8 Warrior Training.

"Welcome!"
The slave master climbed out from beneath the floorboards of the ship. Pure radiance illuminated the streets and paths before him, the shadow of the sails behind him slowly thinning away. The sailors plopped down a wooden bridge against the planks of the dock. They swarmed around getting the vessel into the proper state before docking. As the ropes were knotted and properly fastened, the anchor sinking into the abyss and the sails safely put away, all the passengers disembarked. Some were welcomed by familiar faces and warm embraces, others gathered their belonging on their shoulders and drifted into the markets.

As Eight stepped off the ship, he noticed two major paths. The illuminated main road before him leading to a glorious building of marble, perhaps this was the Colosseum he had heard so much about. It seemed to be at the epicenter of the city. However, there seemed to be a nearby path that lead into the alleyways. Despite there being numerous alternate routes and the like, this path seemed to welcome much traffic. He could smell the unsavory choices in the air coming down that road.

While normally his cup of tea, ever since he had transformed into this sort of creature. His typical tastes were quite twisted, but perhaps now his mind was untangled. Despite all the past corruption in his life, perhaps he could turn over a new leaf.

[234/2000]

With every step towards the monument to one-on-one combat, the silhouette became uncovered as the sun peaked over it. This very building had brought some feelings of dejavu for the slave master. However his repressed memories only bubbled beneath the surface momentarily before disappearing back into the recesses of his mind. His heart had taken over, beating like a drummer boy. The sound of glory as he marched echoed from his chest to his ears, from his ears the feeling crept over his lips into a genuine smile.

"WELCOME!" A character shouted hidden behind a crowd of people at the very entrance. "COME ONE, COME ALL. TEST YOUR SKILLS AGAINST THE COLOSSEUM. A NIGHT OF AMATEURS, PROVE TO YOURSELF AND ALL OF REIM WHAT YOU ARE CAPABLE OF!" The words stirred the slavers heart. The source of his emotional evocation, was a head shorter than himself and dressed in a type of crimson coat with several embellishments. The man was beaming with confidence, despite being short of stature and quite rotund. His hands at what you would have to call his waist, elbows out.

The person had definitely caught Eight's attention. The main attraction began scanning the crowd for something to fish out. To bring something out that hadn't quite revealed itself yet.

[447/2000]

His hand reached outward and upward towards the leader. "Ah! Is that a volunteer I see?" He parted the crowd to let Eight come forward. "Ah, definitely someone who will bring some excitement to the arena. I've never seen a person like you, you seem like you've been around. Sure you must know how to handle yourself on the battlefield!" The rotund ringleader started walking, prowling the edges of the crowd to create a sort of clearing for his guest. The ringleader extending his hand to the center of the circle to guide the newcomer.

"Yes, but I really like your style. I want to try using-" His eyes glanced toward the man, as the pause caught everyone's attention, as a finger pointed to the whip, curled into a holster sewn onto the ringmasters coat. "Hahaha, what a brave man. Please do. Feel free to use any whip you should see. We have a new competitor for the Colosseum. TONIGHT, COME EXPLORE THE MYSTERY OF THE GREEN GLADIATOR."

[615/2000]

Eight had returned to the Colosseum for his amateur night bout. There were people waiting for him at the entrance, and they ushered him in, explaining what the bout entailed, the schedule and the map of the Colosseum. He was allowed to practice with the weapons in the subterranean corridors surrounding the arena. There were torches that lit the path, and on the cobblestone walls, there were racks upon racks of weaponry, bonafide arsenal. While there were plenty of swords, axes, spears and shields on the wall, along the floor were an assortment of atypical weapons, such as nets, sickles, foreign weapons but there it was. The weapon that had caught his eye in the first place; the whip. Eight placed his fingers on the handle and brought the whip back, but it was unwieldy in his grasp. He swung his arm, but the leather wouldn't crack or anything, it was like a cooked noodle, limping about. He brought his hand back again and swung the weapon faster, but it would just flop about. He tried to recall how the entertainer was employing the lash, but it was very vague and all of his memory was focused on the feeling of the impact. The whip was travelling too fast for his eyes, not allowing him to understand the mechanics behind the weapon. Eight heard roars from the crowd for the third time, signaling the end of the last fight before his own. He looked a little anxious behind his typically collected face, debating if he should bring something a bit more traditional.

[877/2000]

Eight wouldn't keep the crowd waiting, and he would standby at his mark at the gates of the Colosseum with the handle of the leather whip in his hands. In the shadows, he could still make out what was being said. The ringmaster from earlier was igniting the crowd. "THIS IS OUR A FINAL BOUT, A MATCH BETWEEN TWO BEASTS." Drawing the crowds attention to the caged door across the arena from his location. There was even a spotlight, a man maneuvering a flame reflected by mirrors in the crowd to add a sense of dramaticism and flair to the event. Under the light, on cue was a mighty roar; the cry of a king. The cage door was lifted, the pulleys creaking beneath the weight. A lion crawled out to take center stage, prowling around the perimeter of the arena, as the ring master backed away towards the wall to make room and get out of danger.

"AND HERE IS THE CHALLENGER TO THE KING." Swinging his open hand towards 8, the spotlight following close behind. The opening sequence mirrored that one, but now the metal lifting before his head on a chain winch and pulley system rumbled the ground beneath his feet, almost a deafening baritone pitch. He stepped forward, the whip in his hand leaving a slithering trail in the terrain behind him reminiscent of a snakes tail. Eight brought the length of the whip to rest into his other hand and snapped them apart.

[1125/2000]

The lion and Eight were lined up face to face. *Crack, the whip struck the ground between them like lightning, with a thunderous roar. The battle had started and Eight tried to imitate the same strike with his own whip. His movement was more fluid and the lion retreated, leaping backward. Having experience with the weapon and respect for it. But the weapon just wobbled forward, and managed to lay limp against the floor momentarily. The lion keen with its experience took the moment to counter attack, pouncing on the dragging whip with its hindlegs and then clawing at Eight with its melon-sized paws. The feline claws tearing into eight, spilling his blood over the battlefield.

[1241/2000]

Due to his dungeon beast transformation, the damage of the physical blow was cut in half. His feet would glide across the floor, as if skating on the ground, leaving a small trail of slime behind. Eight swung the whip around, rotating his wrist above his head, similar to a windmill over his head. Eight was growing frustrated, even with this technique, while better than what he has been doing this whole time. It had none of the impact or power of a true wielder of the weapon. As it twirled over head, he inched closer without moving his feet off the ground, and used the whip to slice vertically at the lion, catching it off guard and landing a single strike. The attack was quickly shrugged off as the lion re-positioned while roaring for intimidation.

[1377/2000]

The lion charged at Eight with full speed, mouth open as wide as possible. As the fangs closed in, Eight brought the whip back up with his wrist in a quick motion. *crack Finally! He pulled it off, the Lion dodged to the side at the sound and sight of the weapon being used correctly, but the strike was completely off target. A stroke of luck. The lion came around with a second pounce to drive its fang into Eight's arm. He was getting a bit anxious but he still reacted quickly, sacrificing the leather whip as a pole to stop the lion from shitting its jaws on his appendage.

[1487/2000]

Eight was finally starting to get into the groove and now that he had managed to get the whip to work just once. It felt almost as an extension of his movement. The elasticity and flexibility of the whip was almost like slime, his very essence. Still accustomed to being human, but now he was so much more than that. Eight was an ooze overlord and he was making progress in his life and was practically turning over a new leaf. With a weapon in hand, he would be able to progress and perhaps find a new beast to tame.

Eight turned on his slip and slide feet and started gliding on the floor alongside the wall. On the wall, an arsenal of weapons were mounted. His eyes focused on finding another flexible weapon. When he had spotted a perfect replacement, a whip of pure iron chain links.

After trying to gnaw on the whip handle and violently shaking its head the lion managed to snap the handle in half and resumed on the prowl to try to catch Eight. Invigorated by the cat and mouse game, feeling as if it had the upper edge. Eight pivoted, still gliding on the floor, his hand extending backwards and his arm snapping right at the lion's face. The wave of force traveled through the chain links, refining as it reached the peak. Then all at once the whip flung at supersonic speeds, breaking the wind barrier. The snap cutting cleanly through the lion's maw, vertically bisecting its muzzle. The lion roared out in pain, but the exertion only made the bleeding worse. The roar caused the lion to sputter blood, as it began to fade from consciousness, and after a few steps trying to maintain its balance. Until it collapsed and plopped on the ground, an examiner came to inspect the dead body.

"AND THE WINNER IS EIGHT THE LION SLAYER." The crowd erupted in cheer, everyone was going wild with excitement, never having quite seen the sheer force of a whip in combat, only by tamers threatening and pushing back beasts. Eight mastering the whip in a single battle despite all of his mistakes. He was ready to take it to the next level, obtaining a whip of his own to the exact order he would desire, with the correct materials.

He was escorted off stage and was given some winning, and spoke to some of the other gladiators. All of them were equally impressed with his performance, giving him tips, not only on how to control the whip but also how to improve his body. The gladiators seemed to mention his potential, and his body was more reserved for the purpose of magoi, while still having the physical ability to wield a weapon. The gladiators encouraged him to continue on this path, but using light weapons with a lot of force would suit him best, such as a dagger or knuckles, complimenting his physique while allowing him to use his skill and technique, and eventually to combine with the use of magoi manipulation to make him a top class warrior.

[2000/2000]