Kernak Rark

"Out of the gate there first appeared the massive figure of Gorbian, our champion, covered in animal hides from head to foot, except for his breast, which was protected by a very valuable cuirass of steel. As usual his appearance was met with wild cheering and chanting, there was no one in the crowd who refrained from shouting praise to Gorbian. After all, he was our champion, a warrior from our own tribe, and no one had ever bested him in the arena. There was no cheering for the other man when he stepped out into the arena. He was a new fellow, tall in stature and broad in the shoulders, and his beard was red, but we all knew by his face that he was an Eorian. Eorians were Gorbian's favorite. In the middle of the arena both men stood looking at each other, and Gorbian began yelling and threatening his opponent: 'I will smash your bones and tear apart your limbs, Eorian! Your death will be a feast for the eyes of my people, and your corpse food for the birds!' He always said this sort of thing before a fight, and it was rare that it did not have any affect on the man to whom it was spoken. Strangely enough I noticed that this Eorian seemed to be one of those rare exceptions.   When the horn blew, Gorbian bellowed his signature roar and then took to his fighting position. But the other man, the Eorian, turned to the crowd, gave a bow, and then assumed a low stance and began to circle around Gorbian. The champion watched his foe for a while, before at last saying, 'Will you never strike me, or will you hide away from my blade?' He charged the Eorian, and at first we thought that the duel would end right there. But the Eorian waited until the very last moment, and then with remarkable alacrity he rolled away from the stroke of the blade almost the way a pebble will roll down a hill. He took no time recovering but sprung behind Gorbian and struck him in the back with the pommel of his sword. The crowd let out an outraged jeer.   Our champion jumped up and bore down on his foe with many powerful blows and strikes, but his foe remained just out of reach of danger, and it never seemed that he put any more effort into his movements than he had to. Nay, never did he move a foot this way or lift a hand here if he did not deliberately mean to do so, and always his eyes were fixed on the face of Gorbian, his opponent. After some time Gorbian was sweating and panting, he could hardly lift his sword, while the Eorian was as swift and vigorous as though he had only just begun to fight. But he did not immediately finish his opponent off, he toyed with him and made him give chase to him. What a sight it was to see our esteemed champion plodding after the other man with his sword hanging and the sweat dripping from his brow. The crowd started to laugh then, whenever Gorbian would finally catch up to the Eorian. Or, rather, whenever the Eorian allowed Gorbian to catch up to him, and then, after patiently waiting for him to finish delivering his weary attack, striking him here and there with his sword. Then he withdrew again, and foolish Gorbian followed after him again, it was as if he could not help but fall into the other man's hands.   The final blow came when the Eorian ran right up to the wall, with Gorbian chasing after him. They were standing so that I was right there to watch this, so I know very well what happened. The Eorian, who by all outward appearances seemed to be unwisely cornering himself between Gorbian and the wall, bounded towards that wall, quite deliberately. In one movement he jumped and tossed his sword into the air -- some people thought he had dropped it -- and still rising into the air, he struck his feet against the wall and bounced off of it. He landed on his feet, much like a cat, and he caught his sword in his left hand and, again in one motion, he struck a final blow against Gorbian. The crowd erupted into praise for the stranger, having forgotten all about their old champion, for now they were acclaiming this Eorian and chanting, 'Rark! Rark! Rark!' That was the name they gave the Eorian. He stepped away from his fallen opponent and, facing the crowd, he beat his fist against his right shoulder several times. We did not know what exactly he meant by this but, regardless, it garnered a yet noisier and wilder round of shouting and cheering for the new champion. Then the Eorian struck his fist against his chest, over his heart, and he silently spoke to his defeated foe." - Orozonek, arena spectator