The lizard man let out a shudder as he exhaled. Staring into his reflection in the mirror, Frix thought of the battle coming up. He hoped that it would be a large one; he'd be able to hide and wait out the battle with more ease in a chaotic brawl. After rinsing his face in the sink with a clawed hand, he returned his attention to getting prepared.

A dagger and a pistol were laid out upon his table. Hanging on a chair was his signature red headband and scarf; he had to keep up his signature style, after all. Opening a drawer, Frix took out a small, watch like device and strapped it to his wrist. He pressed a button and his skin glinted and faded again as a forcefeild wrapped itself around him. Another button was pressed, a cloaking device activated, and he vanished. Satisfied, he turned off the field and the cloak and checked the battery life: 2 hours left. Plenty of time, he thought to himself.

Putting on his deep red pants and jacket, he observed himself in the mirror. Frix stood six feet three inches tall, and allot of this height came from his long limbs and neck. Turning his long, green head directly around, he checked the clock, nodded and turned it back. He bared his sharp teeth, hissed, and laughed. Moving to the side, he checked his long tail. The lizard man puffed his chest out and admired his profile. Tall, lean, 36 years old, and long, but lightly built- he stood on a scale and hissed at it, a mere 170 pounds for a lizard man! I need to bulk up.

He hid his pistol in his jacket along with three extra bullet packs. Along his waist he carried four thermal bombs and a grappling hook launcher and rope. Frix grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and drank it greedily. He was always nervous before these things. His job as a thief and assassin prepared him well for sneak attacks, but not so much for group combat. Filling the glass again, he sighed.

A group of fans stood up and cheered loudly as the third combatant entered the arena.