"I did not expect this much." Kabsal grinned. The True Orc stood twelve feet tall, his skin bronze and sun-kissed, his enormous frame covered in muscles. He stood at the center of the vast stone platform.
Stone thrones lined the edge of the circular platform, packed tightly together. They rose level after level into the sky, seemingly without end.
Godkings and Godqueens. Sun Elves, whose skin was almost the same bronze as his own but possessed greater luster. World Elves of countless kinds had also gathered: Wood Elves, High Elves, Frost Elves, and the others whose names he couldn't care less to remember.
His eyes moved to the races of mankind: The stark white skin of the Fairmen and the red-stained skin of the Shifters. They were men. Not like the one he was about to face.
The one he would face was weak. Their world was like a child fresh from its mother's womb. He would feel no thrill in this fight. It would be a slaughter, yet thousands of GodKings and Godqueens came to watch.
