Tally Marks

Chapter 4 - The Universe Games

The gladiatorial pits of Asgard had not been used for the Universe Games in quite a long time.  Odin had grown up observing them, sitting beside his father, King Bor, and his mother, Queen Bestla.  He had watched as champions of Asgard defeat the warriors from other worlds over and over again.  However, when Frigga became queen, she had it outlawed the barbarity and insisted that they should be raising the other realms up, not beating them down.  Of course now, she was sadly deceased, and the council had suggested that they start the games back up again to lift the spirits of their people.  However, Thor had also suggested they include the outer galaxies in it as well to diversify the competitors.  

That was why Odin was sharing the spotlight with the Grandmaster.  He gave the flamboyant Sakaarian leader a sidelong glance.  He was having one of his courtesans rub oil onto his hands, while the other held his cup so he could drink.  "You enjoying yourself so far?" Odin asked dryly.  

"Oh, very much so!  It was considerate to invite me to sponsor a champion in the games.  So thoughtful.  I'm proud to represent Sakaar," En Dwi Gast answered with a playful smirk on his lips.  Odin barely managed to conjure up a smile of his own.  Thor was sitting on his father's other side with most of the Avengers with him.  Steve was not with them, as he was going to be among the first ones to fight that day.  "Is the Prince of Asgard going to grace the field with his presence?"

"Possibly.  Only if the previous defenders of Asgard are incapable of vouching for Asgard's honor," Thor responded.  Odin frowned a little.  He had been hoping that Thor would not say anything, but now that the Grandmaster knew, he would be sure to say something later.  The stadium around them was filled with people from Asgard, dwarves from Nidavellir, Kronans, elves from Alfheim, Kree, and Xandarians.  This was the most inclusive Asgard had been in a while and many of the Asgardians were rather disconcerted by the presence of so many aliens in their midst.  The Einherjar had increased their patrols and the regular guards made sure that the foreigners were behaving themselves.  

That was when the trumpets sounded and the people cheered, clapping their hands enthusiastically.  The gates to the arena opened and revealed a dwarven warrior from Nidavellir and from another gate, came a Light Elf from Alfheim; the usual foes.  Thor leaned over to Tony and said, "This is a stereotypical lineup."

"Who usually wins?" Tony asked.  Thor's golden eyebrows did a little wiggle as he cleared his throat.

"It's a knock down, drag out, and they both end up bloody and broken on the ground," Thor answered.

"And you guys call that entertainment?" Bruce queried.  Thor shrugged his shoulders.

"You used to call it entertainment," he reminded.

"Yeah, in like Rome in the ancient times!  That was centuries ago," Bruce countered as the dwarf and the elf faced off.  Odin stood up and raised his hand over his head, held it there for several seconds before he dropped it.  The Avengers watched in a mixture of awe and terror as the elf and the dwarf charged at each other.

In the tunnels inside the walls of the arena, Steve was watching all the other fighters as they prepared and waited for their names to be called.  Some of them were boasting of their exploits in previous battles, or were sharpening their weapons.  Of course, Steve was watching the fighter from Sakaar as he meditated.  Steve was wondering why he was covered up from head to toe in flexible leather armor.  Only his eyes could be seen and they were closed.  Steve had found out that the two of them would be opponents; the Grandmaster had requested it.  Steve started to approach the man he would be fighting and observed his face to see if he was really paying attention to his surroundings.

"Curiosity will kill your cat if you come any closer," the mysterious warrior said without opening his eyes.  

"If we're going to be beating the crap out of each other here in a few minutes, I figured we could at least introduce ourselves," Steve said as pleasantly as he could.  The man opened his eyes, the red irises focusing on Steve instantly.

"Introductions should be saved for the arena.  The best introductions are made with a sword or a spear," the man said as he uncrossed his legs and rose up with ease and grace.  Steve took a step or two back for some reason and held his hands up.  The red eyes were off putting and Steve was wondering what type of alien had eyes like that, or if they were surgically altered.  

"You like swords and spears?" Steve asked as he caught a glimpse of a chain with a spiky metal ball on the end of it.  His vocabulary for medieval weapons was limited, so he had no idea what kind of weapon it was.  

"I'm good at using them," was the cool response before the alien walked away.  Steve just blinked a couple of times before he turned around and saw that the elven warrior was being brought back in after his match.  Steve gaped as he saw the slash across his chest.  The dwarf came in afterward, his bloody ax raised over his head in celebration.

"Help him!  He's injured," Steve urged as he knelt down beside the elf and tried to stem the flow of blood.

"That is why we are here.  Step aside, mortal, and we will tend to him," said a voice and Steve glanced up, seeing an Asgardian matron approaching with a basket of medicines and bandages.  Steve backed away and watched as the woman applied salves and a cloth and then ordered that he be born in a liter to the healing ward.  As he was carried away, she passed a wet towel to Steve.  "Wash your hands, captain.  The contenders only spill blood in the arena."  Steve took the towel and wiped the elf's blood from his hands.  He watched as the red streaks were removed from his skin and were transferred to the towel instead.

"Only your blood will be spilled," said a chilly voice and Steve jumped when he realized that it was the champion for Sakaar who had spoken.  Steve spun around and the man was already walking away.  Steve felt like he had known that voice when it had been spoken in that low octave, but he could not quite place it.