She nodded to the elf, as to say don't worry about it. Although as civilized as Rias was, she was still an Orc, and she still had a little bit of an anger issue, so she was going to chop the head of that Dark Elf the first chance she got.

Kiba was too quick for these people, theyd be dead before they got a chance to raise ther weapon "I am so going to win" kiba was confindent

Rias shook her head.

"Be careful, with that ego in your way, you may not see the weapon aimed at your head"

Katrina yawned and sat down against the wall. She coughed and waved her hand around as a cloud of dust rose up to greet her. She looked over at Aurora. She almost felt sorry for the little Breton. She didn't seem to belong in this arena full of blood and dust.

Katrina had an idea and stood up. She strode over to where the Breton was sitting and sat near her.
"Why are you in here?" Katrina asked in a kind tone. Perhaps she could befriend her and learn her tactics. If not, at least she might comfort her until the end.

Kiba opened her and a fire surround it "i thought we were.on teams" she mouthed

SHe laughed softly

"Of course, Just giving you a tip"

"hmmm.. ok." kiba was wary of the femme orc,

"While one says that talking is cruel, because it'll make it harder to kill each other, the other decides to hit up a conversation?" He glances at the imperial. "One who asks of such a question should be the first to answer it. So, imperial, why are you here?"

As the condemned mingle, bicker and argue, the distinct sound of an opening gate could be heard above all else. Daylight poured forth from the stairs, the way to the Arena was open and beckoned as if death itself held his arms wide to embrace them. Tentatively the prisoners made their way to the stairs with what weapons they found. Crude things, quality steel not to be wasted on those already proclaimed dead. The daylight was blinding to their eyes having been adjusted to the dark depths of the dungeons and the pit. Each step felt like an eternity as they ascended. Once through the doorway they found themselves standing on the blood stained sand of the Arena floor and all around them in the stands stood citizens of the Imperial City.

"LAAADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! WELCOME.. TO THE ARENA!!!" the announcer shouted. "Today we have a special occasion. Look now to the sands and behold the vilest of criminals from across Cyrodiil!!" the masses shouted, cursed and berated the prisoners. Some even being so bold as to throw food and rocks their way.
"Good people, do not let their foul appearance dissuade you from your entertainment!! For it is on these sands that these wretched souls will breathe their last breath and trouble the Empire no more!! I present to you, the YELLOW TEAM!!!" The whole of the arena stood and cheered, whistling, hooting and clapping as the gate on the opposite end rose and out came the Gladiators of Yellow Team. Fourteen in all of various races wielding weapons of much higher quality than the shoddy iron provided for the prisoners. One man exited behind the gladiators, a blonde headed Imperial wearing the rags of a prisoner.

The Yellow gladiators all raised their weapons high and soaked in the cheers. One stepped forward, a large Nord wielding a Dwarven Claymore. "People of the Imperial City! Do you seek entertainment!? Do you seek blood?! Do.. you.. seek… JUSTICE?!?!" The crowd roared with every word. "Then you shall have it all!" Further cheer erupted form the crowd as the gladiators faced the prisoners and readied their weapons, two spell casters could be seen readying destructive magic and an archer knocked an arrow to his bow aimed for the large male Orc.

"LET THE BLOODLETTING, BEGIN!!" the yellow team charged and the archer let fly his arrow.

Through it all, Dralith Da'seloth watched from the stands but remained silent. He sat leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped before him. His two Akaviri Katanas were sheathed and within arms reach leaning against the balcony rail. Jauffre and Martin had been skeptical about this and outright disapproved but he knew better. Some of the most able bodied men and women could be found in a dungeon. Dralith himself was proof of this. The hero of Kvatch would sit and wait for the battle to unfold. If they died then so be it but if they managed to survive this ordeal.. perhaps they could be convinced to join the cause.

Kiba saw the arrow flying to her and used her sword to deflect it.

Henry was a person who would never be surprised for more than a few heartbeats. He was a person that always had a smile on his face. At least a tiny one. His eyes would always laugh if someone looked at him. After the fight in the bar, after he got captured, he couldn't help but try to hide his laughter. "Sentenced to death for singing daedric songs" - he thought, thinking how hilarious that was.

He was led to the Arena pits a little bit later than everyone else. Almost as the fight was about to start. What he saw there was no fear, no tears. Well, there was this one Breton that seemed rather distant from everyone else. But that was only an impurity in the chemical mixture, that was the atmosphere in the room. It was full of anger. Anyone could sense some rivalry in there too. Also something else. However, there was this one particular feeling here that Henry felt. Stronger than all of the others combined. Certainty. Everyone was too certain in here. Certain of their fate. Certain of their crime. Certain of death.

For that moment, that single moment, Henry's smirk vanished. He looked around the arena pits and quickly took something that reminded him of a spear, though it was more of an overused and broken halberd. Just as he did that, the Arena gates opened and he was about to enter the stage for a performance. "One last performance if the guards are to be believed" - thought Henry as he was ascending the steps, yet he did not believe that.

Inside the Arena Henry's smile crawled up back on his face. The audience was shouting and cheering.
"That's my place, for sure" - he said silently, thinking of the numerous songs he sang during his lifetime to a variety of cultures - "Though this time, the audience is bigger."

After the brief introduction given by the announcer, Henry quickly found himself wondering if these people around him should be considered as allies or as foes. Not wanting to be stabbed in the back, he ran to the side of the Arena right before he heard the the Announcer giving the command to start the battle. Somewhere behind he hear an arrow cut through the air. After spinning his so called spear twice and pointing it towards the center of the Arena, he stood in a fighting position, trying to better understand the situation he got himself into.

Katrina jumped as she saw the arrow fly past. She looked at the incoming targets, and her shoulders slumped slightly. How were they going to win this fight? She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders. She glanced towards the Bosmer and said, "I saved a village. That's all you need to know."

She jumped to her feet and gripped her sword firmly. Never before had she truly had to fight an opponent who had an advantage like this. She raised her sword defensively and cautiously stepped into the arena and around the edge, preferring not to rush towards the fight.

Kiba shouted "Pick the yellow team off first, then deal with each other."

Rias's eyes glanced around the arena. She was terrified, she hid it well though. Her stance more defensive then offensive. She held her war axes tightly and her eyes hardened, ready to attack.

Daric walked out in front of the roaring crowd. He heard many heckles, but also many roars of joy. He looked at the opposite team and then at the 'team-mates' that he had been stuck with. The Elf deflected an arrow with her sword, he sort of hoped she hadn't. She seemed overly cocky for someone who didn't even know about the monarchy of the land she had been imprisoned in. Probably all bark and no bite. Everyone seemed to get in a stance of their own but not attack. If they weren't quick the archer would pick them off like stabbing mudcrabs in a barrel. Daric spun the sword around in his hand before making the rather brash decision of sprinting towards the enemy team.

He aimed for the spellcasters, readying a heat blast in his hand in case he was met with any such difficulty in slashing at them. He dodged under the swing of the nord's claymore and leaped over an arrow heading for his ankle. He felt the familiar sting of a weak firebolt spell hit him and give him more magicka to use against the mages. His race's skin made him particularly resistant to magic spells actually damaging him. He basically threw his shortsword at the mage. It whistled through the air before embedding itself through one of the mage's legs. It sent him flying to the floor and to a quick death after it allowed Daric to burn the mage's face with the spell he had readied.

He retrieved the sword from the corpses leg before holding the sword upwards in defense as the nord swung downwards onto Daric's sword, snapping it in two. Daric held what was left of the handle in his hand before throwing the blade to the ground and rolling to avoid the same fate as his sword.

Kiba ran to the archer, taking each step swifter

The light outside has blinded him, as it must have blinded everyone. It took some time for him to get used to brightness, but he could hear what was going on. The crowd was not happy to see the scum of Cyrodiil appear in the arena. Boo's and foods were flying towards them all. Brogans eyes got used to the light at around the time when the opposite team has entered the sandy grounds. "THE YELLOW TEAM!" the announcer shouted. He looked at the equipment they had and thought that the handicap given wasn't exactly fair, but it's not the fairness the crowd sought. They wanted our blood. His train of thought broke after the imperial finally answered his question. "You saved one village at a cost of your life? Apparently, you won't be saving any more villages." Brogan told the imperial and grinned at her, as she moved towards the side of the arena.
Suddenly, the fight had started, but barely anyone had moved towards the enemy, apart from one breton who charged alone at the eleven gladiators rushing towards the prisoners. Brogan dashed towards one of the columns, to quickly figure out a way to get close to the archer, who would be causing them a lot of trouble. While he knew that another bosmer had taken a bow himself, he was hoping that that man wouldn't shoot at the targets farther back. He looked around near the archer and figured the safest path towards him. The bowman noticed him and readied an arrow and shot at him, but Brogan lunged to the right, spinning on his right leg and throwing his knife in the direction of the archer and the knife got stuck in the archers arm. Maybe it's not a deadly blow, but he won't be shooting arrows, Brogan thought and ran towards the archer, who was a little out of it and then he noticed the dark elf approaching the archer as well. Brogan just got the knife out of the arm of the archer and left him for the dark elf to deal with. After a quick look he noticed the nord, holding his sword over his head, swinging it down on the breton who was the first one to enter the fight, and he rushed towards it. The breton managed to dodge the attacks from the nord, and it was good because the nord was focused on him, Brogan was able to slide besides the nord and give a small cut on the nords leg.
"Breton, you in need of a weapon?!" he asked him, while getting on his own legs, facing the Nord.

Kiba swung her sword at the archers neck, hitting him.

As more and more of the prisoners' group ran to the Yellow Team's fighters, Henry looked around. He was a little bit away from the pack, yet no one seemed to notice him. He figured that no one's going to attack him from the back, since someone would have surely done that by now.

There was the other problem. In his travels, Henry never had the need to attack somebody. Only times he used his weapons were when he needed to defend from someone. He wasn't exactly sure at this moment. "Should I attack?" - a thought crossed his mind.

Then he heard the Dunmer of group shout something about attacking the yellow team and Henry couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"Remind me not to forget to breathe next time" he said loudly still chortling.

Obviously he let his guard down a bit while he was shouting and chuckling, so the bard almost got hit by a fireball which he somehow managed to avoid by leaning forward. Soon an arrow came his way, fired out by a second archer standing somewhere deeper in the midst of fight, so Henry started running in a round path towards the fighting, in order to not to be a standing target.

Henry tried to use the spear's length to his advantage, so he kept pointing it towards the enemy should someone have charged at him. That proved to be a wise decision on his part, because a heavy armored Redguard separated from the yellow team's group and decided to charge on him, (even though at first he looked as if he was on Henry's side), swinging his two-handed maul. Henry anticipated the first hit and easily avoided it by jumping back. However, before the bard could point the spear end towards the Redguard, he was already too near and all Henry could do not to become a pile of smashed bones was jump and roll away on the ground. He felt the Redguard's maul hacking the air where Henry was seconds ago as he rolled away. Henry ended up about three meters to the side of the attacker. The bard immediately knew that he should take advantage of that, so he charged pointing the spear and thrusting it into his enemy's left arm, just above elbow. Frankly, Henry thought that this hit would impale the Redguard's left arm entirely, however, he could feel that all the spear did was go in until the attacker's bone. The bard felt the Redguard turning, so he jumped away right in time to avoid his punch. Henry had to leave the spear, as it was stuck in the attacker's armor. After missing the punch, the Redguard grunted and fiercely pulled out Henry's weapon from his arm right before snapping it in two and throwing the debris behind him. He then proceeded to pick up his maul which he had thrown away.

"Well, that looks bad" Henry said, seeing that he had no other weapon and slowly backing away from the brute.

Kiba slide on the floor to avoid being killed by a arrow, she kicked a sword to the bards feet.