"Good afternoon, sir. What can I help you w-" The elf girl behind the counter stopped mid sentence when she looked up from her paperwork to see Morden in front of her. Morden pretended not to notice her blush as he leaned on the counter. Her black hair that went to her shoulders had streaks of white in it which complimented her oval face and short figure.
"Actually yes. I heard from someone that I can get paid to fight here. Is that true?"
"Y-yes! The arena is a great place to earn money and even glory! Those worthy of the fame will carry it wherever they go in the world. The highest title, 'Machon's Right Hand', is currently held by Crach the Sly. If you wish to take it, you will need to work your way up the board." She spoke the rehearsed lines that she said a thousand times already with composure only after she remembered that she was a receptionist.
"Interesting. I will look into this more at a later time, but right now I just need information." Morden looked at the nameplate the receptionist was wearing. It read "Milluiel".
'Beautiful name,' he thought. As the receptionist was about to reply, a loud boisterous voice from the left side of the room called for him.
"Welcome to my home, human!" A tall humanoid walked towards him from a hallway with arms spread wide as if showing off the place. He was 6'8" (2.03m) with a white complexion to his skin but was abnormally hairy. He looked like a man in his fifties due to the slight wrinkles and scar on his left eye but his vigor and build said he was no older than thirty. His wide smile looked as menacing as it looked inviting, like a wolf inviting a sheep for dinner. He wore a red satin shirt that exposed his incredibly muscular and hairy chest and fancy white pants that were a little to tight for Morden's liking.
"And you are?" Morden asked with skepticism.
"I am Machon! I was told that a human has come to my arena! I haven't seen a human in more than thirty years!" He walked over and embraced Morden in what he could only describe as an awkward yet strangely familiar hug.
After the embrace stopped, Machon grabbed him by the shoulders and said, "Come to my office, I'll answer your questions and maybe you can help me with something too."
Morden hesitated for a moment but agreed. He looked to Milluiel and thanked her for her help and walked down the winding hall with Machon. A short walk later and Machon came to a large door. After unlocking it with a magical key, the energy burst out making the voices gasp in awe.
'It's just a magical door lock, why is it special? They didn't do that with the one at the inn.' Morden asked himself. He ignored them and continued inside the office. The lavish furniture and large desk showed the importance of the figure who worked there. Machon walked around the desk and sat down in the large chair behind it and inviting Morden to sit on the couch across from the desk.
"As I said, I am Machon, owner and maintainer of Machon Arena. I nurture talent here and grant legend to all that are worthy. I lavish those who are powerful with fame, wealth, women, and whatever they want. Of all my years living in the city, I have not had a human visit my arena. You are always so busy fighting things for work that you have no time to fight for fun!" He smiled ear to ear as he reflected on his memories of battle.
He folded his hands on his desk and leaned forward and said slowly in a deep voice, "No fun means all work. You don't look like the type to fight for fun. Why are you hear?" His tone sent shivers down Morden's spine.
"I am not here for work. I don't think I'll be working for a while..." Morden hesitated for a moment as he chose his words. He was already cursing for dealing out this much information already.
"I need information and information is rarely free. If I need money, I need to know of a way to make it consistently. That is why I was checking your arena. I want to see if I can make some soma in the case that I need it."
Machon thought for a few seconds before replying, "You are welcome to fight in my arena any time. A human fighting will draw in a massive crowd and in turn, money. Whether you lose or win, you will earn a lot. As form information, maybe I can help you with that."
"I'm sorry but I have to ask what the cost of your information is. Nothing is free." Morden was always skeptical of handouts, especially when he unknowingly received a handout from a witch in one of his hunts and it nearly cost him his life. As it turns out, people with ulterior motives do not care about others in order to achieve their own goals.
"I want you to fight in my arena once. It does not have to be today or any time soon. I just want to show people how truly viable humans are. It reestablishes everyone's confidence in the holder's of peace around our world. Also it brings in lots of money."
As he was planning on fighting eventually, Morden agreed. "This one is just out of curiosity, aren't you human? Why don't you just fight in the arena if you want to show what human's can really do."
"Close but no cigar. My mother was human, my father was a were beast, wolf type. Hence my large figure and hairy physique. I don't quite have the strength of a natural human, but I have the instincts, reflexes, and experience to make up the difference.
"Second, I am the owner and champion of the arena. Nobody has ever beat me before and nobody ever will. Still I am not a real human, just half."
'I guess it makes sense. Having the owner of the arena fight is kind of ridiculous especially if he is the strongest contestant.' Morden thought on his next question.
"What do you know about ogres? Specifically how to kill one." He decided asking the question bluntly.
The weight of the question and all the things it implied brought a heavy feeling to the room.
"Do you understand what you are asking? I hope that you are asking because you love history." Machon furrowed his brow while waiting for a response.
"Definitely for history, but I am not willing to expose any more details."
"Hmmm... I know that they were created by the demons specifically to fight humans and angels. What I can tell you with my experience of sparring with humans and other creatures out there, angel runes aren't infallible."
"What do you mean?" Those words could have meant any number of things and Morden needed clarity.
"There are ways to lessen or mitigate the effects of magic, everybody knows that. Although they are much more complex and use different forms of it, angel runes are another form of magic."
'Well fuck me I guess,' were the only words Morden could think.
"If, hypothetically speaking, you were looking for a way to defeat one, you would need to be superior in at least one aspect. So much so that it is enough to overcome the vast distance bridging their superiority. Strength, speed, range, numbers, or cunning, but never magic."
"Thank you for that information. I was not aware of the nullifying aspect of angel runes. I'll keep that in mind. That aside, is there anyone in this city in need of help from a human?"
"You know for someone who "won't be working for a while', you sure did ask for work fast hahah!" Machon changed the mood quickly with a hearty laugh making the heavy mood feel light almost instantly.
"Yeah I don't know of anyone specifically, but you can always look at the boards of various guilds in the area or just ask around at a bar or something. People are always looking for help."
"I appreciate it. I guess from the years of working and always doing something, habits are harder to kill than, I guess an ogre." Morden chuckled at his bad attempt at a joke but Machon laughed so loud that he would have thought he told the best joke in the world.
"It was wonderful seeing another one of my people after so long, but I must say that it is time you go. I have work to do and it seems like you do to. Stay safe my friend." Machon stood up and walked Morden to the door. After exchanging goodbyes, Morden left down the hall towards the exit.
He stepped outside into the busy street and looked around at his surroundings thinking about where he needed to go next.
'I need more information on these ogres. I need to prepare properly, but how in the hell can I do that without even knowing how to prepare. It used to be angel runes but if what Machon told me was true, then what can I do?' The thoughts pestered him for a short while when the voices all started to grumble around him angrily.
The sound was far too familiar to the night before when the barrier was assaulted. The uneasy feeling came from directly above him and felt as though it would fall onto him any moment. Right when Morden felt that it would surely collapse onto him, the feeling moved down the street at a disturbing rate.
Quickly looking around, there were only a few people who also seemed to notice this disturbance, but do to their confused face, Morden knew that they didn't feel what he felt. Morden moved through the crowd towards the uneasy feeling. Years of battle experience had conditioned him to go towards the danger, not run from it.
He weaved through the streets following the terrible feeling of dread. It reminded him of fighting a banshee that released all of its horrid past onto its victim. He pushed through the crowd with ease but with care as to not hurt those around him. When he finally caught up to the eerie energy, it stopped and hovered right above a small hut in a wall right in between several building taller than it.
The energy dissipated along with the grumbling voices and seemed to flow into the hut. The hut looked disturbingly old compared to the rest of the architecture around it and had two windows that were so dirty he could have sworn it was abandoned. Morden was about ten feet from the door and noticed the sign on the door read 'Closed'. The next moment, some shuffling next to the door flipped the sign to read 'Open' then went away. When he walked up to the door and was about to open it, the door opened on it's own.
It was impossible to see further than several feet inside due to the brightness outside so Morden prepared himself and walked in. Whatever was in there clearly called out to him and he was now here. What was it and what did it want?
Adjusting his vision to the darkness, he noticed the entire building was filled to the brim with old and very thick books covered in dust. The smell in the room was absolutely putrefying as a bubbling cauldron on top of an open flame emitted a clear smoke into the air. The smoke caused a haze that made it hard to see to the other end of the store and also covered the face of the robed figure right next to the cauldron that was staring at him with glowing red eyes.