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Knock, knock. "Wizard!"
Ivan Zagad looks up from a massive tome laid
out on the desk before him. "Enter!"
A young, rough-faced man, one hand stroking
a sword hilt at his hip, opens the door to the
mage's Pit residence and walks in. "Ah,
one of Melanos' ssservants," greets Zagad.
"How have I piqued the interestsss of security
this time?"
"This mysterious creature you'll be bringing
in, sir." The officer offers the mage a
slight bow. "The boss doesn't know what
it's like, what it eats, how big it is-- he'll
need some assurances before allowing it to enter
the Pit."
"It will fit inssside the arena, if that
is what isss making him nervous," hisses
the lizard-man. "And I will be feeding
it myssself."
The officer frowns. "He wants to know
that it'll be kept under control."
"Certainly. It will be under my eyesss
at every moment it is in the Pit. You may tell
Melanos not to be concerned. . . oh! Yesss--
tell him not to be concerned if it triess to
fly into the crowd. During the battle, I will
construct a force field around the arena for
the. . . protection. . . of the ssspectators."
"This thing can fly?" The officer
raises an eyebrow.
"As I said, that will not need to be a
concern. You may inform Melanos that regardless
of my pet'sss. . . capabilities, it will be
of no danger to the crowd. Now, pleassse leave."
"Yessir." The officer nods, wheels
about and exits.
Sithyigul the imp drifts out from his hiding
place in the shadows, alighting on Ivan Zagad's
shoulder. "Why did you have to tell him
that it can fly? I guarantee you that these
kobold-brained 'security' fellows sell their
information to the combatants. You might as
well have made an announcement; they'll all
hear about it nearly as quickly."
"It mattersss little," replies the
mage. "I merely wished to ensure that Torgal's
henchmen will not harm my pet during the fight
out of ssome misguided fear for their audience.
. . ah, the battle grows ever nearer. Come,
Sithyigul, we must prepare. . ."
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