Worldbreakers: Origins

Episode 1: Outbreak

"Run!" Shouted Darius, sprinting away from the bears, picking up another dagger from the ground. "Free the others!" Everyone else started running, unlocking all the iron cages holding the prisoners. Darius was just a few meters from the main entry when it exploded open. Standing there were more arena guards, weapons raised, and another war-bear. Darius backed up a few steps, clutching his daggers. The other prisoners slowly formed a tight circle, ready to fight. "We've come this far." Darius said. "We're not giving up now."

Half an hour earlier:

"Move it, whelps." A man pushed a group of people of a variety of different races forward into a small room with wooden walls. The ground was simply dirt and grass, and there was no ceiling. Above was a bright blue sky, with a few clouds. There were two gates, one leading outside into the wilderness, and one leading into a huge courtyard, in the shape of a circle. The walls of the courtyard were lined with people, all looking inside. It was an arena. They were wearing mostly rags, but had some armour, and wielded rusted, beaten weapons. They moved forward silently. "When that gate opens, you fight until you die. Those who don't fight will be slaughtered." The man walked out of the back gate, leaving the people to get ready to fight.

"This is ridiculous!" A rugged, deep voice shouted. An Orc. Big, green, and tribal creatures. He wore a ragged cloth tunic and held a wooden staff. "I say we should just run."

"Were you paying attention at all? They've got guards everywhere!" Exclaimed a Human man, who was wearing scraps of dark leather armour, a dagger strapped to his side.

A Dwarf spoke up. He wore armour made from rusted chains, and had a small blunderbuss beside him. "I hate to say this, but I agree with the Orc." He gestured to the Orc, who grunted in response. "We outnumber them. Or, at least the ones right outside the gate, anyways. We should kill them and run before anyone else can catch up."

"No." Said the Human. "They've got archers on the wall, and people patrolling the area. We need to wait until nightfall."

"I'm not sure if we'll make it to nightfall." Said another Human, wearing bits of armour made from metal plates, and wielding a warhammer. "We're up against people who've been fighting in the arena for years. If we don't go now, we'll die in there." She pointed to the other gate, and the chaos reigning on the other side. Beyond the wooden gate was the arena. There were at least twenty people in there at the moment, all fighting for their lives.

A new voice started speaking, one with a thick Etergreen accent. "So, we need to run, but not right outta the front door." The voice belonged to a Scrof, a humanoid-boar people. She wore leather armour with tribal markings, and gripped a long spear. "I've been here before. There be a hidden trapdoor. In the arena. It be leadin' outside."

"You don't think they'll see us?" Asked the Dwarf. "I mean, everyone will be watching us out there." Everyone else nodded and looked at the Scrof, curious.

"Inside the trapdoor is a lever. Pull it, and spikes cover the bottom, makin' it impossible to follow. The guards will be havin' to run to the other exit. Thing is, the tunnel leads under a mountain. They'll have to go all the way around." She looked at the others, her rusty brown fur gleaming in the sunlight.

"Does everyone agree?" The man with the dagger asked. Before anyone could answer, the gate creaked open, a guard outside.

"Too late to disagree." Mumbled the dwarf.

A voice boomed over the arena. "The Mercenaries are victorious once again! Who can stop them? One group of ruffians are up to the challenge! Enter, and watch their fates unfold!" Thousands of people cheer, and the guard pushes the prisoners out into the arena. On the other side are a group of people dressed in the same kind of armour. Scraps, barely functional.