A lone Troll stands tall just over 5 feet in his lavender skin, his dark blue hair tied loosely behind his pointed ears. One braid fell in front of his left ear, a number or jade baubles were braided in. A bright red slash ran down over the right side of his face, a constant reminder of the actions that lead to his present punishment. He wore cache breeches that had brown leather trimmings cut to convey a wave-like patten, and a loose cotton shirt with a family crest sewn onto a shoulder. An ornate hooked sword, with a depiction of two intertwined serpents running down the center of the blade, hung from his back and the leather hanger fastened to his back. It's mated sword dug into the earth before him. This man stood in a shadowed Colosseum filled to the brim with other purple skinned Trolls, in defiance of the 'justice' about to be laid down. Around the edges of the Colosseum, guarding the gated exits, four monstrous green skinned men stand holding swords with an eerie resemblance to gargantuan kitchen cleavers. Their well oiled muscles twitching with anticipation every time the Troll before them so much as flinched. Wind picked up and tossed the sand below the combatants about as the crowd cheered and roared with anticipation.
Within the seats of the Colosseum, directly in front of the weary looking man watched by four monsters, sat five nobles. The Heads of the six major houses that ruled over these Trolls all dressed in black in recognition of a major loss this day. The Nobleman in the center, with the largest seat, stood and addressed the crowd that had gathered to witness glorious bloodshed.
"Statesman Fylikus, Dominus of house Siz'korush, you have been found guilty of murder. The wound you host on your face serves evidence of this most heinous action." The crowd exploded with a cry for blood. The Nobleman raised both arms as to call for quiet. "It is my regrettable duty as Imperelus of these 6 houses, and as your friend since early childhood, to sentence you to the arena. If you truly are graced by the gods and somehow manage to survive against these champions in the arena, I will use the last of my kindness and see that your life be spared; but you will never know the love of your Troll brothers and sisters. If you manage to live you will never be welcome among the six houses for as long as you draw breath. Fylikus, do you accept these terms?"
Fylikus nodded curtly in acceptance. "How could my oldest friend believe me guilty of such a heinous act of uxoricide, let alone neonaticide. Besides my seat in the senate, my wife and children were my whole life. I will return to clear my name." The crowd went wild, the desire for bloodshed overwhelming each and every spectators.
"Very well, Statesman Fylikus Dominus of house Siz'korush, friend; I hereby strip you of your house, your holdings, and your title.
"Ronaan Fylikus, your task before you is to blood each of your four opponents no less than four 'separate' times each; while the Ogre brothers stand charged with the sole task of ending your life. Prepare yourself and take solace that your last moments among the six houses will supply them with a night of entertainment."
Simultaneously, the four ogres lifted their swords from were they rested and took a step forward. The crowd's blood thirsty roar grew impossibly louder.
Fylikus turned his unflinching gaze from the Imperelus to an elderly couple wrecked with pain and tears. Behind the crying couple were nine others glowering at the Ronaan with loathing so intense you could almost see a cloud of hate floating about them. Within seconds he knew he would find no sympathy from his former family. Fylikus was now no longer a Troll of the six houses, and forever more a Ronaan. He turned around and slowly met the gaze of his four combatants. the Troll reached into a pocket in his breeches and withdrew a leather thong that had once belonged to his beloved wife before he killed her. With a brief kiss, Fylikus tied the string to his wrist and reached behind him and pulled his sword from the ground, readying it for combat.
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