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[color=orange][h2][b]The Arena, Before dusk in Alvion, Thunderstorm[/b][/h2][/color][img]https://i.imgur.com/BM8vRzc.jpg[/img]

[@Spiffy]

  The thunderstorm had made the field opaque, face splashed with the salted rain, seeing even a few feet in front of Cicero himself was nigh implausible. Even the crowds only had the clash of metal to foretell anything about the duel...

  The blow struck true, metal chewed through soft unprotected flesh and bit bone before it was shunted off to the side with an axe. Even though Cicero's grip on his sword loosened - for the first time in this match, blood was drawn. It was far from a deciding move but first blood is one of the most impactful way to show skill in the arena. It was a shame that the crowd did not see it, even the most seasoned gladiator would still feel a certain warmth when they cheered - only the pitter patter of heavy rain and hushed whispers reached his ears.

  His enemy, on the other hand, felt slighted. Not just physically, even if blood and rain painted his shoulders like a tilted wine barrel. He screamed, pain and insult, his paranoia showing for the crowds to stop cheering Cicero on. But they weren't. In this 'rage', Rhakkast felt like his eyes would pop as his infernal blood swelled, he literally saw red. 

 ...and as if the heavens themselves played to the tune of battle. Lightning flashed across the horizon in the ensuing deluge, Rhakkast wailed as he hammered on Cicero with his axes giving no chance for Cicero to strike back or move lest he was willing expose himself to this frenzied attack. 



 The knight could feel the sheer intensity of each strike through his shield, alongside with the now slippery floor, his injuries, the deafening ring of metal against metal ...just how long could he hold out?
  

  Then suddenly as another series lightning flashes blinded him, Cicero felt a tug in his right palm and when he looked, 







.......his sword was no longer there.

[hr]
[@Cyrania]

In a distance beyond the bitter steam that was pouring out of her waterskin, the flashes of lightning highlighted Therian's silhouette to her:

[i]Him sitting on his makeshift throne.

Him almost standing up.

Him rolling over with a long object struck through him.

Him falling over the edge and a loud sickening thud.
[/i]



  Then, for the briefest of moments, she thought she saw the outline of a man where the rain would not touch right behind the throne. But before she could take a second glance, it was gone. The guardsmen beside him did not even realize Therian was gone until a few moments too late from wiping their brow profusely, then someone shouted. 

[b][color=black]"The king ...! Thhat's Cicero ...his sword ...him! HE'S DEAD!! He killed him!"[/color][/b]


[hr]
[@Spiffy]

  [img]https://i.imgur.com/5IPyyba.jpg[/img]



 Plunked right beside him, fallen off the stands, lay the lifeless corpse of their monarch. His eyes still open, his face showing a blank expression and Cicero's sword sticking out handle first from his stomach. A pool of dark liquid gathered where the king lay undignified.

  Rhakkast was nowhere to be found, a quickly fading trail of blood led to the closing gate he came from...

  A fluster of screams and shouts barraged the field, it was hard to tell what they were saying in the utter bedlam but no doubt a throng of soldiers would descend upon them in a matter of brief moments as the tolling horn was sounded.

  [i][color=black]"The Witch, She made the rain"[/color] "We saw it!"[/i]


[hr]

  No one seemed to notice but the air seemed to clear once Therian had fallen, the downpour slowly relented.

  Crossbows from the two guardsmen turned to face where they thought Gwyneira's hand was outstretched holding the waterskin, winding and ready to fire the moment she left the safety of her tent, they would let the reinforcements handle Cicero who was too near the base of the wall they stood on to take proper aim at him.

  

  [/center]

  


[hider=Hider note]

You all have 20 seconds to react before they start flooding the coliseum with guards, know that morals in those days are lax compared to today. The whole capture and question thing is often less regarded than the Kill and worry later protocol especially when their monarchs were involved, modern sensibilities are a recent thing.

Colour codes in dialogue mean they are spoken by the same character previously using that colour code.

Act with those mere 20 seconds in mind.
[/hider]