It is a cool, overcast day that draws the crowd to their favorite seats in the Arena. They had come to see a bestial minotaur in action, knowing their savagery from previous combatants. He is announced as Arrngha the Black, and he lives up to his name. Nearly eight feet tall, with massive slabs of muscle moving under his well groomed black pelt. Earrings glittered from his ears, and his feral grin shows teeth filed to points. On his frame he wears a special, massive suit of platemail, one hand holding a shield and the other a sword. His opponent is introduced as Silvara Spellbinder, a fair elven maid, slender and with golden hair. Snow white robes and cloak cascade from her narrow shoulders, and a delicate silver circlet rests on her head. She is surrounded by several whirling stones of various colors, and a glowing red aura surrounds her. Arrngha steps out of the entrance and fixes his gaze on his opponent, hoping to display his dominance. Then he begins trotting across the open Arena towards her. As he does so, a few mumbled words escape her lips, completing some magery. The minotaur pauses in mid-stride, unmoving, as the elven woman trots across the dirt floor of the open Arena. She seems eager to hurry to her death at the hands of the beast, to the amazement of all. Even more amazing, the bull-man stands immobile as she draws very near, putting her dagger to his throat and looking up at the judges. Understanding that the minotaur has been held fast by the mage’s spell, and is helpless to her, even though she has to reach above her head to threaten his throat, the judges award Silvara the victory. Seeing her success, she winks at the minotaur, walks back to her starting point, casts another spell and then releases her opponent. The crowd, at first muttering and stirring in their discontent, turns to watch events unfold. "Okay, you bullshead." she calls, "Now that we have settled that let's give these people the fight that they came for. Or don’t you have the guts anymore?" The minotaur glowers, only barely containing his mounting rage. He considers for a bit, then starts chugging forward as though to avenge his honor. He brandishes his sword by way of answer, slowly gaining speed towards the slight elf. As he does so, she completes another spell, and three large missiles streak from her outstretched hands, striking him with their energy and buffeting him with explosions. Dazed but undaunted, the minotaur lashes out, trying to strike the small elf with his sword. He swings and misses terribly, confused by explosions that pound into him. Silvara blinks away from Arrngha fifteen feet straight back, to reappear facing the minotaur and again her hands move in casting motions while her lips form arcane words. The minotaur spins quickly, covering the slight distance between the two of them and slashing with his sword. One swing misses the nimble elf completely, while the other seems to glance off the shimmering field of translucent flames about her body. The minotaur bellows his frustration. Then once more, five of the terrible missiles are launched from her hands. Again they impact cruelly into Arrngha, buffeting him with their magics. He seems helpless before them, as he again raises his sword towards his opponent. Silvara looks at her stubborn opponent and shakes her head, a slight smile on her lips. No sooner has she done so before she again blinks away, reappearing behind the man-beast. With a snarl he spins about, sword leading the way. His first strike misses completely, but the second swings low, hitting, only to have the blow bounce off the elf’s magics. She then shrugs and her hands again flutter through the motions of a spell and seconds later a sharp cone of cold springs from her hands to engulf the minotaur. He shrugs off the cold and presses his attack once more. Silvara’s normally mischievous face suddenly turns serious and she points her staff at the minotaur. "It is time to end this here and now. You have suffered long enough. Remember this when you decide to face another Disciple." With that a beam lances from the staff, a beam the color of death. The minotaur is bathed in the sickly darkness, his features distorted in horror and pain. But when the energy stopped flowing he still stands, and snarls his defiance as he strikes out against the mage. Again his blow bounces harmlessly away from the elf and his follow-up stroke misses completely. The once proud and well-groomed minotaur is now battered and swaying, but there is a grim, determined look on his face as he prepares to attack again. A look of approval comes into the eyes of Silvara, surely this was one courageous fighter. Quickly she mumbled another chanting and her hand snakes out. A swarm of missiles sped from her outstretched hand, targeted at the minotaur. They slam into him, again making him grunt with the force of their impact. In response, the minotaur swings at the elf only to have the blow glance off her magics. As he readies for a second swing, the elf disappears and reappears behind him. The beast-man turns towards his opponent and drops his sword, raising his hands so they are outstretched, ready and reaching for the elven maid. With a menacing growl he advances on her. Silvara gives an audible sigh and raises her hands again. This beast was tough, that much was sure. She then blinked away 15 feet back and a black ball of force speeds from her hand aimed for the minotaur. Again he is bathed in blackness and remains standing once the darkness passes. But his muscles will not work, and he stands motionless after the vicious magical attack. Frustrated by her tough opponent, Silvara wastes no time but blinks quickly backwards and casts a spell, but nothing seems to happen. The half-elf repeats her actions, blinking backward and then casting a spell - but this spell is ended by a menacing sweep of her staff and a massive fireball shoots forth from it streaking towards the minotaur. The beast stands immobile and takes the full fury of the flame that engulfs him there is a roar and the rapidly rising air pulls the dust off the floor. The crowd sits hushed, waiting to see the result. As the dust settles, all that remains of the minotaur is cinders. Silvara raises her staff in triumph, bows to the mayor and the audience and walks out. The crowd sits silent as the half-elf strides from the floor of the Arena.