A booming voice coming from the far end of the halls woke Brakt for his slumber.  It took him a few minutes before he realised that this voice was actually hear, and not just in his nightmares.  Since the Anti-Paladin had attempted to curse him in the most recent match, his dreams had been filled of that booming voice, and visions of a not quite spider/not quite woman almost seeming to call him...

He made his way to the dojo in time to see Latro disappear behind his Marter's door... As much as he hated to admit it, he admired the Paladin.  There was much he could learn from the man.

Turning his attention back to the Dojo, he took his great Fauchard from the wall, and began to practice, the large weapon cramped in such tight quarters.

As soon as Latro stepped in, Maelstrom frowned. “Great, now I’ll have to purify the place.” He looked after the two. Josep’s aura unsettled him just as much as Latro’s. He couldn't say why though. For every Hiro, there was a Josep. For every Josep, there was a Latro. It was odd how the world had to balance itself out. But it still felt like, there was one more guildmaster needed. He couldn’t figure out who, but he was sure of it.

Seeing as this was guildmaster business, Maelstrom would rather not stick around. He heard Brakt practicing, Maelstrom already finished his practicing. He was Hiro's top student! With a quick bow to each of them he headed off to the arena for a sweet roll or maybe a match. “Fight with honor and integrity.”

"You have fun being a stick in the mud." Tina waved Maelstrom off, accidentally spilling some on the floor. She didn't often come to the dojo, and when she did she rarely trained, choosing instead to sit to the side and comment on the others' techniques. "Brakt, you look completely ridiculous, you know that right? What kind of weapon even is that? What's even the point of the point on the back?"

Brakt jumps when Tina sneaks up behind him, and growls at her under his breath as he digs the the polearm out of the wall.  "Of course I look ridiculous to you... But don't you think that you look equally ridiculous floating around the place like you do?  As for the point of the point..."

Brakt effortless swings the weapon around, catching Tina behind her leg and pulling her to the ground, the weapon poised at her throat with a twinkle in his eye. "Everything must come down eventually.  I just... Help them along the way.

"Dude." Tina gently pushed the point of the weapon to the side and brought herself back to her feet. "You need to chill. Here, lemme buy you a drink. I need a new one anyway, you spilled mine." She looked forlornly at the drink now seeping into the floor, then jogged off towards the arena bar.

Tinny Tina strutted into the bar, feeling on top of the world after her free-for-all victory. "Hey barkeep, gimme the stongest drink you've got." Drink in hand, she added her own little something to it before downing it in one go, then floated over to the banister overlooking the arenas. "Wasn't Master Hiro supposed to be in a match right now? Let's see how he's dooooof. Wish I hadn't looked now."

The sound of crutches could be heard in the hallway. Click click clunk. Click Click Clunk. Maelstrom huffed and puffed down the corridor. He refused to let the clerics heal him all the way. He wouldn’t let his body be healed until his dignity was restored. “I was supposed to be the best! I train every day. How could I lose?” He was happy for Tinny. He really was but a little broken inside. As such, his head was still bandaged and he was still on crutches to mimic his internal suffering. Nonetheless, he was excited to see the Guildmaster fight. “Hiro would show them! I hope I’m not late.” By the time, Maelstrom made it over Tinny was already there. Maelstrom grimaced, “I guess she had a head start because she didn’t have to see the clerics first.” He almost turned and went the other way, but sighed and hobbled next to Tina. Looking over, he saw the fight.

Maelstrom gritted his teeth. “What?” Latro abandoning his minions to their fate wasn’t surprising. But Hiro fallen shook him to his core. He felt a slight anger, how could Hiro fall to a man that couldn’t even do a pushup? Maelstrom gripped the hand railing, too shocked to do much more. “Does this mean there is a new champion?” he murmured. Perhaps Maelstrom would fight Josep Gavinho. Perhaps this is how he would restore his honor. “That’s it! I’ll fight iceman or is it fire guy now?” Maelstrom knew he couldn’t beat Josep in his current state, but he would train. And then, he would challenge Josep. Grinning from ear to ear, Maelstrom finally had a solution to his problem.  Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to let the clerics heal the rest of him. That way, he could train. "Have fun Tina! It's time to hit the dojo!"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:29, Thu 11 Feb 2016.

After an intense championship, the first new champion in three years claims his prize. Many betting men lost a lot of gold because of that wily sorcerer...many more became rich. Riots broke out, wardens and arena guards had to quell the crowd with might and magic. Temporary martial law was declared near the arena and the city saw a spike in crime. This was not unusual in the Colosseum City. A central hub for gladiators, mercenaries, spice trade, slave trade, magic item trade, and dirty dealings, Swordaine was a bastion of danger and intrigue. The gladiators fame had only grown since the city endured a cataclysmic event nearly two decades ago.

Days later, the arena recovered and was back to business as usual. Bets on the sorcerer, Josep, rose drastically and the bets on Hiro dropped. Others saw little to no change in their numbers. The city would take longer to recover, but for now, the arena was once again roaring with cheers and echoing with hecklers demanding blood...

Jayce opens his eyes, awakening from his traumatic stupor. He is hungry, body only skin and bones. He tries to raise his arm almost unable to move. All around him is darkness. A sweet voice calls out to him, begging he go back into his slumber. But alas, Jayce is not ready to go into that good night. Being weak of body, he remembers the power of his mind. He closes his, not used to the discipline any longer required to complete his spell casting. From outside his coffin in the ground, a noise could be heard. The earth rumbles, and an explosion follows. Dirt blasts into the sky a good twenty feet and hundreds of monsters and animals come running out of the hole. Moving in, one could see the coffin broken from the top as his companion, Sasha, carries him the ten feet up.

Memories start to flood him. Who he is, what he can do, and how he is to reclaim his strength...his power. "Haran...." And lastly, his humiliation. "In time..." Jayce remembers. First, kill the grave keeper for thinking him dead. Second, amass muscle and knowledge. Times have changed and he needs to familiarize himself once more with the laws of magic.

Haran stepped out of the shadows and frowned. "There's been a disturbance." "I know. What is it? Where is it coming from?" Haran began scrying for the source of this inconsistency. He knew it had to be close. Such things needed to be handled quickly before they grew out of control. He closed his eyes and clasped his hands together, searching for the source of this disruption. "It's him Haran!" Haran smiled "What an unexpected surprise."

There were only two people in this arena that had either bested Haran or claim close - Josep and Jayce. Josep was champion, though Haran would remedy that soon enough. And Jayce had disappeared. Or at least had. "Some people just don't know when to stay dead. Jayce, Jayce, I'm coming for you. There will be no coming back this time."

Ever since the School of the Voiceless Dragon's guildmaster lost the championship belt to the master of the Thaumaturgical Alliance, the arena hasn't been the same.

Some say the powerful monk, Hiro, went into exile after his defeat to hone his skills and reach greater enlightenment. Others say he merely retired or grew weary of running his dojo at the arena.

The powerful sorcerer and new champion, Josep Gavinho enjoyed the perks of the position for some time, but stopped competing and many of his students did as well leaving the arena to wonder if their positions would last long...

Over a year has passed since then...



As mages and warriors volley for superiority in the ring, another guild stood out among the crowd, a guild with calamitous intent...

Shadow's Caress remained hidden in the shadows since their guildmaster's defeat at the hands of the Voiceless Dragon's leader. Now that the Voiceless were no longer in the seat of power they once were, the dark guild began biding its time, growing its fame and resources through smaller matches that took place throughout the year. Now the sinister dark knight known as Latro Dectus has challenged the new champion and the arena has begun buzzing with whispers and rumors once again.

Some say the great mage has grown soft with inactivity and his head will soon be removed from his shoulders. Others scoff, stating that the mage who took down Hiro could surely handle some two-bit drowish knight.

With the Voiceless leader missing, and the Thaumaturgical champion having been out of the game so long, the crowd can only wonder what this next championship will hold...
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:56, Mon 27 Nov 2017.

Lyn walked into the walled city in wonder, surprised that such a place could exist only on the spectacle of the Arena.  It was nothing like what she had expected, but so little of the world outside had been.

Making her way between the carts parked on the street, she stopped at a message board to read the current events, and gasped when she had arrived just in time for the championship!

It wasn't due to start for a few days yet, so the young elf made her way towards the other arena, where she had heard rumours were swirling of a barbarian and sorcerer fighting, and thought it would help pass the time waiting for the fight to start.

Vry stands at the front of the crowd as the championship match is about to start. One could think that those around her had offered her the spot, given her height... But in truth, not one of the common people here to watch had felt the slightest inclination to do her any favors. It was not fear, not most of all either way - they had only heard of one match she had been in. Rather, they detest her and find her unnatural in a particularly unnerving sense. Still now, she has a couple of feet of clear space around her. A shadowy-gray mist-like cloud about the size of Vry’s head floats next to her right shoulder, swirling and changing shape constantly.
”Easy, Taff, I will find you a body soon enough. You did not take care of your last form, and this is your own fault.”
The champion enters the arena, but Vry does not cheer. Patiently, she waits to see her guild master enter, and command the arena in that way that only he can.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:24, Wed 06 Dec 2017.

As the contestants enter the arena and take positions, Two technicians in Thaumaturgical Alliance livery arrive in the uppermost tier of the coliseum. They take out their toolboxes and start installing a huge screen on the opposite side of the officials booth.

People ask questions, and they simply answer:
“We’ve been asked to install the latest Jumbotronik Replay Screen, apparently you’re going to need it.”
“Why??” enthusiasts ask.
“Hey, I’m just the tech guy, all right... all I know is this thing takes 1200 images per second and gives you the best Replay quality, for when things move fast.”

Madam Opal and her beloved dinosaur sit in the nose bleed section of the arena. Opal holds tiny binoculars to view the spectacle from afar. She was in the midst of making some critical adjustments to her and her precious familiar but her leader and master was about to win the championship. The tweeks could wait. She had to see if Latro truly had the ability to win the Championship after all this time.
She takes a bite out of a scorpion lollipop she had bought - well stolen - from the consessionstand and then offers some to Svog who greedily takes two or three quick comps from it leaving little to nothing for the Witch to enjoy.
"Svog, you pesky newt, now what will i savor as my master flays this fool into the next week?"
Svog looks around and darts off into the crowd of observers and returns a moment later with various half eaten candies and the like in its mouth.
Opal chuckles. "Oh you do know how to warm this old woman's heart, don't you?"

The crowd was in an uproar. It was only the second round of combat and already both combatants were giving each other everything they had.
Latro, the mighty Antipaladin, had managed to finagle and scheme his way around nearly every spell Josep had thrown at him. With a wall in between the guildmasters, Latro's own handmaiden stood her ground against the champion and managed to land a critical blow against him. Certainly she would soon meet her end, but those with darkvision glasses could see Latro smiling with devious glee as the fire struck and he managed to worm his way out of the Black Tentacle's grasp.

If this is indeed game:

Josep's Disqualification left a bitter sweet taste in Latro's mouth. On the one hand it was nice to taste victory over such a powerful opponent. But on the other hand, it was not a victory hard won. Rather one shakily handed to him on a silver platter by some incompetent servant.
Josep was clearly rusty from his time away from the arena and Latro almost felt bad for him. Almost.
But now he had more important things to worry about.
As the Champion's belt was stripped from Josep by arena officials, Latro watched in disgust as they hauled it away to be given to some lesser creature to be challenged by any and all who were qualified. Latro dismisses the levitate effect and feather falls to the arena floors, storing his bow designed specifically to aid him in his fight against Josep.
Dismissing the darkness he side-eyes the Guildmaster from across the wall of force.
"I expected better, Josep. Hiro would not have disappointed me so."
He turns his back to the mighty wizard and leaves the arena, letting the medics carry Tiaca out.

Josep crouched to pick up a scroll, but realised too late that this scroll had disappeared a few moments before in one of his three attempts at summoning monsters to fight for him. He facepalmed so hard that he sent shards of stone flying into the crowd.

The referee’s call fell as loud as a thunderstorm. Josep receded to his normal size, the wall of force and black tentacles dissipated. Latro’s darkness disappeared and he slowly drifted to the ground.

Josep would see the bitter expression on his face, as he too had been robbed of a victory.

« Come on Latro, you should be smiling!
You knew this was the only way you’d walk out of it alive.
You’ve never beaten me, and you never will. »

« Though today we learnt that I’m perfectly capable of beating myself... who would’ve thought? » he added bitterly.

Joseph waved to the crowd. For all his mistakes, he considered he had still shown a good display of spells and sportsmanship, even as he was stripped of his title. He wondered who would claim it first...
This message was last edited by the player at 17:27, Wed 13 Dec 2017.

"Hmm hmm hm hmmmmmm" Tina walked the oddly empty halls of the Arena, humming a little ditty to herself after her little warm-up against the newbie, when a leaf of paper caught her eye. "Hmmm what's this? Josep? Latro?? Championship?!?! What am I doing just standing around here!?" She ran fast as she could to her favourite spot in her favourite bar, but she could already hear the intense booing before walking through the door. "Aww, did I miss the match? Did Latro win? I mean I'd expect lots of booing if he did, but it sounds like no one is happy." Now occupying her seat and with a drink in hand, she finally looked into the arena, and she understood what everyone was upset about. And it made her upset. "Disqualification? THIS IS BULLSHIT! FIRE THE REF! BOO! BOO!"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:36, Thu 14 Dec 2017.

Haran Madar stepped out of the darkness and grinned. “Looks like the arena could use a new Champion.” He looked at the leadership board and gave a devious smile. Trails of darkness seemed to emanate from his very being. Lifting up his hand Haran created flames that sparked and danced. “Power gives me the right to rule.” Concentrating on the flames, shadows seemed to creep into the fire itself creating black fire. “Knowledge will help me rule.” He then showed his creation to all the passerbys, terrifying them. “and black fire will consumer all who oppose me. This is my promise.” “Excellent Haran.”

But Haran felt weak. While he was content to sit in the shadows as the weak destroyed each other – those who survived were actually getting stronger. Perhaps he waited too long? He needed to feast upon more victory. It angered him that one weakling beat another and thought themselves strong. He had been gone far too long. He needed to crush these fools with overwhelming force! He was given wide berth in the corridor. “Calm yourself Haran,” a strange voice murmured from the shadow.  Haran straightened up and smiled. “Of course.” He would get stronger before pursuing the belt, but how? He stepped back into the darkness to contemplate. Perhaps a Monstrous Royale?

Latro sits in his study, plotting his next move when suddenly, he feels it. A presence he hasn't felt in many months. A bell tolls on the horizon. the bell of the return of a gladiator. Latro can almost feel the roar of the crowd through the walls of his domain.
"No... it can't be!" Latro jumps from his seat, pushing slaves and servants out of the way as he races through the halls of Shadow's Caress.
"Master! I came soon I could!" Tiaca, Latro's faithful handmaiden says, running up to him.
Latro glares down at her. Fear and anger both present in equal amounts upon his face as she quivers before him.
"Tell me. Has my one true equal finally returned. Or do I worry myself over nothing. Is this bell merely for that fool Haran?"
Tiaca seems to shrink even more at her Master's aura. She can't say what her master does not want to hear. So she averts her eyes and begins to weep softy.
Latro pushes her aside. Madam Opal and Ugrim both exit from their rooms in the halls of Shadow's Caress and walk behind Latro as the  doors of the guild fly wide open.
Latro sees him. Just as horrid a sight as the day he vanished. He takes a step back, aghast that he should finally return. Innate fear and hatred run through his body. The countless times Latro had suffered defeat at the hands of this dwarf were numerable and each came rushing back to him.
But Latro was more powerful now than he had ever been before so he tucked his fear away. Instead of retreating, he snapped his fingers and in an instant, his trusty scythe was in his hands once more. the very blade which had lead latro to where he was now. He marched forwards. Through the crowd of onlookers. where once there was cheering and joy there was now fear and dismay as the most reviled and hated member of the arena walked towards the Once Champion. Seas of people parted in his wake and before long Latro was once again face to face with Hiro.

"Hiro." Latro sneers. "What took you so long? I was beginning to worry this arena would fall into my clutches before you would have the chance to die for it. Yet here you stand. I am honestly relived. for now i wish to see you take the belt back once more just so i can know the taste of victory as i take the belt right back from you."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:28, Tue 19 Dec 2017.

The arena roared with angry boos and bickering as the overseer of the match disqualified the current champion in an unprecedented ruling. Using unauthorized magic or items happens in the arena, but never before had an acting champion been disqualified during a championship. The booing grew louder and the crowd became more unruly the more the announcer attempted to calm them down and explain the situation.

Before Josep and Latro could even be escorted from the field, the crowds broke out into riots. Food, baubles, and punches were being thrown everywhere through the masses. Guards stormed the seats of the arena trying to calm down the onslaught of unruly citizens. It took several hours for order to be restored to the city.

The Colosseum's honor and dignity were on the line, and the gladiatorial arena was the corner stone of the city's wealth, fame, and sense of patriotic pride.

That day would be remembered with bitter resentment for everyone.

The next day, the city council of Swordaine would meet with the arena council in secret to discuss how they would resolve this issue.



Working out a deal with the guild masters of the Thaumaturgical Alliance and Shadow's Caress, the council decided neither would take the belt, but instead, a new championship would be held via a battle royal.

The selection of honored gladiators would be very restrictive but it would be a bloodbath between 4 of the arena's finest.

One member from each of the top 3 guilds will be selected.

In addition, a fourth gladiator, a freelancer, will be placed in the arena.

Upon the advice of the council and the Gladiator King himself, this has been the determination for the next championship which will go underway soon...
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:44, Thu 21 Dec 2017.

Brakt emerged from the arena, and waved off the clerics who rushed to attend to his wounds.  He stopped at the leader boards, and looked down, frowning.

Since his return to the Arena, he had been the only member of the Dragon still roaming the dojo halls, but in the brief time he was in his last match, he had felt something change.  The leader board in front of him didn't reflect that at all though. It still showed the Dragon with only one member.

Shrugging to himself, the Ogre slipped his hammer away, and turned towards the nearest tavern.  There was something else bugging him, someone else he could feel. Someone from another lifetime had also returned, and vengeance was to be his.

Jayce makes an entrance once again into The Arena. Gracefully stunning his opponents, he flies right back into old habits. He remembers Josep, from ages past. His old rivals Haran and Maelstrom. Good to be home.

Josep's Aliance was recruiting, Jayce thought it best to join such alliance to learn about everything that has happened in his absence.



Jayce goes to Josep's Guild Hall and petitions to join.

 Josep has a knee down and is panting. Most of his wounds are mental, but the pain is very real. His head is pounding.
  Still, as the jet black tentacles he conjured drain the last breath from Haran, he smiles.

  "This... this is what happens when you turn your back to the old lion when he looks weak..."

 "Now I want my Belt back..."

 He looked around.
 The body of Brakt, bludgeoned by his air elementals, surprisingly fast for an ogre, he had almost caught him off-guard.
 The remains of Latro Dectus, who entered the arena with only half of himself, beaten by his earth elementals and finished by Haran, without ever posing a real threat.
 The corpse of Haran, who just finished dying in the embrace of the tentacles... clearly the most talented in the arena, but sometimes talent was not enough...

 After a long fight, moments of foolish certitude and moments of intense doubts, Josep was just glad that this was over...