Rondo a'la Turca isn't your usual manticore. He can speak, eat with a knife and fork, and even dance a merry jig every now and then. But what he can't do is fight. So, every time he is faced with a problem, he runs away. Fast. But one time, a deadly foe was faster than himself...
The manticore was faced with a minotaur. His pit-fighting had gotten harder with the months. Simply a follower of the Goddess of the Moon, Marais, he had been taken into the service of orcish slavemaster Rikka Goldheart. He had fought kobold, troll skirmishers, even sabre cats, but never a minotaur. He hoped someone would buy him from his captor.
Rememebering his skills, he fired a missile from his tail. The poisoned tip struck minotaur flesh and bounced off harmlessly. The minotaur charged, and the manticore slithered out of the way, sending the minotuar plummeting into the wall behind him. The minotaur stood up, and took another shot.
Rondo decided now would be the time. Nobody in the slave arena knew he could speak. Speech was not something expected from a creature like himself.
"Come fight me like a real man," teased Rondo. The minotaur looked truly shocked at this. He ran back to the gate and started pounding at it to get free. Archers shot down the minoutaur. Fire tipped arrows dug deep into his skin, spraying cooked blood and gore everywhere.
Slavemaster Rikka would not be happy. Rondo just hoped his wrath was not too dire.
