Final Description of Adobium_Tara Massey

On a very different land within a very different world, an ancient era is frozen in time despite the glaring heat that scorched land. The sun in autumn was relentless now like it was in summer, spring and even winter. The idea of winter in a land such as this was nothing more than the longing wish of the heat crazed beings that resided there. Here, in Desolace, winter was defined only by the harsh, sub-zero, sand-filled winds that lashed across the environment and its inhabitants like a bullwhip with a lead coated tip. The winds were cold enough to freeze the sweat that formed on ones brow during a still moment, while the sun remained hot enough to evaporate the water from the earth. There was no such thing as rain. Not here. The concept would be inconceivable to the land’s natives if rain did not exist in other parts of planet. Just the opposite of rain happened. Moisture from within the ground, absorbed from water sources elsewhere in the world, would steam upward in thin streamers. Luckily it wasn’t a frequent occurrence. Water only made its way that close to the soil surface in Desolace when there had been an extreme amount of rainfall from a neighboring land.  Yet when it did happen, it was a sickening taunt, and it only made being alive more miserable. With temperatures averaging around 240 degrees F. the addition of humidity was suffocating. 

The need for water was a cruel ruler. There is never enough for everyone, and no one wanted to give up what water they did find for any price. The rich have water, and those who have water are rich. It is a wealth rarely found, but often lost.
As the Games draw near, tourist come, and always they bring water in hopes of selling it to the natives. And always it evaporates long before they make it to the heart of Desolace, where the games are hosted. They are always astonished by the feat, and never know how they have been spared. One doesn’t walk into a room of starving lions holding a steak, so why would one walk down the streets of dehydrated, thirsting, creatures with a bottle of water?

The inhabitants here are of three kinds, those that are hardened by the environment, forged tough by the heat and grit, and those that are weakened by it, broken down by the sun that beats upon them with more force than they can withstand. The third kind is tourists, people that come from far away paradises to see the games of the gods and pity the natives that for whatever reason, reside in the earthly hell. The natives hate the tourist and their luxury. Yet, they tolerate them because tourists are not accustomed to survive in Desolace and watching them suffer helps to satisfy their jealously of wanting a life they can never have. More than this, tourist always mean the games and the games always mean Dirt Hounds. Dirt Hounds are valuable creatures, probably more so than water, and anyone who has them knows to guard them well. They are the difference between life and death for those who live in a land where the only access to water is found at least twenty feet underground and Dirt Hounds are about the only creature on the planet that are capable of digging through the first ten feet of rock and shale that blankets Desolace. Dirt Hounds are not natural inhabitants here, and the only way to get them is during the Games. The tourist bring them in small packs, and their acclimation to an abundant way of life allowed the natives to steal one or two without raising too much concern. The gods also send Dirt Hounds to the people of Desolace. It is a small gift when compared to the lifestyle of the natives but one for which they are endlessly grateful. Dirt Hounds all but migrate to the dry hell with the influence of the gods, and for a few days in a year, there are enough water holes dug at one time for everyone. Once water is reached it has to be drank within a few moments and from the bottom of the hole. To bring it up to the surface is to watch it disappear almost instantly, and trying to save it in the hole for later only results in the sun evaporating the moisture from the dirt around the sides of the hole dug, as well as the water found at the bottom.

The Games of the Gods are an annual tournament held in honor, or more like continuation, of the affinity for creation the gods developed upon the completion of crafting Adobium, world of the blessed dead, named for the mortal creatures that are upon it, all hard pressed to survive when all are doomed to die. It is also their battle for supremacy. During the molding of Adobium the gods remained at constant war with one another. All had their own vision, which was superior over the others, and all felt strongly to see it through. As a solution the Games are hosted, and the victor is crowned ruler until the next tournament the following year.  Each of the sixteen gods will design and create a creature for the sole purpose of fighting in the tournament. There are fifteen battles divided into three rounds with one final showdown. All battles are to take place in the arena constructed solely for this blood sport, and all fights are one on one with the winner qualifying for the next round upon the death of its opponent. No forfeits, no draws.  The first fourteen matches take place over the course of fourteen days. One battle is fought each day despite the severity of the previous one. The final spectacle is held one week later. The tournament winner is matched against the champion from the preceding year. This battle decides the god that will reign supreme until the next celebration of the games. Should the current champion win, the ruling god will not change, should the new finalist win, its creator is crowned, the new king/queen.

The arena is not a massive one (about the size of a football field), but constructed of concrete, stone, and iron it is exceptionally solid. The oval shaped battlefield eliminates the possibility of taking refuge in a corner and its high walls are free of footholds. Yet, to ensure unfaltering captivity, the arena is topped with a grid of three inch thick iron bars. Around its perimeter sixteen wooden rectangles lie flush with its hard packed, sun baked shale floor. Beneath each one is the holding cell for every god’s fresh new gladiator. And when its time comes, the ceiling of the cell, is lowered down on one end to form a ramp, allowing the gladiator to make its entrance. Above all this the spectators view from the safety of bleacher like seats built atop a scaffold structure around the arena. The seating row closest to all the action is no less than six feet above the grid. A narrow awning leans over the pathetic tourists, but dies very little to break the heat searing down upon them.

The gods judge the spectacle from within the heavens. A climate much more suitable for enjoyment. There, they watch their creations decide the new ruler for the year to come. Sixteen gods, all ruling individual components of life, and all believe themselves to be the ideal ruler. Yet, regardless of their self opinions, their skills as gladiator designers are not equal, and records of past rulers show a definite pattern. The gods have no real limitations on the blueprints for their soldiers, other than its make up must consist only of components found in nature. Last years champion, Oratos is the imagination of Raelent, god of strength and physical power. A beastly brute constructed of nearly raw power. Word is, Graeus, god of determination and relentless perseverance, has the makings of a new champion. Then again, Graeus is always determined to win. Yet, whispers from the caretakers seem supportive this year. There is talk of small beast, with damaging mouth and an endless stamina modeled after the ultimate gladiator from a different planet. Unlike the usual battle creatures that maintain the instincts of the natural world from which they were molded, Graeus' soldier's mentality comes from referencing an instinct that was altered and developed through the process of selective breeding. It has no sense of self preservation, nor does fear force it to fight for survival. It is an intense desire for physical contact, an obsession to finish the given task, the fear, respect, and unfaltering adoration of its master, a seemingly limitless pain threshold, no comprehension of defeat, and heart that push it to win. A creature that is victorious until its last breath. A winner in last place, an alpha even when on bottom. Graeus was determined to win.