The steel barred door is flung open, two roman soldiers enter, pikes draw and eyes on all of the slaves within, any quick movements would be answered by the blade.
Two more soldiers then enter, dragging in the jackal, beaten badly but still alive. They threw him to the ground like an old rug before leaving like they entered, still keeping watch on the slaves.

The majority of the slaves did not care for seeing another, one who might not even make it into the next week. One however did take an interest, a tanuki, a slave from the far east.
He tried to clean up the jackal, until consciousness was regained and he was pushed away.
“What do you remember?” Inquired the tanuki, but spoken in a tongue familiar to the ears, clearly a trader who spent time in the sands of the east.
The jackal looks to the tanuki in deep pain “I don’t remember, that is the problem.”

Far from the slaves, living in luxury, living like a celebrity. The beast of the east, once a simple slave captured from the far east and brought to Roma for fodder, only to best all expectation.
The elk lay back on pillows of silk, surrounded by fruits and wines of all galore, yet he suffered from his own success.
His manager stands beside him detailing the loss of interest people are having in his games, loss of interest in him.
“You are too good. Outside of games that are clearly suicide, there is nothing to challenge you. People don’t like that; the gamblers especially don’t like that.”

Taking a swig of wine, the elk looks to his manager with a face longer than normal “What do I do then? Throw a game? That won’t work, it will be seen through like water.”
Pondering an answer, inspiration strikes the manager “Then we will pull a stunt so crass and unbelievable that people will never stop talking about it.”

The door to the slave pens opens once more. Escorted by a soldier, the Elk’s manager looks over each of the slaves, wanting to handpick the combatant for his little stunt.
Instantly looking over all of the slaves smaller than himself, he notices the jackal. “The black hound, what of that one?”
The soldier’s look of indifference and superiority told a story in itself “A simple slave from the deserts of Africa, a scavenger most likely.” An almost mocking description from the soldier’s mouth, but the perfect candidate.
“This will be the one.” The manager confirmed while agreeing to his own choice, his hubris congratulating itself prematurely.

The grand day has arrived, the jackal is pushed out from the slave pens and into the combat arena, the light outside, blinding compared to the darkness of the pens.
Once his eyes adjusted, he saw fate, the elk standing on the far side of the arena with weapons lying on the floor between the two of them.
Armed with simple steel and a single piece of armour, the jackal knew that his life was likely going to end soon.

Both sides approached the centre to chose their weapon, the size disparity between them would lead a betting man to believe there would be no chance in a jackal victor.
Just as the first words were spoken between them, words almost mocking if not vaguely threatening that came from the elk’s mouth “You and I are going to have some fun out here.”
A single simple sword for the jackal who had never wielded a blade once before, whereas the experienced elk knew what he was doing with his net and polearm.
Then began the dance of death. The two combatants circling each other, like predators waiting for the opportunity to strike.

The jackal made a couple swings, swings that the elk watched to map out and predict the jackal with.
For when the next swing of the sword was made, it quickly found itself entangled in the elk’s net, this allowed a quick jab in for the elk.
The jackal’s wound was superficial, but damaging the flesh wasn’t the elk’s intention. The greater intention quickly made itself apparent when the jackal released their sword from the net. 
The waist strap for their underwear was the only victim, this exposed the jackal to all that was around him.

There was laughter and cheering from the crowd as the elk was clearly toying with the jackal at this point. Yet toying as he was, his eyes were fixed on the greater prize, the prize hanging between the jackal’s legs. “Let us even the competition, shall we?” the elk proudly proclaimed as he pulled a single string on his armour and too exposed himself.
The two naked combatants stood before each other as the crowd of the coliseum went wild with cheering.

The elk threw the net to the ground as he spun the polearm around, showing off his skill with the weapon. He spun his body around slightly and showed off his rump to add a slight mockery to his boast “How do you like the view?” he questioned, already knowing the answer.
“Considering where you’re constantly looking, I could ask you the same” the jackal retorted with a matching mockery.
“I’m watching your feet, nothing more” the elk snapped back trying to maintain composure as the dance continued.

The skill needed to counter the jackal was far below the elk’s own personal skill, to the point where he attempted to counter single handed, just to prove his skill to all watching.
His vanity and showmanship was quickly exploited as the jackal was able to grab the elk’s discarded net with his freehand and disarm the elk with his own technique.
Caught out and defenceless, the elk had to think fast, grabbing a new weapon was the plan.
Just as he turned to bolt for the weapons, his leg was caught by the net, downing him to the floor.

The jackal pulled the net back further, pulling the elk towards him before putting the sword into the ground, pinning the net to the ground with it.
The elk looks back to the jackal who now towers above him. “To answer your question from before. I like the view a lot and I intent to capitalise on it.” The jackal comments as he rubs his sheath to quickly erect himself.
Kneeling down on the elk’s level, the jackal aligns his tip with the elk’s anus. The crowd are still with a stunned silence for what they are witnessing.

The jackal’s arm reached forward and grasped onto the elk’s antler, pulling the elk back but also pulling the jackal forward and further into the elk. Their acts of crass debauchery kept everyone entranced. Civilian, guard, even the emperor was stunned by the acts which happened before them.
Starting as a single person cheering on the sexually depraved display, the crowd as a whole began to cheer on, cheering on the nobody gladiator who was rough handling the modern face of the gladiatorial games.

The cheering spurred on the combatants who kept on rutting under the midday sun, rutting until there was no longer any holding back. The jackal released his load into the elk, releasing control of their antler as well. Sitting back and feeling pride in his performance, watching as his load was slowly dripping out of the elk’s rump. The jackal weakly got to his feet and walked around to the elk’s head.

The elk look up at the jackal once again as they got to their knees. With both eyes looking deeply into one another, the jackal leaned in and locked lips with the elk.
The lips locked as the tongues twisted and the mutual respect and admiration could be tasted between them.