The crowd waited in the stands and boxes, impatient as always.  About 
the only time they weren't impatient was after a bloodbath, when their need 
for excitement had been momentarily sated.  Neither the city's Treasurer or 
Mayor could argue the fact that the Games earned princely sums of money for 
the city of Saberhaven.  As dear as they were in value there was always a 
demand for more private boxes, where
guildmasters, bankers, and other men of means could sit in relative peace 
and comfort.  These comfortable cubicles not only were proof against the 
seasons heat and cold, but the owner could order fine victuals brought to 
them while they enjoyed watching the event through an enchanted window that 
wasn't decieved by illusion or invisibility.  One took what one could get in 
this life; even Koobon, the successful centuar gladiator, was only a mere 
slave.  Wherever one sat in the Arena though, one could always be assured of 
surprises.

    A brass horn fanfare brought a hush over the crowd. Their wishes were 
about to be granted.  In dulcet tones, the announcer called: "From the north 
end of the arena comes a fierce dwarven warrior, a berserker,
Dalkar Stonebiter!"  The dwarf looked unlike most of his kind.  It wasn't 
enough that he wore only common chain mail armor.  Nor was it enough that 
his hair and beard looked like a home for vermin and things less savory.  
But that he had allowed his body to be used like a canvas by some demented 
artist - as much of his skin was bare could be seen to be covered with 
tattoos, and it was obvious that they didn't stop where his armor began.  He 
had a riot of gold rings, but they weren't on his fingers.  No, they were 
pierced through his lips, cheek and brow!  Warhammers swung at his sides, 
while he carried a battle axe in guantlets which looked more suited for 
mining coal than fighting with big hobnails sticking out of the knuckles.

    "Out of the south gate comes the elven archer known only as Archie".  
The elf was dressed in dun colored tunic and breeches, to make him that much 
harder to see on the dusty Arena floor.  Unlike his dwarven opponent the elf 
was dressed in splendid elven chain mail armor, well kept and glistening in 
the light. Two swords hung by his sides in scabbards of fine lizard-skin 
leather, the swords golden grips and crosspieces polished to a gleam just 
like his armor. He had bow and quiver, the quiver graven in elven runes 
while the bow glowed with the vibrancy of the heartwood of a mighty oak.  An 
orangish glow seemed to
hang about him.  A handful of ioun stones darted in orbits about his head 
and shoulders.  With well kept brown hair and fine skin, the elf seemed the 
very opposite of the unkempt dwarf.  Elven and dwarven supporters in the 
stands voiced their approval for both sides, the dwarves being much more 
bellicose than the reserved elves.

    "Let the Games begin!" cried out the announcer.  The dwarf hadn't taken 
but two steps before Archie released his nocked arrow and notched and 
released a second.  The dwarf sprouted two shafts of wood just as
quickly, as each arrow pierced the dwarf, slicing through his chain mail 
like parchment.

    But the dwarf charged across the field like a bull, screaming like a 
wounded pig.  The dwarven onlookers knew that Dalkar was crying out a 
dwarven battlesong at the top of his lungs, working himself into a rage
as he ran.  But his legs could carry him no faster than your average dwarf, 
which gave the archer far too much time to wield his weapon.  Arrows flew 
across the battlefield like angry wasps.  Only once did Archie break his 
rhythm for a moment as he dropped an arrow, but in a heartbeat he had 
regained his rhythm and a half-dozen arrows flew for the dwarf's heart.

    Most of them hit fairly near that organ too.  The dwarf fell forward 
devoid of life, the light in his eyes extinguished as the priests ran forth 
to give what succor they could.  Archie simply stood another few moments to 
be sure the tough dwarf was down for good, then turned on his heel and 
departed, never having walked more than five feet from his exit tunnel.