"Aaah... what an interesssting battle we have before usss. . ."

Ivan Zagad, robed in black, crouches over the balcony railing. His eyes gleam like candle-flames in the shadows, holding the assembled crowd in rapt attention. "On one hand, warriorsss of law: the paladin Dis Loveth and the monk Ralmauthar. . ."

Applause. The first team steps into the arena through the western gate.

". . . and on the other. . ." He grins, and his forked tongue flicks across his teeth. "ssspell-wielders, both servants of darknesss. . . the mage Whisper. . . and the cleric Craningar, of Bane."

Scattered applause, then silence, as the two step forward. Ivan Zagad glances down at them, raises one green-gray claw and calls out:

"I sssee no need to wait any further. Combatantsss. . . begin!"

Dis Loveth quickly raises a pistol, and Ralmauthar charges forward. Whisper, however, is quicker than both of them. The mage sneers and raises a small stone in one hand. He speaks a word of magic, and suddenly he and Craningar disappear in a sphere of darkness.

The paladin and monk pause, exchanging a few quiet words. Only a faint muttering can be heard from within the black cloud at the opposite end of the arena. Moving quickly and together, the two move to the edge of the darkness. Dis Loveth raises his pistol; Ralmauthar slowly circles his companion, feet moving in odd, geometric patterns as he calms himself for battle. After a moment, both reach into pouches and draw out small, grey spheres, which they cast into the gloom. In a moment, a deafening roar rocks the arena. The dwarf and human standing outside the black globe uncover their ears and listen intently; but the sonic attack appears to have been ineffectual.

Silent seconds pass, and Dis Loveth looks about to issue a challenge into the black when-- as suddenly as it appeared-- the darkness is gone. Whisper and Craningar are nowhere to be seen.

Dis Loveth growls an oath in dwarven and casts aside his pistol for his two-handed sword. Ralmauthar and he stand back-to-back and eye the empty space around them warily, waiting for the attack that will come. After a moment's pause, the chanting of two hidden voices echoes across the arena, and before Dis Loveth and Ralmauthar can guess at the speakers' location, a great puff of smoke surrounds them. It clears to show two great, shrieking rats.

One rat, red-eyed and shadowy black with great white fangs, leaps at Dis Loveth but is repelled by the dwarf's armor. Dis Loveth tries to stab at it with his sword, but the beast is too close and he angrily grasps at it and pushes it away. The other rat, smaller and sleeker, manages to bite at Ralmauthar's hand and draw blood as the monk strikes at it. Ralmauthar steps back, pausing to check the injured hand.

Again smoke fills the arena, and now a huge, night-black wolf and a third rat join the other summoned creatures. The rat fighting Dis Loveth bite into his leg before the paladin can stab down at it with his sword, impaling the creature-- it fades away into a wisp of black smoke as it dies. Dis Loveth grins, but in moments the grin turns into a grimace as yet another rat appears to replace the one that fell.

Ralmauthar remains unfazed. "These dogs are nothing!" he complains, circling the wolf in an eye-wrenching star-shaped pattern. "Why don't their masters come out and fight?" As the wolf growls and springs at him, he drops to the ground and allows it to pass over him, delivering a flurry of kicks as it passes. He spins around and lashes at the dazed creature's neck. It drops to the ground with a howl and disappears. Even as the wolf falls, Dis Loveth swings his sword at one of the remaining rats, taking its head cleanly off and dispelling the magic that summoned it. Now only one rat remains.

But, perhaps in answer to the monk's challenge, Whisper appears out of the void ten yards from Ralmauthar as he hurls a small bag at the monk. The bag misses Ralmauthar by inches, exploding into goo, harmlessly, on the floor. Craningar appears five feet from Dis Loveth a second after and lashes out with his battle axe. The priest of Bane is surrounded by a faint black cloud, like mist, that seems to thicken the air around him. Dis Loveth stabs at him but growls in frustration as his sword slows in the mist-- Craningar sidesteps it easily.

The last rat finally disappears, its summoning ended, but Whisper brings another one into being with a curt gesture and a word of command. The creature leaps at Ralmauthar, squeaking, but the monk dodges it and punches at Craningar. His blows fall strangely short of the cleric, repelled by an invisible barrier. But even as Craningar smiles cruelly at Ralmauthar's frustration, Dis Loveth swings his greatsword at the dark cleric, and this time protective magic does little for him. The sword cuts deep into Craningar's shoulder, and he screams with pain and hatred.

Methodically, Whisper gestures once more to summon another monster. This one is a large, stone-colored octopus with eight grasping tentacles. Several of them immediately latch on to Ralmauthar and the hideous octupus drags itself to the him, biting at him. Unaffected by pain and revulsion, the monk closes his eyes and jabs the octopus' bulbous head with his fingers. His blow releases some hidden energy that knocks the his enemy backward. Dazed, it collapses to the ground, where it remains until it fades away. Dis Loveth, on the other hand, is still having difficulty breaking through Craningar's mystic protections, and a half dozen cuts from the gleaming axe are beginning to bleed through the gaps in his armor.

And now Whisper draws a large crossbow. The mage winds it carefully, ignoring the heated melee, takes careful aim and fires at Ralmauthar. The bolt catches the monk in the chest, and he sags for a moment from the shock of the blow. Whisper's last summoned rat scratches at his leg-- though it disappears as he turns, weakly, to face it. "Kill that monster before it wakes!" he rasps at Dis Loveth, pointing to the octopus. "I'll take care of. . ." clutching his side but still moving smoothly and artfully, he leaves and moves toward Whisper as the dark mage loads his next bolt.

Dis Loveth backs away from Craningar for a moment to slash at the octopus. His sword, gleaming in the arena torchlight, slashes into the octopus' eye and slides deeper-- then the creature disappears and the blade is free to face Craningar again. The two are locked in combat, but the dwarf's attention is only half on his opponent-- the other half is locked on Ralmauthar, who is closing on Whisper even as Whisper's crossbow rises to point at him. The mage pulls the trigger, releasing the bolt into the monk almost point blank, stabbing into his right shoulder, symmetrical with the wound on his left.

He is almost knocked back by the blow, but Ralmauthar staggers forward and lashes out at the mage with one hand and knocks the mage backward. Even as loss of blood is slowly carrying him toward unconciousness, he leaps at Whisper with a flying kick. But he misjudges Whisper's height-- the diminutive mage trips over himself in an attempt to dodge the attack, and Ralmauthar, too weak to stop his momentum, flies over him. In a moment, Whisper arms another bolt in the crossbow and turns to point it at Ralmauthar.

The monk is bent over, gasping with pain, his eyes wild. Whisper sneers. "It has been fun playing with--" Ralmauthar charges at him, collides with him and bowls him over. Two screams rebound through the arena and then, for a moment, there is silence.

Whisper pushes Ralmauthar's comatose body off of him and stands, casting aside his now spent crossbow.

Hearing his companion's death cry, Dis Loveth raises himself to greater frenzy, but Craningar's protective shield grants the cleric a slight advantage. Now Whisper, shaken but still alive, raises a quarterstaff and moves in to join the fray. The paladin fights bravely as the seconds slip into minutes, giving Craningar a blow for each one he takes, but the added presence of the black mage proves too much for him. Finally, Whisper is able to jab at the dwarf's chest with his staff, knocking the breath out of his lungs. Cranigar follows through with his axe, sending Dis Loveth unconscious to the ground.

Resounding cheers-- and not a small amount of booing-- fill the stands. Pit clerics move to assist the fallen, and Craningar soon collapses weakly into a stretcher as he, too, is pulled off the battlefield.

"What an exciting battle," hisses Ivan Zagad. "Interesssting ssummoning tactic. . ."

"Wasn't it." The mage's imp nods cynically in the direction of the departing wounded. "That crossbow turned out more useful, though."

"Perhapsss. . . but is it not true that a mage must bide his time, depending on ssuch things, until the time comes when he gains the power to rissse. . . above them. . . ?" Ivan Zagad grins. "And besides, I enjoy. . . sssummoning, and other such endeavors. . . in fact, I plan to bring one of my petsss to the arena next week."

The imp's eyes flash in alarm. "Not the--"

Ivan Zagad laughs. "Oh, yes, Sithyigul, one of the experiments. . . but do not worry, it is a greatly weakened version. . . none of those competing in the Pit have much strength at all, so I had to tone it down, ssso to speak. . ." He gestures to the opposite wall of the arena. Nothing can be seen there, but one of Torgal's apartments lies on the other side of the wall. "Wessstran is allowing uss to have a bit of fun with these next week's fights. . . we can do whatever we wish with them. . . so I shall pit two of the Pit's competitorsss against each other and one of my petsss; a sort of three-sided free-for-all. . . the winner will be the lassst one standing. I believe it will be quite interesssting. . . and it will give me my first chance to test the strength of the experiment. . ."

"Which remindss me that we have been away from the tower too long. Follow, Sithyigul." The dark mage's eyes flash crimson, and he steps back from the edge of the balcony into the shadows.