Rain poured down onto the bloodied soil while thunder crashed ahead. The weather was terrible as Rain's Hand reached it's peak, making it nearly impossible to go anywhere without getting water dumped onto you. Flashes of lightning lit the sky while the thunder rumbled on, as if an army on horseback was riding above. The pit below was silent. Nothing made a sound.

A male Altmer stood behind a heavy iron gate, waiting for the signal to run forward. Across from him, several meters away, was a female orc carrying a war hammer as big as a Bosmer. Gulping, he readied his magic. You can do this. You didn't get to gladiator rank for nothing. Relax. This, however, barely reassured him. At least the Orc across from him looked equally, if not more, nervous than he was.

There was a loud, grinding noise as the rusted iron gates lowered. There was silence for half a moment as the two stared at each other. The Altmer became very aware of the fact that he was breathing, the feeling of the air expanding in his lungs, the warmth in his fingertips. Suddenly he started to think that this was a very, very bad idea...

A war cry broke the silence as the Orc charged forward, the giant glass war hammer she carried clutched tightly in her hands, it's surface reflecting the lighting above. He only had an elven dagger, and this caused him to run sideways, strafing around her while sending forth a large fireball, unaffected by the pouring rain.

But the orc dodged, her amber eyes narrowing as she closed in. He sent a ball of frost at her this time, and it made contact. She froze, ice crawling all over her green skin, piercing it, making small cuts that stung and bled. But it didn't slow her down when she regained the ability to run.

She was so much faster than he, years of hard training making it easy for her to close the distance he created. Desperately throwing whatever spells he could at her, paralyzing spells, fire spells, electricity spells, anything to kill her before she killed him. Yet she dodged, and he used an invisibility spell to buy himself some time.

Running behind her as she looking wildly around to find him, he fired off a stream of lighting, making himself visible again in the process. The orc fell to the ground, twitching wildly, but still holding onto her war hammer. The elf took this as a chance to do some real damage, and he ran forward, slashing at her with his dagger. A gash on the arm, a cut across the cheek, and a stab to the stomach. Then the spell faded, and the orc got up, bloody, but in a raged frenzy.

He tried to run as she charged forward like an angry bull, but the sandy soil was slippery, and he fell. Thud, thud, thud went the orc's footsteps, as fear racked the elf's heart as he struggled to get away. Trying to use an invisibility spell again, he realized that his magicka reserves had run dry.

Thud, thud, thud...

She was getting closer, he only had a few more seconds. Scratching at the ground, he couldn't pull himself up. The few seconds he had trickled away as the orc was now on top of him. Heart pounding despite the fact that it was soon to be stopped, the last thing the Altmer saw was the bloodied sand and the shadow of the orc swinging her heavy war hammer.

Crunch. Hammer met skull, and yet another bunch of blood, bone, and flesh was mixed in with the soil.

And there was a deafening noise as the crowd cheered madly. The Orc then turned, and limped her way back the way she came as the announcer's shouts overwhelmed the cheering. When the iron gate closed behind her, she saw a pack of starving wolves that had just been released, swarming toward the body. The cheers grew louder as flesh was torn from bone. It only took a few minutes for them to finish the corpse off. Then they were herded back into their pens as a cleaning crew dumped the remains in a cart, scavenging the semi-tattered raiment of the now-dead Altmer, along with his mithril helmet and elven dagger.

Another typical day at the Arena.