The tunnels under the arena opened up to a large cafeteria-style eatery. A veritable buffet of almost every imaginable kind of food stood waiting to be consumed.

Kermit gasped in awe.

The group filled their plates, and then their bellies. The guild masters ate at a separate table, though Andy noticed several of them, especially Gar and Antoine, catching glimpses of the group. He couldn't quite tell, but it seemed like they were placing bets.

Finally, the druid stood up and clapped his hands, commanding the attention of the room.

"Today marks an important day!" he said. "The first otherworlder arena event we've had in years!"

The guild master table erupted in cheers.

"Now, as you well know, all guild masters are encouraged to view the entire event. Please take notes if you wish."

The druid then turned to Andy, Arlene, and Kermit.

"As for you, please know, the guild masters will be scrutinizing your every move, not so that they may judge you or tear you down, but so that they can make a fair offer if they like what they see."

Offer? They'll want to pay us?

"If you do well, you may have several guilds bidding for your participation!" the druid continued. "And, to top things off, the duke himself will be in attendance."

"Arsehole!" Bertha called.

Several guild masters laughed heartily while many others scowled and began to argue back. The guild master's table began to devolve into chaos.

"Hear, hear!" the druid said, calling the room back to order. "I am only saying these things so that the new arrivals understand what is at stake and give their best performance."

"They'll give a right good performance alright," Bertha said, shooting a smile over to the group's table. "Best level 0 swordsman, and the best level 0 archer I've ever seen come through 'ere!"

She raised a glass, met with several cheers.

"Wow," said Andy, looking toward Arlene. "You're a pretty nice shot, huh?"

"It didn't take long," Arlene said, smiling.

"And I believe that Kermit has the potential to be one of the greatest chefs on the Infinite Plane!" the farmer said.

Cheers erupted and Kermit beamed with pride.

The farmer stood up, stepping beside the druid.

"I know that this culture loves combat, heroism, and glory," he said, taking a long, dramatic pause. "Cresthaven is full of brave warriors, powerful sorcerers, and cunning rogues alike!"

Several guild masters voiced their agreement.

"But here you this," the farmer said. "There's only one thing that a Cresthavener loves more than battle…"

"Wot's that!?" Bertha called.

"Good food!" the farmer cried.

The whole hall erupted in applause.

"Hear, hear!" the druid said again.

It took a few moments for the chatter to die down.

"Now, today, you will be tested," he continued, focusing again on Andy, Arlene and Kermit. "Your test will involve many diverse situations. Remember, though, that combat is not the only solution, nor even the best one in every case," he said.

"Bollocks!" Bertha called.

Laughter scattered through the room, dying down quickly.

"Now, allow me to state the rules," the druid said, "both for tradition's sake and for the sake of our new arrivals.

First: you may employ any means at your disposal in order to succeed, provided you remain within the arena. There are two conditions of failure: voluntary resignation or becoming incapacitated before the arena challenge has ended.

Second: you may voluntarily resign at any time by simply touching one of the gates. Assistants will open the gate and assist in your exit as soon as it is safe to do so.

Third: Some opponents may challenge you with combat, others may challenge your non-combat skills. Some may challenge a combination of the two. An opponent is defeated when they become incapacitated, or when they voluntarily resign.

Last: neither the guild masters nor the nobility of Cresthaven will be held liable in the event of your death. Should you respawn, return to Cresthaven, and attempt to sue for damages, none would be considered."

Kermit looked grim as the druid read the final rule.

"Don't worry," the druid said in a low voice that only the new arrivals could hear, "It is very rare indeed that anything serious and long-lasting happens to our contenders. Short of dying, our healers can bring you back from anything."

"With all that said," the druid continued, projecting to the room, "we look forward to seeing what you can do!"

***

After the meal, the group was directed to the armory, where they found light leather armor and various kinds of gear that they could use if they wished.

Besides the armor, Andy took a strap that allowed him to carry his sword on his back, as well as a grappling hook attached to a long length of rope.

Arlene found a quiver with much higher capacity than the one she had received from Bertha, which she attached to her belt, along with a plenty of arrows.

Kermit found a small cast-iron skillet and a medallion with a bear on it.

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Arlene questioned his choices, but Kermit didn't care. He was going to be a chef, so the skillet was a great choice in his mind, and he liked the bear coin. Simple as. Plus, he wanted to be able to cook a meal for his brother, Millford, when they found him.

Finally, the group arrived at the arched entrance of the stadium.

There were arena attendants there, dressed in red, white, and black uniforms, walking back and forth in front of the entrance to ensure that no one got in or out of it.

Andy couldn't see anything clearly, but by the sounds of it, there was already a crowd gathering. He thought about peeking his head out, but the attendants, standing rigidly with spears at their side, seemed like they would make it impossible.

He decided instead to collect his thoughts. He sat cross-legged on the ground, allowing his great sword to rest across his lap.

He saw his dull reflection in the steel of the war-worn blade.

I wonder what battles you have seen...

He gathered all of the lessons he had learned from the guild masters that morning.

To become like fluid, you must let your spirit guide you. To wield the great sword, you must fight, even when it feels impossible. To drain your enemies, you must hold them in contempt. To hit like a berserker, you must thirst for justice, and believe that you can do something about it.

All the feats felt right, except for one.

Andy still didn't feel at ease with the hatred he felt when practicing Drain. It was the only one that didn't sit right with him.

Finding his spirit, enlivening his swordplay with fighting, raging against injustice… these were all emotions that had their place for Andy. Not every emotion was correct for every situation, but they had their use.

Hatred, on the other hand, the kind that Antoine taught… Andy wasn't sure what place that had. Even the most evil enemies… couldn't there be hope for their redemption? Hatred was a purely destructive emotion, one that held no possibility for reconciliation. Andy didn't like that.

But he had to do it. It was what would work the best mechanically, and it would help him avoid putting himself or his friends in unnecessary danger.

Besides, he had to put this hesitation behind him. He knew if he doubted himself during the arena, he could get himself into trouble.

This contempt, it must only be a means to an end, he thought. But I must perfect the means, and I can't let sentimentality get in the way.

He ran through it in his head, recalling the way Antoine had spurred him on, showing him how to tap into his hatred.

Andy did his best to replicate the feeling, but he wanted to keep himself separate from it. To feel it as if it weren't him. To keep it from infecting him.

As long as he could keep it at bay, maybe that was compromise enough.

He imagined Antoine. He allowed himself to seethe with anger. He observed the physical feeling.

It's nothing more than a technology, he told himself. It's not who I am, it's just something I am using.

Somehow, that made him feel better about the whole thing. He could approach the feats, even the unsavory ones, with a pragmatic attitude.

If he needed to, Andy could rethink things later. But for now, pragmatism would have to do.

"Are you ready?" Kermit asked, interrupting Andy's contemplation.

"I am," Andy said quietly, smiling. "Are you?"

"Yep!" Kermit said.

"Kermit," Andy said, thinking of how ill-equipped the boy might be for this. "It might be scary. You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

"I know," Kermit said. "Arlene told me. But she said that you and her would help me if I get in trouble."

Andy smiled.

"We will," he said.

"Besides, I have this," he said, holding up his cast-iron skillet.

Andy and Kermit shared a laugh.

Dilgur the druid the came up to the archway and entered from the outside, getting no resistance from the attendants.

"Well, it is time," the druid said. "Where is Arlene?"

Andy looked around. She was nowhere to be found.

"I don't know," said Kermit. "Is she out there?"

He pointed to the arena.

"No, no," the druid said. "She must be somewhere in the back halls."

"I'll find her," Andy said.

He got up and placed his sword on his back, entering into the back hallways.

It was not so difficult to find her. She was a couple of rooms down the hall, practicing drawing an arrow. Over, and over, and over…

"You good?" Andy asked.

Arlene shook, temporarily startled, but quickly calmed.

"Yep," she said, "just trying to make sure I have the hang of the new quiver. Is it time?"

"It is," Andy said.

She gathered up her arrows and placed her bow on her back. She walked toward the hallway, but stopped short before crossing the threshold.

"I'm worried," she said.

"About?"

"Kermit," she said. "He's so small and innocent and… he just… he took the least useful feats. I'm afraid if he gets hurt, we won't be able to–"

"You heard Bertha," Andy said, trying his best to use a calm, collected tone. "You're the best archer she's seen in a long while. And I'm not so bad with the sword."

Arlene paused.

"I'm just worried something bad is about to happen," she said. "I don't know what we're even doing. What if Tobo's right and some jealous noble tries to have us publicly execu–"

A hint of panic entered her voice, but she quickly swallowed it.

"I just mean, I don't know what's in store… things are moving so fast… I just–" she held her head in her hands.

Andy put his arm around her shoulder. Her back shook as she sobbed quietly.

"It's ok," Andy said. "It's just a game, remember?"

Andy didn't even believe the words as they came out of his mouth. Sure it's a game, but it's absolutely indistinguishable from reality. But that's what he'd want to hear in her position.

Arlene took a breath and relaxed, sniffing a bit as she calmed herself.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah, it's just a game. Yes. Yes, I know. I knew that."

"Good?" Andy asked.

"Yes," she said, wiping her puffy eyes. "Yes, we're good."

Arlene took a moment to collect herself before the two of them made their way back to the entrance.

"Ah, here they are! Our contenders!" the druid said. "Come, come, you're about to make your grand entrance!"

Andy strained to listen. It sounded like an announcer was speaking through a large amplifier, like some sort of cone. From where he was standing, though, the words were indistinct.

Then the crowd cheered.

"That's your cue," said Dilgur. "Best of luck to you, see you on the other side!"

The attendants gestured toward Andy, Arlene and Kermit.

The group headed toward the archway, and finally, emerged into the sandy arena.

The crowd erupted in deafening applause.

The announcer, a plump man in red robes, rode on a floating gold platform. He spoke into a pipe that fed into large, conical horns facing all four directions.

"OUR NEW ARRIVALS!" he said, his amplified voice echoing around the stadium.

Another thunderous applause.

The announcer flew to the center of the stadium, staying high in the air.

Andy jumped a bit at as iron grates slammed down behind them, and then on every archway around the arena's perimeter.

They were locked in now. No going back.

"LET THE GAMES BEGIN!"