Spirits of the Earth

It was a warm day at the massive camp. Wearing a brown traveler's cloak over herself Meeta sat by the fire amongst dozens of others. Devouring a small loaf of bread the Essnyri proceeded to drink ale from her wooden cup. Sighing Meeta glanced around, noting humans, orcs and several species just minding their own affairs or hanging out with one another.

I was fortunate to go to that cavern. Now we made it to these mountains and more people are joining us. Not to mention making a deal with the local tribe of orcs and trolls here.

Drinking more of the ale Meeta then stared into the fire. As a child growing up in slavery she sometimes dreamed of what it would be like to travel the world. Closing both eyes, Meeta shook her head.

So much has changed since then...including me.

"You know, when I saw this many people, I expected a party!" boomed a larger-than-life voice full of mirth and spirit.

An imposing figure emerged from the group's outskirts. He was taller than any human and covered in reddish-brown fur. He was, in fact, a Gnoll. Yet his savage visage was offset by lightly armored garb of a traveling bard.

"I see nor hear any such thing! But worry not! The great Thrax is here!" He gave his odd axe-lute a strum, filling the air with an invigorating thrum as he stepped nearer to the fire.

He played an energetic tune and sang a song of epic battle and heroes long buried, a song of victory and celebration. His voice was rough, but also smooth, well suited to raising the morale of weary travelers.

"Now somebody give me a beat!" he said, pausing to chug some ale.

 Meeta sat back and looked on as she listened. Despite Gnoll's fearsome appearance he actually sings quite well. Placing the cup down she crossed her arms over the chest and stayed silent in the midst of the melodies. It did feel her soul felt less burdened than before. At the bard's request there was a brief pause before one of the mountain Orcs started beating on a drum.

"Looks like things are about to get lively." The Essnyri whispered to herself.

Thrax wiped his mouth with his sleeve and rudely belched. Then he began singing again, playing an ever more intense verse as he capered about. He encouraged those gathered to join in and chant along.

At the end, he went into a wild instrumental segment that rolled over the crowd with a sound none gathered had heard before. It was loud and rough and absolutely exhilarating, the electric air becoming quite literal as arcs danced between the strings.

He ended with a flourish, theatrically sinking to his knees. Breathing heavily, his voice and instrument fell silent. "Thank you! Thank you! I'll be here all night!" He grinned presumptuously, sharp teeth gleaming in the firelight.

At the end of the song many in the crowd cheered, whistled and clapped. As for Meeta she simply nodded in approval. He has a gift. Subsequently she stood up and walked over to the nearby tent where they serve the ale. Yet just as the Essnyri did so she bumped someone larger who was getting up...

The tall orcish woman glared down at Meeta as if she were an annoying bug. She sneered angrily, sizing her up as she growled something in orcish. It wasn't kind.

"You'll watch where you're going if you know what's good for you, little human." She said it with loathing for all she deemed weak.

Thrax, meanwhile, began a second lively number. Albeit, one requiring fewer theatrical antics. Gotta save that for last.

Initially taken aback Meeta's eyes then narrowed. While it had been accident she certainly didn't like how the Orc looked and talked down to her. It reminded Meeta of her days as a slave. Scowling she fired back.

"I'll go where I please fang-face!"

Placing both hands on her hips she added. "Unless you made to make something of it how about you piss off."

Next to Thrax a middle aged dwarf with blond hair and beard nudged him before pointing at the Orc and Meeta.

"Looks like we're going to have extra entertainment."

Thrax grinned, upping the tempo to make it a fight song. This was going to be fun. Maybe he should challenge the winner.

"Fight!" someone called out, making the orc woman smile fearsomely.

"What a fantastic idea." The orc sneered and threw a heavy punch. She was quick for an orc and just as strong as one would expect.

She managed to block the punch with both hands barely in time but the sudden blow knocked Meeta several meters. The Essnyri winced from the pain but became excited as well. She cast aside the traveler's cloak, revealing her fighting gear that was underneath before getting into a defensive stance. Cheers and shouts rang out in the crowd with people already taking bets.

Laughing at how the Gnoll bard started playing a fight song his new dwarf associate commented.

"That orc is the chieftain's daughter and she loves to fight."

"My kind of women!" Thrax paused his singing to holler.

The orc took an aggressive stance that showed she was taking the challenge more seriously. With a gleam in her eyes that the bard knew well, she came at Meeta with quick jab designed more to test her opponent's reflexes than do any real damage.

At the jab Meeta ducks down evading it before jabbing back twice toward the orc's stomach.

Laughing some more the small merchant slapped his knee then declare.

"I bet ten sliver coins that the human doesn't last more than a few minutes against her."

The orc wasn't as fast as Meeta, but she was just as capable of dodging light jabs. She had an advantage in reach, though. So now that the shorter human was close enough for jabs, the orc sent a potentially devastating haymaker towards her head.

Thrax's eyes carefully observed the fight, nodding to himself. "I'll take that action," he said between verses with a smirk.

Meeta managed to get her head away from the haymaker. Yet the punch struck her in the left arm. The human cried out as if a hammer landed. Immediately she retaliated with a spinning kick toward the back of the orc's legs in hopes of knocking her rival down.

"How much money and how long the human lasts?" The dwarf asked Thrax.

"Twenty silver for... let's say two minutes. Never underestimate the smaller fighter." It was more of a wish than any kind of intuition on his part to see the smaller win. He certainly usually lost against other Gnolls.

The orc fell to her knees. She quickly recovered and fell the rest of the way so that she could roll to the side and avoid the follow-up strike. She immediately moved to pop back up to her feet...

With a battle cry Meeta charged after the orc. She leaped and attempted to kick her in the back with both feet.

The dwarf nodded, agreeing to the bet. "I'm Ulric Renson by the way. What's your name bard?"

The orc staggered forward, her muscular bulk absorbing enough the impact to keep her on her feet. She regained her footing and rounded on her with a roar. She lowered her stance and charged, arms bracing for a grappling maneuver.


Thrax smirked at the dwarf, clearly with good cheer.

Meeta had managed to roll up. Yet just as she did the orc came at her. Arms locked she was pushed back several meters before stopped. She grappled with the orc before attempting to slam her knee repeatedly toward the orc's face.

Ulfric shook his head, utterly amused at the gnoll's antics.

The orc hadn't expected Meeta to remain standing after her charge. So, she wasn't prepared for the attack; there was a satisfying crunch as the knee connected with her nose. A more fragile race would quite possibly have died from a sliver of bone in the brain. The orc merely stumbled back in a daze, blindly striking at anything that moved.

Thrax booed. "C'mon, you sexy beast! You have to last until two minutes or I don't win anything!"

Taking a moment to catch her breath Meeta briefly considered what to do next as the orc lashed out blindly. Then she charged and attempted kick the orc in the head with both feet.

The orc's jaw went sideways, teeth flying as she spun. She crashed to the ground in a heap. The crowd was stunned for a long moment by the unexpected victory before breaking out into a cheer.

"Well, well, well," Thrax said smugly, holding out a large hand for the coins, "Looks like bigger isn't always better."

Forcing herself up Meeta then raised her hands in victory. However, short it was the fight had actually turned out to be rather fun despite the circumstances. Looking over to the cheering crowd she declared.

"If fangs ever wants a rematch she'll know where to find me."

Deciding that she wasn't thirsty Meeta sat down just as an utterly shocked Ulric handed Thrax the coins as agreed upon. The Essnyri snorted and said.

"Didn't think I had someone betting on me to win."

The gnoll filled his coin pouch with a satisfied grin before looking at Meeta.

"I know talent when I see it." He was bluffing, but unless she was good at reading beast races, she probably couldn't tell. "You didn't disappoint."

Meeta shrugged her shoulders. "I have plenty of years in the fight pits in my homeland. Though admittedly if I didn't daze her with those knees she probably would've gotten me."

Ulric nodded in agreement. "True and the chieftain's daughter might challenge you again some-point this week when she recovers. So you might want to be ready for that."

Subsequently the Essnyri turned her full attention to the Gnoll.

"You from Adela?"

"That depends on whether you think of the Serhan gnoll clanfolk as Adelan. Heck, most Adelans think we're one savage horde out to eat their children."

"I mean, some of us did, but that practice died out generations ago. My clan..." He grew momentarily distant, but his spirits quickly returned. "... never ate of other races."

Realizing she accidentally struck a nerve Meeta grimace.

"Well I never met any of Gnoll until now. To be honest I didn't expect one to be bard yet you proved me wrong."

He laughed in the telltale hyena-like manner of his people.

"Well, I am one of a kind." He grinned merrily. "But I honestly didn't expect to be a bard either. Life had other plans."

"But, I love doing it more than anything." There was a sense of joy and pride in the way he talked about it. Yet, at the same time, a tinge of loss and loneliness.

She nodded respecting his passion for the path he now followed. Taking a moment to herself Meeta confessed.

"Fighting like I just did minutes ago makes me feel alive. As a child I never expected I would become the woman I am now yet it happened all the same."

"You're no stranger to battle. A gnoll can tell."

Thrax looked her over again with a grin, but there was no lust in his eyes. At least, not for the flesh. "You know... between you, me, and all the other dangerous characters around here, we could have us a tournament."

Raising an eyebrow she paused for a moment before finding herself nodding. "Interesting. How would it be done?"

Clearing his throat Ulric the dwarf interjected.

"I can provide some financial assistance to this endeavor as long as I get a share in the profits."

"See?" He beamed. "It's already coming together."

"And yours truly can be the announcer unless I'm knocked out. Because, if we do this, I am not missing out on the action."

Meeta found herself chuckling. She was excited at the prospect.

"Count me in then. But we're going to need to find a spot for this tournament. Either make some kind of ring or find a suitable pit."

"We're in the mountains, there are potential arenas everywhere. I even saw something  on my way here that could work, just downhill." He was already working out the finishing touches in his head. If there's one thing gnolls know, it's contests of strength. That, and improvised weaponry.

"I can handle that if one of you can convince some people to sign up."

"Oh I can take care of that." Declared Ulric who quickly added. "I have quite the number of clients including Torez the local chieftain."

Meeta folded her arms across the chest in thought. Then she asked a new question.

"So what will be the combat rules? Or just have anything goes in the arena?"

Thrax tapped his chin, gazing thoughtfully at a distant thunderstorm illuminating the peaks.

"No killing or maiming. And," he said, sighing as if pained, "Surrender should be an option, I guess."

"Fair enough. The mages can heal the fighters afterwards." Meeta remarked before getting up. "See you two tomorrow." With that she took her leave.

The following day, Thrax went down to the location he had scouted. It was a large platform of stone formed when a rock outcropping broke off and rolled down the slope, only to lodge itself between the rocks in a surprisingly level position.

He stepped onto it carefully to test its stability. When it didn't tilt, he paced around the perimeter. Nothing happened. So he jumped up and down on it. Still nothing. Satisfied, he went around cleaning off the accumulated debris.

"Argh! This is taking too long!" Impatient, he took out his trusty Stormsong and played a quick ditty that ended with a mighty —

CRACK-THOOM!!!

A crack of thunder heralded a cone of force that swept the platform clean. Luckily, there was no rockslid do dampen the moment. He grinned wide, for he so loved doing that.

"Not bad, not bad at all." Meeta commented as she approached the newly established platform. Giving the spot another examination the Essnyri then turned back to the Gnoll.

"You're full of surprises Thrax."

"Bard. Warrior. Mage. Amazing idea guy. Yeah, I am pretty great." He smirked proudly with a musical flourish that made electricity dance along Stormsong's blade. Of course, the instrument did most of the magic, but she didn't need to know that.

Nor did anyone need to know how lonely he really was. He loved his life as a bard but would give it up in a heartbeat if it meant his clan could live again.

"How goes the hunt for fighters?"

She rolled her eyes with amusement at his theatrics. At his question Meeta glanced back toward the camp before replying.

"Ulric been promoting this event as soon as dawn came. He must be really smell profit with all this...heh."

Looking back to Thrax she continued.

"Several adventurers and mercenaries have already signed up. The local orc tribe is definitely coming with their warriors."

"Great! This is going to work."

He thought for a moment.

"What about that big troll? I'd pay to see him fight."

Giving an affirmative nod she explained.

"Oh yes Rogar is absolutely excited. Ulric told him and the troll ran to the woods to train for a little bit until it's time."

"Fantastic!"

Deciding that a little training was a terrific idea, he stowed Stormsong and started stretching to loosen up.

"I'd ask if you wanted to spar, but I'd rather save our fight for the crowd."

Also, he wasn't a seasoned fighter. He knew he might not even last long enough to ever face her in the ring. It would be fun to find out, though."

"We've see what happens. Good luck Thrax."

Meeta answered before heading out to do her own training session.

The tournament was quickly upon them. The caravan gathered around the ring, an excited murmur filling the air. All fell silent as Thrax took center stage with a rousing chord.

"Ladies and not-so-gentle men, blackguards and rapscallions, the time you've been waiting for is here!" He reveled in the attention, his dynamic voice carrying over the throng so that none could ignore him. "Now, for your enjoyment and gambling pleasure, we have selected seventeen fighters — it's okay, two are competing together because goblins are tiny — to compete for a glorious cash prize!"

"First up! We have quite the opening act lined up for you. In this corner..." — He motioned to a dark-haired man with ruddy skin climbing onto the platform, his back emblazoned with a lion tattoo— "... stands one of the Adelan coast's greatest swordsmen. His visage is even more frightening than mine. The Black Lion himself, Gedran Dane!!"

The crowd roared as Thrax continued. "And in this corner... You've seen what she can do, and I think I speak for all of us when I say we can't wait to see more! Give it up for the Essyrni Tigress, Meeta Nefertari!!

Meeta fired several jabs before bouncing back and forth from her corner. Her newest opponent seemed quite capable. This should be interesting. All around them the crowd shouted their demand for combat while others placed their bets. Keeping both eyes on Gedran she cracked her knuckles in anticipation.

Then a gong was rung and Meeta came out of her corner in a fighting stance, circling the Adelan warrior.

As that happened from among the audience a massive and gray bearded orc looked on with several of his kin. Turning to his daughter right beside him commented.

"So that the human who bested you Ghorza. I admit it does seems like she has a fighting spirit."

The female orc humbled by Meeta grimaced with simmering fury. "I underestimated her. It won't happen a second time."

Dane bounced in place like an experienced pugilist, watching his opponent for an opening. He decided to make the first move and lunged forward with a lightning-quick jab.

Meeta staggered back as the punch struck her in the left side of the face. Immediately she fired back with an elbow aimed toward Dane's jaw.

The orcish chieftain bellowed out loud in laughter.

"Good, good my daughter. Savor and focus that rage you've need it in this tournament."

As for Ulric he sat beside Thrax drinking from wineskin. Sighing with pleasure the dwarf said to himself.

"We're going to make so much coin from this."

"Hells yeah we are." The young gnoll grinned eagerly as he lit up some pipe weed, taking in a puff from a pipe made from a raven's skull.

The blow grazed Dane as he dodged to the side. He paid her back by aiming an uppercut at the Essyrni's side.

Meeta dodged by rolling out of the way. Getting up she circled Dane again before charging again before making a feint with the left fist but instead fired a right hook aimed at her opponent's jaw.

The crowd cheered as the blow connected, but he leaned back at the last moment, diminishing the impact. He staggered back and spit out a small amount of blood before grinning at her. "First blood goes to you, lass."

He charged in with a one-two punch followed by a kick to her calf. This time, he was faster.

Meanwhile, Thrax took a puff and looked at the dwarf. "Our girl has her work cut out for her with this one."

Blocking the first punch Meeta grunted when struck in the gut by the second. She fell due to the kick but rolled away again.

"You're not so bad yourself." The Essnyri admitted with her fists raised again. Springing forward Meeta fired a three punch combo toward Dane's upper body.

Ulric nodded in agreement. "It can go either way."

Dane blocked two of the three, with the third knocking some of the air out of his lungs. He recovered quickly, returning with a knee to her gut.

The Essnyri gasped in pain before retaliating with an attempted headbutt to Dane's face.

Dane danced back just in time. He laughed and attempted to land a right-hook on her jaw.

Meeta blocked the punch with both hand before throwing a kick aiming in-between Dane's legs.

Dane had not expected such a dishonorable tactic. His cod piece may have protected his ability to procreate, but he was still left stumbling back with his hands cupping his jewels. He would be easy pickings now.

The human males in the crowd booed. Thrax and various other "uncultured" non-humans, however, were laughing hysterically.

Showing no hesitation Meeta went on the offensive. She fired a four punch combo at Dane before jumping with a spinning kick aimed for his head.

The crowd roared as Dane went spinning to the ground. The swordsman didn't move.

Thrax hopped onto the platform and raised his voice. "Oh!  Dane is down for the count! Ten! Nine! Will he recover, or did the fight end with that brutal combo?! Eight! Seven! Six! I don't know what's going to hurt longer, his pride or his nuts! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Aaand he's out!"

He raised Meeta's arm to the sky, grinning. "Winner, Nefertari!"

Grinning at her victory Meeta nodded at Thrax. Subsequently she made her way out of the platform to rest for the time being.

When the cheers finally died down, Thrax began again. He announced the next few fights with bombastic aplomb, filling the crowd with energy. He was born to be the center of attention.

"And now for the final bout of the preliminaries! I guarantee this one will tittilate, thrill, and amuse!  Never will you have seen such a bout!"

Might be overselling a little. Oh well!

"In this corner, dwarfing the competition--no offense to the actual dwarves--and frightening the children... he's powerful, he's tough, he probably has eaten at least one person, ROGAR THE MAULER!!"

When the enormous troll had taken his position, Thrax's voice lowered dramatically.

"And in this corner, we have a fighter who you already know quite well." He slowly stepped towards the corner, a hushed silence falling over the crowd. He wouldn't. Would he? "He's tall, he's rude, he's loud, he's handsome--if you're into that sort of thing--master of storms, master of ceremonies... ME!"

He turned to face Rogar, popping his neck. With a huge grin, he said, "Let's fight."

Rogar smirked savagely as he crackled his knuckles. "Yes. Give me a challenge I might not eat you when this is over." At the signal of the gong the troll roared he charged at Thrax, intending to grab him in a bear-hug.

Watching from her spot Meeta wiped the sweat from her brow with a towel. She couldn't help but think.

Let's see how this goes.

Thrax dropped to all fours and dashed around to the side like a predator trying to corner his prey. He quickly hopped back up to an upright position and rushed in. With a wild cackle he leaped for the back of his larger opponent.

Grunting in shock as Thrax latched onto him the troll tried to shake the bard off. Several in the crowd laughed watching the troll to get his smaller opponent off. At one he tried to grab him with his left hand.

For her part Meeta sat back and watched. To be perfectly honest she was actually curious about Thrax's fighting style.

He is fast and clever. Using Rogar's own size against him. But let's see how long that lasts.

Thrax moved about like an ape in a tree, keeping one step ahead of Rogar's hands. He attempted to get a sleeper hold and just about locked his arms around the troll's neck when Rogar caught hold of his trouser leg.

"Oh, bugger..."

Without hesitation Rogar proceeded to lift Thrax into the air before slamming him down causing a massive thud. All with one hand. Then the troll attempted slam Thrax on the opposite side.

Thrax felt his bones creak from the impact. He thanked The Storm that gnolls were tougher than humans because otherwise he would have broken several bones. Instead, he was merely dazed.

Realizing his life depended on it, he twisted around and used his powerful jaws to bite down on the troll's arm. He jerked his neck, tearing at Rogar's thick hide.

Howling in newfound pain Rogar tried to shake his opponent off of him while everyone watched with some laughing at the troll's misfortune.

As Meeta shrugged her shoulders. She had just earlier had fought dirty so the former gladiator saw merit in Thax's tactic. When fighting someone stronger you don't play around or else suffer for it.

Thrax let go and hit the ground rolling. He pushed himself up unsteadily, dizzy from the rough landing. He spat out a glob of bloody saliva and wiped his mouth with his sleeve before grinning at Rogar. The crazy gnoll was enjoying himself.

"Your move, big guy. Make it count."

The bite marks wrought by Thrax were evident to Rogar. Snarling at the challenge the troll suddenly slammed his right then left feet, shaking the very platform. With that he charged before leaping with both fists raised over his head, preparing hammer them upon his smug opponent.

Thrax's apparent disorientation vanished as he leaped out of the way. He had been standing on the weakest point of that edge of the platform, hoping the troll would leap. While he didn't know if the edge would crumble, it was worth the gamble.

The mighty fists swiftly came down. The edge shattered upon impact and Rogar with grunt of shock fell off the platform.

"And Rogar's out of the ring!" Thrax announced, a little winded, "Winner, Thraxion Swordbreaker!"

He bowed, absorbing the attention, whether it be applause or boos. His grin was as much for the victory as it was for the bet he had placed on himself. This would be enough coin to last a while. 

The troll with his jaw dropped due to being turned completely shocked at what happened. Gritting his teeth he got up and roared and was about to charge back inside when a blue magic spell struck him. Groaning and eyes closing Rogar fell asleep and dropped sideways with a massive thud.

Several orcs rushed over and with difficulty dragged him away. As for Meeta who had watched the whole thing remarked to herself.

"This is definitely a trickster."

The second round of bouts began with a rousing battle between the minotaur Zog Stormhoof and a tag team of dwarves Fergus and Angus Broadaxe. The minotaur won narrowly, securing his spot in the semifinals.

Then came the hotly anticipated rematch between Meeta and Ghorza. Thrax wound up the crowd and called them up into the ring. "Fight!"

Ghorza sneered. "You won't be so lucky this time, human."

"Bring it on fang face!" Meeta fired back in her combat stance. Circling for a few moments she attempted a few jabs to test the orc's reaction.

Ghorza's reactions were better now that she wasn't underestimating the ex-gladiator. She sidestepped a blow, countering with a quick strike at her ribs.

Gasping Meeta staggered back before firing a right uppercut toward the orc's jaw.

Ghorza staggered back from the strike. Grinning, she wiped the blood from her lips. "You're fast, I'll give you that."

"But are you strong?" She smirked aggressively and charged it with a series of powerful strikes, attempting to use overwhelming force.

Evading the first three punches Meeta attempted a counter but suddenly she was knee in the gut. Grunting she was swiftly hit in the right eye. Feeling like a hammer just hit her Meeta flew back meters away on the platform. Wincing she struggled to get up.

Ghorza grinned fiercely. She was once again certain of her physical superiority. Walking over to where Meeta lay, she couldn't help but gloat. "You should have stayed in Essyrn, human. You're much better suited to being someone's servant."

Incensed at what she just heard Meeta suddenly spin both legs to the back of the orc's feet to knock her down. Once that happened she jumped on Ghorza and they began to roll around as Meeta wrestled with her.

Ghorza attempted to lock her arms around Meeta's neck for a sleeper hold. Though from the bloodlust in her eyes, it might not end there.

Meeta countered by wrapping her arms with Ghorza's before that could happen. She glared defiantly back at the orc. Soon they were both up on their feet wrestling back and forth.

Ghorza put her superior strength to work, trying to force Meeta toward the edge of the stone platform. There was a copious amount of cheering for both of them, especially from the men.

Alarmed at their direction Meeta struggled in vain to stop it but they came closer and closer to the edge. Desperately she slammed her left knee repeatedly into Ghorza's gut to throw off her focus before redirecting them back to the center of the platform. Yet as they did so Meeta's arms finally gave way as Ghorza took control.

Ghorza grinned viciously. She hoisted her opponent into the air bent back, driving the human towards the ground.

With a crash she hit the platform grunting in immense pain. Gritting her teeth Essryni rolled to her side trying to recover.

Ghorza righted herself and turned. With a war cry, he drove her foot down towards Meeta's head. The Essryni rolled just in time to avoid the strike, but the orc was already reaching down to grab her.

She cried out when gripped by the hair. Just as she was pulled up however, Meeta fired back with a sudden knee at Ghorza's face. Once freed Meeta let out her own war cry unleashing three punch, one elbow strike comb before leaping with a spinning heel kick.

Ghorza staggered back with each blow, making her off-balance when the kick hit her in the side of the head. She was sent sliding closer to the edge. Disoriented, she rolled onto her stomach and tried to push herself up.

Seeing her opponent down like that Meeta wiped the blood off her lips. She was tempted to kick the Orc right off the stage but the former slave stopped herself.

No I want to make sure everyone knows who the victor is.

Stepping back a few more feet Meeta waited for Ghorza to stand before the human charged. Leaping in the air she threw both feet in a two legged kick toward her opponent's head.

Ghorza got to her feet just in time to mutter, "Again?!" before the kick connected. Ghorza was knocked over the edge, where she collapsed in a heap.

Thrax bounded onto the platform and raised her arm. "Winner, Meeta!" The crowd cheered and whistled, very entertained.

"Did you really have to do her like that?" he asked her quietly, chuckling. 

"Well she would've broken me in two if she had her way. What I did is mercy in comparison." She whispered back before watching a number of orcs help Ghorza up. Defiantly she called out.

"If that still not enough beating for you Fang Face I'll be around. Ring or not!"

Nodding at Thrax the Essnyri made her way off the platform silently wishing him good luck.

After the next fight was over, Thrax returned to the ring to congratulate the winner. Then, he announced, "And now, the final bout of the round!"

He motioned to a pair of goblins entering the ring, to more jeers than cheers. "In this corner, challenging yours truly... Vrizz and Vrazz, The Terror Twins!"

Walking to his spot, he raised his arm. He brought it down with a chop, shouting, "Fight!"

The gnoll took a fighting stance, keeping his eyes on the pair. They had made it this far, so he couldn't afford to underestimate them simply because he had the size advantage. This would be tricky.