An hour before sunrise, Grot stood in a cell under the arena, with Shade pacing behind him. The orc chief was sharpening his ax and double-checking his, relatively, lightweight armor. All was ready for his fight that afternoon. He'd been restless all night, but the few hours of sleep he'd gotten would be enough. Shade, on the other hand, wasn't capable of rest, at all. She resented what Grot was doing.

“I know you like Merdon, verakt,” she said, “But this is insane.”

Grot laughed. “It's not about liking the human, dear. It's about making sure the tribes focus their hatred properly. Avant has to be beaten. Merdon just happens to be a convenient catalyst.”

Shade sighed and frowned at him. “You always speak with that kind of sophistication when you're distracted.”

The chief shrugged, “Can't focus on acting like the ones outside want me to right now. I didn't become a chief by playing it safe.” Grot held up his ax and checked its sharpness before setting it aside and turning to face Shade.

“So, you got to chief by planning a public suicide?” she goaded.

Grot laughed, “Not quite.” He reached into his pocket and tossed the assassin an amulet. She eyed it curiously and then shifted that look to him. “I asked a shaman for something to detect magical disturbances,” he clarified. “Merdon left by teleporting, he'll come back that way.”

Shade sighed and put the amulet in her own pocket before asking, “You really think he'll come back?”

“Why wouldn't he?” Grot asked in return, shrugging.

“Because he's a wanted human and he knows it. I know you like him, it's obvious, but be realistic.”

“I am,” Grot asserted. “He'll be back, today. I can feel it. Our god speaks to me.”

Shade sighed again. “You really think that Oorck gives you divine inspiration on these things?”

“Of course,” Grot said confidently. “It was part of my blessing when I stood against him the longest in the yearly competitions.”

Shade shook her head and changed topics. “So, how does this amulet work?”

“Simple, it gets hot when someone in the city uses magic, you turn towards it and it gets warmer.” Easy enough.

“So when it heats up I need to look for someone using magic, and hope that's Merdon?” It sounded far fetched to the kobold. A needle in a haystack at best.

Still, it was the only thing she could do, as soon after Grot was taken away to be prepared for the fight. Shade went to the stands to wait while the dark-skinned chief was taken to a room and read the rules of engagement. A fact that annoyed him as he'd been the one to decide what, exactly, the rules were already. It was a trivial formality, but one that was observed, even by him. Once he agreed, he was given an hour of meditation and planning, a time for him to think about how he would approach his enemies, in what order. Grot didn't bother. He napped instead, choosing to have his strength and wits about him in the fight rather than trying to predict the unknown before it.

When the official returned and gave Grot his gear, the orc double-checked it for tampering before putting it on and readying himself. He was then guided out into the pit where an enormous crowd waited with bated breath to jeer him for siding with a human. Grot smirked and took it in stride, yelling at the audience in defiance. His armor was light compared to normal orc wear, but his ax was bigger and longer than any other's. He favored damage over defense.

Grot's enemies were led out next, two by two. Swords, axes, a mace, and even the rarely seen war hammer in their grips. Some were more armored, others were just as low in the defense as he was. Grot decided they would be first. When the official started the match, dropping the gates back under the arena as a flag, the lighter armored ones moved first, exactly as Grot had wanted. Evading a sword was much more predictable than a hammer, and Grot's own ax was well equipped for such things. He found it easy to deflect the strikes of those before him.

The first upset came when he knocked the sword from one orc's hands and shoulder checked him roughly to the ground. The crowd cheered, confusing Grot just long enough for the orc with the hammer to catch him in the chest and take the wind out of him. He was tossed into a nearby wall by the force of the blow and winced as he felt his ribs crack. That wasn't good. Shade was yelling in the audience, he could hear her, so Grot stood upright and readied himself despite the pain.

While he battled, Shade's amulet warmed in her pocket and she tugged it out hurriedly. First, she looked around the arena. No one was using magic to cheat in there. Frowning, she stood and turned on the spot, ignoring the eyes focusing on her as she did. Outside, in the middle of the city, was where the amulet warmed the most. She groaned in frustration and looked back. Grot had one of the other chiefs down on the ground and fending off two more. He was holding out, but not doing great. She promised to check for the human knight, but he was in the midst of danger. Swearing under her breath, the assassin vaulted over the bench she'd been sitting on and sprinted out of the arena.

Grot disarmed another chief and spun, catching the hammer-wielding orc in the side with the blunt of his weapon, causing him to buckle just enough for Grot to ram him into a wall. He used the pause to catch his breath and look at the audience again. Shade was gone. The chief smiled and threw the second orc to the ground and roared as loudly as he could, though he felt a pang of pain in his chest as he did. It wasn't a good idea to breathe so deeply with a broken rib, but the intimidation of having two of the nine on the ground and boasting was worth the risk. Grot choked up his grip on his ax and gestured for the others to come get him.

Merdon and the kobolds followed Shade at a dead run through the empty city streets. A pair of orc guards at the gates of the castle attempted to stop them, but Shade wasn't in a stopping mood. She jumped and grabbed the head of the first one, slamming him into the second one at the same time the pair realized who she was. They both pressed up against the arch they were standing under and let the group pass without further complaint. Shade had every right to see the arena after all. The other kobolds wanted to stop and look around, but they recognized how serious the current situation was. It wasn't the kind where you took your time. At least they wouldn't when it was Merdon's life on the line for something he didn't do.

Shade guided them into the castle and around a few hallways, eventually ending up back outside. The closer they got to their destination the louder it became. The cheers of hundreds of orcs, the sounds of battle. Merdon didn't need a guide so much as they got close and picked up his pace, going nearly side by side with the black-scaled kobold. They came out into the stands as the crowd reacted with sympathy to something in the pit below. Shade ran to the edge and looked down at the fight with a frown, and the others joined her curiously.

Grot was against a wall and fending off three opponents at once while two laid groaning on the ground already. As bad as it seemed, it was worse than that. Four more orcs were in the middle of the arena, armed and fully rested, ready to fight if Grot defeated the three on top of him already. The crowd seemed more interested in Grot losing than winning, as their feet stamped on the hard stone floors, heavy benches creaking under their weight, and their mouths cheering for blood. Merdon thought for a moment about how utterly archaic this all was, before reminding himself the orcs were quite stuck in their ways, stubborn to a fault. What needed doing at that moment wasn't chastisement. He needed to assist Grot in some way.

The knight stepped back and ran around the rim of the arena to where Grot was fighting, his armor and size getting a lot of attention as he moved. A human among orcs at a combat trial involving a human. It wasn't hard for anyone to put two and two together. Thankfully, his plan was working, as the ones inside the arena started to notice him as well.

“Grot!” he shouted down. “What in blazes are you doing?”

The three orcs against Grot looked up at the human, giving the dark-skinned chief the opportunity to push them away and make some breathing room for himself. “Fighting,” he called back, “for you, idiot.”

“I can see that,” Merdon replied. “Shade filled me in. What is this half baked idea about? It should be me in there if anything.”

Grot stopped and laughed. “You barely fought me, knight. These nine would shred you like a chicken breast.”

One of the combatants looked up and said, “So the hume coward arrives in time to see his plan die.”

“Not my plan,” Merdon mumbled. “But I can work with it.” He turned to face his half of the crowd and shouted, “I am not the one that killed your chiefs!” It was pretty easy to get their attention like that, and several of them stood up, just knowing he was the one that was accused was enough for them. “Avant sent their assassins to your lands, an attack I came to warn them about!”

Shade swore under her breath and added her voice to his, “This is truth! I was attacked by the Eyes of Ethral here in our own city.” The crowds paused and looked at the black kobold. Her status was known to them, and Grot was fighting in defense of the human, but to lie about the Eyes of Ethral of all things was unthinkable.

While they yelled, Grot fought. His heavy ax had been lost in an early scuffle and laid across the arena. In his hands was a thick sword, used by one of the now unconscious chiefs. As the two argued with the crowd on his behalf above him, Grot swung wide with his sword, the arc long enough to hit all three of his opponents but only catching the first one in the arm. He yelled and pulled away, but Grot wasn't going to let a wounded enemy go so they could return and bite him in the back. He charged towards him and knocked him to the ground, delivering a swift stomp to hopefully break something and put him out of commission. The others that had been staying back were now joining the fight. He'd traded one enemy for four more.

“The Eyes are after me because I'm fighting for the freedom of kobolds,” Merdon told the crowd. “Avant has worked for centuries to keep them oppressed, and I've learned recently that the Eyes have targeted humans in the past to achieve this goal. The government of Avant threatens the well-being of everyone.”

Shade knew the orcs wouldn't much care about how humans killed each other, so she added, “We came to convince the chiefs to go to war with Avant, to bring the human oppressors to their knees!” The crowd roared with approval at that, making one of the orcs in the pit grimace.

“Enough!” the orc shouted, hurling an ax at the back of Merdon's head.

The human barely half turned when the ax was intercepted by a ball of fire that knocked it off course and virtually disintegrated the handle while the head fell to the ground in the arena. Both the crowd and the fighters in the pit stood in awe of the red kobold who stood on the railing next to Shade, her hand alight with magic flames, her eyes glaring down at the orc that had thrown the ax.

“If you're going to interact with the audience,” she warned, “be ready for the audience to interact back.” To make her point more clearly, Red held up her other claw and caused it to spark with electricity.

Merdon sighed with relief and smiled at Red. “Thanks.”

Red rolled her eyes and glanced at him, “Do your talking thing, Whisperer. I'll make sure they don't interfere again.” As her eyes looked back down, Red saw the now weaponless chief swallow hard. It brought a smile to her face.

Grot took advantage of his defenselessness, rushing forward and swinging his sword broadside, slamming the blunt end of the weapon into the other chief's chest. He groaned and was tossed back a few feet, but not out. Another chief roared and swung, but Grot moved backward and parried, as best one could with a such a large weapon, and counterattacked. The second chief groaned with Grot's pommel upside his head. A little footwork and the dark-skinned chief had his opponent on the ground with the other four. Five were left standing, but Grot was breathing hard. If they could attack him all at once, it was over, but one of them was winded as he was.

“Your enemies are in Avant,” Merdon shouted at the crowd. “Not here in this arena. This is what they wanted you to do. They will come, they will strike from the shadows, they will provoke you until you have no choice but to fight back. And when you do, when you've finally grown sick of them, they will claim you as the instigators.”

Shade saw the opening and took it. “That is why we met in secret, why we were planning. This isn't a simple war, brothers. This is the end of Avant as it stands. We will fight the humans on their own terms and show them what their dishonor gets them!”

The chiefs in the pit looked very sour as the crowd turned against them, as Shade had promised them a war they didn't want. Without the support of the crowd, of their citizens, they wouldn't be chiefs much longer after their fight. It was a distraction that Grot took happily, grabbing the two closest enemies and banging them into each other before hurling one into the others that were standing around and then pulling the other to the ground to wrestle for his weapon. It was an ax, not quite Grot's but better than the sword he'd been using. Grot came out on top and punched the lights out of the one he'd dragged down before throwing himself backward, creating more room, and jumping up with his new weapon in hand. Four more. His eyes darted over each of them. Two were winded, they'd been part of the group that had put him against the wall, the other two were fresh.

Grot roared at them and rushed forward only to be met with all four of them meeting his attack. He worked smarter rather than harder, going at the one on the edge of their counter charge, rushing through him, lifting the opposing chief off his feet and carrying him into a wall with a loud crack. The others skidded to a stop and turned around to find themselves down another orc. One of them gestured and they took a formation, tight-knit, hard to take all three of them at once, especially when there was only one more weakened one, but Grot would manage. As they advanced slowly, Grot hurled his ax sideways, causing them to break formation or all take a hit. When they broke, Grot rolled and snagged his own ax form the ground and then used its long handle to reach out and hook an ankle by the underside of the head. The chief looked down and was suddenly pulled onto his back.

The other two rushed to Grot, he was on the ground and needed to not be there. He rolled towards them and swung his weapon, catching the two with the backside of his ax and sweeping them. They shouted as they fell on top of each other and the crowd fell silent. Thanks to Merdon's timely arrival, the chiefs had gotten sloppy, but it was Grot who recognized how to capitalize on that. He stood and roared, kicking one of the chiefs away from the other, the one that had given orders, and stomped on his chest. The dark-skinned chief looked at the two that were recovering, starting to stand.

“Lay down,” he ordered them. “This isn't a fight you can win anymore.” The two looked at each other and stood back up. Grot snorted and reached down, taking the shorter handled ax from the one groaning under his feet.

The fight was brutally fast after that. With the last of their efforts, the final two chiefs charged Grot and found themselves disarmed and beaten in moments. The first had an ax of his own which Grot's long-handled one outranged. He twisted his weapon skillfully and snapped the handle of his opponent's weapon before he got close. Grot finished leaping at him and bashing their heads together. The second had a sword and swung with a lot of rage and power, unfortunately, he also attacked with a lack of skill and foresight. Grot stepped out of range and planted the shorter ax between them. As the sword-wielding orc moved forward, he uprooted the small ax and stumbled, giving Grot more than ample time to disarm him and haul him into the air. With a final shout, the chief slammed the final orc to the ground with sufficient bravado to daze him.

Grot raised his weapon and his fist into the air at the same time and roared victoriously, the crowd roaring alongside him. Even Shade had turned about and was joining in the noise. Merdon, bold as he was, hopped over the railing and dropped into the arena with Grot, rolling along the ground as he landed to avoid breaking anything. He stood and walked over to the chief with a grin. The orc chief returned the look and shouted at the crowd for silence. They listened.

“With the absence of a chief of chiefs and the other chiefs currently indisposed, I pronounce the human knight Merdon is cleared of charges!” Grot shouted at them. The crowd muttered a little but didn't argue. Grot seemed to like that response. “Further, I hear by announce my own candidacy for the position of the chief of chiefs. If there are any who would oppose this, or any chiefs that would fight me for the title, stand now.”

The crowd got much louder, and Shade stared with her eyes bulging out of her head. “You absolute idiot,” she said, her normal volume not carrying over the crowd.

Sarel frowned and asked, “What's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Shade said, though she certainly sounded upset. “This was his plan. No one was going to argue against him for that spot except for the other chiefs, and if they're unconscious on the ground they can't. He just self-electedh to the highest position in the land, knowing no one here would fight him after he won.” She was mad that he gambled his life, and Merdon's, on that.

As she predicted, no one in the crowd argued. They talked among themselves, but not a soul stepped forward to fight Grot's candidacy. As the orc led Merdon out of the pit through the under halls, he laughed and slapped the human's back. “Guess you're getting your rebellion after all,” he said with a smirk.

“Is that why you did this?” Merdon asked. “To usurp some power?”

Grot looked shocked. “I'm wounded, Merdon, truly. The perks of being in power come with heavy responsibilities. This little gambit of mine wasn't just for my sake. You needed the chief of chiefs to agree with you, and I'm sure one of those unconscious simpletons would have been first in line for the job, and first in line to send you back to Avant.”

“So now you're in charge, and you'll do things the way I wanted?” the human asked.

Grot nodded. “We'll do things your way, human. Subterfuge and all that dishonorable stuff. I don't like it, but you had the old chief of chiefs on your side, and that stubborn bull would have sooner cut off his own ears than listen to a human. You must have said something true to make him take heed.”

Merdon sighed. “All right, we've got to fill you in on the rest of the plan then.”

Grot nodded, but he stopped as they came to a waiting area under the arena. “That's gonna have to wait a while though,” he said in a strained tone as he sat down. The orc chief unlatched his armor and let it fall to the floor, causing Merdon to recoil.

Grot's chest had a nasty looking spot that the human recognized as a collapsed lung. The fact he'd finished the fight with such a wound was incredible. In fact, it was only then that Merdon realized why Grot had seemed so out of breath as he fought. He must have sustained the injury early on. The knight stepped back and asked how to reach the upper layers. Grot frowned and gave him some directions and Merdon sprinted off. An orc shaman may have helped, but Merdon knew someone better.