Sweat pours from Grantz brow as he punches the heavy bag. He has been punching non-stop for an hour now. A voice from the entrance of the room wakes him from the trance of punching.
"Grantz, hurry and wash up I need to lock up the stadium."
The man leaves immediately. Grantz collects his possessions and head for the bath house. In the bath house he strips the clothes he trained in revealing a strong body with properly toned muscles. He dips himself in the large pool of hot, steaming water. His height forces him to move deeper into the pool. Only near the center can he relax where the water is over nine feet deep. After thoroughly cleaning himself he dries and clothes himself then heads on home.
His home is a simple hovel made by carving into stone and putting wood in the hole for a door. Inside lies a small but somewhat comfortable bed, a burnt out cook-fire with a makeshift stove on it, a small wooden table with a chair to match. On the table are Grantz most prized possessions, a quill next to three bottles of ink, five scrolls and a few pages of paper. He lays on his bed and closes his deep-black eyes. Rubbing his hand through his raven-black hair he starts to reminisce about the past.
Grantz was an Orphan in this city. Having nothing on him he worked as a servant on the stadium to earn his supper. One day one of the students who had been practicing pankration decided to test his skill on Grantz. No one stopped the student, after all who cares about an orphan servant boy? If the orphan boy dies then someone will just throw him out for the dogs to eat. The student threw a punch at Grantz and something unexpected happened, the punch was countered! Amazing! A 16 year old who was larger and taught how to fight was knocked out by a boy of 10, with one punch no less!
After the incident the master of the student took Grantz on as a pupil. Grantz learned well and fast in the art of pankration, though he did prefer the boxing part over the wrestling part. He was also taught reading, writing and numbers. He was not a genius but he was apt and eager so he continued to be taught. Still the other students couldn't stand him, how dare a mere servant mix in with the highborn? So the other students decided to teach him his place. First they fought him one on one but each were knocked out by a few punches. Next they took him in groups but that failed as well. Thus no one dared mess with him ever again.
Six years have passed since then and Grantz grew harder, better, faster and stronger. The days passed on normally, training and studying. Some of the other students learned to accept him and those who didn't respected him albeit grudgingly. Then one day Grantz was given a letter. And thus the end begins.
Grantz opens the letter and reads it.
I give you this letter as an invitation to a tournament. We have invited strong people from across entire world
to attend. We hope that you participate as well as we hoe to see your skill as the greatest pankration or rather boxer in the City of Pugnus.
On the back of the letter was drawn a map of the way to the tournament, it was a weeks journey on horse. After reading the letter something triggered inside his head. A sudden compulsion to attend the tournament and win it nagged at his thoughts. He could not ignore the compulsion. In the dead of the night he took all of his belongings, stole food from a house in the market area and stole a horse. The compulsion drove him to ride the horse at a deadly pace for an entire day. He reached his destination but the the horse was dead.
In front of Grantz was the place where his compulsion forced him to go. It looked the same as the stadium in his town, only ten times as large. The gate opens for him and he enters. The moment he is inside the door close behind him and his mind is free once more. The compulsion has ended.
His head ached and he was confused. He procceeds to rub his temples and blink.
"Where? How.... did I get here? Ugh..."
Grantz walks aimlessly trying to gather his thoughts.
"There.... was a letter.... It was an invitation. something about a tournament?"
On and on he walked without really knowing where he was going.
"A horse..... I think I stole it.... but its dead. Why would i steal a dead horse?"
All the memories of the past few days feel like a jumble. He felt scatterbrained . Thinking seems to be useless now.
"A punching bag? ugh..."
Without noticing he reached the top of the stadium where spectators would watch the combatants duke it out in the ring. He looks around and notices other people around him. They look as confused as he felt. Suddenly without warning an earthquake rocks the ground. The sky and the air itself crack into pieces. A white light forms on the sky consuming everything in sight. As Grantz falls to his knees he hears a cold, merciless voice.
"Hello little lab rats, welcome to the birth of a new world. You are quite lucky! ha ha ha ha ha!"
The light consumes all and everything fades away.