Kit tilts his head just slighly, giving Kabuusah a slightly quizzical look. "And do they matter more if the combatants actually faced one another, then?"
"It is just violence. It's a bloody coliseum where people watch fights," Flint says, acting affronted. Even though everything was almost back in its appropriate spot, his extra arms were missing yet again, he could still almost feel the acid burning his skin. He shivered in disgust. "Stupid lizard. Its also slavery. None of us wanted to be here. And why do they keep taking my s~&+." Flint was working on a good rant when the mirror shows an empty chair and their guide gets nervous. He didn't know the significance here so he asks, nudging Kabuusah, "What gives?"
Misriel felt much more in agreement with Flint than any of the others, even if the harshness of his statements gave her pause. But she did not feel it was wise to say so.
"Lizard?" Tekumsah turns to Flint, and his eyes flash with seething, barely-controlled rage. "Maybe we do not agree, that is fine. But never call me lizard." He continues to stare at the human for a few moments longer, then turns to also regard the strange image in the mirror.
Well, they matter... Just not much. Don't count for the challenges. Ignored in case two gladiators are tied in victories. Otherwise, they just used for a dull ranking of sorts. - responded Kabuusah, not too happy. His accent and weird way of speaking was almost distracting.
Not as much, though, as the mirror. Where the empty chair was, now the Tyrant appeared.
She wasn't anything as expected. Tall and slender - but not as tall as Kabuusah and his race - the beautiful elf-looking woman wasn't anything as any of the gladiators expected. She pretty much looked just like a very beautiful, almost angel-like elf woman that they could see walking around in Golarion. Her clothes were of obvious good quality, but she didn't have much jewels, tattoos or painting at all. She spoke brief words, as the crowd cheered, then she sat down and crossed her legs. Slowly the crowd went into silence.
Other than Kabuusah, no one else there could understand what she was saying, but you could swear it had some inflections from Azlanti, even though it sounded very alien.
Finally, after some seconds, the mirror showed the pictures of Misriel and Kit. Misriel's picture faded out, and Kit's blinked for some seconds. They disappeared, and the same happened with Flint's and Tekumsah's: Flint's faded, while Tekumsah's blinked.
You two victorious. - as he pointed to Kit and Tekumsah - You two lost. - his other two arms pointed to Misriel and Flint.
Finally, the mirror disappeared and the entire arena started shaking again.
Other combats start now. You go through there. - said Kabuusah, showing the way to a door on the floor that wasn't there a minute ago - You rest. Soon you'll fight again.
Kit nods, not particularly surprised by the proceedings nor the answers. He notes the similarity to Azlanti with some interest, but her appearance... well, with that kind of power, she can probably look like anything she wants. Does the concept of a 'true form' even apply to her?
"What language was that?" Kit asks as he follows Kabuusah out the door.
Flint's ire raised in tandem to his opponent but dissipated when someone walked on screen. "Wait. That's the Tyrant?" he said in disbelief. He had a hard time believing something so delicate and beautiful had survived this nightmare and then turned around and let it continue. He shook his head to banish the impure thoughts flitting through. Looks could be deceiving. He'd been burned more than once by a wolf in sheep's clothing. Still, it was a pretty woman vs a four armed bug that was being awful dodgy. "So we win three fights and get to take her one huh?"
Misriel still had little to say, her spirit rather thoroughly crushed.
Tekumsah shrugs and moves as indicated. The strange creature might say he won, but Tek knows a defeat when he has one.