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[color=e6579e]"Fucking hell..."[/color]

Those particularly non magical girl-like words were the first thing Sarah uttered as her surroundings swam into view. Steel bars. One of those infernal rocks embedded into the floor. And, just her luck, a cheering crowd that made her head pound in pain. Of course her dumb costume had let her down yet again, giving those mercenaries the upper hand.

She reached into the dream, attempting to access her wand and healing magic - a possible concussion wasn't something to take lightly - only for her headache to spike. Groaning and pressing her hand to her forehead, she slumped against the bars. She could feel dried blood running down her left temple to her jawbone, flaking to the metal floor from her touch.

Her fingers clenched into fists as the wannabe warlord made the hammiest announcement he could. A show. A brawl. And a reward. Her eyes flicked towards a crystalline gleam she recognised all too well. Something in her leapt at the promise of food and shelter. Literally selling souls wasn't the most ethical line of work, but ethics and survival rarely went hand in hand. She'd had that drummed into her from a young age. Yet the pit of her stomach twisted in revulsion at the thought, an annoying sensation she'd had to deal with since she'd gotten her dream.

The audience's chants, as if they worshipped this 'Lord Morski', exacerbated said sensation. [color=e6579e]"Fine,"[/color] Sarah snarled, sweeping her glare over the gathering. [color=e6579e]"You want a show? How 'bout this?"[/color] She flipped off the crowd, which only seemed to fuel the fire as their cheers grew louder, punctuated only by a metallic clang. She stared over at the Dreamer who'd kicked down the door of his cage, the Dreamer she recognised. It took a second or two to place him. The brother of a Dreamer she'd worked with in the past.

[color=e6579e]"Richtor?!"[/color] The moment of bewilderment was all it took for the other doors to swing open. Hurrying out only to fall to her knees as the arena blurred, she closed her eyes and drew upon the dream. Images surfaced in her mind - a pastel hued kingdom, warriors of light pitted against denizens of darkness. In a flash of pink light, a wand that looked like a plastic children's toy appeared in her hand, the tip heart-shaped. As she held it to her forehead, it glowed, the pain fading while the wound closed.

[color=e6579e]"Anyone else need healing?"[/color] She glanced from Dreamer to Dreamer, one of whom stood beneath a formidable being consisting of mostly eyes. She resisted to the urge to shrink back, not fancying her chances against said summoner, to say the least. [color=e6579e]"Don't get the wrong idea. It's just to make sure it's a fair fight, so don't any of you dare think I'll go easy on you."[/color]