The Games of Saberhaven
Dakkon vs. The Warlord
        The crowd is in for a real thriller today! The moon is out for this night fight and the crowd eagerly anticipates the arrival of the competitors, particularly the relitively new warrior, Dakkon, who initiated the challenge for the match. Winning the match could mean big things for this newcomer.
        As Dakkon steps through the doors, the crowd begins to cheer. Though not the greatest looking fighter, he walks with the stride of an accomplished warrior and his muscles are finely tuned. There appears to be a silver sheen around him as he strides into the Arena and his pocket is glowing strangly. He has a crossbow cocked and loaded, and two swords on his back. He takes careful aim and waits for The Warlord's doors to open.
        The Warlord is an impressive sight to behold as he steps through his Arena doors. He is a huge dominating seven foot monster who appears to be the epitome of true fighting. His two swords glow with power and the boots on his feet dischage energy constantly. As he enters the Arena, he glowers and slits his eyes, showing the crowd what he thinks of them, which is echoed by a chorus of boos. The crowd now appears to be on Dakkon's side, which he might need badly.
        As the match starts, The Warlord phases out of existance as Dakkon unloads his crossbow. His shot is not rewarded with a responce so he causiously begins to make his way to the center of the Arena, aware of the deadliness of the Warlord at close range.
        Dakkon scans around the Arena, looking for some sign of his enemy. His beautiful crossbow is held at arms length, seeming to sniff out The Warlord. All of a sudden, a bump is heard in what seems to be thin air. Dakkon unloads in that direction and a cry of outrage is heard. The Warlord fades into view again and Dakkon smiles smugly, mission accomplished.
        From inside the invisible barrier Dakkon sneers, then shouts, "Decided to show yerself have you?" He unloads twice more at The Warlord, who nimbily leaps out of the way. The Warlord pounds on the walls, keeping him from his oppponent with fury, then lets out a bestial roar and fades out of sight.
        Dakkon reloads his crossbow, racously crying out to the crowd.
        "Ha, look at him folks. Oops, you can't, because he likes to hide. The Warlord he fashions himself. More like The COWARD!"
        He suddenly spins and unloads at his left flank and his rear, but no shots are awarded with a hit. Dakkon ponders what to do about his unseen opponent.
        Dakkon looks at his decreasing ammo supply from inside his protective bubble and sighs deeply. He drops his crossbow to his side and draws out two wicked scimitars. The crowd erupts in support. Some blood is going to be shed!
        Dakkon clears his throat and says, "Come on out of yer pathetic hiding, pal, and we can finish this. I will never drop my shield until you decide to show yer sorry hide."
        "SO BE IT!" comes the booming reply and the Warlord reappears, five feet to the left of Dakkon and murmurs, "Let's go sissy."
        The faint shimmering around Dakkon stops and the Warlord lunges in snarling an incomprehensible battle cry as he slices foward. His first attack rips open Dakkon as he flashes inside Dakkon's feint. Dakkon brings his scimitar around and launches an attack at The Warlord's sword, knocking it away. The Warlord roars in outrage of having lost his weapon and slices with his second longsword, nearly severing Dakkon's arm. Dakkon slices at the second sword, but The Warlord pulls it away, and Dakkon can't jar it loose. Dakkon's scimitars slash back and foward as he tries to disarm his opponent, yet the Warlord evades him each time. The Warlord then launches his last two attacks, neatly carving up Dakkon. Dakkon is now bleeding severely and takes in sevral labored breaths, pondering his next move.
        The Warlord eyes his lost sword longingly then launches a flurry of attacks with his remaining sword. It dives in past a block and rips open Dakkon's midsection, the sword piercing the spinal column and leaving Dakkon spitted on the massive sword. The Warlord slips the broken figure of Dakkon off as if it was a rag doll. He then lets out a bestial scream and runs to his weapon. He flips off the crowd's adoration as he runs unbelieveably fast through his doors leaving the clerics to reassemble Dakkon.

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