Battle for Escape, the Dragon Elitists' Games? (EchoxEldar)

How long has it already been. Two weeks, three? For all he was worth, Biessend just couldn't remember. He had been trapped for so long...

It was a few weeks ago. He had been resting in a forest clearing, when before he knew it he was surrounded by a group of mages, all dressed in black cloaks, concealing all identity. They had cast some spell that halted all of his movements, and then a great black shape suddenly grabbed him and carried him away, unable to fight or call for help. Though what in the world could have helped him, the thing carrying him was enormous. It carried him to some coliseum, a large stone structure with an inner area for... something. A strange scent in the air sent chills up his spine. It was the scent of decay... and blood.

After being carried there, he was somehow put into some sort of underground jail cell. It was small and cramped, making it hard for him to move around. The cell was separated from a hallway by multiple steel bars, which normally would have been an insignificant obstacle, but there were strange seals that had been placed all over his body, barring all but the most rudimentary movements, which were sufficiently quelled by him being jabbed with a sharp spear by the guard posted outside. Had he been able to, Biessend would have quickly let loose a cloud of gas to suffocate the man, but these men seemed to know what they were doing. The seals barring movement also prevented him from forming his fumes, leaving him defenseless. What could have been their reason for detaining him there?

((Sorry, this is crap, but it's the best I could do T-T))

He hadn’t known what was happening to him then and he much less knew what was happening to him now. Everything seemed to be dulled by a huge black shadow that was eating away the light and his vision, barring him of any sense of comfort or security. Was he alive? Or was he dead? He wasn’t quite sure of anything anymore. All he knew was that there was no way for him to escape this situation.

It must have been about a week that the acid dragon had been overwhelmed by.. something. Ever since then Sa’am had lost all sense of direction, of time, of location – utter confusion and chaos was the only thing reigning in his mind. And blackness.

Unbeknownst to him, the acid dragon was held in a sort of cell underneath a coliseum, built for the specific purposes of the Dragon Elitists. The powerful mages had turned the area into a sort of hunting ground for dragons worthy of their time. Anything fitting the bill was captured and taken here but none of the dragons seemed to know what was happening to them and there were no escapes either.

Sa’am shifted uneasily in his cell, clonking his head against the metal bars that kept him imprisoned, making his head resonating with the sound of the touch. All of a sudden, the support of the bars got ripped away from underneath him and the acid dragon almost toppled over and into the hallway, had the seals not prevented most of his movement. Sa’am was young, thus he had not even considered using his undeveloped magic, but even if he had, it would not have done him any good.

More confusion! Suddenly, he was not in his cell anymore but outside. In the light! There was light! The urge to spread his wings and fly, fly into freedom was coursing through his veins like fire but still he could not move on his own. What was this insanity? Where was he?

All around him, there seemed to be earth and sand. A huge open space shaped like a circle with an enormous stonewall around it and with what could only be described as a vicious net over the top.

What on earth was this place?!

He could feel the mages humming in anticipation at what was about to follow but Sa’am had no clue what it would be. He was scared out of his wits all of a sudden and wanted to run, run far away from this place! He fought the urge, knowing he could not move but instinctively, his wings snapped open.
Gasping, Sa’am stayed rooted to the spot for a moment. “Wh…? Can I…?” And without further ado, the acid dragon lifted himself into the air and dove straight for the net above him. It was only a net, right? He should be able to get through. Somehow!

Yet as soon as he touched it, he got flung back to the ground, crashing hard on the earth, his body still vibrating from the shock released upon contact with the net. Not far away from him, Sa’am, through blurry eyes and dizziness, saw a gate open in the stonewall and a large shape was ushered towards him.

Though the shock of being captured had initially blinded Biessend to his surroundings beyond a few feet, after a few hours he was slowly able to calm down and observe his surroundings. The hallway was tall and wide, enough to accomodate a much larger dragon, and sparingly lit with torches placed along the walls every few yards. Fromm what he could see, this was some sort of holding area, as there were a number of rooms just like his, varying from small to large, some with dragons and others without. From what he could see, most of the dragons looked mistreated, many hurt and underfed. But why would so many dragons be held in one area? For what purpous are so many locked in this underground jail?

As these thoughts went through his mind, Biessend almost missed a dragon being led away from its pen, trudging with its head low. When he noticed, the fume dragon watched him sharply. Something told him that that dragon was about to go through a horrible time. Bowing his head silently in prayer, he hoped that that dragon would somehow find peace. Go well, young Lash.

As he was led into the sunlight, the nameless dragon squinted, head bowed away from the sun. After being in the dark for so long, the light was both a blessing and a curse. As tears welled in his eyes from the brightness, dark thoughts began swamming in his mind. The only reason he was outside was because he was going to be in a match. After a few seconds of adjustment, his eyes were decen enough to look around for his opponent. And there he was, an acid dragon. It looked to be full size, yet something told him that he was still very young. He was obviously new, his body was free of injuries and scars.It was sad, but he knew they would have no choice but to fight. Stepping into the arena, the lash hoped that the lsoer would be allowed to live. Execution was always so grim.

The haze in front of his eyes only slowly lifted, leaving behind the sting of dust specks and the biting of the sun, neither of which was very comfortable at that moment in time. The shade he had spotted was still slowly moving towards him and gradually started to take shape.
A dragon!
Sa’am lifted his head, hope flaring to life in a wild spark.

Maybe they can tell me what is going on! The young acid lifted himself back onto his feet and began to pace towards the colourful dragon, which he came to recognise as a male lash. Maybe he can help me get out of here!
Just as he was about to open his mouth however to call out to the dragon, something about the latter’s stance warned him off even though he did not quite know what was going on. The other dragon seemed to prepare itself for a fight and Sa’am was thrown off guard at this stunning thought. Why would the dragon want to fight him? He had never seen him, never done anything to him.
Why did he want to fight?
What was going on in this place?

The young acid dragon began to panic, unsure of how to proceed. There was too much to be taken in and he couldn’t digest it all, didn’t even know how some of the recent incidents had been able to occur in the first place.
He was uncomfortably aware of the humans observing him from behind the confines of the gate they had lead him out through but he wouldn’t get to them, of that he was sure.
And then there was the lash, ready to fight.
Sa’am didn’t even know how to defend himself against a full-blown attack from a fully-grown dragon. Survival was one thing, but a fight? Like this? Under these circumstances? He couldn’t even remember when he had eaten or drunk anything for the last time, which was a sure sign for it having been far too long. What am I going to do?!

Watching the hope dieing the eyes of another dragon was a painful experience every time, and was one of his least favorite parts of this damned coliseum. And unfortunately, being one of the weaker veterans of the fights, the lash was often put as the first opponent of the newcomers. These matches usually ended in a draw, both tired and beaten from a mix of attacks and endless evading, however on a few occasions the lash would win against smaller and younger opponents. Would this be one of those times? Seeing the look of confusion on the young acid's face, it seemed that way.

The fact that they were going to fight was already set in his mind, there was no way around that. But the ever-present question was still there: would they be allowed to live? Some coliseum hopefuls were kept alive, even when defeated, because of their breed or fighting ability. However, when a dragon is too badly injured or when the crowd's blood was boiling, the loser would be put to death in a variety of ways. Sometimes by the winner's claws, the guards, or even the sentinel may pop in for its say... hopefully it wouldn't come to that. But then, what sort of life was this? Maybe giving the young dragon that exit was the most merciful action he could take?

A low murmur was starting in the crowd which snapped the lash back into reality. The lack of immediate combat was frustrating them, and if they didn't start soon they would start chanting for some 'encouragement.' Wishing to avoid that at all costs, the lash begrudgingly crouched lower, muscles tensing, then sprung forward, claws raised to strike the acid's face.

The more the seconds passed, the more confused Sa’am got and the edgier the crowd grew; a crows Sa’am had not even noticed until their murmurs were starting to grow louder and louder until they erupted in a loud cheer, as all of a sudden the lash dragon took a fierce leap at the acid.

Reacting out of pure instinct was what saved Sa’am’s eyes, otherwise the lash dragon would have completely scratched open his face as the huge claws ripped through the air at the place where the acid’s face had been a mere heartbeat earlier.
Sa’am threw himself to the side to avoid the attack but he came crashing down on the ground hard. He had not expected such a quick and such a direct assault and he didn’t know what to do with it. His pores began leaking poison, probably in reaction to the adrenaline pumping through his veins, but he did not even notice it, for one. Second of all, he did not want to harm the other dragon either.

Sa’am was not a fighter, not for the fun of it, not for the sake of it, barely even for survival. This situation was quickly growing way past his competency and he began panicking. With all he got, he scrambled back onto his feet, his eyes tearing from the dust his fall had swirled up, and tried to get away from the lash as quickly and as far as possible. Or rather as far as the borders of the arena would allow.
The acid dragon had only taken a few steps when he already crashed into the stonewall, his panic growing with every jump of his rapidly beating heart. There was nothing he could do, he could not defend himself and he could already see the black edges of terror creeping over his eyes as more and more acid protruded from his body, his defence mechanism doing what it did best – even when he did not know how to control it.

Oh No, hew backed himself into a corner. If he didn't go for it, the crowd would know that he was holding back. But such an advantage would almost certainly condemn the young acid to death. Unless... it would be a major risk, but it was worth a shot. Rushing toward the cornered acid, the lash got in as close as he could without touching, as to avoid the beads of acid flowing from his hide. He brought his snout a claw's-width away from the acid's then, with a menacing snarl, he began to speak in a low, menacing growl.

"Be quiet and listen. The only way we're both going to make it out alive is if we put on a good show for these humans. If you keep running around, I'll haeve no choice but to kill you. Now fight back damn you, before we both get it."

If the acid took the initiative, to the audience it would look as if he had been trying to menace his younger oponent, then had gooten taken by surprise as the acid attacked mid-taunt. If not, he would have to make his move, which may well have to be a fatal blow. He would allow for a ten second pause before he made his move.

Sa’am felt his heart up in his mouth and it was a very uncomfortable feeling. The threat of death seemed to be hanging over him like a massive dragon waiting to pass judgement and it was a feeling so strong and unlike anything he had ever experienced.

As soon as the lash began moving towards him, he instinctively wanted to cover away in fear and confusion but he was petrified, thus remained unmoving. Apparently for the best as the lash was suddenly talking to him! But even though the acid understood the words, he could not wrap his brain around them. He blinked a couple of times and had to consciously force himself to process the information he had just been given.

The look on the other male’s face became more and more urgent until finally, the pieces clicked into place in Sa’am’s brain and he slowly began to comprehend the gravity of their situation and what all of this was about.

Not needing to be told a second time, Sa’am roared in defiance of this game they were forced to play and slammed into the lash dragon, full force – which was not too much considering he had been immobile and backed up against a wall.
Almost as soon as he touched the lash, he remembered his poison and bounced off again, dancing away a few feet, frantically trying to force the acid from oozing out of his every pore. He may agree to play the lash’s idea of a game so the audience could get their game but he did not want to hurt him. He had not wanted to do so before, and he wanted to so even less now, after the male had offered him a possible way out of this situation.

Oh, good. He was fighting back. Good, good, good. You know, he had been aviding contact with the acid for a reason, and now that that was ruined, the lash suddenly felt like clawing all of his freaking flash off. He took a few silent steps back, trying to regain his balance from the push, then bowed his head low and gritted his teeth hard. Through eyes squinted from the searing pain, he could see the acid doing its work, eating through his scales and destroying nerves along the way. It was all over his front and, though weak due to the acid's inexperience, was potent enough to eat through the scale and some of his skin. It was going to scar, but clawing at it would do nothing. Squeezing his eyes shut and trying to keep his cool, the lash took a few deep, shaky breaths, then lifted his eyes and rushed the acid again, this time jumping into the air in order to land a kick on his back, knowing that the only safe way to make physical contact was with the feet, so that after he could wipe them againt the sand that made up the stadium's floor.

As all of this went on, the unknowing Biessend sat silently in his cell, wondering what fate the young acid met. Then, as if on cue, the guard outside of his cell was greeted by another soldier, who was apparently bearing news. Perking his ears slightly, as to hear better, he made out snippets of their conversation.
"... Isn't as interesting as we thought it would've been. The things aren't fighting, just a few lunges and dodges. Guess putting a lash wasn't the best idea...."
A lash? But, that meant that... it was a fight? He tried to make out more, but the soldier simply said his goodbye and rushed off, having come to only fill a friend in. Once the soldier was well away, the guard degraded to incoherent mumbling, something about a bet. Well, if the man was bored, then maybe Biessend could use that to his advantage....

I did not want this! Sa’am kept thinking over and over as he watched the poison, his poison, begin to eat its way through the lash’s beautifully coloured scales. He had wanted none of this, but as much as his mind refused to believe what he had just done, there was no way around it. What had happened, had happened, and as the lash dragon had said, there seemed to be no other way out of this.

Nonetheless, Sa’am looked away from the male dragon, not only because he couldn’t bear the thought of causing the other so much pain but also because he was trying to look for an escape route. But there was nothing. Nothing! The stonewall went on uninterrupted apart from the gates where the dragons were brought into the arena and frankly, the net above the arena did not look like it would be very forgiving, though the hum was not audible anymore with the fierce booing of the crowd. They were unhappy, very unhappy indeed.

Distracted as he was by looking around, Sa’am did not notice the lash preparing for another attack and the kick in the back hit him unhindered and full-force. With a loud “ouff!” that made the air rush out of his lungs, the acid dragon crashed to the floor and skittered a few paces before coming to a halt in a cloud of sand and dust, which made his throat itch and his eyes water. Coughing like mad, he completely lost his bearings for a while and thus did not pay any more heed to the lash, instead of jumping to his feet in his defense.

The crowd seemed to rather like this development of the fight, hoping for a bit of slashing and gashing after this initial cat and mouse play with no real spirit behind it. The fact that the acid dragon's back had started to bleed after coming in contact with the vicious claws of the lash dragon had their hopes up high.

Wincing in pain almost as soon as his foot met with the Acid's hide, the lash dragon quickly backstepped away. It seemed as if the acid leaking from his skin was getting stronger, or he was just becoming more sensitive to it, because the burning sensation on the flat of his foot was immense. But, there was one relief that he could find; the floor. The sand was there mainly to act as a sponge for all of the blood spilled from battle to battle, however it also had the added effect of removing acid. So, scraping his foot against the sand, the lash found relief, the miracle substance removing the acid and soothing his foot of its pain. But this had to become a real fight, and he couldn't keep jumping back to rub against the ground. That wouldn't entertain the crowd, they would want him to find a way to attack without hurting himself. Maybe now it was time to bring his species' agility into play...

Hunching over a bit, the lash began hopping from foot to foot, bringing his arms in close to his chest, muscles tensing. Humans have copied this style of fighting from lash dragons, he believed it was called ‘kickboxing.’ Crouching down, the lash lunged at his opponent, stopping just before collision and landing two quick jabs, then jumped back and circled around, tail whipping madly behind him. But, instead of hitting with his claws, he hit with his knuckles, the only way the lash cold think of to damage his opponent without seriously injuring him. Lashes weren’t exactly known for upper body strength.

"Uhm, excuse me." Biessend said softly, causing the guard outside of his cell to jump and swivel around, his javelin immediately pointing toward the fume dragon's head.
"Whadda ye want, dragon?" The man said, body stiff. He was cautiously confident, placing his trust in the fact that the seals lining the cell would constrain his abilities. Biessend reared his head back a bit in mock fear, curling back a bit in his cage. Best to make the man think he was in control.
"Oh, uhm. Well, i couldn't help but listen to your conversation earlier, and I was wondering if you happened o have any money problems?" The man stiffened, hands gripping his weapon tightly, and a bead of sweat formed on his brow. Oh yes, he was having trouble.
"What's it te you?" He said, swallowing. His problems must've been worse than he thought, if the man was getting this nervous over the mere mention of his debt.
"Well, not that it's any of my business, but... maybe I could help." Biessend offered, turning his head and eyeing the man. His muscled slackened slightly, the tip of his spear lowering slowly.
"O-oh? Ye don't say. What is it?" Desperation. Good. The ends of Biessend's mouth curled slightly into a smile, some humans were just too easy.
"Well, here's my idea..."

As he was trying to regain focus and concentrate on the situation at hand, Sa’am realised that he did not know where the lash dragon was. Straightening up his head in a panic and waving it left and right, the attack came before the acid dragon had completely understood that the lash had found a way to circumvent using his claws but also avoiding as much contact with Sa’am as he possibly could.

The acid dragon howled in pain as he felt the punches because even though the lash was not using his claws, it still hurt. Sa’am’s scales were extremely sensitive to anything by now, the malevolent liquid still oozing as though there were no tomorrow. The bashing wouldn’t have hurt him under normal circumstances, because the lash dragon really held back his strength and seemed intent on not trying to properly injure him. Vaguely, Sa’am remembered the lash having spoken to him earlier and having said something along those lines but it was all scrambled into tiny bits within his confused mind now.

As the beatings, however light, continued and Sa’am could not regain his focus, due to his terror and the shouts of the suddenly excited crowd were only serving to make things worse as the voices began thumping inside his mind, something inside the acid’s mind snapped all of a sudden.
Roaring in anger and hatred at his current situation and everything around him, Sa’am did the only thing he could think of doing. He turned against the lash and rushed him to try and do as much damage as he possibly could, teeth were snapping left and right.

Not good not good not good not good! The lash quickly brought his arm in front of his body to catch the bite, the Acid's teeth latching onto him easily, the unexpected force of his tackle sending his crashing to the floor, his opponent on top of him. He must've snapped, there's no way such a meek creature would’ve turned so suddenly for any other reason. His eyes squinted shut and his teeth gritted together as the acid that poured from his pours began to melt away his torso and arms, writhing from the excruciating pain. With all of the force he could muster, he tried to push the young Acid off of himself, for if he didn't then death would be imminent. Definitely not what he had planned in mind.

"... Ye don't say? Hm..."
After Biessend had offered his idea, the guard turned back around, obviously halting any further conversation. At first, Biessend feared that his plan had failed, and the man had blown him off. However, to his relief, the man began mumbling to himself once again, sounding rather excited as the man tossed ideas around in his head. Success! Now hopefully the guard was able to get whomever was in charge in this jailhouse to do as he says. From here, all he can do is hope.

((Sorry it's a bit short, but s'all I can really do. And yes, the idea is a surprise until it's put d: ))

As soon as his teeth clamped around the lash’s arm, Sa’am woke up from the weird trance he had just fallen into, surprised at his own course of action. However, it was already too late to avoid the worst as the lash lost his balance, drawing Sa’am down to the ground with him. The acid’s fall may have been cushioned by the other dragon but it made him scrambled all the more, realising he was covering the lash dragon in his deadly fluids.

“Oh my, oh my, oh my!” Sa’am exclaimed, immediately loosening his grip as he realised what he had done. Scrambling to get back onto his feet, he saw that the damage had been done but he was still hoping that the worst could be avoided. “Get it off, get it off!”
And without waiting for the lash to do anything, he began scabbing at the acid, trying to scratch it off of the other dragon’s body as much as possible, but realised that it would not be enough to safe him from painful burns

Already the acid was fulfilling its purpose. And very quickly at that. Much quicker than Sa’am would have thought.

Frantically, the dark dragon was trying to think of something else to do seeing that scratching evidently did not bear the desired result. Thinking back over various incidents like this he’d had, there had been not a single time where he had notably seen the acid take effect or how it might have been countered.

At a loss for what to do, Sa’am bugled loudly, wondering what there was to do. That was when he remembered the lash weirdly dancing about earlier when he had started punching him. Maybe... “The sand!”
Immediately, he began the labour of trying to turn the lash over onto his side.

The pain, and every other sensation, quickly left the lash's body as his mind forced him into shock; the overload of pain proved to be too much, so now he was just laying there, eyes wide and watching as the young acid tried to turn him over onto the sand. A valiant effort, but just touching the sand wouldn't be enough; it would have to be scrubbed fairly vigorously to get this amount off, and with how rapidly it was eating to raw flesh... not a very good idea. Maybe their jailers had a cure, he knew the healers were skilled enough to repair most wounds quickly... if the dragon was allowed to live. Oh well, at least things were finally going black. What would happen when he woke up? If he woke up….

When the lash finally passed out from shock, the crowd exploded in thunderous applause. The acid's sudden attack sent the crowd into a frenzy as-is, and the lash's almost certain demise just made them clap more. It was disappointing at first, but the end of this fight was definitely worth it. A large dragon suddenly came up behind Sa'am and held onto him with his foreclaws, which were covered in what could only be described as a pair of leather gloves, apparently treated so that the acid wouldn't affect him. Another dragon came to take the lash, pulling him off to the unknown. Sa'am's last view of the coliseum would be a crew quickly dousing the field with water, removing traces of poison as a man walked to the center of the stadium, announcing the next match. Sa'am would then be led, silently, back to his pen, where he would be doused with bucket after bucket of toxin-neutralizing liquid which left quite an offensive aroma. His wounds were deemed too little to require medical attention, so he would have to deal with his pain.

Not knowing how long he had been in his cell, nor how long it had been since he had passed out to escape the pain and the horrible stench in his cell, Sa’am shook his head to erase the last of the drowsiness from his brain.
He could not quite remember how he had ended up in his cell again but at least, it meant he was still alive. But how...? The lash! What had happened to the lash dragon he had been fighting? He had tried so hard to get rid of the acid on his scales in the end and then...
Then..
What had happened?

The acid dragon could vaguely remember something or someone grabbing him but he couldn’t say for sure. Everything had been drowned out by the rising panic within him and by the horrible clamour the crowd had made as they apparently had cheered at the fight – which he could not understand at all.

It seemed however – judging from the noise outside – that there was another fight currently being held. What on earth was this place? How had he ended up here? But worse, how was he going to get out of this forsaken cell? He would not stand to fight another dragon, he hated hurting others and he could not deal with the act of doing so – he was too young and fragile after all. Survival yes, but fighting, no. He could not, and he would not.

Frustrated to no end and without any options on what to do, he roared into the hallway through the tiny little opening in the cell door and yelled: “Let me out of here!”
Hoping against hope, maybe someone would hear him?

“Let me out of here!”

The young Acid's shout echoed deep into the tunnels of their underground prison, weighing down on the hearts of many dragons in the exact same position. There wasn't much any of them could to do help themselves, let alone another dragon. The bars were strong and the bindings resolute, and it would take a truly cunning individual to free even one dragon.

Hopefully, Biessend was clever enough for two.

And, luckily for the young acid, their cells were adjacent to each other.

Wincing as the young acid let out his howl of despair (the echoing did nothing to help), Biessend turned to face the wall keeping the two separated, then lightly rapped on the wall. There were no guards currently stationed in this section of the prisons, apparently because they were only for added misery for the dragons, so they would be able to talk, if quietly.
"Hey, not so loud. Don't waste your energy like that, you'll need to save it for what I have in store." The acid seemed desperate enough to try a daring escape, and their close proximity would mean they could plot together in secrecy. If he was willing to play along.

Head drooping after his outcry, Sa’am felt as though every ounce of his energy had drained out of him with every drop of acid he had lost in the arena. He felt bad for the lash, so very very bad. Worst of all, he did not know what would happen to the dragon, or if he was even still alive.
The thought of being the reason for the lash’s dragon kept turning around in his head, on and on and on, making him dizzy. Yet, there was nothing he could do about the situation. The acid couldn’t help but keep wondering what had happened to his arena opponent.

All of a sudden, his head snapped back up when he heard a sort of knocking – had it been a knock – on the wall that connected his cell to the one next to his.
Wait..
Yes! He had not been mistaken! A voice was piercing through, if only to reprimand him. However, the other dragon added something that was interesting, very interesting indeed!

“How do you plan on doing it?” Sa’am asked, suddenly wide awake because of course the dragon could mean nothing else than escaping from this place. With this piece of information, a flare of hope surged through him and he felt completely replenished. “Is there anything I can help you with maybe?”

With a small smile, Biessend nodded gently to himself. With no doubt as to the acid's cooperation, Biessend sat down a bit more comfortably in his cell, the stress of being incarcerated relieved now that he had another dragon to help in his escape. The plan was all slowly coming together, as piece by piece, the puzzle came together. And, with the guard's gone, the best time for passing ideas between each other.

"In fact, my friend, I won't be able to do it without you." He replied, inspecting his talons. "I've already planted the seeds to our success, if you could believe such a thing. You see, one of our guards is having a hard time holding on to his coppers. Through him, I can put us into a special situation in which we will be in the arena at the same time. With that, it would be easy for us to escape. It would be a simple matter for me to use my fumes to take out the guards, all I would need is a way to carry you safely when I fly.

Yes, he wasn't exactly giving the Acid much in the way of rebuttal. But he had no doubt that a young, distressed dragon would do anything to escape. In fact, the only real danger would be if he couldn't keep his mouth shut. But, he was going to take what he could get, and the other dragons near him were either too beaten or too old to be of any use in a quick escape. A sad fact, but it was the truth.

Eagerly, Sa’am listened to his fellow prisoner’s plan, sitting down on his side of the wall as he was too weak to pace around even though the prospect of escape had gotten him all excited. However, listening to the plan, he grew a little suspicious about the whole thing, wondering whether it wasn’t just a set-up or an illusion – maybe he was in a delirium?! – or whether the dragon was just quite simply toying with him as a means to make his own imprisonment a little less boring.

“So you’re going to arrange a match for the two of us? Assuming that it will actually work and we will be placed in the arena together, and assuming that you will manage to take out the guards with your fumes, how do you propose we get out of the arena? It is completely surrounded, even closed at the top and there would be no way for us to simply just fly out of there as you seem to suggest.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to escape, of course he did! Yet he couldn’t get the gleaming metal above the arena out of his head and he hadn’t seen any possibility to sneak through. “Actually, I can fly. If I can regain my strength, that is,” he slowly added, realising just how exhausted he was when he contemplated using his wings.

“When is this plan of yours going to be put into action? Apart from the seeds.” Sa’am wasn’t quite sure what he should expect but nerves were making him giddy but at least he felt somewhat more like himself again thanks to this dragon. “My name is Sa’am, by the way.”

The other dragon was energetic, good. That sort of can-do attitude would be invaluable for this mission, so long as his drive didn't waver or his excitement ruined the secrecy needed for the plan to work. With no real way to directly admonish the young dragon without ruining his drive, Biessend would have to trust that Sa'am could restrain himself, with perhaps some scattered admonishing should the acid become too excitable.

"There has to be a way for me to carry you. You're a very small dragon, and there has to be some way for me to touch you safely. How else are the guards getting you into your cell?" Perhaps it was some sort of treated cloth, or maybe leather. If they could find out what it is, it would be no matter for Biessend to acquire some. Perhaps from that loose-pocketed guard, he seemed very desperate for winnings.

"Well met, Sa'am. My name is Biessend. It will be quite a while for everything to be put in place, I'm afraid. We'll most likely have a few more fights before our chance. So make sure that if you fight, you win. You shouldn't have any problem with your, ah, natural talent." And he would have to do the same, unfortunately. They were lucky in that their cells were right next to each other; There would be no way for him to recruit other dragons without the risk of leaks, or of the guards overhearing. The cells were all too far away.

“Hm that is true,” Sa’am admitted. He hadn’t really considered the fact of how the guards had been moving him about. “In all honesty, I’m not really certain,” he continued his confession. “I always seem to leak all over and seem to get everyone in my proximity into trouble because of it.” Taking a deep breath as he could feel himself drift off towards hyperventilation again as he remembered what had happened to the poor dragon in the arena, while it had only tried to be nice to the acid, offering him a way out alive in the end.

“Do you think the guards would find it odd if I asked them?” Suddenly a plan began to hatch in Sa’am’s mind. “After all, I’ve been panicked enough during and after the fight, they certainly wouldn’t find it too weird if I asked them how they were able to touch me without dissolving into sorry little heaps of smouldering rot?” Well maybe he wouldn’t exaggerate like that but it could work, couldn’t it?

Biessend’s next words definitely doused his enthusiasm however. “Really? More fights?” The acid dragon instinctively cowered down, not wanting to think about that possibility. He didn’t want to fight anymore. That first one had been enough to last him for quite a while and he really didn’t want to be put through such an experience anymore. “It’s this natural talent that is posing the trouble actually. I don’t know how to tap into it or how to make it stop. It just.. happens. I have no control whatsoever.”

After a few moment’s silence, the acid picked up the conversation again. “How good are your fighting skills? Are you sure you could win against whoever they’re going to put as your opponent? I don’t eve know what they have in store here..”

Raising his eyebrow, Biessend sighed and turned his head, using his teeth to work at an itch developing at the base of his wing. "I'm not as young as you, Sa'am. I have full control over my power, and it is a formidable one indeed. So long as it is not bound during combat, I shall be fine. And it would seem that we are just the newest additions; I would assume that these people keep to themselves, not a lot of traffic coming and going. The only dragons they'd get would be the ones foolhardy enough to not take the beaten path, as I was,"

His itch satisfied, the fume dragon resumed his comfortable position, talons lightly tapping on the floor. "It would be unwise to ask, as it may only serve to aggravate our aggressors. It would be for the best to let me try to obtain it, my guard seems to be a bit... desperate. He most likely has access to a source, in case of emergency." Obtaining said material would most likely have to wait until the day of their escape. He wasn't a small dragon, but the cell was, and there would be no way for him to hide it constantly. But, it was not a matter for now; Hearing the sound of footsteps, Biessend quickly tapped on the wall separating him and the acid. "Don't worry about it now, little one. Rest your wounds, we will continue when the proper time presents itself. And remember to hold your tongue."

And with those last few hushed words, Biessend curled up on the stone floor, letting out a loud huff as the fresh guards took their posts. This would be a long wait.

((Sorry, tossing in a time skip cuz it seemed like there wasn't much left to add :L ))

Sa’am followed suit and also went to sleep as Biessend lay down for the night. He wasn’t completely comforted by the thought that these people kept to themselves and he was extremely nervous about having to hold his tongue. He wasn’t the talkative kind but he had come to realise that when he was feeling edgy or uncomfortable, he tended to talk like a waterfall, and he didn’t always make a lot of sense then either. But he would try. He would try to follow the fume’s advice and not babble to the guards so as not to accidentally give away their plan.

The next day passed uneventful and the acid dragon kept pacing his cell in an attempt to calm his nerves but the restricted room didn’t offer much of a way for stress relief. The day after that passed in much the same way. Idle conversation with Biessend every now and then but generally there were too many humans around for them to even consider talking. The day after that passed in the exact same way.

It was only until four days after Sa’am’s fight in the arena that a disturbance occurred close enough to his cell that he actually understood what was going on. Instead of the guards preparing for another fight, they seemed to be preparing a cell opposite Biessend’s and Sa’am’s for a new arrival. “I thought it was a rare feat,” the acid dragon muttered, more to himself than to Biessend. However, he was completely transfixed by what was happening. Whatever the dragon was, the numbing agent they had used on Sa’am didn’t seem to work as well on the newcomer, who was kicking and roaring and hissing all over the place. The dragon was definitely putting up a fight and more than one imprisoned dragon joined the fray, roaring and kicking in their own cells.

Sa’am was not just a little scared that the guards would get the bad idea to pair him in a fight with that new dragon within the next few minutes. Nothing along those lines happened though, and the acid dared to breathe a sigh of relief. What he had not expected however was for the new dragon to smash against his cell door and creating the tiniest of cracks in the door.
Blinking, Sa’am held his breath and waited to see what would happen next.

The commotion didn't go unnoticed, to say the least. The new dragon's struggle enticed guards from all over to come and try to restrain it, and the noise made even the longest-standing dragons of the fights peek in the general direction with dull curiosity, perhaps even interest. Even Biessend was dumbstruck by the power the new dragon had as it threw itself around, using its powerful front and back legs to do damage wherever it could. Many walls were broken in the dragon's struggle, and another solid strike at Sa'am's door left a large enough hole for the little dragon to slink out, the hex which would have kept the little dragon securely weakened removed when the wall broke. Sa'am could make a run for it.

This was an opportunity which they could not replicate realistically. Knowing this, Biesend yelled at Sa'am "Quickly, help that dragon! It's our only chance!" This was a risk, and he knew it; if this failed, the three of them would surely get killed. But if the new dragon could break the walls binding them, it was a useful ally, and all Sa'am had to do was help pluck off the guards so that that dragon could free the rest of them. or, at least Biessend; Sa'am would need someone to carry him for them to escape easily.

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