The small village was in shambles. Villagers lay scattered, dead, or injured. What was once a peaceful fishing village that was built upon the River of Plenty, now knew a sick violence like it had never before experienced.

Summoner and Circe had lay waste to the town, for no other reason than to make violence. Summoner had brought a two headed boar that breathed lightning and fire. Circe fed the blood to her intimidating glaive.

Of course, upon their arrival, a few met them with some weapons, but they were of no match to Circe. Summoner’s boar hadn’t even had a chance to join in on the fun before Circe had sliced them all to pieces.

The village leader had then stepped out of hiding and begged for the lives of his people, but Circe had made quick work in ending his life as well.

Not even twenty minutes later, Fighting Force had shown up. Rictor and Claw defeated the boar with ease and Needle and Gareth had caused Summoner to teleport away.

Seeing the odds were insurmountable, Circe summoned a gust of sharp blood at her foes and rode off on her hovercycle.

Fighting Force and the able villagers worked together to extinguish the flames and then helped the injured.

“You didn’t stay and fight?” Lord Husk asked. He sat on his throne and looked at Circe who sat upon hers.

“Summoner fled once her boar was killed, so it was just me and the five of them. Powerful as I am, those odds aren’t good. I’m sorry, my love.” She turned from him, as if in shame.

Lord Husk rose and walked over to her. He caressed her cheeks and gently brought her face to look at him.

“Don’t be sorry. You did nothing wrong. Summoner is the one that’s disappointed me, she ran out on you. We just need to get a little help, is all.” The two shared a kiss and Lord Husk turned when he heard the doors open as Summoner walked in.

“Your highnesses, I’m sorry for before. I ran away in fear.” Summoner stopped short and looked at the floor.

“We can figure out your punishment later, Summoner. But Circe and I were just discussing that we need to add to our numbers. We need help.”

“Do we hold trials or something?” Summoner asked.

“That might work,” said Lord Husk. Circe and Summoner glared at each other. “Yes, and the top three can join us here in Castle Blight and be considered our allies.” Lord Husk laughed, Circe and Summoner joined in.

Three days later, a colossal stadium had been constructed with magic. The seats were full of monsters, beast men and even a few from outside of The Scorched Wastes. Lord Husk hovered high above the battleground below.

“Welcome all. This is going to be a glorious day. The winning team will join us here in Castle Blight and will join us in destroying Everlight.” He laughed as he spoke, and the stadium roared to life.

Below in the pits, the battleground was divided into four quadrants each quadrant separated by a wall of force. Each quadrant sported two teams of three each.

“This tournament isn’t necessarily to the death,” Lord Husk continued. A wave of discontent roared from the crowds. “But killing is of course, allowed.” Those that booed before now cheered with excitement.

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“I didn’t think this was to the death. I didn’t sign up for this.” A gangly man with an eyepatch and a trident started to back away. He wore home made leather armour and his receding hairline was pulled back into a tight ponytail, showcasing his viscous widow’s peak. He wielded a pitchfork.

“Come on Steve, a tournament to join Castle Blight. Of course death is allowed.” One of his companions, a short woman with two swords, looked at him in disbelief.

The man named Steve continued to back away. His body hit something solid, and he felt a wave of heat surge through his body. His scream in pain ended abruptly as his body exploded, showering his companions in blood and guts.

“We’ve already got first blood!” Lord Husk howled with maniacal laughter and the crowd roared with uncontrollable excitement. It seemed as though that the stadium may collapse under the raucous celebration.

“You have now all seen what happens if you touch the forcefield before it gets brought down. When a team has won, the wall between them and another quadrant will disappear, and the fun can continue. If a team doesn’t have all members surviving, whoever the three still standing are, will be the ones to join us.”

One team of three stood with determination. They looked at each other and nodded. They were a trio that had worked together for a few years now and they intended to join Lord Husk together.

One of these was a musclebound, hulking figure, standing eight feet in height, wearing scraps of furs cobbled together and held by belts. Scales covered his humanoid body and two beady, cruel, yellow eyes blinked from his crocodilian head. Claws clicked together as his tongue licked his lips.

The second member of this team was a portly fellow that wore a simple, brown tunic that barely contained his gut. Brown pants and leather boots finished the outfit with no obvious weapons, it was unclear how he was supposed to fight.

Behind the two of them was a woman with unkempt blonde hair and bits of armour that were clearly from unmatching sets. In place of her two arms were giant blades. She scraped the blades together and smiled.

“Let the carnage begin!” The crowd cheered again.

“Let’s go.” The crocodile led the group against their incoming opponents.

The crocodile immediately clashed with a large man who had a hammer for an arm. The hammer came smashing down but the crocodile caught it just in time with a powerful hand. The man with the hammer arm looked shocked and tried to pull away. The crocodile thrust a hand of claws into the gut of his opponent and pulled out the intestines. The hammer wielding man slumped forward. The crocodile snapped the handle of the hammer with his powerful jaw, grabbed the weapon and hurled it at another target.

The woman with the blade arms ducked underneath the incoming hammer. It crashed into the chest of an immensely gigantic man with comically short legs. He toppled over and the lady with the blade arms pounced upon him and made a fountain of blood. She screamed with laughter as the hot liquid showered everywhere.

The last member of the trio stood with his arms out, fists pointed at his incoming opponent. It was a bipedal ram and it looked savage. As it continued to close the gap, a thick, gooey substance coalesced around the fists of the portly man. This slimy substance fired forward and hit the ram with a loud splat. The ram tripped up and skidded along his face, ripping at his flesh and fur.

The crocodile landed on the ram’s back and grabbed the horns, and with one quick movement, snapped his neck.

“We have our first victorious team, lets see where they go next.” Lord Husk’s voice echoed through the stadium from his throne. The three watched as one of the barriers faded away. Within the now opened quadrant was the team that had lost Steve. Only the woman with the two swords was left as she fought back two advancing attackers, one wielding a chain and the other an axe.

“Go!” The terrifying trio closed the gap and joined the fray. A violent mass of claws, weapons, blood, and slime mixed into one another before rapidly dying out and leaving the three standing, breathing rapidly.

“Oh ho, it looks like these three are the ones to watch,” said Lord Husk. He stretched out his hand and took hold of Circe’s.

“It looks like we might have our three winners,” Circe agreed.

The fighting lasted only another few minutes and it was indeed the trio of the crocodile, blade arms and slime that won.

“People of The Scorched Wastes, I present to you, the winners.” Lord Husk’s voice echoed out once again. The stadium cheered and whooped.

“And your names?” Lord Husk asked.

“I go by Strongjaw,” the crocodile pointed to himself.

“Scizzar.” The woman with blades for arms pointed to herself. “And this is Quagmire,” she pointed to the third member of their group.

“You’ve already got nicknames and they’re great.” Lord Husk smiled. "I think we're going to have a lot of fun."