The two combatants take their places at the outside of the arena. One, a human-- Craningar Rue-- is clad all in black armor, with a wicked-looking black-hafted battle axe resting at his side. As the crowd watches curiously, the sinister cleric waves his hand, chanting in prayer, and a tangible aura of evil and a strength born of darkness surrounds him. The other, Rannos the Fatherless-- a dour, bare-chested dwarf-- waves a gauntleted hand, and a sparkling shield flashes about him before disappearing from view.

"Begin!" Ivan Zagad drops his black-robed arm, signaling that the two combatants may enter the arena. Rannos enters first, stepping back to the stone door to the arena and running one hand reverently across it. As he does so, he lets out an eerie, despairing moan. Craningar Rue only sneers, raising a fist to the crowd. "Glory of Bane!" he cries. The spectators, unappeased by the displays, offer the combatants a belligerent grumbling as they settle back to wait for the beginning of the fight.

Immediately, Craningar begins to chant a prayer. A shadowy flail appears in the air in front of the dwarf and takes a vicious swipe at his unarmored body, only to be deflected by an invisible force. In response, Rannos waves his hand to cast a spell, drawing a small pouch from his belt as he does so. Bellowing battle cries to Hextor, Craningar runs toward the dwarf, waving his axe. The dwarf waits for his human enemy to come within range, then hurls the pouch. The glow of magic surrounds the pouch as it flies truly through the air to connect with the charging cleric, spreading a glob of gooey glue-like substance over him. He is stuck fast to the stone floor.

As Craningar cries out in frustration and hacks at the goo, Rannos waves his hand again in the same spell of accuracy, this time over his spear. It, too, flies true and catches the frustrated priest in the shoulder. Black eyes flashing in anger, Craningar tears free and charges--hampered now by the remains of the goo-- at Rannos. As he does so, the dwarf drops a pile of metal spikes to the floor from a pack at his side and casts yet another spell over a spear, setting the weapon against his opponent's charge.

In his rush to reach Rannos, Craningar meets the spikes. He screams in pain and slows as the caltrops bite into the soles of his feet. Unsmiling but grimly triumphant, Rannos leans forward to impale the priest of Bane upon his shortspear. But by some strange luck, Craningar slips on the stone floor, bowling the surprised Rannos over and slashing at his chest. The dwarf scrambles away and backs off from Craningar toward the other end of the arena, breathing heavily, clutching at his wound. Craningar grins and starts to move toward Rannos again, but he can only hobble along-- his goo-covered, bleeding feet no doubt wracking his body with pain. Rannos reaches for another spear. In frustration, Craningar calls out to Bane. His prayer is answered: Rannos freezes in place, his face trapped in a grim stare, his hands helpless at his side. Craningar runs, stumbling, towards his foe.

He nears Rannos just as the spell on the dwarf comes to an end. The dwarf just has time to cast another spell of accuracy and raise his spear before the two combatants meet. The haggard cleric attempts a vicious cut to his opponents unarmored body. But in his weakness, Craningar oversteps himself and stumbles forward. Rannos stabs quickly at the cleric's back, scraping at the black armor and finding an open joint. Craningar growls in pain, and the two combatants step back to assess their wounds.

A hush fills the arena as Rannos casts his spear aside and draws his huge two-handed sword from its sheath along his back. He intends to finish the fight now. Craningar limps towards him, battle axe ready.

Rannos mutters a few words of magic, and his sword hums with further magic. He swings the weapon at Craningar with all of his strength, and the weapon bites deep into the cleric's side. Craningar manages one shallow slash into Rannos' side before he collapses, weakened by pain, to the ground. Rannos swings, drops his sword, and takes up a spear. He stabs once, twice, Craningar holds up his battle axe to block the attacks. Rannos swings the spear down once more, and it penetrates Craningar's armor. The priest of Bane shudders and collapses, unconscious and bleeding. The crowd breaks out in frenzied applause.

"My. . . congratulationsssss. . ." Ivan Zagad hisses to the dwarf from the arena's edge as the clerical staff moves out toward the combatants. "I am pleasssed to see a . . . magusss. . . who usssesss hissss powersss with. . . sssuch forethought. If you do well here, you would be a welcome addition to my. . . disciplessss." The lizard man grins, and his tongue flicks out as though to scent the air. "Perhapsss . . .you will think on it?"