Kobold arena

The band was led through a corridor into a smaller but grander room. At the back sat none other than what they all supposed to be the Emperor. He was short, sitting on a stack of gold and jewels. He wore a simple loincloth shirt and a velvet cloak. A belt that seemed to be made of some kind of animal skin and enforced with scales rested on his waist. It was studded with all kinds of jewels, much like the ones he sat on. The buckle being made out of some diamond-encrusted material with a rosy tint.

Once he noticed the band, his arms flew open in a welcoming gesture. He shallowly bowed to the visitors before announcing loudly in an oddly squeaky voice, “Welcome travelers, I have heard of your comings from a few scouts. Let me introduce myself, I am Emperor Zeltet. Reigning and proud leader of the Thicket clan. It seems as though you have come to ask a favor of my clan. Out with it.”

The group looked around at one another one last time before the tallest came forth and bowed deeply, “I come to ask of you to stop raiding the village.”

The Emperor just gestured for the others to state their business, obviously pondering the request.

Next Chime-me bowed and asked, “I request of you to talk to the Sierra clan and stop them from attacking my people.”

Azek bowed not a moment later, quickly speaking “I come to seek refuge among the Kobolds from those who hunt my bounty.”

The last of the foursome bowed gingerly and muttered, “I'd like to farm some newts from the underground lakes.”

Zeltet studied each and every one of them, silently assessing them in posture, demeanor, and overall aura. After a few moments, he made a clicking noise with his tongue before speaking loudly “Very well. But to get what you want a sacrifice will need to be made.”

They looked between one another in bewilderment, cautiously returning to their standing positions.

The Emperor waved his hand, a silent laugh coming deep from within his throat, “No, no, no. Not one bathed in blood for something like a ritual, no. Rather something like a fight to the death, except the farthest one must go is knocking the other unconscious. Or maybe they'll die from blood loss, who knows,” he wholeheartedly laughed.

“It's simple, the four of you go face to face in a sort of arena and attempt to knock out or kill one another. That who is unconscious or dead won't get what is requested. Simple and fair?” he asked.

The four slowly nodded, understanding that the worst one had to do was knock the other out. It didn’t seem too dangerous.

The Emperor jumped up real quick, shouting “Oh! I forgot to ask for all your names.”

He went down the line, gesturing to each person individually. Azek, dragonborn. One would speak, while another would say Kylan, Tabaxi. So on down the line with Zil, Tiefling and Chime-me, Aarakocra.

Zeltet nodded approvingly, making a swift hand gesture to Gib for an unnoticeable leaver to be pulled. The whole room shook and it opened up from beneath them, a sandy arena below them. They stood on the edge of a platform. Zeltet smugly took a seat again on the Jewel pile, smirking devilishly and whispering something to Gib. He nodded and strode off to watch over the actions of the four adventurers.

The arena pit was filled with mounds adorned with caves and holes leading to others in the same fixture. Some big, some small, some as large as the mound itself. All stood taller than
even Kylan though. None exceeding more than 60 feet in height.

The floor gave way under them as they fell into the packed ground below. A loud thud came from the impact followed by groaning from all but Chime-me who managed to slow their fall by spreading the wings resting on their upper back.