***The lights in the stadium flickered out as a dash of red spot lights hit the runway entrance***

***A tall man stood at the top of the runway with a torn black rag covering his head. He wore an open chested black robe that was tied around his waist. In his hands were a book and a wooden staff. Next to him stood a dwarf of some sort who was also wore a robe, but with his hood covering his head.

The two made their way down the runway as the red spotlights followed them...
The lights remained off as the two stood in the ring, lit only by the spot lights.***

"I am Atrum Pars! And this is my assistant, Professio!"
The man spoke with a deep, scary and thick, latin accent,

"Once was I a formidable opponent and feared warrior in hell... a proven champion of hand to hand combat!
Only to be betrayed by someone I know is in this arena!"

The crowd remained quiet,

"He is hereee! We knowwww!"
Professio spoke,

"Kicked out of hell I was! Because they feared me! And reborn into the body of a mortal, but still do I posses the spirit of a demon!!!!"

"YESSS!!! A DEMONNN!!!"
Professio followed up,

"Closely I have watched you...Mortismere, strutting around dis' cesspool of unworthiness, I know you are lurking around here, so come out and face the partner you once betrayed!"

"YESS!!! FACE HIM!!!!"