The Tournament of Fire was always violent, but it finally lived up to its name. They would need to seriously consider new rules for the next tournament, if they hoped to have any survivors . . . or participants. The wind shifted and smoke from a smoldering corpse blew in her face. They had to move the remainder of this year’s tournament outside to accommodate the new abilities of the Suriaxian fighters. It became apparent after the third time the stadium tree caught fire that it would not be a suitable location for the fights. “Svanteese,” Maerishka called. “Have the clerics work on fire protection spells to infuse with the tree before the next tournament. Also ask them about the feasibility for doing the same to the other buildings in town.” With fires breaking out daily, it was difficult for people to get any work done, although it was getting better. “Oh, and bring the Tournament Champion to me.” Maerishka went to her receiving chambers and removed her gloves, flexing her fingers in satisfaction.
