Kruger stood on the coliseums fighting floor, across from him stood his opponent a drow elf wielding two swords. This would be his first fight in several years. Ironically it would also be the first mortal he had fought in even longer. His refusal to throw several fights with incompetent fighters had enraged the men who had been betting on Kruger losing.

The result had landed him on the arena on nights when only the cursed or demonic would fight. This led to a loss of his patronage by those who assumed he was a were-creature, or perhaps a vamp. In the end, some fearful denizens set fire to his shop, and the HKG forge became a pile of charred lumber.

Running his new shop would be more costly. In order to assure he would have the patronage he needed he would have to advertise. What better way to advertise than to showcase his weapons in action. He had put these nights on his books as D&D meetings, or display and demonstration. This was necessary so that he could funnel his winnings back into the shop and avoid charges of co-mingling of funds.

A loud roar from the crowd brought him back to himself. The announcer had just introduced the elf across from him. Kruger had missed the name, but it really mattered little at the moment. A glance to the roaring crowd made him wonder if Lady Belial had gotten his message in time. Part of him hoped she had, and planned to attend, but part of him was afraid she would come. A man should be wary of how much he revealed to a woman as powerful, and shrewd as he believed her to be. The inclusion in the letter he had sent was an impulse; regardless of the wisdom, or lack thereof it was done. Kruger was glad he would have no idea where she sat, or even what she looked like.

There was a scattering of applause at his introduction, it was all fairly polite. The drow across from him was heavily favored this night. New arrivals were always underdogs, but in this case it seemed Kruger had drawn a well liked veteran. Kruger thought the crowd must be of the nastier sort as drow were generally cruel fighters. Kruger unfolded a table, laying a bundle atop it. He untied a drawstring and rolled it open. A plethora of weapons were secreted there in pockets. Kruger pulled off his shirt, and took from the table a pair of single hand war hammers.

They were light, made from the sample metal Kitty's messenger had sent to him. He had made a hasty construction of the pair, they were not overly ornate, certainly something any adventuring cleric would be happy to have at hand. The shaft and head were of a single piece, the skill needed to make a hammer out of a single piece rather than two welded together would be evident to those who used war hammers. He supposed that meant mostly dwarves. One but of the head was disc three inches in diameter. The other ended in a plate mail penetrating point. This would be a good testing ground for the future of his craftsmanship. He didn't doubt that Kitty had sent a great sample. The merchant she purchased from would only send his best for a sample. To send lower quality would be financial suicide, unless the merchant thought the smith too incompetent to notice. Kruger was far from incompetent, but he never ruled out the "oops" factor. Leather wrapped padding was on the handles, this should help protect his hands from the jarring blows the hammers would receive.

The wrappings made the plainly made hammers look even more ordinary. Kruger still hadn't come across a decent leather worker. They would function, but if he were to try to sell them better wrappings would increase their look and the value of the aesthetic; especially since he had not used any enhancements on the pair.

Kruger had chosen for lightness over power. Drow were incredibly nimble of foot, and had fast hands. They were so fast going from offense do defense the change was nearly invisible. Kruger turned to face the drow. He knelt, and cleared his mind; long gone were the days when he would close his eyes to achieve the emptiness he needed. In moments he pushed thoughts of Bel from BHO out of his mind; quickly following that were doubts of self or equipment. All thought was pushed aside, when the elf move, the only thing left was action.

Kruger met the elf halfway across the arena.

Kruger defended countering every blow with a block, he needed to know his opponents skill level. The elf was lean; lithe Kruger could tell he had spent many years training and more in the field. Drow rarely had a weak side, this one was no exception. Kruger loved fighting drow, loved watching them work as well offensive strikes were always pristine, defensive counters precise. If this elf had a flaw it would be in expectations.

Kruger was fairly certain the elf had to this point fought and won all head to head battles. Kruger started defensive to bolster the drow; too much confidence might just confuse him when Kruger changed his tactics. The rhythm of their conflict never faltered, it was as though the elf had found what he deemed would wear Kruger down. Given enough time that would be the case, but Kruger wasn't about to let that happen. He had been backing toward the walls long enough. If the drow thought he had the victory the tables were about to turn.

Dire bat's shriek met rolling thunder, cleaving the stone met standing pillars, tumbling boulders met nothing. Kruger wasn't where he was supposed to be. Muscle rippled and strained and Kruger ducked under the blade at the precise moment the blade passed before his eyes. The flash of the underhand blow made the drow instinctively block with the double downward cross; a move that committed both swords, and brought the drow's head slightly forward. Kruger delivered a kick to the elf's face. It wasn't hard, just enough knock him back and allow Kruger be the aggressor.

Humming bird kiss changed to falcon feint, kingfishers dive became scorpion strike. Kruger used all of the hammers to his advantage. He would catch the drow's swords in the curve between haft and armor piercing point and power the elf's swords out of position. Faster and faster he moved them, a slow smile going broad. His grandfather had told him once that the world is made up of music; everything had a beat, and rhythm. The older he got the more of these rhythms he could hear.

The drow's eyes became saucers as Kruger began to sing the song that he was pounding out on the other's swords.

Rosie's hair is fair and fine, She likes to stare at my behind. She likes men fortune and of fame, And they all know Rosie's name.

Oh Rosie from Rhy"Din plain has more men than should be sane. She had them over for a feast asked them all to kill the beast.

The words grew coarser as the song went on, each lover trying his hand and dying. Rosie lamented what she would miss most about each as they passed. The eventual end had her taking the beast as her lover since he was the last on the plain.

It had been second nature to Kruger to sing as he worked, he had not expected it to mean much, but with the first passing of the chorus voices joined his. By the second passing of the chorus it seemed the whole of the coliseum had taken up the tune leaving him to pound out the beat against his foe.



The frightened drow had never seen blows rain so quickly. He had heard growing up about a legendary drow, but believed that drow to be a means to encourage youngsters in training. The Crowd had turned on him, so Marzai did the only thing he thought would help him.

A globe of darkness encompassed the field. Now he would see how well this man could fight in the dark. A pain in chest and a short trip through the air were the last things he remembered.



As the globe enfolded him Kruger launched one of the hammers toward the drow. A drow needed his ears to fight in the dark the song reverberating through the air would serve to mask the flight of the hammer. Kruger never saw the hammer hit, but he heard it. He made his way out of the globe and looked at the unconscious body of Marzai.

Kruger was announced as the winner, as the drow began to wake. Kruger put a helping hand out to him. The drow looked at the hand and spit in it. Kruger curled the hand into a fist and punched the drow, sending him back to the blackness.

"The deeds of your own mouth do convict you?, he muttered angrily. A sigh as he now believed he had inadvertently acquired another enemy. He picked up his thrown hammer and raised both over his head. The crowd roared loudly and broke into another chorus from Rosie of the Rhy"Din plains.

Kruger looked into the stands one last time wondering if she had come. He supposed he would never know.

Jason waited for Kruger to return. He would come, if only to be sure Jason had eaten, and had a comfortable bed. Sometimes Kruger would tell him a tale, Jason's favorites were about the Argonauts. The last had been just before he had left for the evenings match.

The leader of the Argonauts was also named Jason; that was likely why Kruger told those tales. Jason led men who were much older than he was. Jason wondered why men so much older would follow someone so young. He asked Kruger, he enjoyed asking the smith things for he knew Kruger would answer, even if the answer were that he didn't know. Kruger had told him that Jason had obviously impressed the Argonauts with his wisdom, and intelligence; and that was why Jason should learn as much as possible.

Among Jason's followers was Hercules; Kruger said he was the worlds strongest man. Hercules had a good mind too, but even he followed Jason. When he asked Kruger about this he grew quiet for a time, Jason could tell he was trying to puzzle out the answer as well.

"Some men, even though their back is strong and their mind sharp, consider themselves to be a weapon. A weapon on its own does nothing, but with a hand on the hilt, and a direction to cut, a weapon can do whatever the wielder's will is." Kruger had said in a very serious tone.

Jason nodded considering the answer, and asked, "Have you ever met Hercules?"

"No," said the burly smith followed quickly by, "Why?"

"I don't think there is any way he could be stronger than you are." Jason too looked gravely serious. He couldn't understand why the blacksmith chuckled. "Have you ever been somebody's weapon?" Jason asked him nervously.

Kruger stopped his laughter, he turned his head away from Jason, but he could see the man close his eyes. Silence reigned for several heartbeats; it was broken by Kruger's sigh. "I don't know how to answer that Jason." He said as he turned back to face him. "I am what I am."

Kruger went back to work after he spoke. Jason didn't know what he had said, but somehow the smith seemed sad. Jason sat quietly and watched as Kruger pulled some heated metal from the forge to work.

Arena fighters were at the whim of the draw, or at least that was usually the case. Kruger had discovered that sometimes a strong enough plea by an influential party could make his life difficult. Kruger had never heard of the League of Outstanding Upper-world Drow, but that had not stopped them from protesting his victory over Marzai. They reasoned that he had obviously cheated, there was no way he could be as fast as he seemed. That the drow had grown lackadaisical in his training since coming up-world had never been considered, after all he was drow.

As proof they offered that Kruger refused to relinquish the hammers he had used in the match. The fact that he had sold the hammers meant nothing; the fact that he had a writ of testing from security did nothing to change the outcome. Kruger felt it more likely that the smiths" guild in tandem with L.O.U.D. had applied enough pressure on various members of the arena hierarchy that no matter what he provided it would never be enough to stop them. The guild hall wanted his customer list, they wanted to put him out of business or force him to align with them. The fire only knew what the league wanted out of this action.

Kruger had picked up a card for the law offices of Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe somewhere in his travels. He looked to is dwindling silver supply and wondered if he would have enough to engage them. Would such a maneuver do any good" Moreover what would he hope to gain from hiring them' To not be seen as a cheater for one. He would also need to find some way to keep the silver he had picked up from the outcome of that fight. The payout had given him the money he needed to have Kitty aquire more of the metal that he needed to keep working. Had someone discovered that he had already spent his winnings" Did they hope to put him on the outs with the cartel" Gambling on yourself was only a problem if you bet on yourself to lose.

The mounting possibilities are what decided things for him. Perhaps he had enough money; if not there were other qualities he possessed that might interest them.