***Some people have strange jobs. Others have strange hobbies. Some people manage to combine the two, and Jonas Bull is one of those.
0_o
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Book of the Forsaken Part 3
With the dawn, the many travelers began to stir -- some needing to get limbs disentangled a little first. But they all managed it eventually and after a bit of milling about, Rosa and the others who were leaders here somehow began to get them all marshaled and off they went. The natural tendency here was to walk in numbers across the flatter parts and to work out a single file progression through the hills, but Raul put a stop to that.
"We need to stand and walk together," he said, "If we're attacked for some reason while we're all strung out in a line, it's just bad planning and we'll lose good people for nothing."
He looked up at the demons wheeling above them, "I know we got some protection, but I want us to walk a little wider than single file -- unless we get to someplace where we've gotta do that."
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Randi sat in the bed looking down at Rudhi and holding her hand loosely. What had begun with a lot of hope and promise for them didn't materialize beyond some kisses and quiet petting. Neither one was upset -- they were just a little sad and they were better friends than ever from it all.
Randi found that no matter how she wanted this for them, she always came up against something in herself that stopped her. While she tried very hard to get past it, Rudhi had her own troubles. Where she was from, lovemaking was mostly very similar to the ways that it is done here. There are soft and quiet times -- and those were the ones where Randi found that she stood the best chance to begin -- and there were more urgent times. That was fine.
But on the world where Rudhi had come from, 'urgent' was an open doorway to 'aggressive', and though she tried her best, not wishing to hurt her friend or put her off any farther, it still oftentimes came up in her and that stopped things cold every time.
In a very real lover's sense, the two were forced to agree to disagree -- though they now knew that they did love each other, even needing to be close and touching often. They just couldn't find enough common ground to make love with each other.
After breakfast, they walked back to the forge to begin the work of finishing Randi's blades.
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When it got to be a little past noon, there was a quiet and barely discernible shift in the activities of the seedier part of the town. The church had emptied out and the God-fearing people had gone home. But there were many who came back for an entirely different attraction.
Down at the largest bar in the town, business was steady all week -- until about Friday night when it began to get a little brisk. That commerce picked up even more on Saturday afternoon and evening, and then it began to taper off once more, Sunday afternoons being the end of the activity cycle after one last event.
Besides the booze, the bar had entertainment as many did. Out here, that meant strippers most nights, but toward the end of the week right on up to the Sunday matinee, there was a very different sort of entertainment offered there.
On this particular Sunday afternoon, the house was packed as it had been for every single show. It was busy every weekend, but once a month, one had better get there early or give it up entirely.
The place was jammed early and the crude coal oil lighting kept most of the audience in almost darkness as the footlights lit the center of the large room. Waiters moved through the crowd because for these events, the waitresses just couldn't handle things. Most nights for these convocations, the crowd was almost entirely male, but for the Sunday matinee, that's when almost half of those present were females -- the very same ones who'd sniff with an air of obvious distaste if the subject of the matinees came up in civil conversation.
Like almost everyone else, they were there for the wicked thrill of this and the more sensitive members of the townsfolk looked the other way. Numerous attempts had been made to shut this down, but thus far, nothing could stop these cage fights.
The crowd hushed a little expectantly as the portly M.C. strutted into the open area in front of the structure and after his usual braying attempts to stir the blood of those present, the first matches got underway. People watched politely as the fighters tore into each other and though there was the occasional injury, it was only the current equivalent of any of the more serious forms of entertainment fighting, still alive after all of the time which had passed.
People were pummeled -- some were knocked cold, and a few left the ring bloodied. The spectators were getting their money's worth. But underneath it all, they all waited for the main event.
An intermission was declared and a group of six men entered the cage after the last preliminary bout and got to work quickly. They were there to clean up any slippery spots and they were done in a few minutes as everyone tried to order another mug of ale for themselves and maybe a bowl of nachos to go with it. But at length, the M.C. was back and as he droned on the crowd watched as three rectangular boxes covered in dark cloths were wheeled up against gates which were built into the cage wall.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, "the master of ceremonies boomed though the handheld megaphone in his deep voice, "This is the main event about to begin. We have taken all reasonable precautions, but we strongly recommend that you all remain in your seats, and above all, do not come near to the cage once this match is underway."
As he went on, the doors of the rolling squares were lined up with openings in the cage and left open, so that whatever was in the rolling cells could come into the cage. The audience peered, trying to see into the smaller cages, but there was only darkness there.
"This is not anything to be witnessed by the faint of heart," the M.C. shouted out above the noise of the crowd, "On average, we lose about one person a week here, but there are always some who seem to think that this is a staged event, and so we always offer the chance to compete to anyone -- so long as they are of age and have signed the necessary waivers.
Oh, and paid the entrance fee, of course," he grinned, "For the mere pittance of only one gold, you too can try your luck at and have a chance to win the purse, which at present, stands at over seven thousand golds.
Yessir," he shouted, "You can try your luck at defeating ... the mighty mountain queen herself, ... the one and only, ... mmmMMUNGRA, queen of the mountain goblin hordes and her two handmaidens!"
The crowd roared as he shouted louder, trying to be heard over it, "Yes! What you've heard is true! Mungra and her girls are the last of a ferocious tribe of goblins, found in a cavern high up in the mountains of Idaho by our own expedition."
Mindful of the make-up of the population in front of him, he dipped his voice just a little, "They were known to be the ones responsible for the disappearances of many young women from the communities there, reputed to come in the night to steal away an unsuspecting farmer's daughter now and then, bringing them back to their cavern to perform unSPEAK-able acts upon them against their will.
When they were found, the goblins here were living with a few of the surviving captives in squalor and those girls are now living in institutions, the effects of the depravity to which they were subjected leaving lasting scars on their poor minds."
The crowd roared again, but the sound from one of the smaller cages silenced them. The sound which came forth was a little deafening in that it hurt the ear. The audience fell silent and then the beasts bounded out into the large cage, one from each of the smaller ones.
The crowd went wild as they watched the three large and very naked females come to a stop and look around at the audience. They were all a dark and dull grayish green as they stood growling low in their throats. Someone threw a mug at the cage, but they saw it coming and turned their heads. The heavy ceramic mug smashed against the bars, and the goblins were there in an instant, roaring and trying to see who it had been as several beefy bouncers wrestled with the thrower to get him out.
Anyone who had never witnessed these events would have stared at the three of them, but it was easy to tell which of them was Mungra. She looked out at the audience with disdain, and unlike the two others, she wore a necklace which was adorned with bones.
And it didn't take much of an imagination to see that they were the linked and wired-together bones of a very human-looking hand.
Mungra could speak, it turned out, though not well and she reached out through the bars pointing here and there, howling out her challenge, "You! Fight me. Come here! Come here and fight Mungra!"
No one came, and after waiting another minute, the large goblin began to hurl insults in a sneering and derisive tone.
But everything stopped when two men entered the room at the back and walked down the long aisle.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," the M.C. cried out, "I give you -- the only man insane enough to fight the mountain queen and live to tell of it -- though he's never prevailed -- JONnaaaaAAAS BULL!!"
As the cheers grew to a deafening pitch, one of the men turned to the other, "You don't have to do this, Jonas."
"I know that Sully," Jonas smiled, "I want to. I'm the only one who keeps coming back and they waive the entrance fee for me every time. They also pay me pretty well for this."
"Oh yeah," the other man nodded thoughtfully, "Why not? You're good for their business, Jonas. You come here every month to fight them and they beat the shit out of you over the course of four shows during the weekend. Look around you, fool. These fine respectable people are here to see you die. They leave when it's all over and go back to their boring lives, and won't think about you until the next month. They're not the ones who have to scrape you off the floor with a dustpan, are they?
No, 'cause that's my job.
Every month, it's the same thing. You come back here and disappear for the weekend somewhere and you turn up for these shows where they give you enough punishment to kill most any man in here, and then it's up to me to come after the last show to gather up what's left of you."
More of the audience saw Jonas then and a roar of approval and recognition went up. Jonas smiled and raised his arms to egg them on.
"You can bitch all you like, Sully," he said, "but we're not exactly millionaires yet, are we? We scratch around at all kinds of odd jobs. Doing this goes a long way to keeping up both fed. Besides, I kind of like it. Why don't you stick around to see this just one time?"
