"Ladies and gentlemen!" The announcer's booming voice startled Roran. "Welcome back to the Iron Gauntlet. Today, we get to see who will advance on to the final round and who will fall in their pursuit for money, fame, and—most importantly—glory for the great kings. Today's challenge is more complicated than before. It will require our brave little combatants to be light on their feet and quick with their wits. Today's game is the Troll's Gambit."
Roran frowned, racking his brain for any reference to the name. He came up empty and waited for the announcer to go on.
"First, like any encounter with a troll, our intrepid heroes must cross a bridge, then they will be forced to ascend a steep hill, at the top they must navigate a maze full of traps and pitfalls. At the center of the maze is a pot of gold, well, something almost as good as gold. There are medallions that the heroes must take back with them, back through the maze, down the hill, and back across the bridge.
"Once the medallion is safely inside a gladiator's basin, the medallion is safe and cannot be removed. However, until the medallion is safely tucked away in the basin, anything goes. To move on to the final round, a gladiator must have retrieved at least one medallion. They will also receive a fistful of coin for every medallion they collect. The game is over when the last medallion is placed inside a basin, or when all living players have a medallion in their basin.
"Now, as you can see we have just over thirty gladiators, but sadly there are only twenty medallions. Any surviving gladiators that do not have a medallion at the end of the round will participate in a penalty game after the round has finished. If they survive that, they can move on to the final round. But, as some of you may remember, very few people survive the penalty game."
The audience laughed, enjoying some sort of private joke with the announcer. Roran wished he could ask Nul or Kell about it. Having focus markings to communicate with them would be a huge advantage in this fight. Unfortunately, it had been made painfully clear that focus markings were outlawed in the Crucible.
"Now, for the victors from our last round, we have provided a little gift. Something to make their lives a little easier this round. Each gladiator that managed to collect an orb yesterday now has a nifty little device for carrying their medallions. They may look simple but they could mean the difference between life and death."
Roran re-examined the hook and rope. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to have, he looped it around his neck, wearing it like a necklace.
"Now, without further ado, Earthmovers start the show!"
A procession of people in red uniforms ascended from the Crucible, marching out into the arena. They carried long staffs and began using them to draw patterns along the ground. Roran sat and watched patiently, wondering what sort of structures they would pull out of the dirt.
Once the earth movers had finished their preparations, one of them yelled out a command. All of the earth movers hustled about the arena, moving to specified locations and creating a diagram of human bodies. Then, on cue, they all stabbed their staffs into the ground, flooding the patterns with light.
Watching the earth movers create the miniature city in the King's Arena had been impressive. Seeing them do it up close was mystifying. The ground beneath Roran shook and trembled. Walls rose up from the ground, growing higher and higher. Part of the ground caved in, creating massive pits. The whole time the earth movers stood in place, never moving, never flinching. They stared at the ground and concentrated on their work. Finally, the arena stopped shaking and the earth movers quickly broke formation, running back into the hallways below the Crucible.
In front of Roran was an odd structure. The center of the arena looked like a fortress rising up from the ground with a large moat around it. Several bridges crossed the moat but they were narrow, only wide enough for a single person to cross at a time. The moat was deep enough that Roran couldn't see the bottom from his vantage point.
On the other side of the bridges was a steep incline, leading up to a large wall with gaps in it. The walls and gaps reminded Roran of a hedge maze, only taller and made of stone. From there, Roran's view was obscured.
"Ladies and gentlemen, are you ready?!"
The audience roared.
"Gladiators, are you ready?!"
Nobody in the arena said anything. From the lower levels of the stands, Roran heard a familiar, earsplitting whistle. Looking up, he saw Kell beaming down at him, her spear raised in salute. Roran returned the salute. He wasn't alone in this. He had people supporting him.
"Let the Troll's Gambit begin!"
The bell rang, sending reverberations through the arena and rattling Roran's teeth. The game had begun.
Looking around, he saw a handful of people sprint forward, heading straight for the bridges. Roran held back, letting plenty of space grow between himself and the others. He wasn't ready to engage anybody in combat yet. Plus, his first priority was killing Morena.
Moving forward at a subdued pace, Roran headed for one of the bridges. Another combatant had already made it across and was scrambling up the steep incline, her feet slipping on the smooth stone as she fought against gravity.
Making it to the bridge, Roran peered down into the moat. It was a long fall onto stone spikes. One bad step, or a simple push, would be the end of him. Roran looked around at the other combatants. Several were working their way across the bridges, while many more were hesitating at the edge of the moat.
Roran nodded to himself, working the puzzle out in his mind. The rules favored people predisposed to violence. All you had to do was collect a medallion and put it in your basin, then you were safe and could move on. It would be simple to wait at the bridge and ambush whoever tried to come across with a medallion. Of course, anyone hoping to ambush a gladiator coming back with a medallion would have to fight the others waiting alongside them.
Roran continued to wait at the bridge, not because he wanted to ambush anyone on their way back, but because he was being indecisive. He didn't care about the medallions. He cared about killing Morena. His best bet to kill the cruel swordsman would be to ambush him on a bridge, but he doubted Morena would bother getting his own medallion. He would force somebody else to get it for them and reward them with a quick death.
As much as Roran wanted to focus on killing the bastard that had hurt his friend, he couldn't risk losing the round. The penalty game sounded dangerous and Roran didn't have room for any more unknowns. He'd win the game and then focus on putting his sword through Morena's black heart.
Taking a breath, Roran stepped out onto the bridge and began crossing the moat.