"Ladies and Gentlemen! I apologize for my delay but I have been caught up in beaurocracy you see. It seems the authorities above don't like what is going on down here… or rather they don't like not having a cut of the profits. Accept my humble apologies, for tonight I give you two new fighters to the arena. We have Crucibal Atesh pitting his burning hatred against Flegmar, the mysterious… frog as his opponent put it. That's a slight I don't think Flegmar will let go unpunished." Melanos nudges Torgal and the arena master stoops to hear him. After a brief pause Torgal stands and once again addresses the crowd. "Let the fight begin!" Torgal disappears into his chamber, not even staying to witness the battle.

The crowd quickly loses interest in the arena master as the gates ominously creep open. The assembled masses push forward to catch a better glimpse of the two new fighters. The dwarf Crucibal enters first. A spiked chain gripped firmly in one hand he glares across the Pit floor seemingly wanting to incinerate his opponent with a look. The crowd begins murmuring about the multitude of burn scars across his face and any other exposed flesh. Seconds later a much different figure enters. Concealed by a dark robe and hooded cowl, Flegmar steps forward into the torchlight of the Pit. Careful observers notice the slight maw protruding from the troglodytes cowl, a the frantically twitching tail poking out beneath his robe. Flegmar draws his clawed finger across his throat and points it at Crucibal before letting out a shallow hiss and pointing to his stomach. The crowd chuckles lightly clearly understand the troglodytes intention for his opponent.

The two opponents waste no time in beginning since Torgal is not present to signal the start. Both fighters begin casting spells, Crucibal in a deep dwarven voice filled with hatred and Flegmar in a soft hissing voice. A flash of greenish blue arcane energy forms in front of Flegmar before disappearing. Meanwhile a dark reddish cloud begins to churn in the middle of the arena, an unseen current swirling it into a vortex. From the middle of the vortex a wolf charges forth, quickly closing the distance between it and the troglodyte mage. Flegmar licks his lips in anticipation of the attack, a small amount of droll dripping from his maw. Crucibal begins to move forward at a slow run, while Flegmar lunges at the wolf, obviously anxious to sink his teeth into its flesh. With a curious howl and hiss the two collide and the troglodyte sinks his teeth in deep, ripping a small amount of flesh from the wolf.

Crucibal lashes out with his chain as he approaches the lizard creature. Flegmar looks up from his wolf meal and lunges toward the dwarf. All mystery about this lizard warrior disappears as a bloodlust seems to take hold. With a quick claw Flegmar adds five more scars to the already marred face of Crucibal. The wolf lunges at Flegmar's back but the troglodyte sidesteps the assault, only to be caught by Crucibal's spell. Fire leaps from the fingers of the dwarf and sear away Flegmar's robe, revealing dark green scaled hide, but the flames never seem to touch the flesh of the troglodyte. The sorcerer begins the words to a spell of his own and quickly his hands surround themselves with a greenish blue energy. The dwarf quickly steps in to attack but his chain swings is too short and a line of black energy streaks from Flegmar and slams into the dwarves mighty chest.

The dwarf's face contorts in pain as he struggles to deal with the impact of the negative energy. His color pales slightly as he stands straight again, a grimace of anger only lends itself to the torment his body just felt. With rage fuelling his body Crucibal begins to attack the troglodyte with renewed fury. The chain becomes a blur as it strikes the troglodytes arcane shield again and again. The air seems alive with magical sparks as the dwarf presses his assault. Flegmar merely grins at the enraged dwarf, scoring small hits and drawing blood from several small wounds. Suddenly the chain doesn't connect with the anticipated shield, and Flegmar is sent scrawling backwards to avoid having his head torn from his shoulders. Crucibal slows his assault, obviously winded and begins to chant, praying to his god of fire. Lunging forward he grabs the troglodyte and black smoke curls from around Crucibal's hands as his grip sears Flegmar scaly hide. Flegmar's eyes widen as the pain burns into him, he stares deeply into Crucibal's eyes, hatred flashes between the two. Crucibal begins to relax his grip as a calm slowly seems to take hold, with a shake of his head he plants a foot in the troglodyte's stomach and forces him back, breaking whatever enchantment the troglodyte had. Crucibal begins to assail Flegmar again and this time the troglodyte shows a respect for the dwarf, giving him room and slowly backing away, darting in to inflict a few more scrapes. Crucibal, drench in blood from several small cuts, screams upward. His chain arcs around and connects with the troglodyte. The small spikes dig into his flesh as the chain continues to wrap around him. With a vicious pull, Crucibal strips the chain away, pulling forth vast amounts of scales, flesh and cloth. Flegmar hisses in anger before he collapses to the ground, blood draining from a thousand cuts. Crucibal stares down at the beast, "pretty tough for a frog."