After beholding a horrific underwater battle between two warriors and a gargantuan shark, the crowd is eager to see two warriors fight one opponent.

Cheering and placing their bets, the crowd roars. Some with money on the goblin and human and many others betting on the dwarf.

Even the other gladiators in the dungeon sidelines watch eagerly from beneath the stands to see how this plays out...

Abram's head has been held down in shame for too long. His mastery of tactical maneuvers means for naught if he cannot get a little of Lady Luck on his side. He enters the ring with one of his rivals, Maelstrom of the Serpent's Hand. Maelstrom walking in side by side is like a Giant walking next to a man. But size isn't everything, Abram will make sure the people know it.

In the Arena, there he stands. The undisputed King of the Slaves. Hiro stands there ready for another easy victory. Abram cannot contain himself, "NOT TODAY!" He shouts and points his finger down at the ground and stamps his foot. Onlookers would have seen a mere child throwing a tantrum. Well, for that matter, they may be right.

Odds stacked against them, the duo greenhorn team enters the Arena ready to make their mark...

OOC: Thought I would give this a try.

With Clerics of Lolth at his beck and call and bandages around his side, Latro watched from his medical room window the match unfolding between Hiro and the two new commers.

"Another towel!" He shouts at one of the Priests. "I think i still have water in my hair."

The gnome stood up after the last display of incompetence, and started walking towards the challenge room, leaving blackened footsteps on the floorboards. He waited long enough.

At first the crowd roared and cheered as the fire gnome and ki-powered dwarf squared off. However, as the fight drew on, more and more of the crowd began booing and jeering. Few still cheered on Bablam, for they had money riding on him, but the majority roared in protest and began rioting. Guards were hard pressed to keep the crowds from breaking lines and going on an unstoppable rampage. Thankfully, the arena wards and powerful judges intervened keeping the peace by force despite all the yelling and screaming.

No one was happy to see a champion yield, especially not after spending the whole fight hopping around while a spellcaster fluttered across the arena throwing magic. Thus was the way of the arena. "Coward" was a word being slung at both contestants for various reasons.

Even the other gladiators in the stands began rattling the bars and chains. Many demanded that Hiro not quit while others roared that the gnome should die. Others started laughing at the monk and more egged Bablam to burn the monk to the ground even after yielding. And then some very unfriendly sparring in the dungeons broke out over it.

Bablam and Hiro would be escorted by elite guards to their private rooms. They'd be under close eye until the heat died down...

It'd been a long time since a championship, and it appeared an even longer time would pass before anyone would forgive this one for it's rather anticlimactic end...

Latro spat at the ground as the new champion was declared. Now he had someone new to kill. True, hiro had still not died in the match, so Latro could still be the first to claim Hiro's life, but now he would need to kill the gnome to have the belt.

Hiro walked from the arena nonplussed. His robes were charred and his skin still pink from the healing.

The loss of the belt didn't bother him too much - really, it was simply on loan to the gnome. He had won the bout fairly, only in the sense he didn't break any rules. All the gnome had proven was that he could fly, not that he was a more powerful combatant.

Hiro was last seen striding through the doors of his dojo.

A torrent of flames formed around Bablam as his opponent retreated in defeat. His form could barely be seen, and the shadows that managed to escape the light of the fire seemed to twist and lengthen. The gnome reached out with his arms and pulled the fire to himself, a self satisfied smirk on his face. Not yet.

A slight shift in the asimaar's eyes signals the first stirrings of Olmar Magna in months, followed by a slight shift of his head as his eyes focus on his surroundings. How long had he been out? Sitting on a stool with a glass of mulled vine long since grown cold, none daring to disturb him in his stupor.

'So much has changed, how long have I been sitting here?' he thinks to himself.

Staring at his hand, Olmar flexes his fingers and releases the glass, feeling dull and stiff. Taking his hand to his chest he rubs it and frowns around at the stands. So much change. What else had changed?

Standing up Olmar walks out from the sidelines, he needed to see to his guild, he needed to see the Arena officials, how much had changed?

In the fast-paced arena, few people look twice when a hooded figure walks past or when a former gladiator returns to the sidelines. Without their fancy armor, weapons and spells, even the greatest of gladiators appears like just another amateur off the street or some noble-blooded fop.

In either case, Olmar would sit and wait in obscurity for now until he announced himself. In his absence, Hiro had risen as one of the greatest champions of the decade. Then Bablam, the fire gnome, had taken him down in a blaze of flame. The uproar was loud and it was rude and it was violent. The contenders had been escorted away by security, though both were relatively sure they didn't need it.

A new champion walks the hallways now. A spellcaster of great power. Oh yes, the arena has changed hats, but it was still the same. It was always the same. Victory demanded power and strategy and only the best walked away victorious...or even alive....

Walking back trough the doors to the sidelines Olmar pauses to look around. No one seemed to give him a second glance as he stood there, one even jostled him and told Olmar off for standing in the walkway into this crowded place. Olmar just stared at him for a moment, at a loss for words, before apologizing and moving off. Finding his usual place at the bar taken Olmar turned away, off to the view pane, half watching, half staring into space, he had a lot on his mind.

But now he must wait, and watch. He had caught up on the changes, talked to his guild and the arena supervisors. Now he must wait.

The doors to the bar opened as a woman strode in animalistic ears adorning her head the same color as her Light blue hair. Her eyes scanning the bar before walking up to a table near the viewing pane. She noticed the celestial touched man at the pane but paid him no heed as he looked like he was playing with the bunnies of thought in his mind. She rolled her shoulders a bit as she gazed out into the arena taking in the fights sorting them away in her mind for thought later. Eventually some bread was placed at her table for her to nibble on while she waited her vulpine tail swaying idly.

“Foxfolk, ratfolk, lizardfolk, Jayce and all his summons. When did the arena turn into a zoo?” He half expected to step on a turd. Maelstrom had shaken off the worst effects of his fight with the Hydrodaemon. He actually felt stronger. Seeing a nice corner in the bar, he plopped down to meditate. But before he could find inner sanctum, the crowds started to roar. “How am I supposed to mediate with all this noise?” Curiosity got the better of him. Leaning over the railing, Maelstrom noticed Master Hiro stepping into the ring with the three newcomers. “Really Hiro? Where’s the honor in fighting these inexperienced newcomers?” That said, Maelstrom continued to watch the match, eager to see the outcome, hopefully the unexpected one.

As Hiro's "initiation" of the newcomers is getting under way, those spectating notice several colorfully dressed entertainers tacking up fliers around the arena's observation areas and bar.


Soon after, a corner of the bar is taken over by a pair of brightly dressed women taking signups and handing out fliers with more information. And, in one of the lesser used arenas, there appears to be construction work going on, as well as a small display of exotic creatures to be used in the upcoming event.

It certainly looks like a spectacle of some sort has come to the arena.

In reply to Bablam Yellowflame (msg # 72):

Satisfied with things that transpired in the temple of arachnia, Bablam was ready for the change that was coming. When they appeared before the crowd, gnome took the Championship Belt he has won, and with a grin towards Hiro buckled it around his waist.

The torrent of flame returned and screaming could be heard from inside. But when it subsided, a tall figure stood proudly where everyone would expect a pile of ashes. Bablam reborn in a form more worthy of the Arena Champion. "Aaaaah. Much better."

The door to the tavern burst open, knocking a hapless drunk to the ground.

Vile Ann, the arena's newest fighter, strode menacingly in. Around her neck a still-dripping ear hung on a leather cord. Men and women scattered as she made her way to the bar, separating them like a shark's fin through water.

She convinced one of the onlookers to give up his stool at the bar (he did not require much convincing) she sat down and drained what was left of the man's beer.

Letting loose a loud and rumbling burp, she hurled the mug against the wall. "More beer! Killing makes me thirsty..."

The crowds roared and cheered loudly as the long awaited rematch between the champion and ex-champion began...

 Josep takes a drink and nonchalantly takes a look at the ongoing Endurance Challenge.

  "Have you seen this?!" he asks the patrons around him.
  "That brute just bathed in lava... remind me of that moment, if I ever feel foolish enough to go after him..."

 Mesmerized by the uncanny scene, the wizard quickly finishes his drink in shot sips, wondering whether the barbarian will survive the experience...

Latro watches from the sidelines, cleaning Olimar's still fresh blood from his scythe as Hiro reclaims the belt from Bablam. Taking to a piece of parchment, Latro scribes out a few things before going to meet Hiro at the exit of the arena.

As Hiro exits the arena, buckling the belt around his waist and the clerics rush in to heal Bablam, a crossbow bolt flies from the darkness and lands in the wall by Hiro, a piece of parchment attached to it.

"Official Challenge" it reads on the outside.

Latro Dectus hereby challenges the current champion to duel at the Howling Abyss for the right to call themselves champion and wear the champion's belt.

Latro's scythe shimmers in the darkness as the shadowy figure walks away back down the hall to prepare for the battle.

A few days after Latro's embarrassing defeat at Hiro's hands once more, a large parchment appears hung up near the bar area:


Shadow's Caress is now recruiting all practitioners of darkness and chaos into it's ranks to take the Arena by storm. Any and all who bask in the unholy light of dark forces or who toss the lawmaker's rules to the wind are invited to take up ranks with us.
MONKS NEED NOT APPLY! EVER!!!!
If your hunger for the downfall of all good and lawful knows no bounds, speak with your local conduit of darkness, Latro Dectus, about becoming a harbinger of evil and/or chaos.

OOC: If you would like to join my newly formed guild, "Shadow's Caress," you must be either Chaotic Evil, Chaotic Neutral, or Neutral Evil. Initial dues are 100 x your current HD in GP or a single hero point. From there gp due is based on your current rank within the guild itself.

Many of the spectators are amused to see Master Hiro pushing his way through the crowds, headed for his skybox. His arms were filled with tubs of popped corn and flagons of ale. Tucked under one arm was a banner that said "Go Monsters!"

 Josep enjoys the sight of the ongoing survival match.

 He is really looking forward to seeing the oversized dwarf toss the regular dwarf at the flying monster...
  "This looks fun... I should join a guild as well. Or found my own."

Latro watches from the exclusive Guild Master's box at the ongoing matches in his private chair. Taking in each and every combatant as they fight for their lives and seeing which ones would make welcome addition to his growing guild. He had his eye on a few of the new commers and he had already swayed one to his end and because of that, Latro was temporarily pleased.

His former guildmaster Olmar had been absent as of late, his personal chair collecting dust in one of the corners of the room. Having taken a brutal beating in his last match from Latro himself, the former dark-elf wasn't surprised that he was missing. this brought a smile to his face.

Hiro however was different story. He was off beating up monsters with his happy-go-lucky guild members. It was disgusting, and Hiro's continued triumph over Latro proved to be equally infuriating. But Latro was still discovering new ways to exploit the current champion's weaknesses and soon, so very soon, the belt would be his.

Sitting back in his chair, crossing his legs, and interlacing his fingers, Latro laughed silently to himself. The madness of constant defeat weighing on his shoulders had pushed him beyond sanity. Was his dark goddess pleased with this turn of events? It mattered not to Latro any longer. The only thing that consumed his thoughts now was acquiring the belt and finally laying waste to Hiro.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:32, Wed 13 Aug 2014.

Krumm, newly arrived to the Arena, smiles happily as the match between Lispro and Karma breaks out. "Now HE is a big one. I like this!" He watches on, his attention absorbed fully by the match.

After Karma surrenders, Krumm frowns. "Shame."