I was walking into the building for the weekly game after strapping on my armor in the car while carrying my short staff, trying to imitate a man’s swagger just a little. I never talked to anyone and after a little while the other players stopped trying to communicate with me, which worked for me just fine. It wasn’t a game with a lot of talking anyway
I sat on a bench in the gymnasium while I waited for the game to start, keeping my head down and staying unmoving until the whistle blew and the round began. It was a madhouse at first until people began being knocked onto their asses. Once you were down you were out of the game. So it was imperative to stay on your feet and whack people behind the knees or in the gut. I received a few blows, one to my upper arm and one in my side that almost knocked me down. But I held the spot for a moment then growled as I attacked the next poor bastard to get close to me.
Finally there were 4 of us. I was the smallest of the group, but the thinnest and quickest too, which bode well for me. The ref re-emphasized the rules of no head, groin or neck shots and I took the time to size up my competition. I recognised 2 of my 3 competitors. I was relatively new to the group, having just moved to the beautiful city of North Las Vegas from Kingman, Arizona because Dad got a promotion that brought him here. He was all for it anyway since it was freaking Las Vegas. I wasn’t so happy with it because I had to leave my friends, especially Connor. I missed Connor so much it was stupid. He and I used to do everything together and wouldn’t be separated. His parents were like second parents to me and visa versa with him and my Dad. I missed HIM, not the town though, even though that’d been where I was born and where my Mom had died. I was happy to leave the small town minds and the memory of my mom’s illness and death in that small house. Dad had perked up significantly since the move 7 months ago and I couldn’t blame him. But I digress.