What a day for a contest!  The streets are bustling with people, the 
birds are singing their mating songs, and the weather is as could as one 
could want.  Neither to warm nor cool, with a hint of breeze to stir the 
air.  A few fleecy white clouds scud across the sky like clipper ships 
carrying cargo to ports never visited by mortals.

    The match today pits one sneak thief against another.  This is more 
likely to become a battle of cunning and intrigues, rather than spell 
slinging or blades clashing.  Two masters of cunning are to meet on the 
field of combat today.  One is an elf named Maleki, the other a kobold known 
as Kreeshnik.  Both vied for the same position in the rankings.  As a 
country may only have one king, so to the position only could be filled by 
one competitor.  Neither combatant had long records in the games, and so 
betting was sparse, more a gamble than usual.

    Soon a trumpet blast silences the boisterous crowd, giving the announcer 
of the games an opportunity to present the combatnats and begin the contest.

    "Today, Gentlebeings, we will watch what promises to be a most 
entertaining fight.  Coming from the north end, I present Kreeshnik the 
Kobold."  Boos go up from the crowd as a  little Kobold, little more than 
waist high, comes out looking less dangerous than many of the guards in the 
crowd today  to maintain order.  Wearing a black cloak and clothes 
underneath to match, the Kobold didn't look to be much of a threat.  A 
couple ioun stones buzzed about the little fellow.

    "At the opposite end of the Arena, I present to you Maleki the Elf."  
When the competitor Maleki stepped forth, fans didn't know quite what to 
think.  He certainly resembled no elf ever seen before.  Those well traveled 
in the realms recognized the monstrosity that emerged, however.  Seldom seen 
and always persecuted, the word mongrelman came to mind.  For the elf, or 
whatever he had become, had two heads like an ettin, though one faced 
forwards while the other looked behind.  From a somewhat bloated body 
emerged six arms, and in each the elf-thing held a different weapon.  The 
more faint-hearted among the crowd let out a gasp at the monstrosity the elf 
had become.  He also had an ioun stone circling about him.  Perhaps blades 
would clash this afternoon after all, some hoped.

    "By my words, let today's Games begin!" called out the announcer, having 
seen far uglier than Maleki during his tenure in the Arena.

    As the announcer finishes his final syllable, each man makes a slight 
gesture and becomes invisible.  A collective groan rises from the fans, for 
except those in the Lord Mayor's or Judges Box, and perhaps some 
spellwielders in the crowd, none could see what was going on.  Sure, sooner 
or later the two individuals would become visible, one more likely than not 
skewered from behind through the kidneys or heart by the other.  But until 
the instant when that happened, the battlefield seemed as empty as the 
desert.

    As the seconds began creeping into minutes, some fans were on the edge 
of their seats so as to witness the fateful moment.  Others sat back in 
their seats and prepared to witness a long, drawn out combat where most of 
the action was a mystery.  And the people who had been forced to purchase 
standing room tickets began to boo and jeer as they shuffled from one foot 
to the other, until the guards began making their way in the direction of 
the most vocal critics.

    Without any warning, an iron golem suddenly appeared in the middle of 
the arena floor.  Silently, it begins prowling about for something.  A few 
moments later, a stentorian blast of thunder louder than the arena trumpeter 
sounds, and about fifty yards from the Arena center, Kreshnik the kobold 
appears hovering twenty feet above the dirt floor of the Arena.

    In the next instant the kobold flies forward and reaching into a pouch, 
removes an object and hurls it forward into the air ahead of him.  The ball 
travels about 30 feet and suddenly erupts like a big puffball mushroom 
bursting, expanding into a large set of heavy iron bands, which hang 
suspended in mid air.  After several moments, the form of Maleki appears 
within the circular bands, struggling to break free of the entrapment.  As 
he strains mightily and the bands begin to bulge, the kobold makes a small 
gesture and a lightning bolt blasts from his right hand into his trapped 
opponent, causing blue lightning to arc and dance over the metal bands, but 
otherwise doing them no damage.  The elf is left charred and smoking as he 
and the bands drop to the ground with a dull thud.  The judges signal the 
contest over, and with a spoken word from the kobold the metal bands 
encircling the mutated elf disappear once more to become a small object that 
he returns to his pocket.  Looking up toward the stunned audience who had so 
readily dismissed him, he made a typical Koboldic gesture of sticking a 
finger in one nostril and blowing his nose at the crowd.  He walked off 
smiling while the crowd booed the short runt.  In the mean time healers 
hurried to the horribly charred elf.