The beginning!

The arena is dark, all the lights on the main combat floor off the house lights too dim to light up anything but the small bugs flying around them for a brief moment but one point of light spews out of a doorway. The doorway is gated off and at the bottom of the pit surrounding the combat floor, past the gate a room is lit by large lights. It is a room filled with the smell of fear, with the smell of sweat and with the sounds of people preparing themselves for what is to come. Some mutter prayers to what ever god they hope will help them tonight, others mutter threats and grunts towards the other people around them. Each person sits on a bench running around three walls of the room, chained to the seat by there feat and arms. The chains are too short to allow them to grab or lunge at each other but some still try, two guards in the room keep those people under a careful eye ready to lay the smack down on any of these thugs trying to start the nights activities too early. No one wants to bet on a player if he is injured before the show or tired from giving another person the beating that they want to see, the guards are there to ensure that each player gets to the combat floor in one hundred percent shape or if needed to make sure that a trouble maker is beaten into submission so they wont cause trouble the next time around.

In the middle of the room a large wooden counter is stacked with weapons, some are generic weapons from the streets, knives, bricks, bottles, shivs. Others are laid out in front of the star players, their weapons of choice, the weapons they have used over and over to come out on top or at least close to the top. One sits far from the rest, a large curved sword waiting for the champion of last years games to pick up. He sits in front of it, head down, eyes closed not a sound coming from him. Every muscle tensed and ready, inside his head the mantra of his family ringing clear and true preparing him for the battle ahead the battle he wants to win, no needs to win. Behind him a camera watches the room, moving from player to player, from thug to thug and finally resting on the champion in his special armour coloured to represent the winning line he comes from. In the announcers booth an editor quickly adds in names and stats on each person, getting this footage ready for the punters outside, taking special attention to point out the champion and how much they could win on betting for him winning or losing.