The Draconian of Dicathen

Art of Trade and Show

To be frank, I don't exactly understand how I ended up in this situation myself, but by the looks of things, I'm stuck. For the time being, I'm choosing to act passive, I can't gauge my surroundings at all, their mana levels are too high for me to read, so playing it safe was the best decision. Where I am now, and what I've been doing for the past week, has shown me that I'm not in a good situation. This place, "Bedrock Gorge" they call it, is one of many underground black markets. 

There are four groups among those who dwell down here: Customers, Hunters, Products, and entertainers. 

Customers are those who know their way through the labyrinth set up to keep this place hidden, they come down to pay hefty-coin for Products and to watch shows that are administrated by the staff here. 

Hunters go out and catch Products and Entertainers to bring them down here so that they can make some profit from their hunts. 

Products are poor souls who have been branded as slaves, they get sold out to customers for their own personal gain, whatever that may be. Though products can also be inanimate objects you can't find in a typical market. Those mainly range from body parts of endangered mana-beast species and normal animals alike to mana artifacts for inhumane use or are too dangerous to use, to begin with, but oftentimes offer great power in return. 

Then there are Entertainers like myself, some products are too strong or have an indomitable enough will to just freely be sold without causing a nuisance for everyone involved, so it's easier to profit more from the "Show" they provide. On special days of the month, they'll hold a death gauntlet for the customers to watch entertainers slaughter each other, and the staff profits off of the tickets sold, killing two birds with one stone. To whoever may have this cell in the future, then I failed to uphold my goal of burning this place to the ground, just know I wish you the best of luck.

Arthur used up the rest of the flint he was using to write. He gave one last look at the message that he imprinted onto the stone wall before he stood up to look at the entrance of his cell. His neck had a metal brace wrapped around it which cut off his connection to mana. Every Entertainer and product wore one to avoid a jailbreak. Two guards plated in heavy armor stood just outside, they pressed the cell key into the lock and opened the door. "You, entertainer, it's showtime." 

The cornflake-haired adolescent simply stood up from his crouched position and walked out of his cell without even batting an eye. The guards gazed down at him before sharing stares and shrugged before assisting the boy to his position in the arena. The dark hallway lit by dimly lit torches slowly shined brighter as they approached the entrance. 

His blinded vision slowly cleared up into the same wide area he found himself in when he first arrived, the ceiling he fell through was already patched up. The dirt beneath his feet was decorated in different colored chalk lines, it merely played as a decoration that will soon be painted over with the blood of entertainers. 

The guards that escorted Arthur retreated slowly back where they came out from and closed the gate behind them. 

Across the stadium was a burley man maybe in his mid-forties. He wore loose gathered chain mail for a shirt and his pants were ripped off past his knee caps. His muscles were toned that were covered in a layer of fat to only pronounce the size difference between him and Arthur. Alacandraz, the apparent leader of this system announced to his beloved customers the show that was about to commence. He cleared his bristled throat before shouting out the event. 

"Dear customers, today is a fine day for a show don't you think?" The crowd roared with mal-intent they shook the stadium stomping their feet constantly against the floor of the caged bleachers.