Bright Battle Arena was smaller than most people expected. Still huge, of course, a grand old building built from lilac marble and with perhaps more than its fair share of smooth pillars and gilded windows and dark domed roofs, the frontage dominating a square of grey and orange paving stones, the rest surrounded by a hilly park of vivid green grass and perfectly cheery flowers and pleasantly plump trees. No, it wasn't small in the least—but even so, upon first encountering the arena many found themselves with the question, "Where does the actual fighting take place?"

The answer, of course, was that the fighting took place in the arenas. "But isn't that the arena?" many asked, to which the reply was no, that is the Bright Battle Arena, there is a difference (you nescient pleb). Bright Battle Arena served as a gathering point, as a place for auditors to come and cheer on their favoured teams.

"Auditors?" was often the next question, for those ignorant in the ways of the Bright Battle Tournament. "Don't you mean spectators?"

"Of course not," came the answer. "For 'spectator' would imply the viewing of an event. Crystal technology has come a long way since the unknown age, but mass visual broadcasting is still prohibitively expensive. Thus the need for commentators, thus the need for auditory amber crystal lounges, thus auditors. Those who gather together to listen to the matches."

And so as it turned out most of Bright Battle Arena was filled with these lounges, dimly lit in shades of deep blue and ocean green and mystic mauve to enhance the auditory experience, lavishly furnished with long curving couches and tables clustered with edibles. Often the rooms were laid out as a series of wide circular steps surrounding a central sunken area, in which the all-important amber crystal sat within a latticework of shining copper and polished oak.

"But still!" one might exclaim, after having made one's way through the impressively massive foyer of Bright Battle Arena and into a lounge. "But still! Where does the gods-damned fighting happen? If this is the Bright Battle Arena and if the arenas are different to The Arena then where on earth ARE they?"

But of course there was no single answer to this question, aside from a rather unhelpful 'everywhere'. The Bright Battle Tournament currently utilised twenty-seven different arenas found in all parts of the world, deep dungeons and ancient forests and poisonous swamps and maze-like valleys and more besides, areas that had been cleared of darkness by the Adventurer's Guild and repurposed into more civilised places of bloodshed.

One such arena was MossBlock Maze, found in the blasted lands known colloquially as Terror Run. It was a strange, lonely place, high stone walls forming irregularly sized rooms and corridors, open to the permanently overcast sky. True to its name moss grew everywhere, grey and green and yellow and black, and a thick musty odour permeated the arena. All in all, generally speaking, not the most pleasant of locales.

Even so, when its name appeared on the grey marble slab upon the waiting room wall Nala appeared pleased, or if not pleased then at least satisfied, or if not satisfied then she at least nodded to herself, just once and that small. Tzugakk noticed anyway.

"You know it?" he asked. "You know the arena?"

"No reports. Just a map."

Bright Battle Arena's competitor waiting rooms weren't as nice as its lounges, the yellow stone floors and walls and ceilings creating a severely practical atmosphere, stout stone benches and heavy oak doors doing nothing to relieve the austerity. Even the information slabs were little more than functional, simple grey marble with no adornments. Nala had already registered those she would field, and their names showed stark and clean upon the blue team slab to the left:

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CAPTAIN

Dwarf Rogue | Nala Greyward

TEAM

Goblin StenchMerchant | Tzugakk

Human Valkyrie | Mist Reginleif

Human Necromancer | Praetorian Darkcede

Zombie GlumGirl | Amanda Willow

Elf Sniper | Sly Lightfear

TEAM RANK - Z

The arena slab showed MossBlock Maze, but the red team slab remained blank no matter how hard Nala stared up at it. She had found no solid information on how match-ups were determined, but judging by the match listings from previous years they were entirely random; low-ranked teams were regularly put up against high-ranked teams, and were just as regularly crushed. The Bright Battle Tournament was no place for fairness or mercy, this was clear. It was controlled by those with power, high-tiers who wanted to see other high-tiers succeed. Watching (or listening to) A-Rank teams crush F-Ranks—or lower—seemed to be their idea of a good time.

It comes down to this, Nala thought, her narrow eyes fixed upon the red team slab. Chance alone. There are teams we cannot defeat. Teams against which I have no strategy—

Nala stiffened as letters began to form upon the slab, as names and classes appeared:

CAPTAIN

Human Healer | Mathias Dunstaff

TEAM

Human Fighter | Soul Hunter

Human Fighter | Conrad Gaunt

Human Fighter | Owen Vito

TEAM RANK - B

Nala looked down, let out a long breath, clasped her hands together to stop them from trembling. She looked up at the names again, then at the name of the arena, then back at Tzugakk, whose expression was tensely curious.

"This team," Tzugakk said, "it is B-Ranked—"

"Three fighters and a healer. Popular. Conventional. There are a dozen teams like this in the preliminaries—"

Nala was interrupted by a solid click from the far end of the room. The heavy wooden door had unlocked. On the other side was her team; Mist was reluctantly placing her spear in a locker, Praetorian and Amanda stood apart, Amanda with her arms crossed and her head lowered, face hidden by her long hair, Praetorian looking apprehensive and tense. Sly was bent over, puffed out, but he raised a hand in greeting.

"Had to run," he gasped. "Don't wanna talk about it. Anyway. I'm here."

Nala nodded at him, then turned her gaze on Mist.

"I, um ... I'm here too, Nala!" she said. "And I've, um, relinquished my spear ... like you told me ... even if it's a bit scary..."

Amanda glanced at Nala, just the glimpse of a lifeless eye through her straggly hair.

"I'm here," she mumbled. "Hope you're not expecting more than that."

Nala's gaze was already on Praetorian, taking in his halfway amused, halfway annoyed expression.

"Yes, I am present also," he said. "At your service, 'captain'. Though I'm hesitant to do so I must ask, has the future become the present? Do you have a plan, or are we floundering blind? It had better be something extraordinarily impressive, because we appear to have been matched against a B-Ranked team of no doubt heavily armed fighters—and, just in case we manage to accidentally scratch them, they have a healer to erase all evidence of our paltry efforts."

Nala had looked away halfway through Praetorian's little speech, and Tzugakk smiled up at her.

"I am here, Nala. We are all here. Your party. Your team." His smile faltered, just slightly. "Do you have a plan? Can we survive this?"

Once more Nala Greyward looked around at her team. Then she spoke:

"If you all do exactly as I tell you."

Nala nodded, once and firmly.

"We can win."