Sword for a Song

[Fyndergald]

Fynder's eyes snapped open as he heard a great roar or cheer come from outside. The gnome was lying on a most uncomfortable bed in the cheapest inn in town. He lazily rolled his head to one side and the rest of his body begrudgingly followed. The gnome slid off one side of the mattress and landed on a wooden floor which looked as if it had been recently polished, but had been done rather too hastily. His small cat, Fismus was curled up at the foot of the bed. Fynder reached up onto the bed stand which was a few inches taller than him, and felt around until his hand rested on his old, tattered blue hat. He pulled it from the table and placed it on his head. The tip of the hat slowly fell over to one side. Yawning, the gnome walked over to the coat hanger and slipped his blue robe off of a hook and wrapped himself in its warmth. He stretched his arms up and then rolled up the sleeves of the robe. "It'll be time to go," he thought and reached into his pocket. A look of dismay crept onto Fynder's face as he realized he had no money with which to pay the innkeeper.

The gnome looked over to the window. He walked over to it and slid the glass upward. "I'll be back soon with your pay," Fynder directed his remark toward the innkeeper who was probably waiting for him at that same moment. Fynder called Fismus, who blinked awake and hopped down from the bed to follow him. He meant to go back and pay the innkeeper later, but he had a habit of forgetting those kinds of "petty trifles". Fynder pulled himself up onto the window sill and crawled out. He hopped down to the ground. "I bet I can get some work today," The gnome meant he was going to try to find a gig where he could sing some local favorites to earn a few coins. "Ill just try a bar, or maybe another tavern."

A little ways out of the town, Fynder noticed a gargantuan white, stone building. It looked almost like a castle to the little gnome. He thought, "That's where I’ll go then. I bet loads of people will want to hear some good music there." Fynder trotted out of the town and down a dirt road heading to where, hopefully, he would find some work.

As he neared the monumental structure, Fynder noticed many diverse people coming and going to and from the gates. Some, he observed, did not look like people at all, more like animals, and some of them quite frightening. "Oooh," Fynder thought, "I wonder what all these people are doing around here. What could be going on inside?" He moved along, up to the gated wall that surrounded the building. He stepped over the gate and found a squadron of guards watching the entrants. Fynder trotted up to the men, hoping to learn of what this place was. He inquired of one of the guards, "Excuse me sir, but I was wondering if you could tell me what this place is?" Fynder waited patiently for a response.

"Eh...what's that?" The burly guard grunted at Fynder. Then ignored him and resumed surveying the people who walked through the gate.

Fynder tugged on the man's shirt this time, to grab his attention and asked again, "Could you please tell me what..." Fynder's question was cut off as the man jerked his arm.

"What do you think you're doing!? Don't touch me, I’m a guard of the citadel! I could have you arrested. Now move on or turn around." The guard was obviously very angered about something, but Fynder did not understand why. But he obeyed the man and walked on through the gate. Once inside, he saw a load of people yelling about something, but he couldn't understand them over everyone else's shouting. Fynder walked up to the main entrance of the giant "sitadell" or whatever the guard had called it. A long set of gleaming white stairs led up to a pair of ivory double doors. The gnome hopped up each step, and arrived at the pair of doors. They looked enormous, and he was unsure if he could push them open. He pushed on them slightly, and to his surprise, they slid open with ease. He walked through them, and they slid shut behind him not quite so loud as he had expected.

There was a great rabble of people inside the building. The were congregated in small groups, and looked as if they were fighting, or betting, but he couldn't decide which. He had not walked ten paces when he was suddenly assaulted by a man in an orange robe. Fynder fell back at the sight of the man quickly coming toward him. The man held out his hand to Fynder to help him to his feet. The gnome welcomed the gesture, and grabbed the outstretched arm. After pulling him up the man said in a deep voice, "Have you come to perform?" Fynder was awestruck. How had the man known what he came for.

Fynder stated proudly, "Well, yes, I have come to put on a show or two." At this, the man smiled greatly.

"Wonderful. I must have your name, and I shall get you started as soon as possible." The man said. Fynder gave him his name and the man took his hand. He led the gnome just outside a small wooden door. "Take a seat here," The robed man gestured toward a small chair stationed near the door. "and I will be back in just a few minutes." Fynder pushed himself into the seat. He thought, "This is a comfortable chair. Maybe I should have stayed here last night." He laughed at the thought. A taller man in the same colored robe approached him. Fynder wondered why he was wearing the same robe as the first man he talked to, and also what he wanted.

The man stopped in front of him. "You are ready to begin then, sir?" The man asked.

Fynder nodded, "Oh, uhh yes. I can go ahead now." The man smiled just as the first man had. Fynder was puzzled at the similarities of the two men, but hopped down from the chair and entered into the doorway which the robed man held open for him. The man quickly said, "Go in on, the other will be in soon." Then he slammed the door shut, almost hitting Fismus, but the sly cat slid inside just as the heavy door slammed.

Fynder screamed, "Wait! What's going on here? I didn't sign up for a du-et!" The gnome pounded on the door, but there was no response. "Grr, oh well. I guess I’ll just have to give a free lesson here." Fynder whispered quietly to himself. He found that he was in a small corridor. At the opposite end, there was a doorway with no door which was filled with light. The gnome walked slowly toward the light, and Fismus followed. He came out of the tunnel and saw what was on the other side. A giant, dust-filled arena with stands circling all the way around. There were already many filled seats inside. A booming voice shattered the air. "Now introducing, Fyndergald Weismoon!" Then it said, "Our other competitor will be in soon."

A confused look took over Fynder's face for a few moments as he tried to understand what was going on. Then, suddenly he remember everything that had happened that day that led up to his arriving in that mess. He heard the guard saying "Citadel" and remembered the robed men, and the arena. The gnome had heard of this place before. He then realized that he was in a fight at the Citadel. A place where giants of men and the strongest of spellcasters went to test their skills and battle each other. The gnome was now going to face one of these opponents in a match to the death! He squawked, "Oh...Funklesprint..."

((open!))

[Gnot]

"You can't keep me trapped in here. Let me out!" Gnot held his head tightly. We will find a way out. This is all your fault" The whispers continued. There insulting murmurs raced through the goblin's head all night. It was a slight buzzing at first, but after a few days the buzzing had escalated into cries and moans of people. Gnot couldn't stop it. He couldn't control them, that was something Gnot hated. He had a passion for control. Without it, he is a wreck. The carriage was dimly lit. A small wooden table shook and rumbled as the carriage made its way to the closest city. The ringmaster had planned to make his arrival by nightfall and from there he would perform his show. Gnot gazed around, objects appeared blurry and undefined. Beads of sweat drooled down his dry green hide. The pain was excruciating. He stared into his oval mirror. The same mirror Madame Katrina once pampered herself in front of. Gnot stared at his figure. His eyes were fogged and faded. His once lime green face had become dull and pale. The goblin couldn't pick out what was wrong with him. As he stared into his own eyes, He noticed the carriage come to an abrupt halt. Jeeves, Gnot's personal slave, was at the reigns. He climbed out of the drivers seat and made his way to the side of the carriage. His blubberish, fatty hand grasped the door handle and pulled it open. Sprawling out of door was the slaves owner. Gnot fell onto the hard, cold gravel. Jeeves rushed to his aid. The ringmaster quickly slapped his hand in disapproval. "That'd be ten lashins for yah, I don't need yer help I can handle meh self" Gnot said as he unhinged his black leather whip from his side. The tall, robust abomination turned and leaned against the carriage. Gnot cocked his arm and struck the slave. The long black whip cracked swiftly upon his tough skin. A loud cry echoed through the forest. Then the second, and the third. Gnots face was fixed with determination. The cries and moans of the monster continued until Gnot had reached the seventh lash. He readied his arm but soon lowered it. His foggy red eyes rolled to the back of his slender head as he fell face first onto the ground. Shortly after the wooden wheels of the carriage churned once more. The slave was escaping. Jeeves had always yearned for freedom and now was his chance. He gave a loud "yeeee-ahh" and snapped at the horses. They began to charge forward leaving their owner behind.

The forest's heavy canopy shaded the soft earth and the constant cool breeze gave the leaves motion. Small creatures roamed and wandered throughout the branches. Gnot still sat motionless on the forest ground. After a few hours had gone by, the goblin rose from his slumber. He found himself in a dark room. The only light was the pinstriped rays coming from the barred in window. Gnot gazed around in confusion. Where was Jeeves? Where was his carriage? Where was he? All these thoughts and more paced through his already troubled mind. Gnot heard footsteps. Shortly after, a door which Gnot knew nothing of, slammed open. A skinny, weak looking man with a uniform on beckoned the creature over. Gnot rose from his seat and slouched over to the man. His lanky green arms swayed side to side.

"Throw him in the cage" The guard ordered as three men grabbed the vile creature and placed him in the ragged wooden cell. They remounted their steeds and continued on down the path. As they neared the massive white walls, another man. This one was husky and broad. His face was round and he hadn't touched a razor in days. "Nice catch. He should be a fine match for that short stuff we got earlier." The three men chuckled. The "captain" of the three continued on with the insults, "Well this one aint to tall himself." The others chimed in with chuckles. The husky guard cleared his throat and put on a more serious frown. "Alright men, I can take it from here. Thanks for the capture." The three men nodded before trotting forward into the arena. The stout guard pulled and tugged the goblin into the dark, desolate room.

"Alright, I'm guessing you don't know too much of how you got here. Well that isn't important. Here is what is." The man sighed before continuing. "You got one ticket out of here and that is winning. Your going up against a singer so your in luck. Just end his symphony of life and your outta here ok?" The guard said as he ushered the goblin around various corridors. "Who are ye to tell me what I gots to be doin to leave? I will leave dis hellish place when I feel like it, yah understand?" Gnot scowled at the man. Who was he to try and control the ringmaster. No one runs the show except Gnot. The guard stopped. He absorbed the goblins comments and soon an expression of anger shot across his chubby face. He pulled out a black nightstick. "Oh my little green fiend, I beg to differ. You will get out of here my way, or you won't get out at all." The guard said as he quickly turned and struck Gnot in his side. The blunt pain shot through his ribs and stirred his insides. A raspy, screeching howl belched from the twisted, curling lips of the goblin. Gnot kept quiet, He followed the man up to a small hallway. Instantly the goblins head was searing with pain. The voiced were laughing. They were screaming in celebration. But over what? Gnot held his head tightly, His purple top hat was shadowing his red eyes. The wooden door in front of him opened and he walked out. The stands were filled with spectators and cheers echoed throughout the massive arena. Gnot let out a devastating scream. His head was about to explode with pain. The blazing sun's rays and the mix of cheers and boos didn't help the matter much either. Ignorant drunks threw bottles of liquor at Gnot. He scowled at them in anger. Gnot tipped his top hat up and gazed at his opponent. A short little man about as tall as him. He looked old and wise. Was this the singer the guard has been raving about? Gnot curled a devious and crude smile as he reached for his whip. In one fierce motion he cracked his whip violently and removed his top hat. "Introducing Gnot Gravesnapper!" The announcer shouted. looks of disgust and horror swept across the arena like a new fashion. Gnot didn't mind. He had seen this all too often at his "shows" He flipped his top hat onto his head, covering his neon green mohawk. He fixed and brushed of his coat and bowed before his gnomish friend. Let the show begin.

[Fyndergald]

Fynder stood still and waited for his opponent to arrive. All the while, the crowd growing steadily more raucous. Fynder had resolved to fight his opponent, whoever he was. Even though the gnome had been thrown into the ring unwillingly, he was always one to make the best of every situation. Also, he was granted a chance to prove to everyone, but mostly to himself, that he still had it in him to dish it out as well as he remembered. Fynder could only hope that the enemy he would be facing was a big, dumb brute, or at least someone not very intelligent. For the gnome's power lied not in the strength of his arm, but in the capacity of his mind. And the weaker the intellect of his opponent, the better Fynder could taint and torment his mind, and allow himself to earn a victory.

The gnome looked to the seats of the stadium. Half of them were filled before he had even arrived inside the arena, but now many more had been taken, leaving only a couple of empty seats in sight. Fynder looked down from the stands back to the ground on which he stood. The arena was circular. The ground was enclosed by a 10 foot wall which seemed to have no openings except for the tunnel from which Fynder had entered, and a second tunnel directly across from him. The gnome guessed that the arena was about thirty five or forty yards across. The ground was something not unlike clay, and small chunks of it were kicked up out of place, creating a dust that could easily be kicked into the air.

He guessed that almost half an hour had passed since he entered the arena, and Fynder was beginning to wonder if an opponent would ever be selected to battle against him. He wished he had a watch to see what time it was. "I could be making some money right now..." Fynder thought, annoyed at the inconsideration of his soon-to-be enemy.

The gnome was just considering trying to leave, when he heard again, the vivacious and almost relieved sounding voice of the announcer. "Introducing our competitor....Gnot Gravesnapper!!" Every seat in the house emptied as the swarming horde of the crowd rose to their feet, roaring and screaming. Finally, they would witness the epic battle that had been promised them.

Fynder cleared his throat, and whispered "Let's see who we've got." Just as the gnome was finishing his sentence, he received his answer. Out of the tunnel, stalked a vile, green beast. The thing was clad in a dark purple coat and tattered top hat. It also wore a white puffed up shirt and a pair of loose white pants. At the creature's side hung a black whip curled into a circle. The beast held a long, three-pronged pitchfork on his right hand. The creature, Fynder decided, was probably a goblin. As the evil-looking thing moved closer to the gnome, Fynder could tell that it was not much taller than himself. Fynder thought, "Well so much for my hopes of him being big, but by the looks of it, this thing very well may still be dumb."

The goblin wore a large, devious grin. It slowly reached up to its head and removed his tattered hat, revealing its bright green colored hair, which was slicked up into a tall mohawk. "No doubt full of grease," Fynder chuckled silently to himself. Then the creature quickly reached for his whip, and in the same motion cracked it into the air once before replacing it at his side. The vile creature then placed his hat back onto his head and bowed down low, very mockingly to the little gnome. Fynder had lived many years and fought many enemies, and he knew these simple-minded tricks all too well. Although the gnome was angered by the gesture, he would not dare show his anger, for that was what the creature wanted. Instead, he acted indifferent, showing no emotion at all. The gnome returned the small bow, and a mocking grin flicked across his own face. Fynder would not wait for the goblin to make the first move. The gnome quickly got to work. He had been formulating the perfect illusion for this beast as soon as he laid his eyes upon the small monster.

"A large beast to scare him could work. Perhaps I will use that." Fynder contemplated which strategy would be most successful. "Ahh, now I have it." Fynder ignored his opponent momentarily, making a quick survey of the crowd. He soon found what he had been searching for. An enormous man stood in the crowd very near to the goblin. The giant man's head was shaved, and he wore a thick beard that covered his neck and most of his face. The man was shirtless, and his arms were crossed revealing his colossal muscles. Fynder looked back and forth between the man and the goblin a few times. Then he quickly flicked the right side of his robe over his right shoulder. Fynder closed his eyes for a brief moment and began to chant a dark hymn.

The subject of the hymn consisted of a legend of a giant, who fed on goblins. He sang the song loud enough for the goblin to easily hear him. Once Fynder had gotten his rhythm, he opened his eyes to watch the huge man in the crowd. Fynder was pleased as the illusion began to come to life. The man in the crowd that Fynder had selected, flexed his great arms and roared. He then grabbed the wall of the arena with both hands and launched himself forward into the ring in between Fynder and the goblin. The giant man slid his foot back in the dust, as a bull did when preparing to charge. Then the man lifted one arm overhead readying it to strike the little goblin dead. With a roaring cry of battle, the giant rushed forward toward the goblin, his arm poised for a strike.

Fynder could barely suppress his chuckling as he imagined what could possibly be going on inside the small head of the green goblin. The gnome gripped his staff ready to attack the goblin. His face hardened and he ran directly behind the giant man ready to knock out the goblin with a direct strike with his staff.

[Gnot]

The sun was unforgiving. Small beads of sweat trickled down his wrinkled skin. The gnome seemed motionless at the bowing gesture Gnot had made moments before. The goblin was befuddled. Usually people didn't take kindly to sarcastic moves such as that. But this little one was different, instead of blindly charging the goblin in anger , he decided to return the favor with a hearty bow. The gnomes grin matched the goblins. Spectators gazed in wide wonder. The two opponents hadn't clashed blades once, for the time being it was all just mind games. Gnot could see that the gnome thought he was like most goblins. Clumsy and enraged. Well Gnot was raised differently, he had a different mind set and knew all the games his little enemy was playing, for he had played them too. At the moment Gnot wished he could just enter combat and begin fighting. His headache was to painful to be clashing minds with the gnome. His forehead pulsed with vibes of pain, It hadn't dulled down or gotten any better since Jeeves had left him earlier that day. That son of'a bitch. Once I get outta deez walls you'd be gettin what yeh deserve. Gnot thought to himself as he imagined the lashings his slave would soon be given.

The crowd was giving their attention to the gnome now. A small melody seemed to be growing louder and louder. The goblin took in the lyrics. It seemed as if the little man was singing of a giant who devoured green skins like himself. The goblin pondered the gnomes reason for this pointless action. Mind games were already foreign to the citadel, but singing? Gnot gazed into the stands taking in the expressions on the fans faces. But as he circled the arena he stopped and peered in one direction. A man, very buff and muscular. The man was tall and in good health. He had his arms crossed so his biceps were in clear sight. A small shiver ran down Gnot's spine. After thinking for a moment the goblin had put two and two together. This was the "giant" the gnome had been speaking of. From the looks of it, Gnot was the mans target. The massive man began to charge down the steps. He leaped over the massive ten foot wall and into the sandy arena. Once he had hit the gravel, A small storm of dust surrounded the man. For a moment he became invisible. But soon Gnot noticed an outline in the dust. A moment later that same outline turned into a shadow. And that shadow very quickly turned into the "giant" and he was charging full speed at Gnot. The goblins eyes grew wide. His hands were shaking as he reached for his whip. The man readied a fist as Gnot cocked his arm back. But before he could extend his whip to lash the man, He had to quickly dive out of the way. The man was nearing him faster than he had thought and didn't have time to attack. Gnot sat on the ground for a moment. A burst of pain had shot through his skull. This was the worst his headache had even felt. Soon he felt as if something was pushing from inside his brain. The pushing grew stronger and stronger. Gnot's vision was becoming impaired. The beastly man began to charge the goblin once more. As he ran full speed at the goblin, Gnot readied his whip. This time he would strike, or at least attempt to. The man was in whips length and Gnot gave a weak, inaccurate crack. It hit the man, Gnot expected it to do no damage but to his suprise the man faded away into mid air!

Gnot was so confused. So were the fans. Did they not see this massive man? They stared at the goblin in disgust. As if he was a lunatic of some sort. The goblin disregarded their stares and continued on the battle at hand. The goblin rose from the ground. No longer having to worry about the massive beast he attempted to focus his attention on the gnome again. Of course the gnome was already charging, staff in hand at Gnot. "Can ye' gimme a damn secon'?" The goblin shouted as he closed his eyes and held his forehead. The pushing was unbelievable. But what came next was very bizarre and gruesome. Gnot’s head began to split in two! The skin departed and his skull began to crack and break. The fans stood in disgust. Some people turned their heads in disbelief. Others gazed in shock. A few front row fans threw up. From the brain of the green skin came a pair of grey, slimy hands. Drenched in blood they lathed onto the goblins head. They began tugging and pulling, trying to break free from the body of the goblin. A few fans had already fainted. Some were leaving the citadel in horror. This seemed to be a very bloody and nasty process. Gnot lost all train of thought. He could not believe something was crawling out of his head. But then he realized, This was the beast that had been causing all his aches and pains. He quickly grabbed his pitchfork and began swinging and poking towards his own head! Gnot began trying to scratch the grey hands but they only fought back. The hands seemed to be pulling harder and harder and Gnot felt something being pulled out inside of him. He swung his pitchfork at his own head until he soon felt at sharp, excruciating pain in his side. The gnome had snuck up and cheap shotted him in his side!

Gnot flew backwards onto the hot sandy gravel. A puddle of blood stained the dirt and the fans cheered for the gnomish one. The clapped and whistled as the gnome stopped the "show" from continuing. Gnot rose to his feet and grasped his whip with the other hand he switched back and forth from holding his side, to slapping at the pair of hands petruding from his open skull. He cocked his arm and attempted to violently lash the gnome before he got out of reach, or summoned another "friend".

[Fyndergald]

The gnome's illusion had been a great success. The sniveling goblin had not doubted the giant for a second. Fynder watched as the little green one just barely sidestepped the great man's charge. The goblin rolled onto the dusty ground and turned to face the giant again. As the giant circled around and reared for another charge, the little goblin readied his whip. As soon as the huge man had gotten in range, the goblin cracked his whip. The blow was extremely weak, though Fynder knew that it was all that was needed to destroy the image. As a result of the revealing strike of the whip, the giant dissipated, and Fynder watched as the goblin's face turned to utter confusion.

The gnome, still rushing toward his enemy, was only a few seconds away from striking range. He sprinted as hard as his legs could stand. He gripped his staff tightly with both hands, and pulled it back for a strike like that of a catapult. Fynder used his last step as leverage to gain more strength and momentum. Fynder was right on top of his luckless, little green foe. Seeing an opening, the gnome bore down heavily upon his enemy, crushing him in the ribs with the hard staff. The force of the crack sent the goblin hurtling toward the dirt. As the creature lied on the ground, writhing, Fynder eyed a truly gruesome sight. The top of the goblin's head was cracked and bleeding. Blood poured out from the miserable creature's head in a disgusting manner. The worst part of it however, was not the cracked skull or the profuse bleeding, but a slimy, bloody pair of hands coming directly out of the open wound. The hands writhed and pulled as if trying to escape from the body of the small goblin. The sight was almost too much for Fynder. Although he had seen much in his age, he had never seen anything near to the like of this horrifying view. Feeling sick, the gnome was forced to stop his attack momentarily.

Fynder was put in a bad position. He was quite close to the goblin, and most likely in reach of the creature's cutting whip. Fynder realized this almost too late. As the goblin collected itself and rose from the dusty arena floor, Fynder tried to move away to a safe distance. However, the goblin desperately flailed about with its whip, and as the thin, black leather came hurtling toward the gnome's face, Fynder threw up his staff in the whip's path. It quickly curled around the top of the staff and latched on. Fynder knew exactly what was coming next. As the goblin pulled back his weapon, Fynder gripped his as tightly as his hands would allow. The stronger goblin jerked the black whip, and Fynder lurched forward, hopelessly struggling to keep his grip on the weapon. As the small gnome collided with the hard, unforgiving ground, his breath was stolen from his, and his grip on the staff resultantly loosened. The staff flew from his fingers and landed on the ground between him and his enemy. Fynder would have cried out, but he had no voice to speak with. He was despondent as he gulped for air, only sucking in short, wheezing breaths. He lifted himself to his feet, and put his hands over his head, trying to open up his lungs. He knew two things. First, he needed to get away from the goblin for a little while to regain himself, and second, he really needed to get his weapon back.

Without his breath, Fynder dashed two steps forward, and slid through the dirt to quickly grab his staff. He made sure to avoid all attempts from the goblin to attack him again. With his weapon safely in his hands, Fynder backed off from his opponent. The gnome was losing his winded feeling, and he took in large, steady breaths. He faced the goblin from about twenty feet. The distance between the two secured, Fynder could once again strategize for the battle. Immediately he thought of another illusion, but disregarded the idea quickly, thinking, "No, not yet. It is too soon for another song. This creature may not be the brightest bulb in the pack, but any idiot could put the pieces of this puzzle together. I must wait a little longer." With the idea of a second illusion song tossed aside for the moment, Fynder had to think of another plan. He didn't want to go charging in again, staff blazing. He was not as strong as the goblin, and this time he wouldn't be able to sneak up on him. "Wait," Fynder thought, "Perhaps I should wait and see if that pair of hands atop his head can impair him any more. Who knows, maybe they may even win this fight for me."

He had decided on a course of action, or rather of inactivity. Fynder had decided that the best thing to do would be to stay calm for now and let things unfold. If the goblin decided to wait, then Fynder would see if the hands would cause him any more damage. If not, and the creature decided to attack, Fynder of course, would be forced to defend himself. "Either way," He thought, "I am better off then attacking him myself." Fynder didn't want to upset the goblin or anger him and cause him to attack, so he said nothing. He didn't want anything he said to be taken as mocking or threatening. Either of the two could possibly result in offensive action from the goblin. Fynder simply decided to wait, and wait he did.

[Gnot]

The gnome stood anxiously across the arena. The crowd had now returned to their seats waiting for the next attack. Gnot gazed at the gnome and bowed once again to the gnome. "Very nice trick ye' pulled there, but it wont be happinin' again. Only one of us is gettin' outta here and that one is me. Yer silly llusions' aint workin on me anymore gnome. So after that said' Lets contin..." The goblins words were silenced as he reached for his skull. The pulling was unbearable. He grabbed the hands and attempted to shove them downwards towards his brain. The fans stood in awe. They were eager to see this beast and what it would do. Gnot kneeled down and grabbed the cold hard sand. He shut his eyes and strained with all his might. The beast helped by pulling. Soon a face was visible. The creature had dark black eyes. His lips were pale and white. His teeth were horrifying. They were needle sharp and from the reaction of the fans he had a full set. The creature tugged and pulled and Gnot aided by continuing to strain. Soon the beast flung him self out of the goblins head and landed face first on the gravel in front of Gnot. Gnots eyes widened. How'd that thing live insida' me? It be almost three times de' size of me but yet he did some fine hidin'. Gnot pondered as he went to scratch his head in confusion, but remembered his skull had recently been cracked open and he would only be scratching his brain. The fans had now rose to their feet. Some stood silent waiting for the freak to make a move. Others cheered as they finally would see some more action.

The sun beamed hot dry rays down upon the citadel and the freaks pale, transparent skin glistened in the sunlight. The freak had made its first motion. It stood onto its slimy feet and turned to face its creator. Gnot gazed up at the freak and prepared for an attack. He had his whip cocked back and ready to strike. But to his surprise the creature kneeled before Gnot! A massive grin sprawled across the green skins face. Finally he had some control. He took a moment and took in the power. He felt whole again knowing he was in control of someone or something. Gnot continued to grin as he peered back up to the gnome. The small man still stood across the arena, regaining his posture. Gnot returned his attention to the freak. This thing is ugly, but ugly isn't goin' to win this battle. I need something to crush that lil' gnome. I need a giant just like he sicced on meh'.

The freak quickly nodded as if he knew what Gnot was thinking. The freak raised his arms in rage as his once slimy, pale skin was now becoming dry and rocky. The freak soon became muscular and built. His body was made of hard rock. The freak had also grown at least one foot in size. The massive creature turned and faced the gnome. He slowly began to stomp his way across the arena. The fans were all on their feet. They cheered and clapped for this new "rock man". Others booed, for they seemed to be on the gnomes side. The arena was echoing with shouts. Gnot bowed back and forth to the fans as if he was the one they cared for. The goblins head still was cracked wide open. "When is dis' gon a heal? Tis been damn neayah five minutes and still no closin'.

Gnot had no clue when it came to medical problems. He was a ringmaster, the only thing he knew how to handle was money. When it came to things like these he always complained when his wounds don’t heal almost instantly. Gnot returned to the battle and watched as the creature continued to stomp towards the gnome. The goblin silently grabbed his tophat and placed it on his open head. He began to creep his way over to the side of the arena where he would make his way to the little gnome. Double teamin', I luv' it.

[Fyndergald]

The gnome had regained his breath. He stared in horror as the devilish goblin had feel the ground in excruciating pain. He seemed to be struggling to do something, maybe trying to force the pair of hands and their owner out of his body. The pair of hands seemed to be fighting for the same purpose. After a few moments length, the goblin and the gruesome couple of appendages had succeeded in their task. The hands were propelled from the cranium of the little green one. Following them, a pale head and slim torso emerged from withing Fynder's opponent. The gnome's eyes broadened as he watched the pale-skinned fell from the skull of the goblin and into the dirt. Dripping, transparent ooze fell from the skin of the creature in front of him. It stood much taller than the gnome or the goblin, at about the height of a human. Fynder was speechless. Had he really just witnessed what he had just witnessed. He thought for a brief second, "No...there's no way they set me up against someone with the same talents as mine. Could it be possible that this goblin is also an illusionist? If so, I must admit, he is much more talented than myself."

Fynder stood ready, as prepared as he could be for anything that the new creature could throw at him. He slightly suspected that it was not real, but he was prepared for it if it was. The creature stood up. Fynder held fast to his staff, but to his surprise, the creature did not move forward. Instead, it turned to face the goblin, and knelt down before him. Now Fynder knew what was going on. "It is real then," he thought. "It is his minion, or summoned slave. It will follow the goblin's wishes to the death, with no hesitation, so I must be extra careful." Fynder watched carefully as the goblin's eyes also widened at the sight of the beast kneeling as his feet. Then the look in his eyes turned from wonder, to that of a corrupt dictator ready to wield his power. Fynder watched as the slimy creature got up from the ground. It almost seemed to nod. Then, it began doing something that Fynder did not understand. He thought, "This cannot be! How is this possible!?"

The slime and ooze on the skin of the pale creature began to disappear. In it's place, hardened rock took the shape of the creature's body. It grew wider, taller, and apparently stronger. The creature seemed almost like that of a rock or earth golem. Fynder sighed as the goblin pointed forward. He could only image the joy that the little green creature could have been feeling. It simply had to sit and wait for his slave to do his bidding, and he could stay back in his cowardice and safety. The golem started to step, very slowly, toward the little gnome. Fynder thought, "I've no chance against this thing with my staff, but...wait..." Fynder paused in his thought as he watched the massive rock beast. It's steps were methodical, slow and steady. "Maybe," the gnome's eyes brightened. "This thing may be strong, but it seems much to slow to pose any real threat."

Fynder ran around to the side of the golem. It changed direction, keeping to a direct path toward the gnome, but resumed its same slow stepping. Fynder grinned wickedly. He hollered to the goblin, "Well it was an admirable effort, green one. I regret to inform you that your summon will be of no use to you." He laughed at the foolish goblin. "Time to face me yourself," Fynder directed his thought toward the goblin. Fynder burst into a run, circumventing the golem and heading toward the goblin. He charged headlong towards the goblin. He raised his staff above his head, readying it to strike like a cobra. As he neared the green creature, Fynder was surprised by a deep, booming voice that shook the ground beneath his feet.

"You shall not harm Master!" Fynder wheeled around to face the rock golem. It had not been so useless as he thought. The massive, rocky being was charging headlong in the gnome's direction. "AHHHHHH!" Fynder shrieked. He ran passed the goblin, swinging once at him in a desperate attempt to land an attack. He didn't try very hard. In his panic, he didn't even notice if he hit anything or not. He jerked his staff back and held it in his right hand. He started sprinting as hard as he could to try and escape the golem. He was unsure of its speed still, he only knew one thing, he must get away. As the golem ran him down, Fynder tried to think of something sneaky to do to outwit the beast. There was not much he could think of, but he needed to do something and fast. He would soon run out of energy, and he wasn't sure if the creature would ever stop. Fynder ran straight toward one of the outer walls of the arena. Then he whipped around again to face the creature. The creature did not slow it's charge at all. Fynder dug his staff into the ground beside him. He was sweating from nervousness, something unfamiliar to him. The creature was almost upon him. As it took its last step toward him, Fynder dove to one side, using his staff as leverage to increase his jump. He rolled into the dirt. The golem turned toward him, but its momentum was too great. It slammed through the great stone wall!

Fynder was surprised. He thought the wall would hold and the creature would kill itself, but the weight of the beast and the force it had exerted on the wall proved too much for the stone to hold. Fynder picked himself up off the ground and dusted his robes. "That ought to teach you to pick on someone so much smaller than you!" Fynder shook his fist at the rubble of the wall. The dust was just beginning to clear. Fynder turned around, facing his attention once more toward his goblin enemy. He was only halfway through his first step when he heard the booming voice again.

"You shall not harm Master!" Fynder recognized the voice as the golem's.

"What am I supposed to do with this thing!?" Fynder cried out into the air. He ran away from the broken wall toward the goblin. "Maybe," Fynder thought, "If I can take out the 'Master' then the Golem will fall as well." Fynder charged toward the green one, carrying out his new plan.