Fight:Gevurah/Orikahn v Gilwen/Shishi

Summary:

Presented by The Redskull Trophy Ring

Combatants: Gilwen & Shishi vs Gevurah & Orikahn

Stakes: Winner receives a pack of Manticore Quills (known for their mythical, high grade poisoning abilities).

Terms: No eye gouging, no hitting where 'the sun can't shine'

Master of Ceremonies: Brennia (Charlise) and Reginae (Nicolau)

Ring Marshal: Meri

Judge: Meri

Winner: Gilwen & Shishi

The Redskull Trophy Ring

Missing Entrance Posts?

Gevurah had arrived at the same time as Shishi, but seeing that self-important, needle-necked twerp of a vampire metaphorically fellate himself as he signed his who-cares surname on parchment held by greasy-fingered losers who couldn't tell the difference between a dirk and an athame set her blood aflame and she paced the Dwarven townsquare once to keep herself from pyroblasting that vampire back to Vailkrin. Having recovered her short fuse, reset her timer, she entered the ring. She's here to take the prize. Unfortunately this prize was only offered during a tag team fight. Having no friends to "volunteer" into this brawl with her, she had the Dwarves suggest names and fughters. After rejecting their first 4 suggestions, she agreed to Orikahn, having remembered him from her last visit to this arena. He was very knowledgeable of human mating habits and has an impressive focus and appetite for a fight.

Aira had arrived early, taking her place in the front row, keeping her eyes hyper focused on the ring in the center. The huntress was without her usual quiver of arrows and bow; the only thing she has on her person is a familiar skin filled to the brim with grog. Aira pulls out the cork with a squeak and partakes in a sip before closing it up again. She wears her usual leathers, the longer locks of her hair hanging loosely over her shoulder. The vixen rests her forearms on her thighs and remains silent and stoic.

Lanara never thought she’d return to Craughmoyle, let alone return to –this- particular area, as it didn’t exactly hold fond memories. There was Eirik’s fight, where she was beaten with billy clubs for defending her ex-fiance. Then there was last month… She had publicly confessed things to her sister, was beaten to a bloody pulp, encased in hardened mud, and then kidnapped. So, the elf enters the area with caution, avoiding the gaze of any leering dwarves that had seen her literally stripped of her bikini as Lucky had abducted her and ran off. One has the audacity to ask her to sit on his lap, as she scans the crowd for a place to sit! Lana ignores the dwarf, ignores a few catcalls, and glances at the ring, hoping that Gevurah suffers tonight. She disliked drow, and –that- drow had more than earned her spot on Lana’s ‘hate’ list. Her chocolate hues shift to the audience section, and she smiles as she sees her frenemy, Aira. Walking over to the foxkin, she leans in and places a chaste kiss to the blonde’s cheek, before lowering herself on a chair at her side. “Hello, Aira! I hear your cat-man is fighting tonight.”

Zedidiah scampers away from the Shishi entrance zone with his freshly autographed Shishi portrait, wiping his greasy fingers off on his pants. The little hobbit somehow has another sausage in his mouth by the time he settles into what he deems a good seat, away from a group of people wearing particularly tall hats, the bane of his seating existence. He gnaws on his sausage and pulls out the two pennants he has with him. One with Shishi's name, the greatest fighter in the world as far as he's concerned. The other has Orikahn's name, his sometime business partner. Dilemma.

Scandal was here again, seemed only a short time ago he had watched Lanara and her sister duke it out in this very same arena. This time however he managed to come alone as his bodyguards were preoccupied with a mission he had sent them on. By his appearance he appeared to be a tall Draconian male, with large black leathery wings on his back and a large scaley tail that swayed behind him as he walked. His scales were the blackest of ebony except for the soft red flesh that traveled along the bottom of his jaw underneath his snout and down his neck vanishing beneath his white garments and brown pants. He wore no shoes as none could fit those beast like feet. His red eyes scour the area leading up to the arena until they fall on a familiar and close friend. Moving with a speed and carefulness not to knock others over on his approach to meet Lanara, finds hers talking with a familar foxkin that he met once before, but of course under those circumstances he had been in a pickle of his own, now that had passed and Scandal waited patiently for the attention of his friend. Or rather he would interrupt if the individual tried to drag her from him. So as to make himself known. “Hello there, long time no see.”

Shishi watches from inside the little combatant's corridor, hidden from the crowd, -awaiting introduction-, as the amateur Gevurah walks into the ring and starts sneering at people. 'This is why nobody likes her,' he thinks to himself, followed quickly by, 'that poor cat-guy...'

Aurore autohits the sausage vendors, skillfully pilfering three-and-one-half meat links as well as an assortment of sweet and spicy peppers and a husk of bread crust to stuff it all inside. She almost gets caught by a portly dwarf with a spiked blond beard like a lightning bolt but she winks coyly at him and he forgets himself. And her.

Gevurah watches Zedidiah, a hobbit, by far the worst of the non-elven surface races, scamper away from Shishi with an autograph. She snarls. Her red gaze glows past the hobbit to Shishi, who is pointing at people affably. The worst. She glides over to Zedidiah and opens her bony, ebon hand just before his nose. "The sign." She does not know the commoner word 'autograph' so let's hope Zedidiah makes an educated guess as to which sign she is after.

Aira does not notice Lanara until she is leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek and the huntress bites the inside of her cheek to temper the desire to cringe at the affection. “Lanara,” she says as means of a greeting and immediately begins to partake in some more grog. If the witch was sitting beside her throughout the fight she would need it. “Where is your cheerleading outfit and pom poms?” She asks her with a knowing smirk. “Or is that solely reserved for your puppy?” As Scandal approaches the pair she tests the weight of the skin in her hand. She would definitely need more grog to survive this fight, even as a spectator.

Orikahn sits between two dwarven cheerleaders, looking determined. Management has substituted his usual loincloth for a somewhat more tasteful (and lavish) shendyt, dyed cream and oxblood to match the organization's colors and the arena's motif. Despite urging, he was unwilling to relinquish his skulls. With obvious enjoyment, the two cheerleaders brush, oil, and massage the cat, bringing his already healthy fur up to a radiant, show-worthy sheen. Though the cheerleaders try to coo and fawn over the feral feline, prompting Kahn to swish his tail in agitation. He's supposed to be on his best behavior, and that means no eating the sideline entertainment.

Gilwen had originally be interested in the promised prize awarded to the winner of the tag-team bout, which was why she had taken time from whatever elfy duties she had been engrossed in to enter- however, the moment she realized who she’d be up against, the desire for the aforementioned prize lost its appeal and all Gilwen cared about was potentially maiming Gevurah. This particular hatred when above and beyond racism. She lingered in the combatant’s corridor with Shishi, and watched Gevurah with blatant disgust drawn over her features.

Zedidiah glances over his shoulder, at the person Gevurah is probably talking to, and who is most importantly not him. But they do him the great disservice of not existing, leaving him pinned before the drow's gaze. The sign? Is this a code? "Right, yes of course, I'll just..." he garbles excuses around half-eaten sausage, before depositing Orikahn's pennant with greasy fingers in her hand. He's on her team, maybe she wants to cheer from the sidelines?

Brennia was getting a hang of these emcee things and if she were totally honest she secretly had fun as well. This time was a challenge as for this special 2 v 2 fight she would need an extra pair of eyes and voice! She had been requested to commentate on this fight again, as Charlise, so she brainstorms on who could equally be as entertaining. Yes, Nicolau of course, and he would be a nice piece of eye candy for the ladies, too! It was settled, a little something for all the audience to enjoy and someone she trusts to playfully banter with her. Disguised as she was last time in a pair of ripped up jean-like pants, deep purple corset under a dusky red leather jacket and the accessory of Nicolau on her arm. The crowd recognizes the sun kissed and burgundy haired woman which was dreadlocked so they cheer, “Shar, Shar, Shar!” Brennia whispered in her normal speaking voice to the man at her side, “ready? It’s showtime?” A wink as she hands him a voice amplifier potion to him before she turns her back to him, which would queue the rogue human to help her slip from her jacket. In another reality, Charlise and this Nicolau cut a rather good looking couple, but onto the introductions! “Laayidies and gentlemenn,” that smooth Jamaican sounding accent addressing the crowd, “anothar speciale treet far ya. We got four fightars. Naturallay we got two emcees tonight. I be Charlise and dis be Nicolau,” she steps aside so the ladies of the crowd could appreciatively woot at the man, maybe she takes a good look too. She grins before continuing, “I be introducin’ a vampirahr, da Titan of Winter, Blue Demon, Shi who be choosin’ a Sage elf by da name of Gilawhen. Who ya got Nicolau,” she steps aside to let the rogue human to steal their hearts with his own flashy introductions and when he finished a woman in the crowd screams ‘WE LOVE YOU NIC!’ This causes Charlise to grin wider, this was a good choice. She links her arm back through Nicolau’s and relieves him of his duty to carry her jacket in order to let him escort her back out of the ring to stand near where the judge usually sits. “Far tonight our lovely marshalle, Meri, be the judge!” This gets a big cheer from all, “so, cheer loud an’ proud far who ya love!” More fangirl screams for Nicolau and Charlise chuckles softly.

Reginae hadn’t expected to be announcing combatants any time soon. It’s Brennia who suggests the idea after learning that there’s a new type of duel taking place in the Redskull Trophy Ring. To be honest, it sounds like a nice break from the tension of planning wars and assassinations. Or is it? Aww, heck, it totally is. Brennia and the naga have a certain chemistry that’s sure to draw in the crowd. If their boisterous voices weren’t enough, their good natured theaterics would be. He presents in rather bland clothes; his usual garb consisting of matte black everything, a dagger on each hip, and perpetually unruly black hair. His arms are crossed, a cocky grin shot over the gathered crowd. The rogue stands beside Brennia’s disguise, locked at the elbows as he waits for her to initiate the proceedings. After all, he’s no bard. He nods as she speaks, keeping the easy grin before downing the potion. A grimace, quite a kick back. With a shake of his head, he turns gracefully to relieve the lady of her jacket before taking his place to reflect, almost perfectly, Brennia’s placement at his side. He keeps the jacket draped over his left forearm. Otherwise, they were twins. Mirror images of one another in stature and mirth, but it’s the lady that speaks first. He lifts his arms in the air to encourage a cheer when Brennia offers her ‘name’, bowing dramatically at the waist when he’s introduced. When his moment to speak presents, he’s surprised by the volume of his words. Rather starling, for the first time. “Thanks Beautiful.” He means to whisper but instead shouts. “I’ve been granted the equally important pleasure of introducing...Ahh you already know her, don’t you?” Various cheers and boos roll through the crowd like thunder, it’s unclear if it’s in response to his teasing introduction or the combatants themselves. “High Priestess of Vakmatharas -” He says the name slowly, it’s ridiculous, what kind of name is this. “Bane of Former Matron Laezila -” Careful enouncion is key “-and Matron of the House D’Artes. Gevurah’s been described by those fortunate enough to witness and survive her wrath as ‘unstoppable’ and ‘all powerful’. If anyone is going to give the Titan’s Champion and his companion a run for their money, it’s gonna be this lass.” A pause while cheers go up. “And let’s not forget her furry companion for the evening, Orikahn! Master of bow and stealth, his victories in this years Titan’s tournament are not to be overlooked! As ruthless as he is crafty, I’d say curiosity alone isn’t enough to take down this cat. And now! We will unveil the prize for the winners of today’s bout.” A wink for the ladies in the crowd, a mouthed ‘How you doin’ and a point for a random woman with a -very- low cut top. She shrieks and fans herself dramatically. A hush falls over the crowd, a purposeful silence while he scans, building tension. “A pack of Manticore quills! A rare prize, made valuable by their ability to inflict even vampires with it’s legendary poison.” He doesn’t elaborate on whether or not this is fact or fiction. When his part is complete, he tilts his head back towards Charlise with that same dopey grin. He nods in agreement with her judge announcement as their arm link. Though he’s never had the pleasure of meeting Meri before this moment, he offers a nod of his head as she appears. Both announcers bow in unison before retreating back to their places.

Meri makes her way down the long corridor and into the arena, but it is not to the stands for Meri. The woman confidently finds her place within the ring itself. While she is not partaking in the battle, she is still dressed as though she were ready to get a little down and dirty — she might be having to interject her way into this one afterall as the ring marshal. Her blonde hair has been pulled into a tight braid to secure the strands back and out of her face. Her name is introduced to the crowd and for a moment the blonde goes wide-eyed but she manages a flamboyant half-bow for the show of things. Blue eyes take note of each of the combatants, studying each one in detail. It’s hard to tell, but does Gevurah get a bit of stink eye from the ring marshal? Maybe, those drow, but Meri can put on a show when she wants to and recognizes that she is supposed to be impartial to any terms they have set. Speaking of those rules, “Any rules you lot want to lay out before we start this fight?”

Lanara crosses her long legs, somewhat overdressed, despite the warmth of the fan-filled arena. After being seen so scantily clad, last time, she was hopeful of blending in with the crowd, in a long-sleeved plum shirt, jeans, and black knee-high boots. Her long hair has been pulled into a bun, with a few strands left loose, to frame her fair face. She looks at Aira and cants her head to the side, chuckling. “No, Doll. I left the uniform and the pom-poms back in Venturil, before I left the ‘puppy’ as you like to call him… We split in February. I couldn’t make things work. But.” She shrugs, about to elaborate, and maybe mention her new man, when Scandal approaches from the right and takes a seat. How had they all ended up in the FRONT ROW?! She was hoping to blend in, after all! So much for that! “Hey Scandal. How’s it going? No Trinity tonight?” She looks around for his trio of bodyguards, notes that he’s barefoot, and then takes in his form. They had to get cracking on that talisman if he hoped to continue being seen in public. She waits for an answer, before she smiles and elbows Aira, always needling on the woman’s last nerve. “I want your Cat-Man to win… But not his partner. I hope she take an elbow to the nose, maybe it will improve the drow’s looks?!” Lana falls silent as Charlise and Nicolau strut into view, and she gives them both an appraising glance, recognizing the handsome avian in an instant. They’d make a lovely couple. And that Nico? Damn. Talk about eye candy! But… She had a man. A nice half-orc. Clearing her throat, she listens to Charlise talk in that island accent, and she applauds them both, her gaze glued to the ring.

Shishi gives Gilwen some side-eye, probably because he can sense that intense hatred she's putting out, and is happy to see that he's teamed up with someone who seems to want to punch the drow matron in the face even more than he does. Personally the prize of Manticore anatomy doesn't appeal to him. In fact, why would he want to have one of the few things that are still toxic to him? But his daughter likes these types of things, and it is a long running, true rumor that she sets his schedule for public appearances such as this one. So here he is.

Gevurah , when introduced by ‘Nicolau’, is bent over the guardrail designed to protect spectators from the fight. The crowd turns their attention of her as she wraps the Orikahn pennant around Zedidiah’s neck tightly. “YOU FOOL!” She jerks on the pennant with one hand as the other snatches the autograph book off his body. Ignoring the crowd, the Matron flips past three old Shishi signatures as she walks into the ring. She finds the latest Shishi signature, rips it free from the book’s binding, and tucks it into the wine-purple corset she wears over a long black dress slit on either side of her legs for mobility. She raises at brow at Meri’s question and glances towards Kahn for an answer. As far as she concerned, there’s no such thing as a dirty fight, but she’ll play by whichever rules these idiots choose to limit themselves.

Scandal smiled when lanara took notice of him. “I am well.” he said. “No I do hope they don’t show tonight, but I don’t think I can promise they won’t show,” He took a seat, next to wherever lanara would sit. He tucked his wings tightly together so as not blot the view of those behind him, but also to give lanara and her friend personal space. One of the snack servers moved by and Scandal cast out a little gold, and pointed to himself, Lanara, and her friend. “I will take club soda, with a splash of cherry juice and three cherries.” He moved his head towards Lanara, “Go ahead order what you want, its on me.” He also added, “Are you alright, being back here?”

Zedidiah folds in on himself in the aftermath of Hurricane Gevurah and the loss of his third favorite Shishi autograph book. Only a quick round of irresponsible spending can possibly restore him, and by the time the hobbit returns to his seat it is with two bowls of chili, a fresh sausage, a new Blue Demon shirt and hat, as well as fresh Orikahn and Shishi banners. He slurps his chili, waiting for the bout to start with a tiny storm growing in his heart.

Aira doesn’t have much of an opinion on Lanara’s failed engagement except lack of empathy so she merely shrugs as if the whole thing is no big deal. The vixen’s copper eyes flick towards Kahn as she watches the more than willing cheerleaders prep his fur. Her vulpine tail gives an agitated flick, batting against Lanara’s leg before she returns her attention to the emcees as they make their respective introductions. “Orikahn,” she says simply, turning her head slightly to look at Lanara. “His name is Orikahn.”

Orikahn shrugs off his attendants and stands, glad to be free of them, and strides up to meet the other combatants in the ring, cracking his knuckles as he walks. No squire arrives to greet him, no armor nor weapons proffered as the cat takes his place at the arena's focal point. To Meri's question, he scratches his head. There *was* something, and he was supposed to tell her. What did the backers say? "Ah, no, uhm." He begins to count on clawed digits. "No eye gouging, no hitting where 'the sun can't shine'," Kahn's head cocks at the bizzare idiom, "and, ah... that must be it." Frankly, Kahn's none too bothered with terms, and it might fall on Meri to adequately interpret what constitutes a "fair" fight tonight.

Shishi , on their walk into the ring, makes a comment to Gilwen about how the crowd (and possibly the marshal) are on their side, so maybe they don't have to pay as much attention to the rules as their opponents. Insight that being a seasoned veteran of the RTR will get you.

Gilwen smirked at Shishi's comment, and cracked her knuckles in a very cliche fashion. She intended to, mostly, abide by the rules.

Gevurah glares at the ancient elf and makes an obscene hand gesture that in Elven culture means 'your ears are round'. Buuuurrrrnnnn. Stepping outside the ring, the drow holds a mini conference with Kahn, They agree to a simple, secret plan. Secret. No more details here, people.

Orikahn may have neglected some of the finer terms of a tag-team fight and, sensing this, a dwarven official hops the ring and hurries up to Meri's side. "It's a tag-team fight," the bearded messenger relates, shooting Orikahn a dirty look, "and that means one fighter in the ring at a time. Partners outside the ring can’t shoot missiles or offensive magic in, though they're allowed to heal or enchant their ally. There allowed to switch positions, too, you know 'tag in' like." Trusting Meri to make an adequate interpretation of all this, the dwarf gives her a pat on the back (being short as he is, it risks being a pat on Meri's butt) and hops back out of the ring.

Lanara eyes the snack server, her eyes narrowing in mischief as Scandal offers to supply her with unlimited snacks. Excellent! “Yeah. I want a bucket of those sausage things that everyone is eating, but make sure it’s –turkey- sausage. I don’t trust the pork in these parts.” She visibly shudders. “Also. I want a GIANT bucket of popcorn. Some candy. One of those slushie drink things, cherry flavored. I also want water with some lemon squeezed into it. Um… A handful of napkins, I’m a total slob. And…” She grins, pursing her lips, unsure how to ask the next part. “Could you get me an autograph from Shishi? He’s the only one to be in the ring twice, that I know of, plus he kicked my exes ass… So… I need that mans personal signature, please! You can interrupt the fight, or catch him at the end, I care not. But I don’t want his blood, just his signature.” Lana leans back, her moment of fangirling at an end, as the server blinks, both amazed at the gall on the elf, and horrified that she’ll be fired if she doesn’t follow out her demands. Looking to Aira, the elf rolls her eyes. “Duh. I know his name is Kahn. Who do you think worked with him to arrange the fight with my sister? Me! He’s a nice fellow. But I dislike that midget he works with… So… Stunted. Speaking of stunted… Those cheerleaders are all up in your kitty! You should tackle them.”

Meri :: There were evidently not many rules desired by this bunch of combats which brought a smirk to Meri’s lips. However her amusement is squashed when this dwarf comes up and adds on a few more rules, making it a little less fun in her opinion but whatever. Mostly, it seems it is left up to her judgement mostly, for better or for worse. Meri steps back and watches the fight commence. One from each team takes to the ring while the other two stand back and await their own moment of glory. Meri will make sure the two not partaking in the fight remain an adequate distance away. There is a line, do not cross it. The woman’s attention is focused hard on the fight, the crowd and all of the ruckus made become little more than a blur to her. Every so often she might catch a snippet of something that someone was saying but she was not easily distracted. Though she has moved to the perimeter of the ring, the tattoo’d blonde is hardly stationary, her pace around the ring is a slow one, but her eyes never leave the fight. There were a lot of details to be observed, especially with combatants tagging in and out.

Scandal snickered to himself, a friend with a big appetite, he liked that. He handed the server a few saphires slivers to convince her to get the signature. And then turned back to the to arena floor and more importantly at least in his mind, his friends company. "No pork, good, I don't like it neither." He whispers a joke to lana.

Aira cocks her head to the side and lofts a pale brow curiously at Lanara. “You fought with your sister? You know what, doesn’t matter,” she says with a wave of her hand, dismissing the conversation all together. The suggestion that she should go tackle the dwarven cheerleaders is met with a pinch of the bridge of her nose and a deep exhale. “Hey…you….girl!” The huntress suddenly calls out to the poor snack server, who reluctantly turns around, hesitant to take anymore ludicrous orders. “I need the strongest brew you have here. The. Strongest. Brew,” she says more slowly for emphasis.

Shishi starts inside the ring for his side, and kind of glares past Orikahn towards Gevurah, who tried to steal his prize from his previous win in this venue (Khitti actually stole it), unhappy that he doesn’t get the first swing at her. This initial pairing could very well be repeated in the Titans of Winter grand finals soon enough, but The Blue Demon isn’t really thinking about that, so no plans to pull punches to save them for the bigger prize pool that the tournament offers up. He allows his eyes to go through their accursed color change, from ocean blue to faintly glowing crimson, making sure the effect on the surroundings is dramatic for the crowd’s sake. Shadows all around the arena sway and tremble unnaturally and the Shishi fans ‘oooh’ and ‘awh’ in anticipation of the show to come. Once they get the go ahead from Meri that the fight is on, the vampire steps forward, though no darkness moves with him, instead it is just him and Orikahn, the assassin standing with his hands up and throwing a combination of punches for the sabertooth’s jaw and temples. Near Gevurah however, a shadowy mass rises up from the ground and adopts a solid form mirroring that of the reigning Titan of Winter, and it throws that same combination of punches at her. Shadow boxing at its finest.

Lanara sighs, growing impatient. The fight hasn’t started yet, and her snack server was taking far too long. She was hungry. And she wanted Shishi’s autograph. Another heavy sigh, and she looks at Charlise, nodding in agreement, and she whistles at the woman. “YEAH! Fight already! Bunch of pansies!” And would you look at that? Shishi springs into action, aiming a jab at Gevurah, which causes Lana to jump to her feet, excitedly jumping up and down. “Get her! Throat punch that drow! You got this!!!” The elf forgets that she’s supposed to be ‘blending in’ and a man a few rows back loudly responds, “Hey! You with the nice ass! Sit down! We’re trying to watch the fight!” Follow by, “Wasn’t she in the ring a few weeks ago?” by a lowly dwarf. With a ‘hmph’ Lana sits back down, her hands balled into fists, as she watches the fight, and impatiently waits for her multitude of snacks.

Brennia grins as the action finally starts, “an’ it be the Blue Demon comin’ through with shadow fists!” A quirk of the brow, “aren’t dem fightahs supposed to tag into de fight?” The crowd starts booing and when Charlise was distracted she felt a pinch on her bottom! A whirl around to see the assailant was a dwarf man grinning at her, for only a moment those teal eyes flash in anger, but she calms herself, “hey dere, keep ya grubby mits to ya self!”

Meri hmmms. Shishi’s first move strikes her as a bit underhanded...but technically the rules were that those -not- fighting could not participate on the sidelines via magic or missle assaults. Shishi was in the ring, but attacking both combatants. Another ring marshal might flag it, it does seem shady, but Gevurah is a drow. So. Seems good. Meri is just going to go right ahead and ignore the boos. Keep going! Fight, fight, fight.

Orikahn bounces on his toes, eyes bright, ears pert, his attention keen upon his pale opponent. The shifting shadows send the fur down Kahn's back standing on end, but he shakes off the sensation with a shudder and circles in, eager to bring this match to blows. And blows already! That damned vampiric speed is sure to be a thorn Kahn's side. The fight's only just begun, and already the hunter is dancing back, sarcely able to keep his balance as he ducks away from the furious flurry of fists. Nearly tripping in his retreat, Kahn must drop back on one hand, but he recovers by rolling back onto his shoulders and turning his momentum into a swift upward kick. One leg shoots straight up, a bolt from below aimed at Shishi's chin.

Lanara grabs a Gevurah bobblehead from a passing kid, and hurls it at the dwarf that had pinched Charlise’s rear. “Keep your hands to yourself, half man!” The bobblehead hits him upside the head, and he winces, before backing up and lowering his head. Feeling the sting of bobbleurah, Charlise, and Lana, at the same time.

Scandal was mildly annoyed that it wasn't the same server when the snacks came, but nonetheless they came, the strongest brew, lana many assorted snacks, and of course Scandals mixed drink. "thank you." He said paying the male server. Obviously word was going around that he tipped well. He smiled when lana got exicited about the fight, and looks back at the one who told her to sit down. Putting a hand on her balled fist. he says, "Hey, try the turkey sausage." Turning to put his drink down with one hand he reaches into a small knapsack he had stowed beneath his seat pulling out triangle shaped bottle where a liquid floated near the top of the bottle. Inscrebied in some unknown language were the words translated to Inhale, or Smell ale, as the locals of Venturil were starting to call it. "Care for some Lanara?"

Reginae || Nicolau’s hands, now free of Charlise’s jacket, rest squarely on his hips (pre-teapot spout phase) while he pretends to squint at the combatants as they enter and exchange words with one another. The male has yet to sit. “By Aramoth, that might be one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.” He offers to both the crowd, thanks to the potion still in effect, and his ringside companion. His hazel gaze is glued to the action, a dog longing after a steaming plate of meat. The rogue tries to elbow her but she’s moved. “Hey,” daring not to part with the fight, he tries again with no luck. Her voice sparks the twist of his head towards the dwarve whose just unceremoniously pinched his co-hosts bottom. Reginae would have a calm, even toned discussion about the respect owed to strangers, regardless of gender or social standards in terms of personal space and the subjection of their sexes. Nicolau, however, -really- wants to watch the fight and to end this as quickly as possible. So, he swings at him. The punch connects moments after Lana's bobblehead hits him, throwing the dwarf back a few feet and he grins with satisfaction. There, that’s dealt with. His boyish eyes turn back to the fight. He winces audibly when Kahn nearly trips, eyes glued more like a spectator than an announcer.

Brennia gawks at the retreat the large feline was giving, “oh come on! What’re ya a scaredy cat!” A soft chuckle and the crowd joins, but there’s a flinch and a wince when he kicks at the vampire… Then there was comotion behind her and she grinned at Nicolau before moving on, continuing to slowly walk around the ring, “a swift kick from the kung-fu-Kahn, ‘ave at ‘em!” She can never stay still at these fights.

Aira shoots up out of her seat when Shishi begins his unrelenting blows on the prime hunter, nearly knocking over the ample tray of refreshments for this curious trio in the process as she cranes her neck around the server. She swipes out a hand, catching her drink before it tumbles to the ground and hisses, “c’mon, Kahn” under her breath as he is forced to fall back on one hand. She keeps her stance for a few moments as the feline aims a kick at the demon; however, the jeers behind her force the huntress to take her seat once more and the ears atop her head flatten in annoyance.

Shishi was advancing after Orikahn when the feline fell over, so the assassin basically walks right into the kick aimed for his chin. The impact stands him straight up and likely might have dislocated something if it weren't for vampiric strength and resilience aiding the assassin. He staggers back and bares teeth instinctually after having his head rattled. Red eyes flare and he reaches backwards while he stumbles back, darkness moving to and extending from his outstretched hand. They grow in size as the move towards Gilwen and take the form of a hand the size of a giants, big enough to snatch up the Sage Elf, which it does. The shadowy tether between Shishi’s arm and the back hand grasping the druid acts as a kind of bungee cord and sends both flying towards and past one another. This unorthodox tag flings Shishi ringside and Gilwen towards her target; Orikahn.

Lanara shouts “You rock Nicolau!” as he takes out the dwarf, before her big brown eyes take in the delivery boy and the multitude of snacks. She makes certain that everything is there, and wiggles a sausage at Aira, “Here! Eat. Keep up your protein for Kahn. If he needs a healer after the fight, I may be available.” Meanwhile, Scandal looks back at the man that had made the comment on her derriere, not that she could blame him, it was quite legendary, however, the onlooker gives the dragon his middle finger. Would things escalate? The elf tosses a handful of popcorn into her mouth, as Scandal is telling her to try the sausage, and she obliges, however, -that- much food at once isn’t wise. Choking now, she drops her container of popcorn and clutches at her throat, coughing. This was –not- happening. This blasted arena would the be death of her, it seemed. Her fist kicks out, aligned with Aira’s ribs, and likely would cause her to spill her ale, at the very least. Roughly hacking, she spits up a ball of sausage and popcorn, which falls to Scandal’s bare foot. Tears are pouring from her eyes, as she had fought valiantly for her breath, and she accepts the offered ale from Scandal, muttering a thanks, and not realizing that it was smellale. Taking a deep breath, the little elf falls back, the flask falling back into his hands, as she feels the effects of the drug. She had been roofied at the arena! Seeing double, she swallows, the room spinning, as she slumps to the side of her chair, nearly losing consciousness. “Au-toe-grap.” Clearly, she was still hopeful of obtaining a Shishi autograph.

Meri blinks at the manner in which Shishi decides to tag his partner in and himself out. What the heck even.

Brennia cheers with the crowd when the kick lands and is in awe along with them at the unique tag in, “we ‘ave ah tag out! Gilahwhen an’ Kahn!” The crowd goes wild at the switch up! How different, how exciting!

Scandal noticing that his friend had inhaled a little to much casual picks her up a places her on his lap, not in a disresptful way but in a way a brother might hold a little sister. "Come here, let me see if I have any Cojuka leaves, to ease that inhale." He says to her as he reaches for his bag, they would at least make her a little more conscious.

Reginae || Nicolau’s eyes are still on the fight. He cheers loudly as the GIlwen begins hurdling into the ring. The first official ‘tag’ to start the switchin and applauds. “Now that’s the way to do it! That guy of yours sure has some tricks.” This is said to Brennia over his shoulder. “These chicks have blood on the brain, ladies and gentlemen. Lithe, murderous rage pulls no punches!” Another comment dangles off the tip of his tongue but it’s muffled as he eats dirt. The dwarf he’d punched launched himself into the rogue’s back and toppled him with surprising ease. A dazzled humanoid considers the dusty grit on his tongue while the dwarf mutters some curse he doesn’t understand and shuffles off with his honor reclaimed. Nicolau stares after him as the fight continues to unravel, a goofy smirk lines his lips as he right himself.

Gilwen was at war with herself- forgo her sense of honor, or cling to it? As the shadows undulated and stretched throughout the arena, and the shadow-Shishi began boxing Gevurah, she made her mind up. The drow might notice in her attempts to defend against the vampire’s attack that the ground was suddenly a little more uneven than usual, or maybe, perhaps, she’s simply thrown off balance by the barrage of shadow-fists; every time the earth juts upward into a small hump under her foot, it flattens again just as quickly. Barely noticeable, unless you were Gevurah. This underhanded sabotage was abandoned the moment she realized the darkness coalescing and reaching out for her, and immediately the vines that coiled up her right arm from wrist to shoulder unfurled, their ends caught up in her fist. As soon as she was gathered up and slingshotted into the ring toward Orikahn, Gilwen lashed out with her organic cat-o-nine-tails’esque whip, aiming for the feline’s neck. The intention there was to wrench him forward and into a flying knee attack meant for his nose

Meri is not a mage and thus cannot sense magic, her eyes are keen but not so sharp that they would notice the ground moving ever so slightly. This subtle underhanded attack by Gilwen on Gevurah goes completely overlooked by Meri. As far as Meri realizes, Shishi is out, Gilwen is in, and everything is totally legit and fair so far.

Aira was just about to take a sip of her brew when Lanara, in her choking fit, punches the huntress in the ribs. Simultaneously, she winces at the sudden pain and growls as the jostling causes her to overturn her drink right in her lap! Aira very slowly turns her head in the witch’s direction, just in time to see her hack up a food-ball and spit it on the dragon-man’s foot. A low growl reverberates in the vixen’s throat and her tail, which had fallen victim to some spilt drink, gives another agitated flick. She watches Lanara inhale -something- and nearly fall over before the man beside her picks her up and puts the witch in his lap. Could this be the new lover the witch had alluded to earlier? No matter, Aira’s attention is drawn back to the ring by the uncouth way Shishi tags his partner, launching her towards the feline. “Watch out, Kahn!” She yells, seeing the elven woman aim an attack at the prime hunter’s neck.

Brennia heard more comotion behind her again as Nicolau was tackled! There seems to be a lot of action in the stands this time and immediately she snapped her fingers at a bouncer and pointed to the dwarf who his hilariously picked up under his arm on each side and walked out of the arena for attacking the emcee, kicking his feet all the way. She made her way to Nicolau and helped him up with a grin that matches his own, “take it easy there. We are supposed to comment on the fight and not start them,” she whispered to him in her real voice before giving him a swift peck on his cheek as a thank you. Just as she looks back is when Gilwen was pulling some sort of Indiana Jones attack, “that be quite de entrance! No?!” The crowd is back to cheering and jeering loudly. Some of them chanting “KUNG-FU-KAHN!!”

Gevurah takes to the air as soon as the fight starts, her piwafwi enveloping her like bat wings. All noble drow can levitate (albeit slowly), much to the chagrin of those who face them in battle. She prepared for this tag team duel by studying the fighting styles of feline combatants. ||> Flashback storytime: She did not (and still does not) intend to enter the ring until the cat expends his ninth life. How to extend them? The answer came to her on the back of a slave, quite literally. A disgusting, wretched drow slave collapsed right in front of her on the streets of Trist’oth. Gaping holes had eaten into his back, tissue sagging across the wounds like drool from Cerebus’s maw. Of course! Why hadn’t it occurred to her sooner? She was so happy she gave the useless slave the greatest gift of all: a quick, painless death! She ran home like a spry girl of 40, and quickly began to compose a new spell. Preparation is the one advantage to a fight with rules known in advance. A talented spellwriter, it only took Gevurah 37 failed spells and 13 corpses to get the spell just right. < || Presently, floating above the ring and just outside of it, Matron D’Artes reaches under her piwafwi into her bottomless satchel of reagents and pulls out a vial of a specially prepared mixture of sebum oil (freshly harvested from teenage slaves [google it]), dried ghoul skin flakes, and cobra venom. In her other hand, she holds a handful of mixed coins. As Shishi’s shadows coalesce beneath her feet, she calls upon the power of Vakmatharas with the Death Prayer as she spreads the mixture onto the coins, then adds her own verse, “Born wedded to death; a dowry of breath. When you have none left, a tithing of flesh.” She throws the coins at Kahn’s body as she freefalls to the left at the speed of gravity, aka faster than her levitation, and thereby narrowly missing the first onslaught of Shadowform Shish’s skyward punches. As the coins hit Kahn’s body, they shimmer and melt into his fur, turning it inky black and slick, and pockmarked with verdant, bulging pustules the sizes of various coins. Should Shishi or Gilwen burst one of the pustules, necrotic acid will spray outwards for about a yard, spraying at an obtuse angle and threatening to rapidly eat their flesh and deliver unto it true death, which affects both the undead and living. Orikahn’s inky black fur protects him from the acid’s negative effects, freeing him to burst those pustules as he so pleases. Gevurah catches herself inches from the ground, lying horizontal and vulnerable to Shadowform Shish’s now-downward flurry of punches. One, two, three whallops sends her flying towards the spectator’s guardrail. Gilwen’s convulsing floor slips out of sync with Shishi’s attack at just the right time, lending Gevurah a little more leeway to dodge on blow and send up a semi-translucent gray orb of protection. It cannot protect her from physical attacks, but magic attacks such as Shishi’s shadow punches cannot penetrate the orb for a little bit of time, until her defenses are weakened enough for the shadows to burst through. Hopefully she has enough time to prepare her next spell (priests’ best spells are notoriously slow). She levitates again, and hopes her orb holds out as she pulls out Shishi’s signature from her corset to employ it in her next spell...

Lanara is lifted into the air, and thinking she was on the back of a flying mount, she screams ‘WHEEEEEE’ at the top of her lungs. The roar of the crowd drowns out most of her outburst, and as she’s rested on Scandal’s lap, a mixture of drunk and high, she looks at him, her eyes narrowed. Even in her rapidly inebriated state, she knew Scandal from Largakh, and she growls. “Ew. Are. Nut. Green.” She tries to roll off of his lap, and whimpers as the ground seems so far away. She wanted out of this damn arena. Craughmoyle was the devil! As she looks up at Scandal again, he has a handul of leaves that he’s trying to force into her mouth, and she snaps at the man, nearly biting his fingers. “Poy. Sun. Eye. Vee?” Why was it so hard for her to use words? Who won the fight? In a fit of drunken rage, she snatches the leaves, and chews them, swallowing their juice, though she spits out the remains on the floor, as though it were some rare form of tobacco. After several agonizing minutes on the mans lap, and seeing double, she can at least somewhat focus, and she sits up, no longer the broken doll from moments ago. “Thanks.” She gives a sidelong glare to Aira, for not helping her while she was in that state.

Reginae || Nicolau’s too engaged in the hair raising, blood pumping COMBAT to see the dwarf get thrown out. It would hurt his pride!! Instead, Brennia’s disguised form appears to help him up while he’s dusting a large patch of dirt off his left knee. Whatever the case may be with that man, the rogue is still in a jolly mood. “Did you see that woman!? She came out o’ the shadows with some mad weaponry!” Didn’t he hear what she said? His observation is broadcast to the crowd as they launch their own muted opinions from their respective seats. Not that he was picking sides but...damn. Her kiss earns an appreciative smirk with an ‘awww shucks’ appeal, his dirty arm swings ‘round her shoulder while the other balled fist is thrust upwards into the air with a cheer. “HOLY MACKEREL?!” He cries (and yes, all caps is absolutely necessary) as Gevurah throws her cursed coins at Kahn and his fur absorbs them. As long as no more wise guys try to fight him, he’ll stick to his job, thanks very much!

Scandal pulls one of his wings from his back and moves it so that the bottom was on the inside of his leg, and then tenderly moves lana to the side placing her on the leg with the wing, in a way he makes a chair that can lean back allowing her to be safe and secure because the leaves weren't going to change the physcial disability of inhaleing that much smellale. His eyes glance towards her, "Sorry, my bad. Careful, just lean back and watch the game." He himself picks up his fallen glass removing spit food that fell into it, from lana and takes a sip. Behind him in above the bleachers the same man who flipped him off was being dragged by a shadowy thing out of sight.

Aira ’s eyes go wide as she sees Gevurah launch some coins in the arena at Kahn’s back, watching them stain his sleek coat black as pustules begin to bubble up. The huntress is reminded of an unpleasant memory of the pair fighting off undead creatures and the prime hunter receiving a nearly fatal bite. Aira’s heartbeat hammers in her chest as she sucks in a breath anxiously. Surely the drow wasn’t trying to harm him as they were on the same team, right?! For a moment, she takes her eye off of the match to check in on Lanara only to catch that sidelong glance. The huntress wasn’t gifted in “girl code” but she had a feeling that this dragon-man wasn’t the lover Lana had alluded to earlier. In a moment of sympathy, Aira curls her fingers around Lanara’s wrist and pulls her from Scandal’s lap, keeping the witch firmly at her side. “Don’t. Touch.” She says with a warning glare at the dragon.

Meri :: The fight rages on, the crowd is a rowdy one tonight. Meri is not sure what all the commotion is about because she can’t really dedicate the time to staring up into the stands to piece it all together. She may not have called any bad shots yet, but it can’t be said that she has been inattentive. The blonde still moves along the perimeter of the ring, moving in slow side-steps and careful to remain out of battle — but still close enough to step in if she needs to. Gevurah’s Enchantment has Meri lifting a brow in mistrust, Meri is not entirely to sure what manner of spell the drow has cast but she assumes it must be some sort of Enchantment to aid her team mate. Allowed.

Orikahn is scrambling madly to get onto his feet when he feels the foul taint of deathly magics spreading over him. He gives a shuddering cry somewhere between rage and pain, agony and adrenaline as the pustules bloom across his body. Bright, phosphorescent energies glow behind the cat's eyes as he stands and throws his head back in a roar--a roar cut short by Gilwen's lash. The fearsome shout turns into a choked squeak as his eyes bug and his head jerks, precisely as planned, into Gilwen's knee. There's a sickening "thock" as face bones meet leg bones. Perhaps not quite as planned? Gilwen's blow elicits eldritch eruptions from several of the putrid pustules. Kahn would have tumbled with the force of such a blow, but instead he jerks against the lash's tethers, held harshly in place. A little dazed, he gives his head a brisk shake, flinging more necrotic goop off from his fur in a mist around himself. Bright red blood streaks down from his nose and front teeth, staining his fangs a grisly red to further exaggerate his horrid transformation. He swipes at Gilwen's wrist, aiming to snatch the hand that binds him. It's his plan, if he can, to pull the elf in for a crushing, pus-soaked bear hug of disgusting (and deadly) proportions.

Brennia kept her eyes peeled on the fight, but her friend’s arm around her shoulders put a fog on her mind a bit. Just for a moment she lets him announce the fight blow by blow and direct the crowd in their cheers like an orchestra. She blinks once and looks to him as they are equal in height as if to say ‘you’re on!’

Lanara went from her chair, to Scandal’s lap, to a winged hammock, and back to a standing position at Aira’s side, all in a matter of minutes. Though the leaves had done their work to reduce the effect of the smellale from all the bustling around, the witch felt not quite herself, and she blinks until her vision clears. The foxkin had her hand around her wrist, Scandal gave them both an incredulous stare, and the man in the back row was still shouting colorful words about her derriere. Now, a few of the men turned to stare at them, and ignored the fight, and Gevurah’s moment of epicness to appraise the brunette, and her sexy blonde frenemy, and both were awarded catcalls. “I’ll be your dragon, Cinnamon!” Good goddess, she had been discovered! In a moment of panic, she gently nudges Aira, and hurriedly whispers, “I’m going to get you a replacement drink. I’ll be right back.” She pats the foxkin and heads to the concession stand, trying her hardest not to wiggle when she walks.

Reginae || Announce he does! Nicalou’s dazzled by the battle, in true (secret) naga fashion. He calls out each blow with child like intensity and excitement. Yule had clearly arrived ahead of schedule! “The whip-!” He starts, only for Gil’s knee to crash into Orikahn’s face. “That’s a solid hit!” His arm tenses, he’s hopping a little now. “Oh but force caused those nasty looking boils to burst, and he’s DRAWING HER IN! How can she possibly tag out now?!” The alarm is palpable in his tone. Hazel eyes catch Brennia’s, distracted still in the blood sport. His brows furrow anxiously, he wants to look back at the ring. He smirks again without knowing why.

Shishi has, in his few interactions with the drow matron, known her to be just awful, even if you were on her side. So it comes as no surprise that Gevurah does something gross to Kahn. ‘Poor cat-guy,’ the sentiment that the vampire had before the fight even began is echoed in his mind now while he cringes sympathetically. Still, the priestess didn’t need to be shy. If she wanted an autograph, she didn’t need to steal it from a super fan, she could have just asked. The Titan is the people’s champion after all. Shishi’s focus isn’t on the drow magically blocking his shadowy punches right now, nor the tissue she pulled from her corset to blow her nose into, it is on Orikahn and what he is going to do with his transformed flesh. It is gross acid. Great. He’s late to react to the first spray of goop, but when it starts eating through whatever it touches he is quick to give some aid to his teammate. Gilwen’s own shadow springs to life and envelopes her tightly and completely. It might be startling how quickly it happens, but she will find that her movement isn’t restricted by this film of darkness covering her and adding an extra layer of protection that the acid must eat through before harming the druid. Normally Shishi’s controlled shadows aren’t particularly friendly, so he is starting to sweat on the sidelines through the effort involved with keeping that darkness from doing more harm than good for the elf...

Scandal sighed, it wasn't because he had lost lanara, no, they were friends, not lovers and he wasn't a guy who grabs and takes advantage of women, no if history served him right he was quite the opposite, no the sigh was because some assumed that he was that kind of person. He turns to the foxkin, "Just to be clear, I don't care what you think of me, nor do I care how you willl think of me afterward, but lets be clear, I and her, are not lovers, nor am i trying to take advantage, I gave her powerful ale which i assumed she would use in a small dose, and when she didn't i felt I needed to fix my mistake, I fed her some leaves to negate those effects, that is why she is able to walk and get up to get you a replacement ale. I am going up to pay for it, and then I will leave, because I obviously can't prove myself to you, only she can do that. In the meantime though, those jeerers above us have a little experience coming to them." Scandal stood and turned to go toward concessions first to pay for whatever lana was going to buy, and secondly to pay for the clean up of their spot, and thirdly he passed by three tall shadowy figures who moved past him as he left the arena. "Make it hurt." he whispered. Seconds later those that jeered at Lana vanished one by one, and then they appeared no more.

Dezerae wasn’t good with crowds; this bit was apparent by her physical distance from the rowdy group and her mildly disguised presence, dark hood shrouding the scarlet hair that usually brought attention. But she was there, nonetheless, observing the battle in front of her, peering between many moving heads to keep tracking of the fighters at work. No combatant is intentionally focused on longer than the other but of course crimson hues would linger on one in particular.

Lanara is fuming at being called ‘Cinnamon’ and the fact that others had assumed she was intimate with Scandal. The magic in her veins combines with the leaves, is slowing down the effects of the smellale, and as she arrives at the concession area, she orders a replacement ale for Aira. Drumming her fingers against the counter, she sighs and looks to the right, only to see shadowed forms taking out those that had verbally offended her minutes before, and she grins at Scandal as he pays for the ale. “Thanks.” Apparently, Trinity had come to take out the trash, yet again. However, Silencia seemed to not fully understand her order, as she throws a shruiken through the air, aiming to strike the middle of Aira’s back. “NO! Aira!!! Duck!” Lana hands off the ale to Scandal, and darts through the crowd, somewhat swaying every so often, but for the most part in control of her body. A tall man stands in front of her, and as she aims to push past him, he extends his arms on either side, blocking her from advancing. “Hey! Remember me, from the Destrier?” Lana lifts her chocolate hues, resting on those unforgettable baby blue eyes, and she glowers up at the handsome male. “Nick. Move. Out. Of. My. Way. NOW!” Calling upon the element of air, a gust of wind pushes the bard out of her way, and she closes the distance between herself and Aira. Had she made it in time?

Gilwen ’s vines began to slacken around Orikahn’s neck the moment her knee met his face- unfortunately for her, she was also met with a rattling pain that shot through her leg- but the hunter’s head jerk returned tension to the vines that ensnared his throat. The pustules that grew along his body were disgusting, and the spray that erupted from the burst boil was recognized as deadly only after it ate through the shielding leaf that sprouted immediately from her whip, and the glove and skin of her left arm where droplets had landed. A gasp of pain, and gritted teeth were the only acknowledgements given to the necrotic spell Gevurah had cast, not because of pride’s sake, but because Orikahn was drawing her into a disgusting, deadly hug. She jerked hard on the tether she held, in an attempt to loosen the leash she had fashioned, but the sudden blanket of shadows that fell over her stilled her movements and fed the acid. Kahn did draw her into that hug, but before he could crush her the collar of vines he wore suddenly sprouted small offshoots of vines that struck at each boil with a mind of their own, and all of them were grew needle like vines- those that attempted to pop the hunter’s pimples, and those around his neck. Hopefully, that would deter him from crushing her in his hug, and instead inspire him to remove her coiled whip. During all of this, the ale, water and any other drinks that might be currently served to the crowd were pulled from their glasses, as well as from the puddles on the ground. The mixture was a gross coalition of liquids that shot towards Orikahn from all directions to wash away any residual pus from any of the popped pimples.

Gevurah || As Monster Kahn pops a deathly pimple and fights for his life and her prize (make no mistake of that), Gevurah sprinkles graveyard dirt from her bottomless satchel onto Shishi’s autograph, then circumvents the ring quickly on foot, throwing more graveyard dirt onto the ground as her protective sphere holds out against Shadowform Shishi’s punches. She avoids getting too close to the real Shishi, as his attacks would have broken through by now unlike his weaker form. From the looks of it, that biased surface judge won’t stop him from attacking her outside the ring, not that Gevurah will complain. Once the area outside the ring is fertilized like a cemetery, Gevurah stabs Shishi’s autograph with an athame (not a dirk, you idiots!). The paper bleeds from the puncture wound at the precise moment that her protective orb pops out of existence. Shadowform Shishi smacks Gevurah’s temple so hard that it breaks her concentration and prevents her quick follow-up spell from casting. Her vision blurs, and she’s too dizzy to dodge a follow up attack. Shadow Shish is just about to land another blow when a wraithen reaper appears behind the shadow and swipes a ghostly scythe that sticks to the shadow’s ribs and yanks it away from the priestess. The wraithen reaper, summoned by Gevurah’s last spell, only targets Shishi or his shadows, and only outside the ring, thereby not breaking the rule of having only one combatant -in- the ring at a time. It can appear and disappear at will, and swings an enchanted scythe at its target. While normally it would ignore Gilwen until the druid is added to the spell via personal effect, Shishi’s defensive of the elf has played right into Gevurah’s offense, as luck would have it--and it is luck, for the Matron could not have planned for a sweeter deal. Now, when Gilwen steps outside the ring, the wraithen reaper will target the shadows that envelope her, and the scythe will not distinguish between the shadows and the flesh it protects. Gevurah takes to the air again and checks in on Kahn. Which of his nine lives is he on now? Does she need to step in yet? Yep. This is bad. Damn elves, damn druid. She spits in Gilwen’s direction, sending her spittle in with the beer and piss she draws from the crowd. “KAHN! She dives towards the ring to tag Kahn out and take his place, if only he can free himself.

Meri pauses in her movement about the ring as she watches the turn this battle is taking. It is starting to look rather vicious, even deadly, when the effects of Gevurah’s ‘enchantment’ is revealed. The boils pop and spew acid. How gross, and potentially lethal, especially with Kahn’s bear hug attempt. Meri is almost about to interject and put a stop to the fight when Shishi comes to Gilwen’s aid. Meri classifies this as another attempt to enchant an ally, as far as she is concerned. Gilwen seems in a far less periouslouss situation, the fight is allowed to go on. For now. The combatants still seem largely content to brawl it out anyway, if they are still in it to win it, then who was she to spoil there fun? Maybe this new wraithen summon of Gevurah’s will end up changing Gilwen and Shishi’s time a bit. These four are putting on quite a show for a crowd that was also delivering quite the spectacle.

Aira releases Lanara’s wrist only to bring her hands up to her mouth, sucking in a breath as she watches the blood bloom from Orikahn’s face and trickle down to his mouth. She didn’t like this. She didn’t like this at all. The huntress is once more so caught up in the fight that she doesn’t seem to notice or hear Lanara as she shuffles off to the refreshment stand. She is trying to stay focused on the match when the dragon beside her leans close and begins to deliver some sass. Aira keeps one eye on the ring while leaning in towards the dragon. “You listen here, Scales. You could have given her the leaves just as easily here in this seat without putting her on your lap. I don’t care whether you’re her friend, her brother, or her pet. Hands off the witch.” When he mentions paying for her drink she waves away the offer agitatedly. “Don’t bother. I don’t need your charity.” As she is leaning back to turn towards to the ring she hears Lanara’s yelled warning, and her metallic gaze widens in surprise as the throwing star comes sailing her way. The huntress lifts up her arm, shielding her most vulnerable parts and catches the shuriken in her thick leather gauntlet. Thankfully, it lessens the blow quite a bit but Aira can already feel blood pooling meaning the blade had still made contact with her flesh. “What the f—“ The vixen’s exclamation is drowned out by the roar of the crowd as Gevurah calls for a tag and Aira quickly turns her attention back to the match, giving that deadly star imbedded in her arm a firm tug.

Brennia watched as one of the contestants was filling the space between the ring and the spectators with a graveyard and this didn’t seem smart to be standing on. She takes Nicolau by the hand and leads him over to the half wall-like barrier that separates the spectators. They learned their lesson from the dwarf and move out of the way so the emcees may spectate the fight and properly commentate without being pulled into the fight. Brennia, as Charlise continued to cheer on the winners while Nicolau roots for the underdog and she starts to see the oddity that they were, two good friends in places of almost power and in disguise, but in this moment all ears on them as they emcee this thing. “Finally we see Gevurah in da ring!” She found her voice again even if they were leaning on each other for support.

Orikahn can't help grinning as his massive body wraps around Gilwen's comparatively diminutive frame. It is with apparent delight that he intends to constrict her. Shadows or no, Orikahn's arms loop hungrily around her in an ever tightening hold, muscles tensing to bulge against her, adding to the mounting pressure. Except something interrupts him. In what might later be referred to as the "strike of 1000 lancets", the druid's needles swiftly open Kahn's boils. If he doesn't act fast, they'll be opening his arteries next! So he does what any sensible cat would do. He releases Gilwen and thrashes for his life. Whipping to and fro, claws unfurled, Orikahn transforms again, this time into a blur of inky fur and glistening pointy bits. There's a coarse yowl, some audible shredding, and some skuffling of grit against the ring's floor. How much of this blind fury does Gilwen catch? It's anyone's guess, but her assailing vines are quickly minced. The fury is brief and terrible, and only calms down just in time for Gevurah's touch to land on his shoulder. And not a moment too soon. Scarcely a second after he's tagged, a torrent of beverages literally washes Kahn out of the ring and onto the sidelines.

Lanara winces as Aira is struck, although the gauntlet greatly diminishes the full-on attack of the shruiken, and Scandal seems to have caught on that his lackeys haven’t completely understood their orders. The ale is taken from his grasp, as she hands it to Aira, and the dragon vanishes from their line of sight, likely to reprimand the correct party. “Are you alright?” She follows her copper gaze to the ring, and blanches when she sees the blood pouring from the feline. Oh no! Returning to her seat, she gnaws on a fingernail, at the ready should the foxkin ask for assistance in healing her wound, though her gaze is glued to the ring. It was getting intense! She hopes that Gilwen and Kahn will make it out of this mostly unscathed, and she’s still hopeful of getting an autograph from Shishi. Gevurah enters the ring, and she hears the emcee’s continuing in their commentary, the elf on bated breath with each physical and magical attack and defense taken.

Gevurah || With Kahn out of harm’s way and water flowing away from the ring after him, Gevurah opens a palm at Gilwen’s face. Instantly a flamethrower as tall as a person shoots forth, singing Gevurah’s own hand as it roars at the plant-loving, weak, pale elf. Because Gevurah is not well versed in controlling this power, the pyromancy stolen from the former Matron Laezila, she can only turn it on and off like a faucet, with no nuance or amazing pyrotechnic feats. Burn, burn, burn, charred to a crisp. She waves her hand to and fro to extinguish Gilwen the Weed. Time to end this match with a little pest control.

Lanara shouted at Shishi, "End this! We need the People's Champ! -I- need an autograph! Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Aira is torn between attempting to find her assailant and keeping her eyes on the escalating fight in the ring. Eventually, the latter wins out as she isn’t sure who sent the shuriken and for all she knows it could have been meant for someone else. She graciously accepts the ale from Lanara when she returns, downing half her glass before she comes up for breath. Blood seeps from under her gauntlet, dripping down her hand and beginning to pool on the ground by her feet. She doesn’t bother checking out her wound or asking Lanara for assistance in healing it. The vixen just wanted this fight to end with Orikahn in one piece.

Gilwen , under normal circumstances, might be upset and perhaps at a loss given the state of her organic weapon, but they enabled her to avoid majority of the pus that soaked Kahn, and had provided a formidable foe for the feline thereafter; she escaped the brunt of his feline spaz attack with nary more than a scratch. Gilwen regretted the loss of her vines the moment Gevurah tagged out the hunter however, but her hands settled on the hilt of her daggers that sat at her hips. And then suddenly, she was enveloped in fire. The pyromancy magic that Gevurah had stolen consumed Gilwen entirely, her lithe figure nothing more than a blurry shadow in the flames. But slowly, the shadows that had attached themselves to her like armor stretched out into long tendrils with gaping maws that seemed to consume the inferno- truth be told, it was an illusion granted by Gilwen’s natural affinity with fire, and where it seemed Shishi’s shadows hungrily ate away the destructive magic, the elf was systematically coaxing the unruly flames into doing her bidding. From within the blaze, a blue blast of fire erupted, chasing its way up the bridge that Gevurah created with her stolen magic and intent on consuming the drow.

Lanara shouted at Gilwen, "Stab Gevurah in the buttcheek like you did to me!"

Shishi flinches as dark voices that only he can can hear erupt in screams of agony when Gevurah’s scythe-dude pulls the shadow boxer away from the drow and then slices it up. Crimson eyes stare across the field of play at the wraith just before it disappears. Hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as the summoned creature re-appears to his left. His first instinct is to gather up more shade and form it into something as a means to block the swing of the weapon, but the shadows refuse to be rounded up just to be slaughtered by this strange darkness reaping spell. He panics and guesses at the attack coming his way. The vampire ducks and the blade of the scythe slices through the air overhead. If the swing had been vertical there would be two halves of a vampire ringside right now. Lucky. The wraith disappears and appears in the same manner three more times. The first two times, Shishi narrowly avoids being decapitated, and the third time the assassin is just a little late in his reaction and the tip of the scythe rips through his right bicep, splattering blood and leaving a piece of meat on the ground when the creature disappears again. Teeth gritting in pain, the vampire makes one more guess, this time it is about just where the summoning will appear next, and he throws a nasty left hook with his fist cloaked in malicious shadows at thin air, and as dumb luck would have it the wraith materializes right into the path of the punch, so well timed that the thing practically appears with Shishi’s fist -inside- its face! If The Blue Demon weren’t currently missing part of his right arm he would be celebrating with the crowd about how awesome that was.

Meri :: As far as Meri as concerned this fight needs to come to an end. From the start, things were a little underhanded and shady but things are quickly escalating out of control. “Alright that is enough!” Meri’s voice calls out to the combatants, just moments before Gilwen is consumed by Gevurah’s flames. Could they even hear her? Did they even care? She would give them a second to heed her orders, even shout it out again. However, Shishi loomed like he was about to lose an arm....And as blonde as Meri may be, there is a drow and an elf in the same battle. She is surprised that things did not get even more out of hand. Just to be safe, the psion will put her telekinetic abilities to good use in a bid to separate the combatants back to their respective teams so that she can announce the winner. If she gets her way, Gilwen and Gevurah will be escorted to the side of the ring by some unseen force. They are both deposited nicely, even Gevurah, provided they do not sneak out of Meri’s psionic grasp. Shishi and Orikahn are left alone, provided they remain on the sidelines. Hopefully she has the attention of both audience and fighters at this point. As loud as she shouts and as much as she tries to project her voice, there is a chance that her announcement may not be clearly heard by those in the back of the stands. So to make sure they get the memo as well, she points to the victors. “Gilwen and Shishi are the champions of this fight.” How did she make this assessment? Well the truth is...Neither Gilwen and Shishi are drow. So. You know, haters going to hate, bad experiences with drow in the past and what not. Meri is a little racist sometimes, frakkin’ drow, stupid mermaids. Whatever. It happens.

Orikahn washes up in a bedraggled pile over the low curb that is the ring's edge. He spits out a mouthfull of mixed drinks in a meager fountain. The dark magic that had consumed him washes away in a big inky stain, leaving him sore, sopping, and drained. What a fight. Did they win? It's hard to tell with beer in his ear.

Lanara applauds Meri’s decision, the elf in perfect agreement with her choice, and also, racist towards the drow. “Go Shishi and Gilwen!!!” She hadn’t even bet a single gold coin on this fight, though the way she was whistling and clapping, one would think she had hit the lottery. Eventually, she sobers, and looks at Aira. “How is your arm? And… I’m sorry that Kahn didn’t win. I blame his partner. It’s all her fault! He gave a valiant effort.” Nodding, she motions towards the ring. “Shall I help you, or do you want to heal him on your own?” Looking at the vampire, she hopes she’ll have enough time to score an autograph.

Gevurah , watching shadows consume her flamethrower, reaches into her bottomless satchel for iron dust, her favorite reagent in close and quick combat. As a blue flame forms within Gilwen’s shadowy blaze, the drow fans her flame resistant piwafwi before her to protect herself from fire, and with that same hand dusts the cloak with iron. Her free hand unfastens the clasp at her throat as she utters a transmutation spell. The fabric hardens to iron, like a shield, but weighs no more than it did when it hung on her shoulders. Gevurah utters a second spell, calling on her God to lend her a sliver of His strength and speed. Juuuuuust as Meri calls the fight over, the drow lunges forward with enhanced agility and brawn to knock Gilwen back with the iron cloak-shield serving as her plow. She’s yanked back by Meri’s telekinesis before she makes contact. Once released, Gevurah backpedals away from the elf while maintaining her glare. “Catch me outside,” she says, “for a real fight.”

Gevurah smiles darkly at Meri. "Your judgment is poor, but I'm a good sport. So, will the "winners"," Gevurah literally air quotes here, "be awarded their prizes now?"

Aira is disappointed that Orikahn didn’t win the match but secretly she’s thankful it’s over and done with. When Lanara poses her question she looks down at her bloodied hand and shakes her head. “I’m fine.” And now she had a nice shuriken to add to her weapons! “I got it,” Aira says, pushing herself to a stand and gesturing towards Kahn. “I’ll see you around Lanara,” she calls over her shoulder to her frenemy, distracted and moving towards the washed up feline. If she gets close enough to the prime hunter, the vixen would crouch beside him, handing over his wineskin. He could probably use a drink.

Zedidiah cheers for Shishi and Friends, the favorite team. His hope that Orikahn would have somehow also won is dashed, but at least Gevurah lost. That's what is most important.

Brennia hopped down from the wall and greeted the crowd with a big smile as she brings the prize to the winners, “you be ‘earin it ‘here folks! Da winnar of tonight’s fight be Shishi and Gilahwhen!” The crowd goes absolutely wild and Charlise holds up the arm of the winner one after the other then hands them their very own pack of Manticore quills.

Shishi has never seen anyone get up from being punched -inside- their face, but that wraith disappears just as Meri calls the fight… And then appears again, seemingly unhurt, behind the vampire. He curses and leaps awkwardly forward into the ring now that he is allowed to. Luckily that spell can’t follow him in thanks to the limit on the priestess’s conjuring. It gives chase, but does not break the plane of the graveyard dirt spread by the drow summoner. It appears that Shishi is safe from that thing where he is, but he won’t take his crimson eyes off of it just yet while he presses the sleeve of his shirt painfully and uselessly into the large wound on his right arm.

Gilwen 's magical barrage died, the fuel depleted, when Gevurah cut off her flamethrower attack. The shadows had vanished, either burned away by the fire, or willingly departing of their own volition- she wasn't sure how shadow magic worked. Her hair was curlier, and shorter in places where the fire had burned too hot for too long, and areas of her clothing were singed and holey. The pressure of Meri's magic was felt, and she willingly allowed herself to be herded off to her respective corner. She would have spit at the drow, were she not afraid that it would be flung back at her by the magic that pressed against her.

Shishi said to Charlise, "Ow! My arm!"

Lanara nods and watches as the foxkin nears the feline, extending a wineskin to her mate, and she smiles. It was such a sweet gesture, and for a moment her mind wanders to a certain green-skinned individual. She’s thankful that it wasn’t him in the ring, for her heart couldn’t handle seeing her beloved injured. Unfolding a ‘Shishi’ poster from her satchel, Lana waits for an opportune moment to approach the vampire, likely after the prizes are issued to the winners. Then it would be her moment. She hopes she doesn’t fangirl too hard.

Brennia rolls her bored teal eyes, “oh sucket up ya big bebe! Ya won!”

Orikahn twists around into a sitting position and tries to pump his ear clear with the padded heel of his palm. What was that? The hubbub of the crowd shuffling out takes the place of the cheers and boos that had previously run through the stadium, and amid this, a familiar vixen arrives by his side. Kahn grins halfheartedly (albeit genuinely pleased) at the sight of her. He accepts the wineskin with gratitude. "Pity. Those manticore quills would have come quite handy." Resigned, he takes a sturdy pull.

Gevurah leaves the wraithen reaper active on the off chance Shishi is dumb enough to step outside the ring. It'll vanish within the next ten minutes on its own, as it is not permanent. Nothing summoned that quickly could be. The priestess walks over to Kahn, nods to Aira indifferently, and places a hand on Kahn's shoulder. She dispels the remaining traces of necrosis then follows up with a light healing spell. She isn't a talented healer, but all priests have some skill in that art, even a drow priest of Vakmatharas. As she resets Kahn from sharp pain to dull ache, she watches Meri and the ushers, waiting for the prize to be brought forth.

Gilwen looked over Shishi's arm, judging it's severity with a careful eye. "You'll live."

Gevurah finally spies the manticore quills. She pats Kahn on the shoulder twice by way of goodbye, joins the ring, and points at Shishi and Gilwen. A black symbol hovers before her hand, the Vakmatharas symbol of pain. "Give me the quills. Keep your titles and your life, and give me the quills."

Shishi forces a grin towards Brennia when she tells him to stop complaining, then he angles that same expression towards Gilwen while adding, “Told you it’d be easy.” Then he’s looking at that looming wraith again. Prize package in hand, he tip-toes off to one side of the ring, away from the wraith, which disappears and reappears right in front of him, waiting for the vampire to get in range. Shishi puffs out his cheeks and slumps his shoulders. Sorry fans, he can’t exit the arena to meet and greet just yet.

Lanara is silently fuming as Gevurah steps back into the ring, and threatens the two winners. That drow didn’t know when to quit! She was delaying her autograph!!!

Meri lingers around in the center of the ring even though the fight is over, just on the off chance things suddenly get out of hand again. It looks like Shishi may still be having problems with that wraith even though Meri has called the fight. And so, to Gevurah, who is trying to intimidate Gilwen and Shishi into handing over their prizes. “Fights over, which means it is time to put your little friend away and go away. Be an honorable little loser and show yourself out, or else we will have you shown out.”

Gilwen quickly took the prize Brennia had brought out, but Gevurah's highwayman tactics stopped her from not only enjoying her victory, but leaving as well. She had wanted to avoid any potential political backlash from the drow, because they're terrible. She looked from her quills, to Shishi and the wraith, and then to the black symbol that hovers before the priestess' hand. "I think we got a little time before that thing will leave you alone," Gilwen murmured, her brows arched in silent suggestion.

Gevurah , without shifting her gaze towards her new target, turns the pain symbol on Meri and releases it like a stone fired from a sling. If the symbol collides with Meri's body, anywhere, her entire body will be racked with excruciating pain, of the intensity that makes you wish for something stronger than opium. To Shishi and Gilwen she says, "Are the quills really worth fighting me." There's no upstick in her question because she utters it like a statement. Of course it's not worth it. She reloads her weapon: an outstretched hand bearing the symbol of pain.

Aira gives Orikahn a half-hearted smirk of her own. “Can’t win them all, Kitty.” She nods to Gevurah when the matron comes near and does some minor healing on the feline before approaching the others, making her demands. When the marshall attempts to intervene and Gevurah sends that symbol Meri’s way, the vixen shoots the prime hunter a concerned look.

Scandal grabbed silencia when she came down throttling her by the neck, "The hell, were you doing!" He said his grip tightning lifting her off the floor despite she being larger than him by almost 6'. "What you wanted!" She rasped. "Your lucky she still lives, otherwise, every single person in that arena would have a bone to pick with me, I am already likely on her most hated list, I don't need more people to write a list." He said throwing silencia across the room, out the expanse, and right into the roof above craugmoyle. He watched her drop from the ceiling into craugmoyle apparently uninjured. 'And to think she's supposed to be the smart one." He said under his breath, he motioned for the other two to follow him which they did, they were leaving craugmoyle, hopefully for the last time, but he knew likely such things were never to last. .

Shishi narrows crimson eyes at Gevurah, who is just as sore a loser as one might imagine. He’s got several quills on him now, and these things are crazy poisonous. If Gevurah wants one so bad… One of the envenomed spines is removed from its container by a wisp of shadow and made to hover in the air. The Blue Demon nods to Gilwen and agrees, “Guess I’m stuck here.” When Gevurah unleashes her painful attack on Meri, Shishi gives her what she wants. The quill shoots forth, point first, like it was shot out of a blow gun, straight for the matron’s chest.

Meri can sometimes put her psionic abilities to good use to thwart magical assaults launched on her. Sometimes. This was not one of those instances, the symbol hits Meri dead on and easily brings the psion to her knees. She’s a stubborn woman, though, and as excruciating as that pain is? Meri is not going to give any drow scum the satisfaction of hearing her scream. She grits her teeth hard and bares through the pain. Shishi gives the matron what she wants, but not in the fashion that she wants...but Meri is not content with that. There will be pause, long enough for the quill to make or miss it’s mark, and then Meri takes to action herself. She is pissed off and really wants to show Gevurah the door, which she intends to do by harnessing her psionic ability once more and sending a psionic blast at the drow with the goal of throwing her back toward the exit of the arena. Meri would like to ram her into the stands a few times on her way out, but that level of concentration is hard to achieve with the amount of pain she was experiencing. One forceful blast was all she had in her. Scat drow.

Lanara gasps as a distraction from the back garners her attention, her dark hues narrowing on Scandal’s form as he hurls Silencia –threw- the ceiling of the arena. That was going to be a hefty cost to repair the place! She flicks her attention back to the ring, her heart in her mouth, as Shishi does the unthinkable, and gives Gevurah exactly what she wants, and what the drow deserves. The elf is beyond the point of fangirling now, as she jumps to her feet, excitedly applauding this act of sheer brilliance. But, of course, the woman chooses to levitate and avoids taking any quills to her chest. Lana rolls her eyes, “She is such a disgusting drow… A sore –loser- that isn’t worthy of the sausage I earlier spit up, let alone the winnings of Gil and Shishi.” The witch could care less who hears her, she was downright angry, and wanted her autograph.

Orikahn is...grateful? Gevurah's off-kilter healing is better than no healing at all after a bout of ulcerated necrotic whatnot. A shudder, induced by grog and disenchantment alike, runs the length of his spine. He winks, double blinks, takes another sip, and offers the wineskin back to his mate. Pushing himself to his feet, the feline begins wobbling out, looking a little worse-for-wear. He'll have to spend some time replenishing his lives after this. "Can't win 'em all," he echoes back.

Gilwen 's vines that Orikahn had shredded had buried into the earth after having been washed out of the arena by the deluge of beverages, and sprouted anew. Druid magic is an amazing thing. The moment the pain symbol was released at Meri, and then at Shishi, Gilwen called the freshly grown and skinny tendrils of vegetation, and a few lashed out at Gevurah with spiny strikes, having kept their needle like tines, while others reach for her ankles to drag her bodily from the arena.

Gevurah , having successfully hit Meri, let her guard down on the psion. Who can power through that pain to successfully launch another magical assault? Perhaps only someone who has experienced worse pain in her life than even that which Vakmatharas has wrought upon her. The psion’s attack sends Gevurah flying out the entrance. The drow’s small body smacks against Dwarven stone, and in the time it takes for the Matron to gather her wits, guards have assembled outside the arena door which is now closed. They do not dare attack her out of fear of starting an unnecessary war with Trist’oth, and Gevurah refrains from attacking them for the same reason, to avoid a costly war with the dwarves. Underestimating Meri has cost Gevurah dearly. Politics has forced her hand to fold. Soon the wraithen reaper will end his vigil and Shishi will be free to go.

Lanara looks to Meri, then to Gilwen, and finally to the people’s champion, Shishi. Clearing her throat she approaches the ringside, knowing that her services could be needed. “Does anyone need healing?”

Shishi has no magical defenses for this pain type magic, so Gevurah’s spell does exactly what she expects it to do to the vampire. It hits and he doubles over in pain for the duration of the attack on his senses. It is a shame that he doesn’t get to see his enemy go flying thanks to tonight’s marshal, but surely someone can tell him the story (and embellish it) later. When he can get back up, he does and sighs thankfully that the drow and the wraith are gone. Lanara has made her way down to the ring and offers up healing. The assassin points idly to his missing bicep, unsure of whether this woman’s restorative technique is applicable to the undead such as himself. Always an issue to consider when healing a vampire.

Gilwen moved to help Meri to her feet, and only once Lanara had offered her healing, she left the psion to stand on her own after ensuring that she could. The wounds Gilwen suffered were small, and easily dealt with with salve and a bandage. She left with a small salute to Shishi and company.

Meri collapses onto the ring’s floor once Gevurah is gone. Meri was clearly not suffering from any apparent physical injury and yet everything still hurt. But Meri does not speak up, she lets Lanara tend to Gilwen and Shishi. What she does do is lay there a bit longer, before finally finding her footing, congratulating the winners, and then making her way back home to Cal.

Lanara slips beneath the ropes and steps into the ring, approaching the vampire, and gently taking his hand in her own, so that she can tilt his arm to the left and right, eyeing his wound. “Ouch. Looks like it hurts.” Of course it hurts, idiot! Lana seriously needs to stop fangirling over the whole ‘peoples champ’ aspect, and she realizes she’s been holding her breath this whole time. Sighing, she slowly tries to exhale, and not make it look all that obvious that she’s never touched a celebrity before. “Okay. So I need you to trust me. I’m going to use my powers to mend your skin, you will feel some vibrations, tingling, that sort of thing.” She waits for his consent, and closes her eyes, her one hand lacing through his fingers to hold his arm straightened in place, while her opposite hand hovers open palmed over his shredded bicep. Her words are spoken in Sylvan, and a faint glow emits from her fingertips, before shooting into the vampire’s open wound. Being an undead, the power of the Goddess alone wasn’t enough to restore muscle tone, and so Lana uses some of her own life force to feed into the spell, thus enhancing its effectiveness. The light swirls through the length of Shishi’s arm, from his shoulder to his fingers, and the gaping wound is closed, as his muscles and tendons are neatly repaired, and the flesh sutures itself seemingly together, with an invisible thread. As it comes to an end, Lana’s big brown eyes open, and she looks at the male from beneath her long lashes. “How do you feel?” The glow dulls and she lowers her open palm, before releasing his hand entirely, and letting him bend his arm and test it out.

Shishi blinks as he’s healed, his eyes going through the reverse of their accursed color change, back to their usual shade of blue. He whistles in awe of the magic sealing his wound and replacing lost muscles. When Lanara releases his arm and lets him test it out, he flexes a couple times and clenches his fist. He makes the motion of throwing a punch, albeit much slower than the one he hit the wraith with and nods appreciatively. “Pretty good,” he answers the witch before adding, “Thanks.”

Lanara nods, pleased that her healing efforts were put to good use. “That’s great! Um… Can I have an autograph?” Shyly, she hands forth a poster and a pen.

Scandal made his way back as soon as he heard the fight was gone and mostly everyone left, mainly to pay off the dwarves for the damage yet again. "Very sorry, yes I know, Hopefully this should pay it off and also for your anger."

Shishi is caught off guard by the request. Not that he doesn’t sign a bunch of autographs these days, just that one of the healers at the Red Skull Ring has never asked for one. Though it appears that this healer has come from the crowd and isn't an employee. After being taken aback for a second he nods and accepts the poster and pen. He blinks at the illustration of himself and wonders if his hair really looks like that. “Of course.” It is impossible to sign properly in midair, so after a brief gesture to ask permission, to which he doesn’t wait for an answer, the vampire presses the poster against Lanara’s chest and signs ‘Shi’ on his own cheek.

Lanara is momentarily taken aback as he motions that there is nowhere to sign, and without a moment’s hesitation he presses the poster to her chest, just above her cleavage. She wasn’t quite expecting –that- but she wasn’t going to be picky, as she was getting what she most desired, an autograph from the people’s champ. Not many elves could claim to have accomplished such a feat! The pen tickles and she excitedly squeals as he signs his name, gushing over tonight’s events, nearly losing her breath again, “Thank you so much! I’ll heal you anytime you need it! Though I hope you won’t need healing all that often. You’re my hero, Shishi! I’m sorry that I had to cheer for Eirik in your last fight… But he was my, uh, fiancé at the time. So, you know how that goes. But… You’re the true champion.” Her words have come out far too fast, and she’s breaking out in a sweat as she takes back her pen and the poster. Tucking an unruly chestnut lock behind her tapered ear, she bites her lower lip, unsure of what to say next, fearing that she already said far too much. Why did she manage to get so star struck around people of great importance?! Finally, she gives him a warm smile as she finds her words, “I should probably head out, I have to get all the way back to Sage. Have a good night!” She slips beneath the ropes, and makes her way towards the exit, the grin remaining on her face for the entirety of the evening.