doors at the end of the arena.

  "The man that cleaved through two dozen man without a scratch. The fencing virtuoso and one of the esteemed guards of our patron. I welcome the mythical Dancer!" a rowdy cheer erupted around the arena, the fans shouting their enthusiasm for their fighter.

  The doors opened and a man instantly rushed out of the waiting room. He ran around the arena with a blitz, his long blond hair flowing behind him. With graceful moves, he slid and jumped around the arena, showcasing his control.

  "The name fits." Deatt thought. The 'Dancer' as they called him performed a number of flips and pirouettes around the arena. He must have had elven heritage, at least Deatt thought. Deatt thought himself fairly agile, definitely more than most, but he did not hold a candle to the agility of the man before him.

  As he performed his song and dance, Deatt took a look around the room again. It was not that he could not appreciate the skill needed for the stunts, it was the opposite. He started to feel a little jealous.

  The VIP room immediately took his attention. The seats were now filled with a bunch of expensively looking dressed people, all holding goblets of wine. Except the man in the middle. He wore an iron mask, hiding his face. Dressed in black from head to toe, it was hard to distinguish any particular features about him as well.

  "On the other end of the arena!" The bald man took his attention again. "No human could have his strength, walls crumble under the pressure of his stare and mountains move from his path!"

  Deatt started to suspect that the entrance quotes were written by the challengers themselves. This had Nido written all over it.

  "It is my pleasure to welcome. The Nimble Dominator!"

  "Nimble Dominator? Really? This is what happens when I am not there to help him." Deatt thought, a slight smile forming on his face.

  Nido walked onto the arena with a scowl and burrowed brows. If Deatt did not know him, the act might have actually worked. But whenever he saw his friend act this serious, he could not help but laugh.

  Nido decided to have his own performance for the crowd. Walking to the pile of stones closest to him, he picked up the biggest of the bunch and hauled it above his head. Then he threw it at the bald man. The big rock fell only a little distance before the man, making the man fall to the ground in shock.

  The arena laughed at that moment, making Nido break the character and laugh along.

  The bald man frowned at him but decided not to pursue the matter. Instead turning to the crowd once again.

  "Strength or speed? Brute or Dancer? We will see who wins tonight! Hold your bet tickets close and be prepared to lose your mind, because the fight just started!"

  A gong echoed through the arena announcing the start of the battle and the Dancer was already moving.