This was to be no ordinary challenge for the hardy questors, their brawn was to be tested alongside their cerebral mettle. The Snake Master grinned to himself, surely this was to be a most entertaining evening…

The hour had come, the final trials were soon to begin. Already those who had made it this far gathered in the tiny magic shop, within the walls of Serpent’s Hold. Nocsaal watched over them, contemplating the events that were to follow.

Occasionally he teased the gathering crowd, summoning scaly beasts to send chills down their spines, feeding off their fear. The ground spewed forth pungent swamp waters, and vines crept up the walls, yet the crowd remained. Nocsaal knew they would not be scared easily, they had triumphed over some perilous trials to make it this far, strength of heart was a virtue they all shared. Summoning a magical gate, Nocsaal appeared in a blinding flash at the centre of the room. A wall of startled faces surrounded him. “Follow me” He said, striding through the shining vortex.

He watched as the crowds gathered in his home. It was here they were vulnerable, here that their minds could strengthen his dwindling powers.

Appearing before them, Nocsaal spoke loudly. “You have all done well to make it thus far, but your mutual respect should be short-lived.” A wry smile spread across his face, in stark contrast to the grim expressions worn by his captive audience. “Before me stand many strangers, but soon, before me shall stand six teams.”
After appointing the leaders, Nocsaal watched as the team’s quickly formed. Whispers echoed around the cavern walls as speculation grew of the task at hand. Nocsaal delighted in telling them that they would be plunged into an arena, and at the end of a mighty battle, the two teams who had the most members still breathing, should progress to the final stage. Some confidently laughed, feigning bravery, but Nocsaal knew their fear. Others said nothing, lost in thought, these were the ones to watch…

In a short while the people found themselves sealed within cages. A portcullis slowly rose, revealing a short corridor that lead to a pair of sturdy, and sealed, heavy iron doors. Most were silent, some hid in the shadows, but all were planning their strategy.
Nocsaal knew more than anyone that those who were quick witted would achieve victory. People complained that they were not fighters, much to Nocsaal’s amusement. The humble peasant could achieve success, had he the gift of insight, and a strategic mind.

The doors swung open, the fight had begun.
A large arena lay before them, with glowing runes at the centre arranged carefully around a mighty monolith. It depicted a huge serpent coiled around a rock, watching over the battle with an expression of eternal hatred. The sight sent fear through the heart of the mightiest warriors, though few showed any emotion.
One team rushed towards the centre, jeering at the others, taunting them to rush from the shadows that enclosed them. A barrage of magical attacks reverberated around the walls, already people fell, mortally wounded by powers arcane. A flight of arrows whistled through the air, raining down upon another team as they spewed forth from the darkened tunnels. Before long the sounds of clashing steel and burning spells echoed around the bloody walls, and the moans of the dying chilled those who remained hidden in the shadows.

It became clear an alliance had formed, as two teams congregated at the arena centre. Nocsaal smiled. They had used their time wisely, politics would seem a good alternative.

The new force swept through the remaining tunnels, cutting people down as they cowered in the darkness, before the remaining survivors held aloft their hands in defeat.
They had won.

The story is from http://www.uo-europe.com/