„Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to the Arena! Take you seats and get ready for the most exciting Chariot Race of the Year! Rampant lions, swift horses, crazed boars, ferocious cold ones, savage wolves and putrid demon horses will race for victory today, driven by insane charioteers to even more insane speed and almost whipped to death!”
The small Goblin in colourful clothes, apparently the Arena’s director, was shouting at the peak of his voice, while the Arena was filled by the hum of hundreds of guests, who were anxiously awaiting the race. Most of them had already placed their bets, and several trolls were lining the staircases, supported by Goblin archers who lined the rim of the Arena walls, ready to quench any erupting squabbles at first sight.
The eight chariots stood lined up at the start, the animals were prancing in there reins and whips cracked as the charioteers kept the carnivorous beasts from devouring the each other. Two Goblins walked on the track, quarrelling, and pulled a Squig with a barrel strapped to his back behind them. Then one Goblin lit the barrel and the sneaky gits rushed into cover. The Squig managed to jumps, then the barrel exploded. The crowd was cheering and the chariots started to race down the track. The director-Goblin did not even try to comment the race, the crowd was too loud to even hear one’s own words.
Even before the first bend approached, the High Elf chariots were noticeably leading, followed by their dark brethren on their Cold One chariot and the numerous chaotic and orcy vehicles.
In the first turn itself, no one wanted to give away even a foot of place, and thus each driver was frantically cracking the whip to even speed up! The cold ones were already halfway through the bend, when three chariots crashed into its side, wrecking it completely. A crewmember of the beastmen’s chariot fell off, but before he could recover, he was shredded by the boar chariot’s wheel scythes.
The chariots were side sweeping and bumping each other relentlessly, and, while the first High Elf already turned onto the straight track again, the wolf-drawn Chaos chariot fell apart as he was clearly not constructed to bear so many hits.
The last drops of blood and guts had not yet landed on the other charioteers and the spectators, as the boar’s turned into the bend and behind the wrecked Dark Elf chariot, mincing the crew (which fell off during the crash) as well. The crowd was cheering, and the more vile amongst them were licking their face with beaming eyes.
The High Elf Horse Chariots still lead the field, and their fellows in the Lion Chariot tried to catch up with them, cracking the whip again and again. However, it proved that the driver had pushed his luck to far and the Chariot crashed into the wall at full speed, much to the amusement of the spectators. Sadly, it survived the accident mostly unharmed.
The remaining chariots were speeding down the track, while the Cold Ones broke from their reins and started devouring first the crew and then the spectators closest to the track.
Down at the other turn, the leading High Elves were a little too fast and rammed straight into the exploding barrels, while the other chariot got side swept to pieces. With great skill and even more luck, the remaining chariot sped up the track again, bumping into each other a little but doing no real harm.
The crowd already started throwing vegetables, rocks, knives, and even worse items, when the Cold Ones caught the scent of the Beastmen chariot and devoured it. The pulling Sabretusk (one already broke his neck earlier) broke loose and jumped at the foul Chaos chariot, which passed by unimpressed.
Then, the Cold Ones turned and attacked the now leading Lion chariot, ripping it apart while the crowd was cheering in ecstasy.
After they finished their meal, the cold ones tried to put the Orcs at the same fate, but they simply side swept them with their wheel scythes and passed, frantically whipping their boars in the attempt to catch up with the vile Chaos chariot. However, the boars proved to slow and the evil vehicle managed to get into the finish first.
Part of the crowd was still cheering, while others already began to draw their daggers, cursing the winners and glancing at the cheering spectators with threatening glares. Goblins swarmed the track, looting the fallen, the freed animals fed upon almost everything, the trolls pushed the crowd outside, clubbing them where they deemed necessary, the sun set and another exciting afternoon at the arena was over.
The director was already happily counting his money, when the hum of the people outside the arena suddenly changed. The random shouting got angrier, clinking metal could be heard and soon the first screams of pain erupted…