The Royal Defender of Soulsquall
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"The fetid air of the arena stinks of rot and death, As it always does folks here in The Soulsquall Arena. Just the way we like it." The crowd roared as the announcer grinned and continued to speak "Tonight we have a special treat for you today, purchased from the finest royal dragon armory The Royal Defender. The MOST expensive fighter in our ranks. Designed for excessive force as a royal dragons personal guard, it offers a wider array of more offensive countermeasures than it's infamous counterpart. Purchased with quite a shiny bunch of dark crystals, fully customized to engage our enemies, And all the more illegal. But what part of this is?"
The announcer smiled and embellished all of his words with the grandest motions and gestures. The luster of his violet armor glinted in the low torches and death magic candles. The Royal Defender, who had previously been merely towering in the arena glittering lightly in the dim spectral lighting, began whirring, coughed and hummed. It woke from its slumber and bellowed smoke from it's 4 smoke stacks centered on its shoulders. It's eyes lit up and it waved its many deadly appendages and jerkily angled itself around to find "newly defined" targets.
The crowd laughed in the Soulsquall arena at the joke; the sort of joke they liked here. A fruit hanging so low it was rotting from the inside out like most of the beings here. In this dark foreboding castle surrounded by deadly whipping screaming soulstorms and gnarly dark briars. A nefarious place where illegal gladiator fights, soul harvesting, body amalgamations, and the screams of the innocent were all commonplace. Any gladiator that died lost his soul and body. To be used and experimented upon for potentially all time. Or become part of one of the soul storms crackling among the parapets if you aren't a willing "participant". Buying, beguiling, and stealing "participants" for the grand festivities. An indulgence for the most profane practices for the wealthiest eternals. How could one beguile or trick someone to participate in this hell you might ask? A wish. Oh yes, a single wish. It is offered to entice anyone, but with 1 condition. That they would have to win 100 fights in the arena. Confidence, pride, honor, love, and greed are powerful things and the arena is never empty.
"BEHOLD! Look at it's glorious splendor! And what more fitting to fight this mountain of murderous metallic machination, but out champion. None other than Soulsquall's very own, dreaded dragon slave, the spell slinging spearmaster of the sun-soaked Draykh-Nahka sands, and even angrier than ever. Because tonight folks, Tonight is his last night with us in this arena." the announced paused and the audience as if cued let out a melancholic "Awwwwwwww". after a moment the announcer resumed
"One way or another. Free with 1 wish or .... hehe ...all, BUT free. In his 100th battle, which as you know folks no cough living * cough * fighter has EVER come close to. The undefeated, the undaunting, the unflinching killer.... Arak the Executioopneeeeeer." The announcer belted out as he swung his arms over his head for emphasis, all the while the crowd began to roar as metal barred gates began to descend on two sides of the arena revealing foreboding black entrances. The air was tense with anticipated violence, the elementals and skeletons that filled the stands roared. From one of the entrances emerged a bright blue naga. It slithered quickly to the stage. So fast in fact that various onlookers in the first few rows were rather startled. Equipped with a many pronged quadrent and a cracked shield. Clad in dried leather and a murmillo helmet. The naga coiled and scoured the arena, maintaining a cautious defensive pose. Awaiting the first strike. The gaze of the automaton and gladiator met and both remained still. The crowd continued roaring for a while stopped and waiting in silence. If they in fact drew breath, it would be bated in suspense. All that could be heard were the clicks of various machinations within the defender. A whirring sound grew louder and louder from the construct, it was preparing to strike. Arak grew rigid, coiled and ready to spring in any which direction.
This was going to be Arak's final fight, one way, or another....
Arak the Executioner
Arak's earliest memory was of a coin purse being exchanged with a dark elemental and a shifty dragon in a dark cloak with scales the brightest red, after that he could remember vomiting from the smell in his early days at Soulsquall. The dark gladiator pens, the odor of death wafting ever constantly from the arena. At some point his body learned to not smell the putrid odor of rot and decay in quite the same manner. Once he was able to he to hold a weapon he was taught to swing it, by some of the other gladiators. Some from pity, others merely to cut the tension they had from waiting to fight. However, his teachers would change and some would not be there very long to give lessons. Not understanding the full scope of his situation, Arak merely thought this was how his training was supposed to go for when he would eventually be out in the world. In fact it was all of these gladiators showing pity on the young naga that has been forced to live it's life here in these wretched depths, knowing that his destiny was to fight and die in this arena. Whereas a lot of these contestants are here of their own accord, or at least knew a life before this place. Whether for vanity, pride, pity, or kindness overtime Arak developed both skills in magic and combat from various walks of life. Things continued on and they began to call him Arak. It was a human who called him that first "Ye look like an Arak" he said. And the name soon stuck. He liked it, a name, all his own. He asked the human what his name was too "Why I'm Janus, you'll be seeing me again" he said with a wide grin. Arak was a mere child held in the gladiator cells, no light, no fresh air, but also (for the moment) no battle. Some of the gladiators that Arak had come to know eventually stopped coming back. All but Janus, Janus Carnus, the one who trained the young naga the longest. He called him "kiddo" and told him of his Lyverian life and family before the arena. He told Arak of his son, and how the little naga reminded him of the family he had left behind. "They'll be there when I come back, I just have to do something here first" he would always say. Janus and Arak grew close, they could even occasionally find laughter in that squalid dungeon.
Until ,after many months, he too began to stop returning. Arak grew in size and stature and continued to train the way the gladiators had taught him, not knowing exactly why these skills were handy. As none of his mentors had stayed with him in the gladiator pens.
Until one day one of the Skeletons who guarded the cells skoffed during the daily inspection. "Ehhh? That one there? Has he fought yet?" he said pointed squarely at Arak. "No, not yet" replied the other guard leaning on his shield. "Then methinks today's the day" the first guard said as he opened the door and grabbed Arak ran a short distance and tossed him into the ring dimly lit by candles.
Before Arak could protest an undead minotaur was charging towards him, wildly swinging it's axes in deft cleaves and splitting arcs. Arak slunk beneath the minotaur, far below where he could swing and slithered up his back. Opening his maw to the limit Arak bit down bringing all his teeth full bore into the undead creatures neck severing the spine with a sharp snap. The minotaur didn't die, it merely lay on the ground grunting in anger that it's bloodlust could not be whet. The crowd who expected the minotaur to at least take down one or two slaves. They gasped, and then after a moment of silence began to cheer. This was the first of many fights. Arak now knew what the gladiators were teaching him, to merely survive.
TO BE CONTINUED IN THE SECOND TOURNAMENT OF THE SERIES ANNOUCEMENT: ARAK THE EXECUTIONER TOURNAMENT
The Above Image has been augmented by AI
Argonm Unsealed Tournament: Preentry Has Finally Started
If you have been following me on twitter and hive then you might already be aware of the Argonm Unsealed Tournament. If you aren't following me consider doing so. I offer strategy tips, giveaways, tournaments, memes, guides, and more! Today I will announce the official prizes and tournament scheme for the Argonm the Unsealed tournament and the future of this tournament series. Join the Discord here for your Preentry or just to chat and hangout. The Prize for the Argonm Unsealed Tournament will be Vigilator Delegation for 15 days. That's right! 15 days with the deadly dragon card if you win this lvl 1 summoner and monster tournament. Do you have what it takes? Entry will be sit-n-go with 24 hours to fill your lineups. The top 5 contestants would win an Argonm's Seal. Allowing entry into a grand tournament at the end of these series of tournaments. The tournament itself will be later this month. Giving all of you time to prepare. If you want to speed up your preentry message me on discord here cryptoniusrex#0742 Discord here If you wish to participate it will be 100 DEC to enter if attended by 20 people, and decreased further per early entry participant (the more people the less everyone pays for entry, ideally going closer to zero if enough people have interest). Message me in discord for preentry and once enough people are interested the tournament will launch and you will receive an invite in your discord mailbox.
Giveaway Winners
I was rather occupied with all that is happening in Splinterlands and in the real world at the moment. But about a week ago I announced 2 giveaways in my Electric Eel battle and strategy posts here and here. Those winners are 
This Weeks Giveaway
This week until the payout of this post anyone who likes AND comments on this post has a chance to be delegated an undead minotaur for 15 days. Attacking 2 times in the right ruleset can be the brutal difference between victory and defeat. Don't forget to follow for more cool stuff!
Keep Summoning and See You in the #Splinterlands