You awake to the thundering of voices coming from somewhere above you. Groggily, you attempt to raise your arms to your throbbing head, but something stops you. Peering through the darkness, you notice your hands are shackled to the ground. Fear grips you as you hear others groan about you in the darkness.
You lay back against the cold stone. Try as you might, you cannot remember how you got here. Your thoughts are fuzzy at best and are cut short as the creaking of a door in the distance draws your attention. At the end of what appears to be a corridor, you see a group of torch and spear wielding humanoids bearing towards you.
“All right maggots!” the largest one calls. “Welcome to the Coliseum. I’m the Pit Boss.” As the torch light plays across his face, he grins, creating a wicked combination of mirth and madness. “Can you hear them?” gesturing above himself. "They lust for your blood. They crave your fear. They yearn to see your skin grow pale and lifeless. Their hunger is only satiated when they see you bleed out.” He and the others cackle. “Ah, where are my manners? Raksha!” he waves to one of his thugs. “Go get our guests their… equipment.”
“Right away, boss!” he replies, running off back down the corridor.
“Now, maggots.” He turns back to you and the other shackled around you. “Normally your worthless carcasses are thrown out without so much as a tear, but the Guild has seen fit to keep tabs on all of you from now on.” He pulls out parchment and a quill. “Now, I need your name, race, and a description of your fighting expertise, if any, from each of you. You first, maggot,” pointing to you.
In the meantime, Raksha and a few others return with your “equipment,” which is nothing more than padded armor and clubs.
Finished, the man rolls up the parchment and places it in his pack. “Don’t see why they bother with this,” he mutters under his breath. “All right boys, let’s bring ‘em up!”
The next few moments were a blur. Unshackled and reshackled to one of the other prisoners, the men haphazardly deposited the armor over your shoulders. Another man thrusts a club in your hand and shoves you down the corridor. As you are being herded down the corridor, you can hear the crowd growing ever louder. The Pit Boss calls for the group to halt several feet from the portcullis. You peer around one of the other prisoners and see what appears to be a hard dirt-sand mixture on the Coliseum floor. You also notice several cages in the center of the arena, but cannot make out what is in them.
The Pit Boss yells over tops the din outside, “Here’s your chance to make Amn happy! Now get on out there and get slaughtered!” With a nod from the Pit Boss, the other men menacingly wave their spears at you, urging you through the now open portcullis. Eager to avoid a spear in the ribs, you and the other prisoners clamber outside, unsteadily awaiting whatever fate these men have in store for you.