The Arena of Progress

Grashok strode purposefully through the cavernous halls of his domain, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls as he approached the chamber. He had seen it filled with goblins before, but today he came for himself. The recessed arena, the glow of the chandelier, and the ring of stone steps all reminded him of the space’s potential.

It was more than a place for drills — it was a proving ground. The faint scent of sand and sweat lingered in the air as he stepped inside, and his eyes caught on the keystone embedded near the entrance. I’ve hardly scratched the surface of what this place can do, he thought.

Curiosity piqued, he tapped the stone, and a glowing menu appeared before him.

Training Options

Combat Training: N/A

Current Experience Bonus: 20%

The last line drew his attention. Twenty percent? Grashok thought, his brow furrowing in surprise. That’s a significant bonus… and it’s just sitting here unused? The realization was equal parts exciting and frustrating. He tapped the inactive Combat Training option, and to his surprise, the menu shifted to display his Fame screen.

A new subset of skills appeared, rows upon rows of combat abilities waiting to be unlocked. He tapped the first option.

Bare-Handed Fighting – Combat Art. Increases damage dealt and decreases stamina used when fighting without a weapon.

Bonus increases with mastery.

Current mastery rank: Locked.

{-note- Requires 10 Fame to unlock mastery rank F.}

Grashok stroked his chin, mulling over the information. So, I spend Fame to unlock a skill, then train it to earn mastery, which lets me unlock further ranks. Seems simple enough. As he scrolled through the list, the sheer variety of skills left him momentarily stunned. Thousands of options spread out before him: techniques for every weapon imaginable, ranged and melee alike, and even specialized support skills.

He couldn’t help but smile. And these aren’t just for me—once I unlock a skill, my minions can train in it too. His earlier assumptions about the training area seemed laughably small now.

He tapped the option for Bare-Handed Fighting, and with a brief glow, the skill unlocked. A nearby rack shimmered into existence, stocked with dull, wooden training weapons. Grashok nodded in approval. The dungeon was nothing if not efficient. He scrolled further and began unlocking more skills:

Dagger Fighting

Short Sword Fighting

Spear Fighting

Hand Axe Fighting

Sling Marksmanship

Throwing Weapon Marksmanship

Short Bow Marksmanship

Small Shield Mastery

With each selection, more racks and shelves appeared, filled with appropriate training tools. Wooden swords, crude spears, small shields, and even quivers of carved wooden arrows lined the room.

From the corner of his eye, Grashok noticed movement. Snippa and Chok, two of his goblin lieutenants, had paused in their patrol to watch him curiously from the doorway. Ignoring them for the moment, he approached one of the dummies, choosing a simple wooden sword from the rack.

The weapon felt light and unfamiliar in his hand, a far cry from his usual armament. He swung experimentally at the dummy, the dull thwack of wood against straw echoing in the chamber. A progress bar appeared above the dummy’s head, slowly creeping forward with each strike.

Intrigued, Grashok set the wooden blade aside and summoned his true weapon, Soulrend. The jagged, blackened longsword appeared in his grasp, its dark energy thrumming faintly. He slashed at the dummy, and the progress bar advanced noticeably faster. What caught his attention even more was the faint glow of experience points accumulating in the corner of his vision.

Experience? From training? He tested a few more strikes, watching the numbers climb. The harder he hit, the more points he earned. His final strike with Soulrend had netted him a full 26 experience points—comparable to the reward for a hard-fought battle.

Turning to Snippa and Chok, he barked, “Get practising! There’s work to be done!”

The goblins scrambled to comply, each grabbing weapons from the racks and setting to work on the dummies. Their awkward strikes were unpolished, but Grashok noted with satisfaction that their progress bars began moving.

From across the room, Skarn, his loyal wolf companion, padded in, ears perked with interest. The wolf watched the goblins swinging their weapons with the air of one observing a strange game. Deciding to join in, Skarn lunged at a wooden dummy, his jaws snapping shut around its arm. To Grashok’s amusement, the wolf earned his own progress bar—and a small trickle of experience.

“Good boy,” Grashok chuckled, watching as Skarn enthusiastically attacked another dummy, clearly enjoying the unexpected rewards.

As the training continued, Grashok’s mind churned with plans. This wasn’t just an arena; it was a forge for strength, a way to elevate his minions and himself far beyond their current limits. He could see the potential for strategy here—arming his forces, teaching them specialized skills, and preparing them for battles both inside and outside the dungeon.

Standing in the warm glow of the enchanted chandelier, surrounded by the sounds of practice and progress, Grashok felt a surge of purpose.