The arena was where life and death was decided. Skill, luck and sheer determination was the razors edge one walked when trying to survive this harsh crucible. Selandra had spent centuries in the blood filled womb of the pit, reborn anew as an agent of battle. Now would be the moment that she danced the deadly dance with another victim of this carnage. 

Standing in the forty foot wide arena, the clouds were dark and her mood even darker. Rain would be upon them at any moment, which always made these battles more bothersome. The cheers of the crowd rang clear, their desire for blood as thick as the clouds above. Only one thing would satisfy these cretins, for one warrior to fall dead upon the ground.

Twenty feet away from her, her opponent stood. Both of them were veterans of combat, but Selandra was determined to walk out of this place alive and breathing. With her trident in her left hand and her net in her right, she felt ready for battle. The horn sounded, and she knew the fight had begun, but she would not charge in, not yet.

[@Doc Doctor]