Torgal stretches his arms above his head and opens his mouth in an enormous yawn. "Is there a particular reason that you are waking me so early Melanos?" Torgal raises into a sitting position on his bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping lady beside him.
"Its early evening sire and I believe Whisper and Ackeron are scheduled for a long overdue fight?" Melanos' stern look, from his one good eye, at his friend and employer shows his dissatisfaction for Torgal's recent binge of drinking and carousing. A moment later the gnome spins and departs the room.

Torgal's arm stretches out for the wine glass beside the bed and brings it to his lips. He pauses momentarily before returning it to the table. Not right now, he thinks to himself. Standing and pulling his dark silk robe around him he staggers towards the main sitting area of his opulent chamber. "You know Melanos, I think this move to our own little pocket dimension was worth the hassle from those 'Planar Protector' groups. I mean we have only had one incident so far and it took mere minutes for you to stop the beast from exiting to Waterdeep. I'll spend more on increasing the security force considering the increase in audience attendance. Where the hell is my water?" Torgal's face twists in frustration and pain as the effect of a night of drinking pound in his head.

"Just inside the entrance. If your going to be hiring might I suggest a few more spell-slingers? We have ample muscle but these beasts aren't always the simple tooth and claw variety. We could probably invest some time and money in getting those lower tunnels explored and figure out how they are gating in anyways. But enough chat, are you going to announce the fight. The crowd is getting really impatient." Melanos calmly sips his cold ale.

Torgal stares at Melanos as he downs his water. Silently he strides to the railing and looks out over the assembled masses. "Ladies and Gentlemen!" he booms. The crowd immediately drops into hushed voices. "Tonight is the first fight in our new location. I hope you found the trip here easy enough and please understand that I have your safety as my top priority. The security force patrolling the complex is more than capable of dealing with any threat. But enough, lets talk violence and mayhem! Whisper, the dark mage that spent much time lurking in the shadows has begun to rise up and make himself a presence. Tonight he will face Ackeron the Faithless. He has worshipped more gods than dragon has gold coins! But he comes to us tonight with his faith in one being… himself! This fight should be good, so sit back and enjoy! Let the combatants in!" Torgal briefly nods to the gate guards and the large metal gates begin to swing inward.

Whisper strides into the arena first. His black cloak flowing behind him as his eyes burn with infernal fire. A grim look of determination crosses his face as he readies himself for his opponents entry. Ackeron steps from the darkness of the entrance tunnel and is bathed in the torchlight of the arena. His armor shines bright but the dull look in his eyes reflect his lack of inner faith in anything but himself. Standing ready the two combatants anticipate the unspoken command and a mere second passes before it is given.

Both men immediately begin speaking the arcane and divine words to their spells. Whisper's enacts first and he is suddenly bathed in unnatural darkness. Ackeron continues with his spell, increasing the intensity of the words until three forms begin to take shape in the middle of the arena. The three large rats quickly begin scurrying towards the impenetrable darkness. As the three rats disappear into the darkness it quickly dissipates, and the crowd lets out a brief gasp as they quickly realize that Whisper is nowhere to be seen. Ackeron quietly swears under his breath and begins the words to another spell, ending it with a brief flash that surrounds the cleric for but a moment.

The three rats sniff the air and scurry about attempting to detect the foe that their master bid them to attack. The middle of the arena darkens momentarily and a shadow forms from nothingness. The shadow becomes solid as a midnight black dire rat charges towards Ackeron. Almost as soon as the first rat forms a second shadowy rat takes shape. Ackeron brings his mighty bastard sword around and prepares to cleave the rats since their master is nowhere to be seen.

The three rats of Ackeron's creation dissolve into the nothingness from which they came and almost as soon as they wink out of existence, the dark form of Whisper appears, in the act of throwing a bag at Ackeron. The bag connects with the cleric and a white gooey spray covers him. Ackeron attempts to avoid it but in the end he is held fast. With grim determination he fends the two rats off with his blade while struggling to release himself from the glue. Whisper steps back and the words to another spell begin to leave his lips.

Ackeron, blood oozing from many tiny wounds dispatches one of the rats with a might swing of his blade and the second rat returns to the shadows from which it was formed. The words to a divine spell begin to pour forth from Ackeron's mouth as a hammer of spiritual might coalesces into existence next to the mage. A small tremor shakes the arena floor and the middle of the arena begins to churn and erupt outward. From the ground itself an octopus pulls itself up. The octopus begins pulling itself towards the faithless cleric slowly as its tentacles seems to move with the rigidity of stone.

The hammer of Ackeron strikes down at the dark mage and with a loud crack it crumples the mage's shoulder. Whisper screams out in pain but grits his teeth and begins another spell. Ackeron fights wildly attempting to keep the many tentacles of the octopus at bay and although many of those tentacles miss some still hit and score bloody marks against any exposed flesh they find.

Another tremor reverberates through the cavern as a second rock octopus crawls forth from the ground and immediately sets upon the cleric. Even as the last words of his spell leave his lips, Whisper begins the words again and another creature begins to form from the shadows again. Whisper deftly avoids the strikes from the hammer and continues his spell without pause. Ackeron fights valiantly and after several seconds of parrying and dodging as best he can he finally scores a mighty hit and a spiderweb of cracks form across the body of one of the summoned beasts. The creature slowly sinks into the arena floor. Ackeron smiles grimly as he continues to fight the creatures off and gain freedom from the glue trapping him. His smile turns to terror as tentacles reach up from the ground below him and strike out.

The melee continues for several more rounds as three more dire rats join the fight. Ackeron fights valiantly, dispatching a few of the summoned creatures and even managing to free himself from the bonds of the infernal glue. As the last of the creatures wink from existence, Ackeron is standing, breathing hard and bleeding profusely.

Both fighters stare at each other. Injuries covering their bodies. Time seems to slow as the next moment unfolds. Whisper raises a crossbow he had loaded while Ackeron was busy fighting off his fiends. Ackeron's feet dig into the sand as he sets his body in motion for a charge. A soft click can be heard as the crossbow's mechanism releases the taunt cord and sends the bolt sailing towards the faithless cleric. Ackeron's eyes widen and although his brain recognizes the danger he doesn't have time to react. The crossbow bolt tears through armor, cloth, skin, muscles and the tissue of the cleric's heart before stopping. The body takes a few more steps forward before crashing to the ground.

"I bet he feels worse than I do right now. Speaking of which it is time for bed…" Torgal stands and makes his way back to his sleeping chamber.