The huge rusty iron portcullis grated upwards slowly, allowing entry into the sandy arena. Here was where the humans would fight it out to prove their words and their worth. Tsk, tsk, tsk, how primitive, Constantine thought. Then again, it was probably an excuse to see some action and shed blood. Orcs were known for their love of a good fight.

"No problem," the Red Warlock spoke to himself as he went into battle mode and summoned his Energies. He was no softie, he was a great and powerful mage. Lazarus should be preparing himself for combat too, wherever he was. The Assassin should come out from another opening into the battleground.

Constantine felt a cold heaviness envelop him as soon as he stepped through into the arena. A spell!! It was a strong one too, by the feel of the momentary nauseous disorientation. Behind him the heavy grating fell back down with a thunderous clanging thud, cutting off any escape back through the opening.

"Oh-uh."

Constantine looked around and blanched. This was not good, not good at all. The other nine portcullises had slammed down too making a racket. Each falling shut as a combatant stepped through. All looked around in confusion. Why were there so many?

The ten orcs glared at each other in the spacious arena as the spectators in the stands cheered and roared their approval. Orcs? What was going on? Where was Laz?

The Red Warlock raised his hands and groaned shaking his head in disbelief. They were grey, large and calloused. He was a strong and bulky orc! That figures, the Necromancer had put an illusion spell on all of them. Now he didn't know who Lazarus was among the other nine 'orcs' and Lazarus probably didn't know which one was him either. They might accidentally kill each other. Not good. This was going to be tricky.

The noise level rose several decibels in approval. Hundreds of large hands clapped and beat against solid bodies in a show of aggression and excitement, feet stomped shaking the amphitheatre and weapons beat against shields and armour. The orcs were ready for a good show.

The Overlord stood up at his seat. He made an imposing figure. The crowd quieten to hear his words.

"Two humans have come here claiming they want to help the jaav ukon," he said. "To prove the truth and sincerity of their words, they will battle here today. Trial by combat as is our custom. May the truth be revealed! You will all be witnesses!!"

He raised a hand as a roar went up and waited for the noise to subside before he continued. "Eight warriors who want to show their prowess in battle and gain honours for their clan have also volunteered. They will be rewarded if they survive for they would have shown the humans words false. However, if they die, then they die with honour. That is all." The Overlord sat down and waved Mallarg forward.

The Necromancer stood up. "You see only our brethren down there. Do not be fooled for I have cast a spell so that all appear as orcs. Be assured that our two guests are also down in the arena, he paused and smirked. "It will be a fairer fight to prove ones skill in battle and more exciting. The humans too will have a chance on proving their words, if not for my gracious disguise, I'm afraid they would be targeted and annihilated before the real fight even begun," he said to snickers, grunts and howls of laughter as the audience agreed whole heartedly with Mallarg. The orcs obviously did not think much of the two puny humans.

"All will fight until only two are left standing. Then I will cease the illusion and we will find out who the victors are."

"Warriors are not to speak to each other! No allies! Every orc for himself!! If you break the rules, your life is forfeit!!"

The Overlord signalled and the Necromancer raised his misshapen staff into the air.

"FIGHT!!"

Immediately chaos ensured in the arena. The ten orcs in the arena shouted in challenge and started attacking each other, eager to prove their mettle. The combatants were equipped randomly with all manners of weapons.

Constantine held up the weapon in his hand, a large war hammer, not exactly his weapon of choice. Hmm, that meant he would not be able to guess which was Lazarus based on the weapon he was using. He hefted up the heavy hammer amazed that he could even lift it. The Necromancer's sorcery was powerful indeed, it not only made him look like an orc, it also gave him the strength of an orc or was it all just illusion? Whatever, he though, better get in there, find Lazarus and finish this quickly. The Assassin had only forty per cent Health. It was up to him, the awesome mighty Red Warlock, to kill all the orcs and save his friend. That is what Heroes do and he was definitely a Hero.

Constantine kept an eye out as he fought. He did not want to hurt his friend by accident, so he basically defended against those attacking him. They attacked randomly, it was fight until the last two standing. The orcs were strong, fast and deadly. He assumed all were trained in some form of combat. They all moved effortlessly displaying basic fighting instinct that came with long hours of training, or in his case, gaming reflexes of a high level avatar. There was no time for spells. The first few feints were random, targets were those who happened to be the nearest.

Soon the fight started in earnest. Sand flew in the air as orcs kicked and jumped roaring ferociously upon attacking their targets. Great swords were blocked by spears and war hammers dodged and countered with wicked spiked clubs. Grunts, howls and curses intertwined with the clanks of weapons to the loud cheers of the excited crowd.

An arrow whizzed past Constantine catching his attention immediately. Laz? He turned to face the direction where the arrow originated to see an orc slightly away from the fight. The archer was shooting at the others and hitting only half his targets. His aim was off, way off, indicating the bow was not that orc's primary weapon. No, it couldn't be Lazarus. The Assassin would never miss his target so embarrassingly like that and on so many occasions.

In the few seconds it took Constantine to arrive at that conclusion, the archer had been fried by another. A horrible burning smell filled the arena. An angry fighter had yanked out an arrow from his arm and pointed at the offending orc with his staff. Red lightning spewed from his weapon to envelop the archer killing him instantly. His body exploded showering the area in sparks. The blackened wall where the orc had stood moments ago was the only evidence he had ever existed.

"FIRST KILL!!" someone bellowed on top of his lungs.

In the arena, several orcs turned to the spell caster. Red lightning? Was it the human? Three converged on him immediately while the others continued in their own fights.

That orc could strike with red lightning too? Aiyayaya!! Lazarus might think it was him, thought Constantine. He had to finish off the fake! In fact several orcs had oriented on the spell caster thinking it was the human warlock. There was honour and fame if they survived but Mallarg had included an additional incentive to the participating orcs. There was a special bonus for whoever killed the humans.

Movement caught his peripheral vision. No time to go to the spellcaster. Instinctively, Constantine swung his war hammer in that direction and felt a satisfying crunch as solid iron crushed bone. The enemy howled in pain as his head was crushed. Black ichor slid down his face. The gatekeeper followed up with another swing and aimed it at the injured enemy's head but the warrior ducked making the deadly weapon miss. Constantine let the momentum build, swinging his body a full turn and let go his hammer. It flew into the air and hit the orc squarely in his stomach. The fighter went down with a cry. Quickly, the warlock ran to retrieve his war hammer and swung it at the fallen orc again. In a few moments, the orc's body brightened and exploded.

Constantine turned to look at the 'mage' orc but he was no more. The three orcs had finished him off and were now fighting among themselves.

The fights were free for all. At the moment only six were left. One more had disintegrated at the far end of the arena. There were no breaks, fighting was intense. Everyone wanted to survive, everyone wanted to win.

The Red Warlock was equipped with a bulky war hammer but maybe he could do magic in this form too. Thinking of an appropriate spell, he chanted the words quickly and pointed his war hammer at an incoming orc. To his delight and satisfaction, white purple lightning blasted out from the tip of his hammer to engulf the poor warrior. Ahhh!! It works, he crowed in delight to himself. He never noticed before but white and purple did look pretty. He was so ecstatic that he let the lighting continue a few more seconds than necessary. The poor orc died extra crispy.

His euphoria was cut short by sudden pain exploding on his back. Constantine dropped to a crouch and scampered out of reach. Turning, he saw a growling orc brandishing a wicked looking mace dripping with black ichor. How dare he? How DARE he attack me!

The gatekeeper yelled and charged. War hammer met mace with a thunderous clang. The impact sent strong vibrations up Constantine's arm. Without waiting, the warlock braced himself and kicked hard. The enemy orc yowled curses letting his bloody mace drop as he crumpled to the ground clutching his crotch. He rolled on from side to side with his face screwed up in pain. Hah!! Ha ha! Ha ha ha! Not so tough now, yes? Constantine spat at him in victory. Quickly he renewed his grip on his weapon and smashed the whimpering hulk until he exploded.

Meanwhile another warrior had pierced an axe wielding orc with a great sword through his black heart whilst he was busy attacking a club swinging fighter. The axe wielder and his victim died together. The combined blasts of the huge bodies were so great, even Constantine staggered back a few paces. He could feel the thick sticky ichor trickling down his stinging back. His backbone was aching where he was hit.

The three remaining warriors faced each other. Constantine studied both warily catching his breath. One waved a great sword whilst the other swung a battle axe. Both weapons were slick with fresh ichor but so was his war hammer.

As he watched, the two attacked each other as they were nearer in proximity. The great sword sliced the other's middle whilst the battle axe cut into a bulging shoulder. Without stopping, the great sword came down once again. The battle axe was pulled savagely from grey flesh for another attack. Great sword slashed a thick thigh whilst the axe caught the side of the other. Ichor sprayed into the air in wide arcs. Both fell grunting in pain to their knees.

Constantine stepped in. He flicked his huge pudgy fingers and both weapons were flung away forcefully. His two weaponless foes glared at him. They were both severely wounded, bleeding, exhausted and at his mercy. Which was Lazarus?

Unfortunately, he couldn't check Lazarus' status. That would have solved the identity problem. No, Simtrixx had conveniently disabled that feature temporarily for the fight promoting Mallarg's claim to the 'powerful' illusionary spell. No one was supposed to know who the humans were.

The Red Warlock was certain that his friend was still alive. He couldn't decide, what if he chose wrong? That would end the Assassin's quest right there and he would be to blame. Who to kill? He looked from one to the other in uncertainty. Unfortunately, both were equally ugly.

"Kill! Kill! KILL!!"

The crowd yelled, chanting. They wanted more blood. C'mon!! Kill somebody! Anybody!! They didn't really care.

"Last kill! Last kill! LAST KILL!!"

Constantine studied the two wounded orcs miserably. Which was Laz?

Suddenly a voice sounded in his head. Xico!!

"Chosen! Anya's Chosen has spoken to me."

Thank the Gods, Xico! His Familiar might be in the human realm and not physically with his Chosen but at least the falcon could still talk mentally to him.

"Which is he? Quick, tell me, Xico! Tell meee!!"

The daunting pressure from the noisy crowd was overwhelming as Constantine stood uncertainly with his war hammer raised for the killing blow. Loud chanting was accompanied with stomping feet and banging of weapons against armour.

"He is wounded and doesn't have a weapon."

The Red Warlock resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes and curse at the empty air.

"I know that," Constantine sent the vexed though to his familiar in exasperation. "Any other hints?"

"His tummy is hurting and bleeding," Xico answered promptly.

"Aiyayayayayaiii! So not helping, Xico, both their stomachs have been cut, they are both injured," the Red Warlock cried mentally in frustration. "Is he wounded on his shoulder or leg?"

"On his leg. It is verrry painful. He also says to ..."

The gatekeeper did not wait for his familiar to finish. He brought down his war hammer decisively to smash the warrior with a shoulder wound praying Xico got it right. The warrior's mouth gaped open in despair as the solid iron slammed into his head cracking his thick skull open. Hot burning sparks landed on Constantine and the wounded orc as the last combatant erupted in a fiery blaze.

The excited crowd roared in approval. They went wild. They stood up cheering, yelling and stomping. Good fight!! It was an awesome display of different fighting techniques and skill with the various weapons. There were lots of blood and gore. That was what they were here to see. Ahhhh! Alas, the game was over. Too soon, it was over too soon, some grumbled but now they will get to see who the survivors were.

Only two warriors were left. The two orcs looked warily at each other. One released his war hammer, letting it fall with a thud. The other heaved pressing a large hand onto his bleeding wounds unable to stand.

Mallarq stood up and held up his staff until the noisy crowd quieten down.

"Now shall I undo my spell for all to see the victors!"

The Necromancer waved his hands and shouted a string of complicated incantations. He threw some dried bones and shrivelled coloured herbs into the arena and sliced his palm with a sharp dagger. Holding out his hand, he let his black blood drip onto the sands below.

The air in the amphitheatre shimmered as the enchantment was lifted. Before their eyes, the two warrior orcs shimmered and dissolved to show the two weary puny humans. Many were seeing the humans in their true forms for the first time.

"Aaahhhh!!" some sighed in awe at the unexpected horrendous sight. The pale ones were hideous.

"Ughhh!!" others breathed in awe. They were smaller and uglier than the rumours. Oh look, their blood was red. So weird.

Kalthu closed his eyes gratefully in thanks to his Gods. The gatekeepers were alive. Sharn would not disown him after all.

"Behold! The survivors and winners of the games! They have proven the truth of their words in battle. May the humans fulfil their promise and save the jaav ukon!! The young prince is saved!!"

"Oh hey, HEY!! Wait a minute ... that was not the deal. We didn't promise ..." Constantine started saying. Before he could raise his voice in protest, he heard a painful grunt. He turned in time to see Lazarus weakly lowering his wounded body until he was laying down. He was still bleeding profusely and could hardly lift his hand to access his Inventory.

Lazarus, Health 17 per cent.

Constantine retrieved a Health potion and poured the contents down the Assassin's throat. He drank one himself. The injury on his back was really bothering him.

As Constantine recovered, he could see Lazarus' wounds beginning to close and heal. By the time he had dealt with their immediate survival, Mallarg had announced the humans' promise to save the sick prince.

The Red Warlock shook his head worriedly. The scheming Necromancer was setting them up for a fall.