They headed down the hallway, once more collecting prisoners. By the time they were ready to depart the dungeons, they had six people in total. Most of them were somber but Toth kept grinning and bumbling about.
As the gates were hauled open, Toth began badgering the wardens. "Wow, I haven't seen these stairs since I first came down here. Do you guys clean them often?"
The wardens didn't say anything. They led their charges past the gate and started their ascent.
"Cleaning these must be a pain. Hey, do you guys make good money? Do you think I could become a warden someday?"
The warden continued to say nothing.
"I'd be a pretty good warden. I'm big and strong. My mom says I'm going to keep getting bigger and stronger. I'm only fifteen, you know. Just wait until I'm your age, I'll be twice your size."
The warden shook his head and kept walking.
"I'm already bigger than Roran and he's a couple years older than me. But he was also poor. His mom was a whore but she's dead now."
"Hey Toth," said Sephyr.
"Yeah Seph?"
"Shut up."
"I was just making small talk."
"Shut up or I'll hit you."
Toth rolled his eyes. "Fine. You're too sensitive Seph."
The warden breathed a sigh of relief and they finished the climb in silence. Once they were back in the labyrinth of hallways, the warden led them through a series of twists and turns. By the third turn, Roran realized that he knew where he was. He didn't know exactly which hallway he was in, but he had a rough idea and began predicting where they would turn and when.
"Wow, this place is a maze," said Toth. "Do you guys have a map or something to find your way around?"
Silence.
"Aw come on, I was just asking-"
There was a loud thwack as Sephyr thumped Toth.
"Ouch! Fine, I'll stop talking. You really need to grow up Seph."
The warden led them to a familiar room full of battered and worn equipment.
"You have half an hour to gear up and prepare yourselves," said the warden. "A few more wardens will come in to assist. Good luck."
Roran went straight for the nearest pile and began digging through it. He wanted to find a close match to the sword and shield he'd used in the last round. If nothing else the familiarity would give him confidence.
"Are there any bows and arrows?"
Roran looked up to see Sephyr talking to one of the wardens that had come in to assist the refugees with equipping themselves. Glancing around, Roran was disappointed to find that Chase wasn't there.
"No ranged projectile weapons are allowed in the Crucible matches," said the stony faced warden.
"What about axes or hatchets?" asked Sephyr.
"Over there along the wall." The warden led him over to a selection of rusty axes piled up in a corner.
"Oh wow, now this is a sword!" In another corner of the room, Toth was hefting the biggest sword he could find. "I could cut a man in half with this."
One of the wardens looked at him, shook his head, and said nothing.
"Oh wait, this one is bigger!" Toth discarded the broadsword for one that was even bigger and more unwieldy.
Roran went back to digging through his own pile of gear. He managed to find a square buckler and another short sword. This one was in worse repair than the one he'd used in the first match, but it looked good enough. It would have to be.
In what must have been the shortest half hour of Roran's life, the refugees were herded towards the door and lined up, ready to be shoved out onto the killing field.
"This is so exciting," said Toth, with the biggest, rustiest, broadsword Roran had ever seen heaved over his shoulder. "We're going to win so many favors. Everyone is going to praise us for being heroes. Well, they'll praise me and Seph, nobody ever praises you Roran. You should really try to be more likeable."
Roran didn't bother responding to Toth's inane babbling. His palms were sweating and he readjusted his grip on the sword. Thankfully, the buckler was physically attached to his shoulder or he'd be at risk for dropping that too.
One of the wardens gave a signal and a door opened. Light flooded the stairwell and they all surged forward, rushing up the stairs. Roran shielded his eyes and took a deep breath as they stumbled out into the arena. Fresh air. Sweet fresh air and sunshine. It tasted so sweet that he almost laughed. Once more the rumble of the arena vibrated through him as the crowd cheered.
As Roran reveled in his return to the surface, his companions stumbled around blindly, shielding their eyes and adjusting to the bright sky above them. They winced when the announcer made his aural appearance.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to another round in the Crucible!"
Roran tuned him out and began scanning the arena, appraising the other fighters. The first person he found was Kell. She looked the same as before, in her light armor and carrying her spear. Catching his gaze, Kell grinned at him and tossed him a wink. Roran swallowed. She would be expecting her answer.
He also saw Duran, the massive boulder of a man, carrying his giant hammer. Morena was missing, probably too afraid to face off against Kell again. The rest of the fighters were scraggly and appeared to be from the refugees like Roran and his crew, except for one. There was a tall figure with bright, curly hair.
Roran tuned back into the announcer just in time to catch the gladiator's information.
"Returning after his unfortunate injuries, we have Gress the unkillable, who has once more lived up to his name."
Kell frowned and glared at Gress. Something was up. Roran wanted to ask about it, to get more info, but he doubted he would get the chance to talk with Kell until after the match was over. She would probably be too busy keeping Duran and Gress busy. It would be up to Roran to stay alive and attempt to make his own kill, if he could. If he even wanted to. Part of him still had doubts.
"Fighters," the voice boomed through the arena, echoing down into Roran's very core, "are you ready?"
Roran raised his sword, ready to fight, ready to die. Beside him Sephyr and Toth did the same. A bell rang out and the fight began.