She held her right arm out and upwards, bronze hafted halberd in hand with her left bent at the elbow and held crossed over her body. The axe head, the pick opposite and the spear point on the tip were of steel, but the haft was of a single cast and aglow in the dim light of the flaming braziers atop the viewing stands. They didn’t need to be lit, it was day and though no direct sunlight pierced the ashen sky overhead it didn’t require artificial light to see normally. The smell of the smoke produced by the fires was sweet, and was less dark and pungent than translucent and off white. It was all an elaborate depiction of the wealth and power of this place, the capital. Here no expense was spared and every luxury imaginable was indulged. Not only was the light unnecessary, but it was an expensive mixture of scented additives and animal fat boiled into an oil with which to bind the sweet smelling and incredibly expensive incense so that it might permeate the air of those lofty heights, all to the enjoyment of the powerful. They did all this even as they paid a small fortune to coax the champions of the arenas out of retirement to amuse the crowd. 

She saluted the emperor nonetheless. She could make out his image in the gilded box that constituted his throne upon the dais, and though she couldn’t attest to his features she did note his hand make a slight waving gesture to the side. It was her que to get this over with and hurry to die and make way for a more impressive candidate. She did not intend on making this quick, nor did she intend on allowing another the chance at the trophy of the beast’s ears. She had kept an eye on her opponent since she entered the arena, but now gave him her full attention. He was sitting cross legged in the middle of the arena waving her over. He was well armed, two axes, claws on his boots, a blade closer to a short sword than a dagger, two additional daggers, all of which was likely of quality steel, and was even better armored. Hauberk of some foreign construct, breastplate, pauldrons, and rearbraces all of steel plate and in good working order. Must’ve cost a fortune. She knew because she was wearing a nearly identical suit which had been paid for in bronze and leather earned in blood upon the sand of arenas the Empire over. 

The coat of plates she wore over her hauberk of steel lamellar was owned by her employer, though the rest of it had been purchased with the death of opponents just like this one, and she was looking to pay for the luxury with this, her seventeenth victory. Her duty to the emperor over she waved with the head of her halberd at her friendly opponent and slowly began walking toward him. “Good to see you here, friend! I wouldn’t ask for any other to meet me on the sand this day,” she was friendly, warm even in her speech. She’d known these types before. Some growled at you like animals before a fight, others were friendly, some emotionless and stoic. It didn’t take her by surprise anymore. If she was allowed to she would advance to within thirty feet of her opponent, cool and calculated the entire way. She could drop the halberd into a two handed grip in a flash and use the spear point to keep distance between them if he charged her at this distance, and though he could always throw one of the blades her way before leaping to his feet and following up with a ballistic hail of blows from one of the several side arms he carried in addition to his axes she wasn’t too concerned. 

Her armor was sturdy and of good make, she wore a steel half helm and had enough time to be reasonably sure that a thrown axe would find little meaningful purchase. Beyond its value as a distraction and surprise technique meant to cause less well trained opponents to drop their guard and crouch or leap haphazardly about trying to avoid the axe, all the while ignoring the true threat moving towards them with the sharp, deadly precision of a lion, it was unlikely to be as meaningful as simply using it to try and wrest control of the halberd from her at the haft. Her right hand wouldn’t be moving far from her right hip this fight. If he wanted to play at disarming her or forcing her into acrobatics of polearm she would most likely give him the thing. She didn’t have enough fingers on her left hand to match him in a battle of axes versus longsword and dagger. She had, however, loosed her grip on her halberd with her right hand hovering close to her right hip, made contact with her punchblade and struck forward in a blisteringly fast motion made possible by the proximity of hand to blade and blade to opponent in drills ten thousand times over. 

Doubtful she’d use the longsword this go around unless something changed. Things always changed in fights of course, and she was prepared for whatever she might be facing, but as of right now the plan was fairly clear. Use the halberd to keep distance, expect him to try and wrest it from her and, if the timing goes well and both of his axes find themselves on her weapon at the same time and at the right distance, drop the thing and put her punchblade through his belly before he has time to blink. Nothing fancy, nothing hard and nothing smart. Just the basics and a cool head. “You don’t much look like a monster, friend. Don’t personally care if you did kill a bunch of Auxiliaries. I’ll see you given a proper burial after you die,” she would stop talking and allow the halberd to find itself in both of her hands with her left leg and arm forward, her left hand a foot below the head of the axe at her own waist level and her right and rear hand at her own right hip along the length of the halberd spear point toward her opponent if he made any aggressive motion toward her at any point during or before the banter, and would remain with the halberd held high and in only her right hand at a distance of thirty feet should he remain seated.