The sun shines down upon the Arena.  It's heat seems to have settled
into those in the stands, which are strangely quiet.  Even the vendors are
silent, crouching in the shade of the stairs, rather than peddling their
wares at the top of their lungs.  About the only activity among the
spectators is the constant betting.

    And then the names are called.

    As Marciel steps into the Arena the crowd cheers.  The fight has been
billed as a mouse vs. the lion combat, and the crowd is always happy to
cheer for the underdog.  Looking across the Arena Marciel can just see as
Throm steps through the doors opposite.  The ogre mage seems pre-occupied,
his attention focused on the arrow he holds in his left hand.  Several Ioun
Stones float about his head and as the judges announce the names one of them
flashes.

    Not waiting to see the stone's effect, Marciel finishes his incantation
and disappears.  His work on the arrow finished, Throm looks up just in time
to see Marciel's disappearance.

    Slipping the arrow into a quiver at his belt, Throm crouches slightly as
he prepares to jump.  Marciel, having suddenly apeared behind Throm, facing
the ogre's backside, sees a perfect opportunity as the archer crouches.  His
dagger flashing he stabs at the ogre mage's exposed back, and nearly
overbalances and falls as the blade sweeps through empty air.

    Not even noticing the attempted strike, Throm launches into the air.
From about 30' up he scans the floor of the Arena, and catches sight of the
gnome.

    As Throm slips his bow off his back Marciel goes into spellcasting.  A
breeze picks up and quickly builds to a rushing wind, strangely confined to
right in front of the gnome.

    Going into action Throm launches off a half dozen arrows before it
registers that they are all being deflected by the wall of wind that has
formed between him and his target.

    As the crowd cheers Marciel, Throm flies backwards across the Arena.  He
is maybe a hundred feet from Marciel when he sinks to the ground.  He stands
there, his bow still in hand and looks across at his gnomish opponent.

    As the two opponents stand there, Throm calls on one of the innate
powers of his race, creating a ball of impenetrable darkness around himself.
  Thus obscured he cannot see as Marciel sticks his tongue out and incants a
short phrase.  All about him duplicates of the gnome appear, each one
looking suspiciously at the globe of darkness 120' away.

    Not liking being drawn into a game of cat and mouse, Marciel brings her
hands before her, cupping them in a ball.  Intoning the words of a spell,
she opens them to reveal a glowing ball of flames, which she flings at the
globe of darkness in which Throm hides.

    The fireball flies into the darkness.  There is a second of quiet,
before flames blossom all around the darkness.  The flames rage for a couple
seconds, before dying out.  No sound comes from the globe.

    As Marciel begins to cast another spell, the globe of darkness starts
moving forward.  It has gotten about 20' when the gnome's spell goes off.
There is a slight sheen on the ground, as a layer of magically created
grease covers the area around the globe.

    Marciel glances about for any sign that Throm is not in the globe, but
doesn't see him anywhere else in the Arena.  Meanwhile, the globe of
darkness, seemingly unaffected by the grease that covers the Arena floor,
continues toward Marciel.

    As the globe of darkness contacts Marciel's Wind Wall, it is apparently
caught by the winds and pulled upward.  The globe flies up 10', to reveal
Throm holding a length of twine, which extends up into the globe.  His right
hand is empty and as he extends it toward the gnome, Marciel notices a
sudden drop in the air tempurature.

    Realizing the Ogre Mage must be calling on his innate powers, Marciel
jumps to the side, managing to avoid the brunt of the attack.  However, the
edge of it still catches her, the unearthly cold biting into her.  Two of
her images are also caught in the blast, and disappear.

    As Marciel rises from her roll she retrieves a small steel ball from one
of her pockets.  Many of the spectators smile as they recognize it as a set
of iron bands of Bilarro.  With an expert aim she launches the ball at
Throm.

    The ogre mage is in the midst of a spell and doesn't move as the ball
flies at him.  Just before the bands hit, he finishes his spell (one of his
Ioun Stones flashing momentarily), with no visible effect.

    Wrapping themselves around Throm's large form, the bands start to
tighten.  Throm, aided by the slightly glowing girdle at his waist,
struggles to break free.

    As Throm struggles within the Bands, Marciel grabs two oil skins,
hurling them at the Ogre Mage.  The oil splatters all over Throm, just as he
lifts into the air.  Rising in the air Throm lets out a roar, and the bands
shatter, falling to the ground in useless chunks of scrap.

    As Marciel rolls backwards, Throm reaches for his bow.  Realizing she is
no longer protected by the wind wall, the gnome hurries through the
incantation for her next spell.  As arrows slam into a pair of her mirror
images, shattering the illusions, Marciel finishes her spell.

    Twin bolts of flame leap from her hands, arcing up to Throm.  With a
burst he ignites, flames leaping all about his body.

    As Marciel watches the flames cover her opponent, a large portion of
them leap back, streaking down at the gnome.  Glowing, one of her ioun
stones absorbs the flames.

    While the gnome scrambles to cast another spell, Throm raises his bow.
The flames, though dying down, still lick at him.  Thus distracted, Throm is
slow with his attack, and Marciel finishes her spell.

    Hurling a small stone at Throm he watches as it rapidly expands, growing
into a boulder, which slams into his shoulder, and just grazes the side of
his head.  As his shoulder is knocked back, the arrow he was about to launch
goes flying up, and into the dome that encloses the Arena.  Yet, at the same
time part of the boulder seems to break off, coming flying back to hit
Marciel a glancing blow to the stomach.

    Dazed from the boulder, Throm wobbles in the air.  Seeing an opening
Marciel hurls another pebble.  The magically expanded rock hits Throm's leg,
before rebounding back at the gnome.  As she rolls to the side, the boulder
hits her in the back.

    Rolling over, and noticing that Throm appears to still be stunned from
the stones, quickly grabs her crossbow.  Launching two bolts from it, both
stab into the ogre mage, seemingly bringing him out of his stupor.

    As Marciel starts into another spell, Throm lifts his bow.  With quick
moves he shouts both of the remaining mirror images.  Just as he takes aim
at the gnome, she begins to shrink.  Marciel rapidly shrinks to no more than
a couple of inches.

    Reaching to his side quiver, Throm retrieves an arrow, launching it at
the ground near Marciel.  Suddenly, from the ground burst 14 long black
tentacles.  As the writhing appendages search for prey, one of them grasps
hold of Marciel.  There is a brief struggle before the tentacle disappears.

    Marciel is hit by two more of the tentacles before she manages to get
outside their range.  Just as she gets beyond the tentacles grasp, Throm
releases his arrow.  It flies down at the gnome, but slams into the ground
next to Marciel.

    Just as she raises her crossbow to return fire, her vision is blocked by
a dome of ice that has suddenly formed around her.  Releasing her crossbow
bolt, it flies up and slams into the ice, shattering.

    Outside the ice dome, Throm calls for his opponent to admit her defeat.
However, there is no response from within.

    Waiting for a decision from the judges, Throm activates another of his
ioun stones, and within seconds his wounds are healed.  Holding his bow in
hand, the ogre mage waits.

    A couple minutes pass, as the judges confer.  Suddenly, from the bottom
of the dome of ice comes a hazy mist.  Deciding that this must be his
opponent, Throm launches his arrows.  The first arrow stabs clean through
the misty form that is Marciel.  Settling to the floor of the Arena, the
mists coallesce into the fallen gnome's body.

    As Throm sinks slowly to the Arena floor, the priests and guards run
out.  A cursury look at the gnome, and the blood spreading from the arrow
wound in her chest, is all the priests need.  One signals to the guards, who
start to drag the body out of the Arena.  As Throm walks back out of the
Arena, the betting starts up.  The bookies are giving good odds on the next
fight.