Since the start of Grim Arena thousands of grimmies have come to do battle, entering that brutal theatre for one reason or another. Some dreamed of earning vast wealth, others of achieving superstardom. Some came to prove they were the best fighters in the world, others just wanted a little excitement in their lives. Some entered as the result of a truth or dare game, and a couple of others accidentally ended up on the arena floor after blundering around the stadium in search of a bathroom. But whatever their motivations, most of them experienced a rude awakening. It’s one thing to watch two grimmies fight, to cheer and celebrate the violent entertainment before you. It’s quite another to be in the middle of the action, facing the punches, kicks, bullets, swords, hammers, harpoons, chainsaws, explosives, dinosaurs, and things you don’t even know the names of.
According to the League Against Hay Sports, an activist group which has long campaigned to have Grim Arena and other combat sports banned, 5000% of all Grim Arena competitors are brutally killed in their first match. Whilst this figure seems somewhat dubious, there’s no question that many grimmies end up being dismembered, decapitated, devoured, impaled, incinerated, or eviscerated at some point during their careers (usually at the end). Of the thousands who come to fight, to earn fame and glory, money and respect, most end up as anonymous remains gathered up and thrown onto the Stacks – the great piles of hay lining the road to the stadium.
More successful fighters, those who won a respectable number of fights and earned a large number of fans before falling, are awarded a better resting place. They are interred in the Grim Arena complex’s cemetery, where their tombstones stand as silent moments to their involvement in the sport. This may not be of much consolation to them for their horrific and agonising deaths, but the audience tends to appreciate it. Of course, these fighters don’t always end their relationship with Grim Arena upon their deaths. Some shun the dark embrace of the underworld, and return as... well, that’s another story.
But while so many grimmies perished, their lives ended for the entertainment of the crowd, a handful triumphed against all the odds. They won match after match, surviving while their opponents had their hay scattered across the arena floor. Those select few persevered through savage violence, cunning skill, or raw determination, and captured the imagination of the fans. As fun as it was to see random unknown grimmies killing each other, there was something special about the elite competitors who rose above the masses. People began to watch the events just to see them, either to cheer on those they supported or to boo and hiss at those they despised.
These select grimmies started to become almost as famous as the sport itself, and Grim Arena’s executives were quick to capitalise. They started using the word ‘legends’ to refer to them, and engaged in a huge marketing campaign to turn them into household names. They understood that colourful characters were a big part of the sport’s appeal, and a great way to keep the audience interested. Fights between two legends could be used sparingly as main events, the kind of bouts which could be promoted heavily and used to attract viewers and spectators who might not otherwise buy a ticket or purchase access to a pay-per-view broadcast. By making such matches special treats rather than everyday occurrences, they could make people salivate in anticipation. On a more regular basis, the legends could be sent into the arena to annihilate worthless grimmies who would otherwise be of little entertainment value, slaughtering them while their delighted fans looked on.
The executives proved to have made a smart decision. The audience loved the concept of legends, and the mystique which grew up around them. They looked forward to legend fights, and eagerly speculated about which upcoming grimmies might be able to survive their first match against a legend, or perhaps even become a legend themselves one day. Merchandise featuring the legends flew off the shelves, as the fans sought to drape themselves in the image or logos of their favourite fighters. This became almost as lucrative as ticket and pay-per-view sales. Bootleggers began to get in on the act, and would come to events to sell knockoffs and thus get a piece of the action. That trend proved short-lived, however. When the president of Grim Arena learned what was going on, he sent a few legends out to make examples of the bootleggers. There’s nothing like seeing a person ripped in half or getting their head blown off to make you rethink your business plans.
The episode of the bootleggers – or the Assertion of Intellectual Property Rights Incident, as the PR people referred to it in their press conference – heralded another use for the legends. They were signed to special contracts upon reaching legend status, which gave them numerous perks. In return, they were expected to do favours for Grim Arena on occasion. These favours ranged from attending promotional events to dealing with more sensitive matters. When pieces of a senator who had proposed a bill banning Grim Arena were found scattered around his office, for example, many people suspected the involvement of a legend. And whenever grimmies in the Clan District got a little out of hand, and started settling their rivalries in the street instead of the arena, the legends were sent in to crack heads and calm things down.
Given the nature of their profession, most legends experience a loss now and again when faced with another elite fighter. This tends to result in grievous wounds, since those bouts are always hard-fought. Sometimes heavily injured legends are carried out of the arena on a stretcher, and whisked away to Grim Tower – the complex’s administrative building. Apparently there’s a world class medical facility and team of surgeons located in the basement there, though no one else has ever been allowed in to see it. This secrecy, combined with the fact that legends have been known to recover from seemingly fatal injuries, has led some of the sport’s dirt sheets and websites to engage in a lot of rumour mongering and speculation. Some claim that Grim Arena has access to a special regeneration machine purchased from the government, or even acquired from aliens. Others claim that the legends who fall in the arena actually die, but are raised from the dead by necromancers or else replaced by clones.
The Grim Arena executives have poured scorn on such rumours in their public statements, but there’s no question that these tales have helped enhance the mystique which surrounds the mighty legends.









