As Eryndor and Krog left the shop, they were swept up in a tide of excitement. A group of people were passing by, eagerly discussing the previous day's events at the colosseum. "Did you hear about Baldur the Unstoppable?" one of them exclaimed. "He slammed a giant troll to death with a single blow! The crowd went wild!"
Eryndor's curiosity was piqued. "What's all the fuss about?" he asked Krog.
Krog's eyes sparkled. "The colosseum, master! It's where warriors come to fight for gold, honor, and glory. Baldur is the current champion, but today he's facing off against a hobgoblin swordsman named Kaelith."
Eryndor's excitement grew. "Let's go see it! I've never been to a colosseum before."
The duo followed the group to the colosseum, a massive structure that dominated the town's landscape. The building was a marvel of engineering, with towering walls and a retractable roof that allowed for natural light to illuminate the arena. As they approached, the sound of cheering crowds and clashing steel grew louder.
Inside, the colosseum was a sea of colorful banners and excited spectators. Warriors of all shapes and sizes were gathered at the entrance, eager to take part in the day's battles. Eryndor and Krog made their way to the front seats, where a worker greeted them with a smile. "Welcome, noble sir! Front seats will cost you 10 silvers each."
Eryndor tossed a gold coin onto the counter. "We'll take two seats, please."
The worker's eyes widened in surprise. "Ah, thank you, sir! You must be a true connoisseur of the colosseum. I'll give you the best seats in the house."
He led them to a luxurious front seat, complete with plush cushions and a perfect view of the arena. A tray of refreshments and snacks was provided, and Eryndor dug in with gusto.
The first fight of the day began, pitting a human warrior against a giant spider. The crowd cheered as the warrior dodged the spider's venomous fangs and struck back with his sword. The spider's legs flailed wildly, but the warrior was too quick, and soon the creature lay defeated.
The next fight was between a dwarf mage and a pack of goblins. The mage summoned a blast of dark energy, sending the goblins flying across the arena. The crowd roared in approval as the mage stood victorious.
Finally, the main event arrived: Baldur the Unstoppable versus Kaelith. The ogre champion lumbered into the arena, his massive frame and blunt mace striking fear into the hearts of the spectators. Kaelith, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of agility and speed, his sword flashing in the sunlight.
The fight began, with Baldur's slow but powerful strikes contrasting with Kaelith's quick and deadly attacks. The ogre's blows were like thunderclaps, shaking the very foundations of the colosseum, but Kaelith dodged and weaved with ease.
As the battle raged on, both combatants began to tire. Baldur's body was covered in shallow wounds, and one of his eyes was punctured by Kaelith's sword. The hobgoblin, meanwhile, was exhausted from dodging the ogre's attacks.
In a final, desperate bid for victory, both warriors prepared for a last strike. Baldur gripped his mace with both hands, ready to bring it down like a boulder. Kaelith, meanwhile, feinted with a stab to the ogre's heart, but his true intention was to dodge the mace and strike at Baldur's head.
However, Baldur was not to be underestimated. His first attack was a feint, and as Kaelith dodged, the ogre's mace suddenly changed direction, tracking the hobgoblin's movement. The blow struck Kaelith's left shoulder with incredible force, sending him crashing to the ground.
The crowd erupted into cheers as Baldur stood victorious, his champion title intact. Eryndor and Krog were on the edge of their seats, their hearts pounding with excitement.
As they left the colosseum, Eryndor turned to Krog with a thoughtful expression. "You know, Krog, there's a valuable lesson to be learned from that fight. Sometimes, it's not just about brute strength or speed, but about strategy and cunning. Baldur may have lost an eye, but he won the fight because he outsmarted his opponent."
Krog nodded in agreement. "Yes, master. The ogre's experience and cunning were the deciding factors in his victory. It just goes to show that even in the heat of battle, a clear mind and a well-thought-out strategy can be just as important as brute strength or magical power."
While the duo made their way back to their motel, still buzzing with excitement from the colosseum events. The crowds were dispersing, and the town streets were beginning to quiet down, with only a few stragglers lingering about.
Krog, ever vigilant, suddenly sensed something out of the corner of his eye. He whispered to Eryndor, "Master, I think we're being followed."
Eryndor's blood was still pumping from the previous events, he felt a surge of adrenaline at the prospect of a potential confrontation. "Let's go to a secluded place and see who it is," he said, his voice low and even.
They made their way to the outskirts of the town, the buildings growing farther and farther apart as they walked. Finally, they stopped, turning back to face the direction they had come from.
Eryndor, his arrogance and confidence still riding high from the colosseum, shouted out, "Come out, whoever you are! We know you're following us!"
The air seemed to grow colder, and the shadows deepened, as if darkness itself was coalescing into a presence. And then, a figure emerged from the gloom.
Xaren laughed evilly as he stepped into the fading light. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly energy, and his voice was like a cold wind.
"Ah, you sure have guts to bring me to this place and confront me," Xaren said, his laughter growing louder. "Good, it makes my work easy. I have some questions I want to ask, but before that, let me show you what happens to people who underestimate me."
Xaren raised his hand, and the air around him seemed to distort and ripple, as if reality itself was bending to his will. Eryndor and Krog could feel a dark energy building up, a power that seemed to be growing in intensity by the second.