The anticipation in the air was electric as Jeldorain was escorted through the labyrinthine corridors of Khazud-Tharik. The path to the arena was a departure from the opulence of the throne room, leading instead through stark, towering passageways that seemed to pulse with the lifeblood of the kingdom. I could hear the distant clanging of metal, the resonant sounds of preparation echoing off the stone walls.

As we approached the arena, the corridors widened, opening up to a massive underground coliseum. Carved directly into the heart of the mountain, the arena was old and covered in runes like those we’d seen on our way into the king’s castle. Magical orbs jutted out from the walls and hung from the high ceiling on incredibly long chains, casting a fierce, flickering light that danced across the jagged stone and the faces of the eager crowd.

The arena itself was a vast pit, surrounded by rising tiers of seats carved from the living rock. Thousands of dwarves were already filling the stands, their voices merging into a deafening roar of excitement. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, ale, and the earthy scent of stone. Everywhere I looked, there were banners and symbols representing various clans and factions of the kingdom, their colors vibrant in the artificial light.

The entrance to the arena floor was like stepping into another world. The noise of the crowd hit me like a physical force, a wave of sound that washed over me, filling me with a mix of exhilaration and apprehension. I glanced around, taking in the faces of the spectators – it was eerie to see their faces. The vast bulk of them were cruel, screaming for blood and death as they sucked down their tankards.

And from a barred prison built into the side of the fighting area, I caught sight of Kevinar and Ike, flanked by guards and other prisoners. They watched from the sidelines, their faces plain and stoic. Ike was leaning forward, his eyes never leaving me, while Kevinar’s gaze darted around, taking in the layout and the crowd.

Jeldorain was brought into a chamber and allowed some privacy for the time before the fight began. It was impressive how quickly the word had spread and how many were already in the stands. I wondered if the wait would be nearly as long as I had expected.

As I waited for the impending battle in the arena of Khazud-Tharik, I found myself deep in conversation with Jeldorain, my internal companion and guide. The challenge set before us by King Thoranos was clear - a test of endurance against monstrous foes. Such a scenario wasn't unfamiliar to me; it mirrored the grueling battles I had faced in Lords of Chaos. Yet, this was no game. The stakes were real, and survival depended on our strategic acumen.

“Jeldorain, we have to approach this with precision,” I began, staring eye to eye with his soul, my voice echoing in the confines of our shared consciousness. “King Thoranos mentioned monsters, which screams endurance match. We need to be careful with our resources.”

Jeldorain’s voice rolled over me. “Indeed, Ryan. My ASSERT spell shouldn’t be used unless it is absolutely necessary. We should reserve it for neutralizing any magical threats we encounter.

I nodded to myself, considering his advice. “Unless something is basically invincibly magical. Right. If we face a horde of small mobs, frost magic is perfect for crowd control. We can slow them down, maybe even create barriers.”

“Certainly,” Jeldorain agreed. “Minor Healing might be good to engage after the first wound as well. It’s a steady drain on mana, yes, but will be crucial for maintaining health.”

I paused, a sudden thought gripping me.

“Put me back in charge. That way I can summon you to combat if I need to, maybe surprise the biggest baddie and take him out hard and fast.”

Jeldorain’s face twisted into surprise. “Not a bad idea, though I want to be put back in charge when it comes time to eat them.”

I chuckled. “I’d also like you to do that.”

“Good,” he responded. “When the monsters first come out, Sense Motive might not be a bad idea. It's low-cost and could provide foresight, keeping us a step ahead of the monsters’ tactics.”

Thinking of my combat skills, I added, “My S-rank in Whips and Scourges should come in handy. Whirlwind Attack for multiple enemies and Swing for evasion and positioning. I think I can manage to snag one of those lights hanging down from the ceiling.”

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“Shadowmeld if we need to reposition,” Jeldorain said, stroking his chin.”

I contemplated the strategic use of my spells. “Ball Lightning?” I asked.

Joldorain shook his head. “It’s a heavy mana cost. Do as much damage as possible with your smaller abilities. The arena itself is part of the battle, so use its layout to your advantage, and don’t hesitate to make tactical retreats for better positioning. This is an arena built by infernals to award the merit of smart fighters. There will be many opportunities.”

“And what about Raise Skeletal Ally and Size of a Tempest?” I questioned. “They’re powerful, but one-off abilities.”

“Summon the skeletal ally early on,” he suggested. “It’ll give us insight into the strength of our opponents. Save the Size of a Tempest for a critical moment, where its overwhelming power could decisively shift the battle in our favor.”

I nodded internally. “We’re going to need to be adaptable, Jeldorain. You see anything, get any ideas, let me know.”

“Indeed, Ryan,” Jeldorain affirmed. “Together, your great champion ingenuity and my demonic prowess make us a formidable team. We will be unstoppable.”

At that moment, the announcer’s voice boomed through the arena, the result of a series of brilliant angles and hollows being carved into the ceiling to amplify all of the sound within the fighting pit as well as that of the man standing on the announcing platform. Doors opened on the side of my chamber, a pair of dwarves standing ready to lead me into the arena. I moved into the command position inside our shared body, then followed them out into the roar of the arena.

Walking through the long corridor, I could hear chants and screams rising, the words, “Infernal,” being chanted on repeat. Jeldorain grinned, watching over by metaphysical shoulder as we stepped out into the packed dirt of the arena proper.

I don’t know what I expected. Perhaps a lifetime of watching the WWF had given me ideas on how these things were supposed to start, or how they should be done. But here there weren’t the twenty minutes of bikini girls walking around, waving to the crowd. There wasn’t a meeting of the contestants for a friendly paw to paw send off to our corners of the place.

Here it was just like in the game. Once I walked in, the gates closed behind me, and the audience simmered down, their noise dropping in obvious expectation of what was going to come next.

I turned my attention to the entrance gates opposite me, where the monstrous combatants would soon emerge. Each gate was adorned with runic carvings and symbols, hinting at the horrors they held within. My frozen heart raced and Jeldorain nearly crooned in bloodlust.

I clenched my fists against the sudden salty wash of blood on my tongue, flooding down my throat to satiate a starving belly. It was coming soon, and my limbs were near shaking for want of it. As the first monster gate creaked open, I steadied myself rolling through our talk on strategy.

To my surprise, even before the first monstrous opponent had a chance to lumber into the arena, the second gate was opening.

They’re setting them free all at once! Jeldorain exulted. I took a moment to observe my surroundings, seeing not just the grandeur of this colossal structure, but the sectioning of it as well. As I’d expected, there was a large overhanging box at the head of the arena, where I had no doubts sat the king of the place alongside his closest of courtiers and advisers. Switching to the battlefield itself, I was that we’d be fighting in a vast circular pit, but one that carried the outlines of pit traps, humps of hills for cover, and even a long deep trench that ran down through the center of it all. The magical orbs that hung from above bathed it all in a harsh, flickering light that swayed and flickered to give the space an almost ravish sputtering glow.

As a third gate opened, but the monsters of the first still hesitated to leave, I examined the seating tiers. They were hewn directly from the rock and filled to capacity with dwarves from all walks of life. The lower tiers were occupied by the nobility and distinguished guests, their rich garments and shiny armors reflecting the light in a dazzling display of color and opulence. Higher up, the common folk stood on their seats, eagerly watching for first blood.

Finally the first beast left its gate, even as a fourth was opening. To my side I saw that Kevinar and Ike were here, watching with tense expressions amidst a mob of other prisoners from behind a series of prison bars, a covered cage in a rounded formation, standing in manacles and chains to see both the fight, and the fate that awaited them.

I turned from them, my arms and armor ready for the fight. Twirling my icearigama in my hand, I walked over to the closest hill, ready to use it to dodge any missile attacks that might come my way.

As I crouched beside it, I finally caught a good look of the first gate’s denizen. The creature was a massive beast, its form a terrifying amalgamation of rock and flesh. It moved with a ponderous, deliberate grace, its huge and bloodshot. It sniffed the air, letting out a fearsome bellow and stalking outward on all six of its massively wide legs.

A fifth gate began to clink and clank, rolling itself open, and I stared in disbelief. They weren’t just throwing some monsters at me. They were gonna throw them all at me.

Inside of my body, Jeldorain let out a massive, bloodthirsty laugh.

Let them come. Tonight, we dine red, thick with the blood of our enemies.