The Troll turned and spun around with his swords twirling like a cyclone of blades but the Blood Elf deflected the onslaught with ease planting his staff in the ground and swinging around it like a pole to kick the Troll and send him flying into the crowd.

The Orc was next with a fast series of jabs with his spear pushing back the defense of the Blood Elf. A grin formed on the Orc’s face as he seemed to have the upper hand until the Blood Elf lept into the air and slammed his staff against the ground with such force the shock wave knocked the orc back into the crowd next to the Troll.

Dyer stood speechless as the Troll and Orc got back on the feet and bowed to the Blood Elf before the three of them began their dance around the ring again. He watched them for several minutes studying their moves trying to find weaknesses and flaws. To his surprise he could find none and a solemn thought began to form in his mind.

“Daelin Bowstrider,” came the gruff voice of of an Orc behind him. Dyer turned to find the face of a friend, an old Orc warrior named Eitrigg. “How long have you been out here? You know better than to keep Garrosh waiting.”

“I haven’t been here long, Eitrigg,” replied Dyer. “I was on my way in when I saw... this.”

“Ah yes,” smiled Eitrigg. “The monks.”

“Monks?” asked Dyer.

“Come inside and see Garrosh. You will learn much.”