Welcome to Korhal City Undertown

Joeyray's Bar
Oh boy, it's been a while since I've written a story. Inspiration hit a few days back and I've started writing again. Feels kinda nice. Oh right, the story.
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WELCOME TO KORHAL CITY UNDERTOWN

The summer sun was busy broiling the asphalt from Korhal's street, the agony in Morgan Martell's head had kept him horizontal for half a day, and some idiot was pounding on his front door.

"Morgan, come on! Wake up!"

Morgan contemplated ignoring the voice in the doorway for a few seconds before he got out of his bed groggily and stumbled towards the door, tripping over his own feet several times. "Who is it?"

"It's me Ricardo! Hurry up! I got us a way into Korhal City Undertown!"

Morgan opened the door and was met with Ricardo Garent, his best friend and long time associate. "What in good god is Korhal City Undertown, and why does it involve me waking up at six in the freaking morning."

"Undertown! You've never heard of it? It's amazing! Most fun you'll ever have!"

"Uh huh. And why is it, that I have such a hard time believing this."

"Yeah, I know, you're still a bit grumpy after last night, but I promise this will be fun!"

"That's what you always say." Morgan replied. He started getting dressed anyways, pulling clean clothes out of a random pile on his floor. "So, what is this Undertown you're talking about?"

"Korhal City Undertown is exactly what it sounds like! A city, under Korhal City!"

"Yeah, I think it's better if you just take me there."

"Righto!” Ricardo paused at Morgan's staircase. “Oh yeah, and take your gun as well."

Morgan raised his eyebrow, "I thought you said this was going to be fun."

"Hey, I said it was going to be fun. Not that it wasn't going to be dangerous."

Morgan sighed and picked up his gun, an old .44 revolver, worn and scratched with use. He followed Ricardo into his car and they started driving. "How come I've never heard of this Undertown place?" Morgan asked.

"Oh, well they try to stay secretive so the authorities don't go knocking on their door."

"That means they do illegal activities?"

"Yup! That's part of the reason this place is so fun!"

"And would you mind explaining to me, how is it that you came to know about this place?"

Ricardo pretended he didn't hear his question as they pulled into a dark alleyway, behind an old warehouse. "Okay, now follow me and try not to get lost. The way into Undertown is kinda dark." Ricardo pulled out a keycard and inserted it into a scanner that was making odd clicking noises and occasionally spitting out a shower of sparks. Nothing happened.

"Um, I'm pretty sure the scanner's broken. Are you sure you didn't get scammed or anything?"

"No! Uh, I mean no. The person who introduced me wouldn't rip me off. I did him a big favor."

After trying again a few times, the scanner finally made a small beeping noise, and a door opened on the side of the warehouse. "Finally." Morgan said, and stepped into the doorway. It was pitch black and not a thing could be seen from Morgan's position. “Oh, boy. I'm having fun already.”

“Oh stop being a ninny muffin. Come on, follow me.” Ricardo stepped past Morgan and turned on his flashlight, illuminating a small colony of bugs which scampered off into the darkness. “Keep your hand on my shoulder and stay close.” Morgan complied and they started moving forward. After a few dozen twists, turns, and stairs downwards, they finally emerged into a well lit cavern. Well, maybe cavern was an understatement. Korhal City Undertown might have been as big as Korhal City itself. Undertown was a near copy of Korhal City. Skysc r a p e rs identical to those in Korhal City covered most of the landscape. There was a replica of the Colosseum in the distance that erupted with cries of cheering or disbelief every few seconds. In the outskirts of Undertown, closest to where Morgan and Ricardo were standing, there were hundreds of small shops, floods of people coming in and out and swarming the streets.

“Woah.” Morgan said, baffled.

“Yeah. Pretty amazing right?”

“Woah.” Morgan said again.

Ricardo grinned at Morgan and punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Come on, let's get something to eat first. I don't know about you, but I'm starving.” The two stepped into what looked like a restaurant and ordered two steak sandwiches. “Pay first, then eat.” The cook prompted immediately.

Ricardo reached into his pocket, made a face then said, “Crap, I forgot my wallet at home. Can you pay for me Morgan? I'll pay you back later.” Morgan snorted, and paid the cook. A moment later, the cook returned with their sandwiches. Morgan took a bite out of his sandwich. It tasted burnt and had a nasty aftertaste. The cook tapped Morgan's shoulder and said, “Now pay.”

Morgan glanced at the chef for a second, then said, “I just payed you buddy.”

The chef shook his head. “Pay now.”

Morgan snorted in disbelief, “Are you kidding me? Well I ain't paying you.”

Ricardo started shifting around his chair nervously. “Just pay him Morgan. I'll pay you back.” Morgan ignored Ricardo as he said to the chef, “Get lost.”

The chef looked at Morgan for a moment, soft clicking noises seeming to originate from his head. “You are not protected.”

Morgan looked at the chef, puzzled. “What the hell are you talking about.”

The chef turned his gaze to Ricardo and said, “Smuggling people into Undertown... Ricardo Garent?”

Ricardo froze and said very slowly, “I don't know what you are talking about.”

The chef chuckled and said, “It appears, that we have an unprotected guest in Undertown.”

Several people seated at other tables started smiling wolfishly at Morgan and Ricardo. Morgan stood up, pulled his revolver out of its holster, pointed it at the chef and said, “If anything, I am not unprotected. Now all of you are just going to stay seated where you are and let me and Ricardo over here leave.” Morgan kept his revolver trained on the chef as he gestured for Ricardo to follow. “Come on Ricardo. I swear, this is the last time that I follow you on your stupid adventures.”

They started backing up into the doorway when a massive shadow blocked it. He was big, taller than Morgan even, and that was saying something, considering that Morgan stood at a six foot three height. He was wearing a black leather duster and had a fedora shadowing most of his other features. “I couldn't help but overhear that we had an unprotected guest in Undertown.” The same clicking noises started to come from the shadowed figure. “I presume that this guest would be you?” He inclined his head at Morgan.

Morgan switched the point of the barrel to the cloaked figure's head. “Like I said, I'm not unprotected.”

Morgan caught sight of a smile beneath the fedora, and then felt his revolver being violently kicked out of his hand. He barely had time to register this when the figure's hand closed around Morgan's neck and shut off his air. Morgan panicked and started throwing wild punches at the man, but for all the good it did, he might as well have been hitting him with a rubber chicken. Darkness starting consuming Morgan's vision, and he went limp shortly afterwords.
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So how is it? Good? Bad? Have I lost my touch?
Interesting. I rather like it. Can you add details about the characters though?
OOhhh yeahhhhh.

The details.

I'll try and ninja that in somewhere during the story. Thanks Fantasy.
I quite like it :D

And I get what you mean, I have a painfully hard time coming up with ideas when I write. I have one story that I got sorta far through, but I have no ideas past the first chapter XD
Morgan woke with a groan. Rubbing his sore neck, Morgan stood up and starting taking note of his surroundings. He was in a massive room. No doorway was visible, and the only thing inside the room, other than Morgan, was a rusted steel vent, fowl smells coming from it, and a single, dimming light bulb. “What the hell have I got myself into this time.” Morgan muttered to himself. He started walking around the room, checking for any opening or weakness in the walls he could exploit. Nothing came out of his efforts, aside from discovering that the room he was in was made of metal and there was no visible way Morgan could escape. He started pacing restlessly, checking the walls of the room as if they might have changed in the short amount of time he had turned away from them. This happened a second time. Then a third before Morgan finally sat down and gave up. “What the hell! Let me out of here!” Morgan shouted in pure frustration.

“Your wish is my command.” An indiscernible voice said.

Morgan jumped up like a startled rabbit. A moment later, he felt the room he was in start rising upwards. At the same time, a hologram of a figure appeared out of the floor. He was wearing the same black leather duster, and fedora. Before Morgan could say anything, the figure said, “Now now, stranger, you should save all that anger for your opponent.” Morgan began to ask a question, but again the cloaked figure interrupted him before he could begin. “Since this is your first round in the gladiator pit, I will be here to answer all your questions, and give you tips and tricks to survival. Essentially, I will be your teacher until the round begins.”

Morgan forced himself to reign in his anger and said, “Where am I? And what the hell is the gladiator pit.”

The stranger smiled that same smile and said, “To answer your first question, you're still in Undertown. This is the Colosseum, where we hosts spectacular events akin to ancient Rome's. I'm sure you saw it on your way in. It can't be missed. To answer your second question, the gladiator pit, being one of said events, is a simple deathmatch style game. You'll be placed in an arena, with weapons on the center of the field. It's simple from there. Pick up your weapon of choice, and kill your opponent! Quite fun, quite fun.”

Morgan stared at the cloaked figure, sickened. “You're telling me... to commit murder?”

The figure nodded. “It's that, or you can get murdered by your opponent. Although it would be a sore disappointment for you to die this early in the games, it can still happen.” The figure took a look at his watch. “And today is your lucky day! Your opponent is also a newcomer!”

The room Morgan was in came to a stop. “Oh, looks like we're here. Unfortunate that we couldn't have more time together. Good luck and have fun stranger!” The hologram disappeared, and the room started to deconstruct itself, revealing a massive ring of spectators, blinding lights covering the edges of the Colosseum, and a similar box being deconstructed across from him. A forcefield buzzed to life around him.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to our opening event!”

The announcer started introducing Morgan and his opponent, a man named Cornelius, but this was at the back of his mind as he studied his enemy. The man had dark skin and had obviously not eaten in a while. He stood at a five foot eight height, had hair that fell to the top of his shoulder blades, and had eyes that were wide and bloodshot. He kept hopping from foot to foot, and was breathing as if he had just ran a marathon. The announcer finished the introductions and had started counting down. “Five, four, three...”

Morgan felt his own breathing speed up.

“...two...”

Morgan crouched down, getting ready to dash toward the weapon pile.

“...one. Begin!”

The forcefield powered down and Morgan took off at a full dash towards the center of the arena.
Morgan reached the weapon pile first and hurriedly snatched up a sword at random. He looked up and felt his head snap back painfully as Cornelious's foot connected solidly with Morgan's face. Morgan fell onto his back and his sword fell out of his grasp. He looked around blindly for a moment, before he spotted Cornelious advancing with an ax, his face contorting into an expression of fear and indecision.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry...” Cornelious kept mumbling to himself before bringing the ax down toward Morgan. He let out a yelp of surprise and rolled to his side just as the ax buried itself into the sand where he had been located just a moment ago. Morgan scrambled to his feet and started running towards the weapon pile once again. Cornelious started screaming in incoherent rage as he wrenched his ax out of the sand and followed Morgan to the weapon pile.

Once again, Morgan snatched up a sword and met Cornelious, keeping the point of the sword aimed towards his enemy. Cornelious kept charging, ignoring Morgan's sword entirely. Morgan's eyes widened and he threw his sword up to meet the ax. There was a ringing clash as steel met steel, and Cornelious used the momentum from his rebounded ax to spin around and hit Morgan with the blunted end. Morgan attempted to block the strike, and only partially succeeded. The blunt end of the ax didn't brain him, instead it struck his right wrist and Morgan felt his entire hand go numb. The sword tumbled uselessly from his grip.

Cornelious started smiling like a maniac. “I win! I win! I win, I win, I win!” Cornelious reared back and prepared to kill Morgan. As the ax began it's downward descent, Morgan ran forward and tackled Cornelious with his shoulder. The ax went flying and missed Morgan's body by inches. Morgan kept his knee pinned on Cornelious's chest as he stared punching him with his left arm, the one that wasn't numb. The first punch connected against Cornelious's nose with an ugly cracking noise. The second punch broken open his lip, and the third punch knocked him unconscious. Morgan hadn't registered that Cornelious was out cold, and continued punching him. By the time he had finished, Cornelious's face was a bloody mess, and barely recognizable. Morgan stood up, and looked at the crowd. They had gone wild with excitement and delight. All of them were cheering, and a few even started chanting “Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!”

Morgan looked at the crowd with disgust, then turned his gaze back to Cornelious. The man was choking on his own blood and would probably die if he didn't get medical attention soon. You'll be doing him a favor, he tried to tell himself. But he couldn't. He couldn't lie to himself. Murdering somebody was different. It had a instinctive wrong feel to it. Morgan was no lightweight. He had participating in his own fair share of fights before. But he had never committed murder before. He felt like he wanted to puke.

The man in the fedora and duster fazed to life in front of him. “Why are you not killing him? End his life and be done with it. If you do not, harsh penalties will be enacted, and Cornelious here will be declared the winner.”

Morgan stared at Cornelious. “I don't think I can do this.”

The man stared at Morgan. “I will be forced to declare Cornelious the victor if you do not end his life. You have ten seconds.” The cloaked figure disappeared with those words.

Morgan clenched his fingers together until it hurt. I don't want to die. But I don't want to kill. Morgan walked over to the weapon piled and picked up a sword. The crowd started cheering louder. Morgan put the tip of the blade across Cornelious's throat. Morgan closed his eyes and slit Cornelious's throat. The crowd went insane with excitement. The announcer started speaking again. Declaring Morgan the winner, but this was at the back of his mind. He dimly remembered two men walking into the arena and escorting him back into his room. It was a bit different this time. This time, it actually had a bed to sleep on, and a sink was on the corner of the room opposite of the fowl smelling vent. Morgan sat down on his bed and stared at his hands. It was stained with the blood of an innocent. Literally, in Morgan's case. Morgan closed his eyes and tried to ignore the horrible feeling in his gut as he realized that one day, it might be him beneath the sword. That his fate might be in the hands of another man. That he would be doing this until the day he died.

EDIT: I just felt the need to add that this part took abnormally long because I'm not to good with writing fighting stuff. Same with the last two posts, is it good or is it bad?
Enjoyable, liked the action. Also, your character development of Morgan is very good so far.

Now go and comment on mine! 42 views and not enough feedback.
http://us.battle.net/sc2/en/forum/topic/6308702257
!#@$, read the first paragraph but dont have the time to read the whole thing, now im torn.
Good job.
At one point, Morgan must have dozed off, because when he woke up, a guard was shaking him roughly on his shoulder. “Wake up.”

Morgan shook off the welcoming folds of sleep and stood up to join the guard. The guard led Morgan through a confusing maze of cell blocks into a small booth that had a glass barrier in between him and Ricardo.

“You got ten minutes.” The guard said.

Ricardo sat there awkwardly for a moment, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Morgan said nothing to help him out of the silence and just stared at him. Finally, Ricardo said, “L-l-look Morgan. I know you're upset about this turn of events, but you don't have to act so angry about it. I'm suffering as much as y-”

Morgan suddenly slammed his hand, still caked with Cornelious's blood, onto the glass paneling. “Hard for you? You're suffering as much as me? Look at me Ricardo! LOOK! It's literally kill or be killed down here, and you think you're suffering as much as me? Have you just been forced to kill? To end another man's life?” Morgan slumped back down on to his seat and pointed a finger at Ricardo. “If you don't have anything else to say, get the hell out of my sight.”

Ricardo winced at Morgan's words. “You know that I wouldn't come here unless I had some way of getting you out of here.” Morgan snorted at his words. “Look. I spoke with the owner of the Colosseum. He says that the price for one gladiator was five thousand credits, and an additional thousand for each win he accumulates. I can only assume from, you know-” Ricardo gestured at Morgan's bloodied hands. “-that you've already won a round.”

Morgan looked up at Ricardo, visibly brightening at the prospect of escape. “So that means that we need six thousand credits to get me out of here. I have five thousand in my account.”

“I have four thousand” Ricardo replied.

Morgan glanced at the guard. The guard was facing away from him. “Okay. Ricardo listen closely. The password to my account is four-eight-one-two-four-four. Take four thousand out of my account. Pay the rest yourself. Hurry! I'm not sure I can survive another round in this place.”

Ricardo nodded wordlessly and stepped up to leave the booth. As Ricardo opened the door, he glanced back at Morgan. For a second, Morgan thought he saw something like guilt and shame flit across Ricardo's features, but he left the room and the moment was gone. Morgan slumped further down on his seat. The idea of escape seemed to good to be true.

Morgan's ten minutes must have expired, because the guard came into the booth a moment later and led Morgan back to his cell. Morgan sat down on his bed, but found he couldn't sit still. He started pacing around his room nervously. What felt like a year passed and a worm of doubt starting writhing around Morgan's belly. What if the banks were closed? What if there was a delay? What if, what if, what if. More possibilities opened up and Morgan started feeling more and more distressed. The guard slammed his baton noisily into Morgan's cell door, and Morgan jumped up, startled.

“Cafeteria. Wash your hands and follow me.”

Morgan complied and after navigating through the maze of cell blocks again, they arrived in a large room filled to the brim with people. Surprising, considering that the Colosseum was a deathtrap. The cafeteria had the humid, thick smell that overcrowded rooms tended to have. A large group of people were crowded around the wall opposite of Morgan. Morgan presumed that was were the food was distributed. Several security guards patrolled around the cafeteria, occasionally shouting out orders, or slamming their batons against disobeying prisoners. Morgan also noted that the roof of the cafeteria was patrolled by more guards, though they held guns in their hands.

“Thirty minutes to eat.”

Morgan grunted an affirmative then moved to grab his own plate and got in line. Line in the metaphorical sense. There was no semblance of order in the group. People just pushed and shoved until they got to the front. After what felt like an eternity, Morgan finally got to the front and a glob of food was thrown onto his plate. Morgan stared at it for a moment, before he was shoved and pushed out of the group. Morgan sighed and took a seat at random. Between the terrible smell of the cafeteria, and the food itself, he doubted that he would actually get any food into his stomach.

He took one bite out of the glop, grimaced at its taste, then dumped the rest. Another guard was waiting for him as he dumped his food. The guard led him back into his cell, and Morgan sat down on his bed again. Still waiting for something to happen. Preferably him leaving this hellhole. Morgan was about to fall asleep when the figure in the duster and fedora appeared out of the ground again.

Clapping the entire time, the cloaked figure said, “Congratulations stranger! I'm proud of you. You made quite the opening event. Crowd went nuts!”

Morgan just stared at the cloaked figure and said, “Uh-huh.”

The figure ignored Morgan's attitude and said brightly, “Uh-huh indeed! I have a good feeling about you stranger. I feel like you'll go quite a long way. Better rest up stranger! Tomorrow you've got another round!” The figure looked like he was about to go away but then paused and said, “What's your name by the way? Calling you stranger all the time is odd.”

Morgan hesitated for a second, then answered, “Morgan. My name is Morgan Martell.”

Morgan caught sight of a smile beneath the fedora. “Well Morgan, you can call me Kronos. As I said, better rest up!”

With those words, Kronos disappeared. Morgan closed his eyes, leaned his head against the wall, and muttered to himself, “Hopefully I won't be here by tomorrow.”

OOC: So I had a "surprise" eight day trip and couldn't bring my computer, thus no typing, thus no story. As you can see, I'm back now. So woohoo.

I'd also like to thank you guys for the feedback, no matter how short. It makes me happy to know that my stories don't suck donkey wieners.
OOC: It occured to me earlier, that my story is not actually connected to the Starcraft universe. Aside from the name, nothing in this story relates to Starcraft. So in the following segments, I'll probably be writing stuff that doesn't exist in the Starcraft universe. Just a heads up.
I think this is great so far, Bc :D

I like the writing style and character development; and having something non SC2 every once in a while is nice :3
Morgan woke when he felt his room start rising upwards again. Again, Kronos emerged from the floor and said brightly, “Come on Morgan! Time to wake!”

Morgan opened his eyes and realized that he had fallen asleep sitting down. Stretching his cramped muscles, Morgan pieced two and two together and realized that he was about to participate in another round. Morgan rubbed his temples and sighed. Ricardo had failed him. “What is it this time.” Morgan asked finally.

Kronos rubbed his hands together eagerly. “We must have a special guest or something, because the hosts are being really generous with the gladiators. It's a four-way free for all. Again, I'm here to give you a few tips and explain the rules.” Kronos paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Unlike your previous match, this one will have no weapons. Strictly fist-fighting.”

Morgan raised his eyebrows. Morgan didn't know how to use swords or any of the weapons the gladiator pit seemed to have, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to fight. When you lived in Lower City Korhal for as long as Morgan did, you were bound to have learned a thing or two about fighting. He allowed himself a brief flicker of hope that he might survive.

Kronos continued. “I presume that you know a thing or two about fighting?”

Morgan nodded his head. “Yeah. Lower class citizen.”

Kronos grinned. “Good. Oh yeah. One more thing Morgan. This match doesn't require you to murder someone. Just make sure they aren't going to get back up and ruin your day.” Kronos checked his watch, waved goodbye at Morgan, and disappeared.

Morgan breathed a sigh of relief. Not having to commit murder was a relief. A small relief, microscopic really, but a relief nonetheless. Morgan's room slowed down then stopped altogether. Instead of just deconstructing itself like before, a guard knocked on his door and gestured for him to move into a different room. Morgan complied and soon found himself moving upward again, this time, when he stopped, the room deconstructed itself as before, the forcefield powered up, and again, he found himself momentarily blinded by the massive lights covering the Colosseum.

Three other men were located on opposite ends of the pit, and they all looked at Morgan grinning. “Oh great. It's pick on the newcomer.” Morgan muttered to himself.

The announcer started introducing everybody in the ring. “Quintus Cassius! Twenty wins!” Morgan glanced at the man named Cassius. He looked like he was ready to pound somebody's face in.

“Dervish Grady! Fifty seven wins!” Morgan gulped audibly.

“Nicodemus Liath! One hundred twenty wins!” Morgan turned to look, wide eyed, at Liath, who waved a mocking salute at Morgan. Morgan felt his small flicker of hope extinguish.

“And finally, Morgan Martell! One win!” The crowd let out a few snickers when the announcer finished introducing Morgan. Who could blame them. Morgan was about to be pit against a man who had potentially killed one hundred and twenty men.

Once again, announcer began counting down. “Five, four, three, two, one. Begin!”
Morgan backed up steadily, keeping all three of his opponents inside of his range of vision. As he had suspected, all three of them started advancing towards Morgan. Naturally, they kept their distance from one another. The alliance they had merged was only temporary. Only one winner was elected, and each was sure the other would stab them in the back the first chance they got. Morgan continued backing up until his back met the cold stone walls of the Colosseum.

Morgan's chances didn't look good, when Liath suddenly darted towards Cassius and shoved the heel of his boot hard against the side of Cassius's leg. There was a nasty cracking noise and Cassius screamed out in pain. Cassius snarled and swung his fist in a hook aimed at Liath's head. Liath dodged easily, almost contemptuously, and drove his knee into Cassius's chin. It connected with another nasty snapping noise, and Cassius crumpled onto the floor, in all likeliness, unconscious.

Dervish, not expecting this sudden change of events, couldn't help but stare in bewilderment at the two fighting. He was distracted for no more than a second, but it was all Morgan needed. Morgan stepped forward and jabbed his fist hard into Dervish's stomach. Dervish doubled over at the sudden pain. Morgan twisted his body, and punched his fist upwards as hard as he could. Dervish literally flew up a few inches and landed back onto the ground with an explosive “OOF!” forced out of his body.

From the crowd's position, the uppercut must have looked pretty awesome. Everybody started cheering and clapping when Morgan delivered the punch. Some even started chanting “MORGAN! MORGAN! MORGAN!”

Morgan was about to make sure that Dervish was out for the count, when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Without thinking, he threw himself sideways. Moments later, Liath's fist whistled through the space that Morgan's head had occupied just seconds ago. Morgan scrambled back to his feet and faced Liath.

Liath looked relaxed and confident in his ability to defeat Morgan. Whereas Morgan was tense and fixed into a fighter's stance, Liath's hands were hanging loosely by his sides and he was grinning.

“Not bad for your second game.” Liath said. “Lower Class Citizen?”

Morgan nodded his head jerkily.

“It's uncommon for a single game winner to knock out a fifty-seven game winner. I know a guy who once beat a hundred win gladiator. He only had three games on his belt. Eventually he faced me. I killed him.” Liath's grin disappeared. “I would let you live, but it doesn't pay to take unnecessary risks. If I let you live, you'll remain a constant threat to me. I don't take any pleasure in this Morgan. I just hope you know that.”

Right as Liath finished the last word, he darted forward and threw three lightning fast punches at Morgan. Even expecting the punches, Morgan was surprised at the speed they were delivered. Morgan managed to dodge one, the second one glanced off his shoulder, and the third punch smacked straight into his nose. Morgan recoiled in pain, and even as he regained his footing, Liath was advancing towards him again. Morgan's eyesight was covered in black and white splotches of color. He could only vaguely see Liath's outline. Morgan felt a fist connect painfully with his jaw, and then a foot caught him in the stomach. Morgan was propelled backwards by the force of the kick, and he ended up sprawled on the sands of the Colosseum.

Morgan stared at Liath in a daze. So this is how it ends. Morgan thought, and then coughed weakly. I wonder if this is what Cornelious felt like when I ended his life.

Liath's face was impassive, showing nothing. Liath was about to reach Morgan, when he felt a hand grab his ankle and tug his footing out from under him. Liath landed face first in the sand, sand blinding him. Even blinded, he was able to catch sight of Cassius's eyes, pure hatred and triumph burning through them. Cassius started laughing like a madman, his own life spewing out with each breath.

Morgan saw what was happening and took advantage immediately. He pushed himself to his feet and pinned his knees down on Liath's body. Morgan grabbed Liath's head, and with the last of his strength, broke Liath's neck. Liath's neck had twisted to the point where he was facing Morgan. Disbelief and confusion written across his face. Even as his life ebbed away, he seemed to say, “What? How?”

The crowd was silent for a moment. Everyone present had expected Morgan would die. Hell, Morgan had expected he would die. Then the cheering began. Morgan, still pumped with adrenaline, started laughing drunkenly. He couldn't believe it. He had won. He had survived.

After the announcer had recovered from his initial shock and announced Morgan as the winner, more guards arrived and they carried Morgan out of the Colosseum and back into his room. Morgan just relaxed on his cot for a moment. The adrenaline had finally started to fade away and Morgan started trembling lightly. Something at the back of his mind kept bothering him, but he couldn't pin it down. Morgan was still thinking about this when Kronos appeared again and congratulated Morgan. He sounded genuinely happy about it as well.

“I can't believe you won Morgan! This is absolutely amazing!” And so on it went. Kronos finally stopped congratulating Morgan and turned to leave.

Before he could, Morgan suddenly realized what had bothered him so much. Ricardo was many things, but if there was one thing he was not, it was incompetent. “Hey Kronos? Is... Is it possible for someone to buy a gladiator?”

Kronos turned back towards Morgan and snorted quietly. “Look Morgan. I know this isn't the path you would have preferred, but get those ideas of escape out of your head.” A cold hand of despair gripped Morgan's heart. “It's not possible for someone to buy a gladiator.”
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OOC: Thought I had finished up with Korhal City Undertown? Ha, no, of course not.

Before I begin Morgan's story again, I have to write about Ricardo Garent. As I wrote before, they were long time friends and associates, and it was unlikely that Ricardo would just betray Morgan like that. So I wrote what was happening with Ricardo before he met Morgan and why he abandoned him.
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It's been six months now. Six months since I last brought Morgan to Undertown. Six months since I abandoned him. I've been living miserably since that day. Always looking over my shoulder, always expecting a sudden knife in the back, but not for the reasons you might think. Let me start from the beginning.

Getting involved with The Circle might have been the worst decision of my life. I was still pretty young back when I first got involved with The Circle. I was broke, and living a hard life. My parents abandoned me pretty early on. At the time, I was to young to apply for the military, and had to pick up whatever odd job I could find. Eventually, I got a job that would keep me. I worked as a janitor in the night-shift. The pay was okay, and it was better than cleaning the crap out of sewers.

Working late at night, it wasn't uncommon for me to hear disturbing sounds in the night. The occasional scream, or whisper of steel. A few times, I even heard a gunshot. They unnerved me at first, but I quickly got used to it. Korhal City might have looked a bit more appealing than Undertown, but it was just as corrupt. Rival powers were often contesting in the dark, and the government wasn't much more than a mask for the underground powers.

Life passed dully for me, picking up odd jobs in the morning, and working as a janitor in the night. Fast-forward five years. I'm eighteen now. It's my last night as a janitor before I get drafted over to the military. Something about an enemy called the Orion. Anyways, it's my last night as a janitor. I'm preparing to lock up for the night, when a man stumbles out of an adjacent alleyway. He's clutching at his bleeding stomach, and was limping. I immediately rushed over to him and start helping him.

The whole time he's muttering to himself. “Damn it no. God damn it. Betrayed. How?”

I bring him back inside of the building and set him on a couch. After a second of thought, I locked the door too. Didn't want whatever was chasing him to suddenly come in. I pulled a first-aid kit out of the janitor closet and started tending to him. Around this time was when I noticed that the man was wearing some sort of armor. It wasn't like anything I had ever seen before. I heard that the military had special troops that could perform some fairly amazing things. Of course, they were all rumors and I had never actually seen one in the flesh before.

I finished patching him up and he immediately starts trying to get up and leave the building. I try to get him to rest, but ignores me. He just tells me that he'll repay me tomorrow and disappears. Poof. Just gone. No flashy visuals, no sudden distortions in the air. Just, gone.

I walk home befuddled. I had just helped a stranger who had been shot in high-tech armor. He tells me that he'll repay me tomorrow. I realized that I didn't give him anything to contact me, and vice versa. There were many things going on in my head at the moment, but one thought rang out louder than all the others. “What the heck is going on?”

It's the next day now. I wake up and go about my regular schedule, the previous night momentarily forgotten. Navigate through the cluster of trash in my room, Brush teeth, eat breakfast, check mail. Nothing special. I'm about to leave my apartment when I realize that something was under the doorway. It's another envelope with nothing but my name scrawled onto the paper. I open it and the first thing I see is a large wad of credits, almost a months worth of working, and an address. Nothing else.

I stared at the piece of paper for a moment. I figured that my life couldn't get any worse and I decided to go to the address written on the paper.

The address led to an abandoned warehouse. The only way into the warehouse, was a dark alleyway with a figure standing next to the doorway of the warehouse. “Right, this isn't a bad idea at all.” I muttered to myself. I walk over to the door, and discover that the figure standing near the doorway was the same man I had rescued last night, though this time, he wasn't wearing any super armor.

He remains silent for a second before saying. “You saved me last night. I felt the need to repay you.”

The man hands me another wad of credits, a key-card, and a map.

“This door leads into a place called Undertown. Lot of things down there. I know how life can be up here. Go to the mark written on the map. Give him the map, it has my letter of recommendation on it. He has jobs that pay a lot better. One more thing. I went ahead and did you a favor by canceling your military contract. You won't be needing it anymore.”

Then he pulls another disappearing act, and leaves me standing there alone. I just stood there for a moment. So a mystery man shows up, gives me a ton of credits, pulls me out of the military, and says there was somebody that was willing to pay me. And the guy lived underground?

It seemed silly to me. Instead of going home and continuing life as normal, like any other sane person would have done, I used the keycard and stepped into the winding maze of corridors and stairs. My reaction was similar to anybody else the first time they saw Undertown. For about the third time in a single day, I stood there for a moment, baffled and unmoving.

I was snapped back into reality about a minute later. I took a look at the map and found out that the place I was headed for was around the center of Undertown. I walked down the hill where the entrance was located and started towards the general direction the building was at. I couldn't help but stop and stare at everything in Undertown. It all seemed so... impossible.

I eventually reached the building. It was a small shack squished between two larger buildings. I stepped inside and was greeted by a gust of refreshingly cool air. An old ragged looking man sat across from me.

“What do you want.” The man asked gruffly.

I had a hard time believing that this scruffy old looking guy was the man who I was looking for. He looked worse off than me. I waved an apology and took out my map to check if I was at the correct location.

The old man caught sight of the paper and said. “What is that? Give me that.”

He jumped out of his chair and snatched the map out of my hand with surprising speed and force. He started muttering and occasionally nodding to himself.

He looked up and eyed me warily. “So you want a job.”

I wished so much that I had just left. I wished so much that I could go back in time and erase this portion of my life. That I had never went down into Undertown. But what I wanted didn't matter. I couldn't change the fact that I had just agreed to help one of the most powerful crime-lords that existed.

I nodded my head.
OOC: I am stuck. No other way to put it. I'm trying to find a convient way to introduce something new to my story, but it seems a bit stupid, and I'm hesitant to show it to everybody. So I ask my fellow roleplayers to give me some advice. When you introduce something to a story, something new and completely unheard of before, how would you do so?
I can only think of two ways:

Sneak it in during some sort of action or conversation.
Or
Blatantly introduce it into the world, let people know your thoughts.
If an event X occurs that is serious to the plot/protagonist, that's a good time for me to introduce a new element Y to the story. You lead up to Y and then hit the reader with the mind blowing revelation. Or you can simply reveal it right off the bat but that's tougher to pull off and gets a bit involved. Same advice as Nikola in a nutshell.

I already wrote a rough timeline of my story with all possible subplots that can occur so there I am very flexible in introducing new elements to the story and its easier to do so. More planning maybe so it is not as difficult to implement something?

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