I'm a writer, and a Brony
I do a lot of Roleplays on the side, which does distract me from writing at times...Anyhoof, I'll be sure to get most chapters in on time from now on.
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The Lost Prophecy: Beginnings
It was mid-noon by the time everypony had gathered in the arena, or as the competitors called it, “The Blood Bath”: a large area that seated thousands upon thousands of spectators, all of whom gathered to watch warriors fight to the death in tournaments and competitions. The owner of the arena walked forward to the main pillar that overlooked the arena down below. “Greetings! And welcome to the match of the century!” The crowd roared in approval and the stage master smiled. “Today my friends, we witness the final battle of veteran fighter Leadith of Eucadia!” The crowd was even louder this time around, “But! This is not a usual fight! No…He must fight an entire team on his own! And if he survives, he wins his FREEDOM!”
Meanwhile, down in the keep, Leadith was putting together his leather bounds of armor and sharpening his sword. His final battle…his only chance to escape captivity and return home. He looked up at the small barred window that the sun shined through. “My one chance…I’m not going to mess this up.” He muttered to himself.
Lead turned to the approach of hoof steps and saw the guards that were going to escort him to the arena. “You’d better win Leadith, I bet ninety bits on you.” The first said, Leadith grinned. “I told you two to call me Lead….And I plan on winning.” He said with a confident smirk as he stood up and hoofed his weapon over to them per protocol.
The two took him up the stairs and over to his entrance gate, but something else happened this time. The guards gave him his weapon, and a small dart. “What’s this for?” Lead asked looking towards the two, and one guard piped up “It’s a special toxin extract from the Manticorian Desert.” Lead quirked an eyebrow. “And…?” The Guard looked at him with a smirk. “It can be used multiple times to finish them off quickly…And it’s legal too. Good luck…Lead…” With that the two guards departed and closed the bars behind him. Lead’s fate was now in the hands of luck, and by hell he hoped he had some good luck today.
The sun blinded Lead momentarily, but he quickly adjusted. The crowd was going crazy, one stallion versus an entire platoon worth, and a lot of ponies were betting against Lead. But there were also a bunch betting FOR him. Lead wasn’t an amateur fighter, and the only reason he wound up in the Arena was because he got into so many fights in the jail which he got dumped into after being captured a year back. Lead stood proud and strong, determination on his face and vengeance in his crimson red eyes. He raised his sword to the air which drove the crowd crazy, then he lowered it as the drum began to beat, signaling the beginning of the “Blood Bath.”
The first group of colts rushed Lead. These colts wore no armor whatsoever aside from some light clothing. They had small, sharp knives which wouldn’t do much to Lead’s armor, but on skin it would make a mess. Lead readied himself and brought the first colt down by tripping him and diving the sword through his neck, and the second one was greeted by hind hoof and then the sword boring into his chest. The third hesitated, which was really his biggest mistake as now Lead turned, faced him, and took one of the knives from his fallen comrade and threw it into the spot in-between his eyes. Lead thrust his sword into the air, as he’d defeated the first wave with ease.
The second wave consisted of more stallions with more armor, and of course bigger swords, including a guy with a bow. Lead growled under his breath, “Let’s dance ladies.” The one with the bow let loose an arrow, but Lead had moved by then and was already by one of the colts with the swords. Lead worked hard to jam the sword though his iron chest plate to pierce his heart underneath, and with that, Lead pulled his sword free and took the down fighter’s shield. Lead brought it up just in time to avoid getting an arrow through the skull and the follow-up sword. He made a quick movement to kick the other colt in the knee, breaking it, then drove his sword through his exposed neck. Two fighters remained, one more swords-colt, and the other one with the bow. Lead and the other colt clashed with a thundering crash. Lead was a big stallion, but this colt was bigger, and Lead wound up being punched across the face, but in the blood rage, Lead yanked him closer and narrowly managed, due to pure luck, to have the bow-wielding pony shoot an arrow through his comrade’s skull. Lead tossed the body aside and began to move in on the final target. “Come and fight!” Lead hissed, but was only greeted by the one with the bow back pedaling and falling over. The helmet came off to reveal a mare underneath, and she dropped the bow and shook in fear. Lead felt a sense of regret, but he wasn’t about to let her become his downfall, so he raised his sword and brought it down into her neck, severing her head from her body. The bloodthirsty crowd gave an approving roar as they watched Lead dispatch the final target of wave 2.
Lead looked towards the main gate as it slowly opened itself to reveal the biggest test he has yet to face: a large manticore, easily three times the size of Lead. Lead looked at the beast from a distance, then reached into his pouch and looked at the dart. He picked up the bow and an arrow from the corpse of the mare, puts the dart onto the arrowhead. His sword would be useless against the manticore, so he only had one shot.
The manticore growled, locked onto Leadith and began to close the gap. Lead held his ground for a few moments and let the arrow fly. Time seemed to slow as the arrow sailed through the air in silence before it met its target right where Lead intended it: the jugular vein.
Lead lost color in his face as the manticore didn’t even break stride. “Oh by the name of Luna WHY did I trust-” Lead didn’t finish the sentence as the Manticore stopped, let out a loud whine then fell to its side. Lead walked over and poked it with his blade and the Manticore… was dead.
The entire arena erupted into cheers and celebration as Lead, against all odds, prevailed and won the tournament. Lead looked around with pride as roses were tossed, and he picked up a single rose and sniffed it. He then looked at one of the mares in the spectator’s area and tossed it to her, resulting in a mad scramble by all the other mares. Lead sheathed the sword and went back to the exit, where he was met by the two guards, who grinned and patted him on the back. “First rounds on us mate!”
Before Lead could go to the tavern he needed to meet up with the Stage Master, who congratulated him and shook his hoof. Not only had Lead won his freedom, but he won access to the arena’s armory and was told to pick a set of armor and blade of his choice.
Lead arrived downstairs and looked over the racks of different armor, finally setting his gaze on a silver set with golden trim. It came with no helmet, but that was no issue. Lead couldn’t find any blade that truly spoke to him, so he took a basic steel sword of medium length and a matching shield for his armor. Lead nodded to the Stage Master. “My friend…I fought, I lived, and I’ll never forget all the times you bailed me out.” Lead smiled and shook hooves with the Stage Master. “Safe travels Leadith, I hope you find your family once again.” Lead smiled and nodded once more before leaving the Arena. He was finally free… and it was time to redeem that drink.