The glow of Brevka's skin guttered out as she recognized her Acolyte's beautiful, onyx features, but it took her a couple of moments before she could loosen her grip, trembling with more than the cold.
Brevka looked up at Kaxatja, hoping that they were too valuable for this to be a deadly trick. "You net it, and I'll come in for the chop. Sound good Legs?"
She's shaking now. Whether it's from the cold or from fear is difficult to tell.
"...I felt left out." The acolyte finally says, her voice low. The half-orc can feel her racing pulse pressed against her.
"You should be more careful when you play with weapons."
She walked towards the waters edge, Nathrae still held too close to her face, Lyra'an still held curled against her side, and gently lowered them to the pool's rim, first Nathrae, then Lyra'an, softly squeezing her ivory shoulder in what could have been an apology. Breathing hard, Brevka pulled herself out of the plunge as well, chest heaving more from what she was holding in than any exertion. "I'm finished. You're both- You can both..." she looked around her, pacing as she turned, the pale yellows of her eyes still wide and startled. "Where the hells are my- " She shook her head, water droplets spattering the stones around her. "Just- I just need to get dressed and you're done. Bet's over. Service done."
Kaxatja nods, stowing the net in one hand and the trailing rope in the other. She looks hard at the features of the drow, trying to see if she once knew the dead woman. Mostly the drider does not understand how the tied up creature poses a threat. No matter. All will become clear.
”Ready!” she murmurs as she enters the cage.
Lyra'an's eyes scan the drow archer's face, seeking any sign of recognition in her eyes.
A sister perhaps?
She picks up a few of the bows, finding one that felt balanced enough, then fires a rapid succession of arrows at the target. Looking at both targets, she shakes her head with a chuckle.
"Brevka..." she manages, before Nathrae manages to explain. She could feel the storm brewing inside her fellow gladiatrix, barely restrained, the sheer energy of violence crackling in the air, along with Nathrae's own alarm tinged with fear, and her own shock.
As the half off sets them both down and gets out of the water to leave she shares a look with the drow, more than a bit befuddled. "Alright....if that's what you want..." she answers.
[spoiler=The Plunge]Brevka looked over her shoulder at Lyra'an, scars still flickering silver all along her powerful frame. Her mouth dropped barely open, but no words came. She couldn't take them staring at her any longer, so she just grabbed her bundle of clothes and towels and stormed out of the baths, leaving a trail of wet footprints back to her cell.[/spoiler
She rubs her neck with one hand. "Well. That happened." Nathrae gives Lyra'an a somewhat sheepish look. "Didn't expect her to react like that."
Returning the charginned expression Lyra'an shrugs. "If you wished to stay for a while.....I'd be okay with that."
She lies back on the Frigidarium floor, stretching out and sighing.
Lilamma tries different weapons, listening to their sound in the air.
Finally, she selects something unusual for her: a large and heavy greatsword, the blade carefully wrapped in taterred red clothes
I would have put a bell on the handle, Don't know why. Ready for some pain?
She dries off, dresses herself and begins to take her leave.
Between the two of you, Anabel proves to be the better archer--but only slightly. She manages to land two bulls-eyes to the kayal's one.
The trainer claps her hands. "Impressive! Glad to see a couple of gladiators who can shoot straight."
"So, I suppose that means the kayal owes the darthiir?" She chuckles.
---------------------
Kamala glares at you and squares up.
The trainer raises his hand. "FIGHT!"
The Mwangi tribeswoman promptly lunges at you under the cover of her shield!
Her training spear strikes you in the thigh, leaving a good bruise.
---------------------
Corazen ushers the two of you into the arena after you get your weapons. "FIGHT!"
The undead drow snarls and thrashes.
It then howls and lunges at the half-orc, its claws flailing!
A filth-encrusted claw rakes across her bicep.
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Anabel giggles and claps her hands at her victory, the mongoose chittering encouragement. "Oh! I won!"
She taps her lips as she considers Lyra'an. "Hmmm... What sort of forfeit should I ask of you, then?"
Brevka curses under her breath in orcish at the sting in her arm, but she just elbows the horror back to give herself room to swing, and unleashes a brutal chop, her scars' silvery light reflecting off her blade.
"What happened to netting it, Legs?!"
Brevka's violent swing shears through the beast's ribcage, causing it to stumble. Somehow, it's still standing.
Kaxatja frowns, sluggish in this battle.
"Working on it!"
She adroitly throws the net, then using her retiarius training moves and pulls on the trailing rope to hold the creature back from Brevka.
That was close... But not close enough.
THAT wasn't close at all... Let's try again!
The net closes around the huecuva...
...but the undead creature throws itself into another rage and yanks against the net, throwing itself at Brevka again!
The drider's net keeps the undead thing from harming Brevka, its claws thrashing about with restricted abandon.
--------------
Kamala bats your greatsword aside and stabs with her training spear again!
It's easy enough to avoid now that you've seen it coming. You twist aside from it.
If you think that will be enough to stop me... I'll soon bash your brains out with that sword. If you have some brains to start with.
Lilamma mocks the gladiator's prowess and might, as the blow doesn't seems to wound her that much. The tiefling makes a show of the sword power.
Kamala purses her lips and lunges at you again.
Evidently, your words have unnerved her somewhat--you're able to dodge her stab just as easily as before.
Lilamma spins like a whirlwind, and bashes her opponent's skull with the sword, leaving quite a mark
Do you accept the gift of Zon-Kuthon?
Your blow rocks Kamala, causing her to stagger and turtle up behind her shield.
Lilamma steps back and cast a quick spell, hoping to get her foe out balance
Brevka whips her blade across the dead thing's body in a vicious backhand before once more backing away, trying to draw the creature towards her to wear Kaxatja can get it from behind!
Brevka's follow-up cleaves the huecuva in two from the waist down. It crumples with a sigh.
Corazen claps once. "Well struck."
------------------
Kamala wobbles, but remains behind her shield. You can tell the magic has taken hold of her.
Kaxatja breathes out, not realising she had been holding her breath. She skitters down close to the twain’d body and casually removes tangled body parts from her net. Rising again, she nods to Brevka and shakes the blood and ichor from the net.
”I was slow.” she says matter of factly, then ducks out of the cage, staring at Corazen with an inscrutable mien, eyes wide, lips pursed.
Lilamma grin widens.
She starts to sing, a wicked song, full of harsh consonnants, of scathing words, praising her dark lord for the pain to come.
The final notes erupt from her distorded mouth, and cuts at Kamala's flesh.
Brevka sags as the energy rushes from her body. "Better late than never," she grins wearily. She looks up, considering for a moment, "You would have gotten it eventually. I just sped things up."
Kaxatja nods. "A good thing for us. We will always need you to finish "things" quickly. If Anabel can sing us to power and Lilamma sing our enemies pain, you and Lyra'an cut and slice. I can aid where possible to tangle and impede, but I am neither very strong nor much trained. And quite...fragile." To illustrate the point the drider flexes up and down on her arachnid legs.
"I need training. Expertise born of experience. Before I was like this I was a poet, an artisan, a daughter of luxury and langour. Nights of lassitude. So. I need my new sisters to train me. To keep me alive long enough to keep them alive. Or die trying."
'Nights of lassitude,' 'luxury and languor.' It hardly meant anything to Brevka. Truthfully she'd only barely been able to figure some of it out from context.
Quietly she looked to make sure Corazen wasn't listening too intently
"I don't know how recently you changed, but... we'll give you the time you need."
She reached out and tore off a piece of the dead thing's tunic to clean her blade, and after a moment or two she asked what she'd really been wondering. "Your poems... were they good?"
"Probably not. If they were, I would not be here. A pampered life leaves one with very little to write about." the drider confides.
"That's too bad." She gave a small smile, baring her left tusk. "I like poems."
Anabel giggles and claps her hands at her victory, the mongoose chittering encouragement. "Oh! I won!"
She taps her lips as she considers Lyra'an. "Hmmm... What sort of forfeit should I ask of you, then?"
Lyra'an flashes the elf a smile. ”That’s entirely up to you, winner gets to choose the stakes.” she says with a grin.
Anabel smiles. "Very well. Since I can't decide right now, I'll ask for a future favor, to be determined later. Sound good?"
"I have not seen you train--nor have I seen you fight. I should have expected you wouldn't like being jumped on."
Her thoughts seemed to move so slowly. Brevka knew that she needed to respond, needed to grab this advantage, but it was like the chill of the water had seeped into her mind. That moment of terror when she realized just how far she'd dropped her guard... She suppressed a shiver, though the cold might still have excused it.
Never give your captor more power than they've taken. She's here; you did something. Do something!
She nodded minutely, chin resting on the thin cushion of her pallet, and pushed herself off the damp, wadded towels to stand in the center of the cell.
Best if they think you're loyal and bribable. Fine if they think you're wild but distractable. Don't tell them you're afraid.
The cell wasn't large; one more of her strides took Brevka to where Nathrae leaned. She nodded again at Nathrae's apology, stronger this time, eyes filled with something that crackled. She bent her head down, holding Nathrae's gaze with her own for a moment, before leaning in to kiss her, tusks scraping gently against the drow's soft skin as the kiss slowly demanded more and more intensity. Her arm slid round the elf's slender waist, her strong hand pressing against the smooth lines of Nathrae's back to hold her close. Brevka pulled back, releasing last of all Nathrae's lower lip from between the teeth that wouldn't break her skin. "Thank you for your... apology." She was slower still to release her hold on Nathrae's back, but reluctantly she did that as well, a flicker of amusement crossing her face as she looked at the discolored patches on Nathrae's robes, where she had been pressed up against Brevka's damp body.
"But now I really do need to rest. I'll see you after my next victory, Acolyte."
Lyra'an looks on with interest as Brevka strides over after a bit, and kisses the drow with surprising gentleness and no small amount of passion. There was definitely something there.
As they part and Brevka lets her go, the kayal looks at the two wome with a smirk, Have a good rest 'Princess', Nathrae."[/b] she says with a nod as a little smile as she leaves to head to her room.
"Works for me." the fetchling says flashing Anabel her signature grin
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She smirks and leans in to whisper in Brevka's ear. "I'll be watching." She punctuates it with a lick of her ear before turning and leaving the cell.
-------------------
Kamala collapses as the song reaches its crescendo, bleeding from multiple wounds. An acolyte rushes over to keep her from dying outright, channeling Nurgal's power into her maimed body.
When you look at the trainer, he's glaring venomously between you and Kamala, not saying a word.
-------------------
Corazen waves the two of you over. "Yes, yes, well-fought and all that. Now, let's see how well you can do against a proper *living* target."
With that, he starts directing a couple of slaves towards the beast pens with one hand while calling over an acolyte of Nurgal with the other. She approaches the injured Brevka and lays a hand on her bicep.
Incidentally, you notice that it's Nathrae healing your wound. She's going about it with the same stoic professionalism she used bathing you.
---------------
The trainer smirks at the two of you. "Right! Now, let's see how you do with a moving target, shall we?"
She turns and barks across the Exhibition Grounds. "EREVAS! GET OVER HERE!"
Anabel blanches at the trainer's call. "Erevas..." she says quietly. The mongoose shakes his head back and forth.
The smile is vicious.
That was a sound tactic...
Lilamma salutes the crowd, gyrating and posing despite the heavy sword
Brevka nodded impassively, only her eyes barely twitching towards what might have become a smile. "Thank you for your service, Acolyte." She rolled her arm, stretching and flexing it to make sure the healing had taken, making a bit of a face at some phantom twinge. "Good enough."
Without stepping away she turned her back on the acolyte and looked up at Kaxatja. "Ready for the beast, Legs? Or at least to start work on a new epic?"
”Yes. “The Princess and the Spider”. Let us ensure it ends with both living.” Kaxatja returns coyly. She swishes the heavy net with practiced ease, trident held at the ready.
The two slaves return, dragging a particularly angry-sounding *chittering* creature behind them with two lengths of spider-silk rope. Attached to the ropes is a pale, round-bodied spider the size of a man. Its red eyes glitter with anger as the slaves promptly make their escape.
"A moon spider." Corazen glances at Kaxatja. "Don't worry--it's nobody you know."
"Strike it down." The doctore raises his arm. "FIGHT!"
The trainer watches your sword-dance with an arched eyebrow... and perhaps a bit of interest, despite his annoyance.
"...of course." He wrinkles his nose as Kamala struggles back to her feet. He turns to the acolyte. "Send the human over to the palus. Luck isn't enough when your enemy has magic."
"And as for you--" He turns back to you. "--report to the obstacle course." He points to the northwest of the arena.
---------------------
The uneasy-looking Erevas meekly approaches the archery range. "Yes?"
The trainer smirks and twirls her crossbow. "Stand at the end of the range. I've seen your footwork in the arena--you really need to improve your dodging skills."
His face turns white, but he doesn't protest. He's visibly shaking as he takes up a position at the end of the range.
"You two--" She looks back at Anabel & Lyra'an. "--practice arrows only. Your job is to shoot him--his job is to avoid getting shot. You each have five shots. Go one at a time."
Anabel takes a deep breath as she readies her bow. She whispers an apology in Elven before opening fire!
Kaxatja disdains the net, moving around to set up a flank she thrusts bodily at the pale arachnid with her trident...
The drider's trident strikes the moon spider before it has a chance to get ready, causing it to thrash and retaliate with a bite of its own.
Unfortunately, its mandibles only find the cold steel of Kaxatja's trident.
Anabel's shots are unsteady, for the most part--her reluctance to shoot Erevas is quite obvious. The man nimbly dodges her first two shots, but after glancing at the trainer, stumbles into the path of her third arrow.
It clips him in the thigh, but he easily recovers in time to dodge Anabel's wild fourth shot.
The trainer looks at Anabel with a confused and annoyed expression. "Are you even aiming?"
Anabel's final shot hits Erevas right in the gut.
The wind is knocked out of the elf in a terrified wheeze, and he collapses into the dirt holding his stomach.
"Right." The trainer waves an acolyte over to have Erevas healed.
It takes a couple of spells to get him back on his feet. "Right. Good shot. Kayal?"