Having finished his tirade, Gremag turned to see a large portly gentlemen approaching. He wore a long alabaster robe with a gold chain, at the end of which, was a large coin. On the coin was the image of goddess Tymora.

Ahh, how are you this evening your eminence?" said Gremag bowing obsequiously to the priest, "Has good fortune been smiling on you?"

"Those who follow Lady Luck always have good fortune," the priest responded. "I am here to place a wager, a rather large wager, on one of the upcoming fights. Which odds look good?

The lap of luxury thought Gremag as he replied to the priest; "I can give you excellent odds on Nathaniel, a powerful sorcerer, on defeating Craningar Rue, one of the disciples of Bane. Sure Craningar won his last fight but he was lucky. I think his opponent slipped and hit his head on the floor of the pit (too bad it wasn't attached to his body added Gremag to himself)."

Looking pensive and rubbing his medallion, the priest replied, "I am a bit unsure, but I will go with your suggestion. Anything to lessen the power of the Dark God. We need this money to build the new orphanage, so I know you wouldn't steer me wrong." With a hard long look at the Kobold, the priest went to his seat on the opposite side of the arena.

"What," said Gremag as Zinj gave him an inquiring stare. "When did you get a conscience? Instead of trying to make me feel guilty, make yourself useful and help me start the fight."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the arena of death and fortune! The next fight is sure to be an interesting one! The young sorcerer Nathaniel is set to test his mettle against the cleric of Bane, Craningar Rue, who as you remember, last appearance caused quite a stir, to say the least!

Upon cue, the doors at both ends of the arena swing ponderously open. The first to enter is the platinum haired sorcerer Nathaniel. He looks around at the crowd with a strange mixture of resolve and sorrow as if this was to be his last fight.

As a spider approaches a fly, Craningar Rue's strides into the arena to a chorus of boos which he silences with a quick glare and spin of his double-bladed axe. He then smiles at his opponent across the ring and with a smug and dismissive look, sheaths his weapon and stands, arms crossed awaiting the start of the melee.

Gremag gives Zinj the signal, who in turn bellows, "COMBATANTS, FIGHT TO THE DEATH!"

At the signal, Nathaniel charges forth while calling upon mystical forces to lay low his opponent. Simultaneously, Craningar Rue begins preparing a spell of his own.

Nathaniel releases his spell first. A small blue orb appears and streaks toward the black clad knight. The blue orb strikes true and explodes on contact. Craningar Rue's eyes open in shock and pain as his body briefly freezes. Barely pausing, he shrugs off the attack and releases his own spell. Ironically, as if entombed in ice, Nathaniel freezes in his tracks.

The is deja-vu all over again thought Gremag as Craningar Rue charges towards his now helpless opponent while drawing his battle axe. Being able to do nothing but watch, Nathaniel sees the killing stroke descend and feels a brief flash of pain and then darkness crashes in upon him. In the ring, Craningar Rue stands over the lifeless body of the sorcerer. He then performs what is being a familiar ritual and prays to the god of the Black Hand.

"Do you need any more evidence as to the power of Bane! Do you see what resistance will get you?" as Craningar taps Nathaniel's body with his toe. Spitting on the ground, Craningar Rue departs to enjoy the favours of his god. Upon cue, the pit guards quickly bring order to the crowd to avoid the riot that accompanied Craningar Rue's last victory.

Gremag looks up to see the priest of Tymora shaking his fist at him. Gremag smiles at him while he takes the priest's gold, jingles it and gives it to Zinj for safekeeping. "Well," said Gremag, "you win some, you lose some. Lets go to a little place I know and enjoy some of the winnings. Just don't tell Torgal…"