Sien sat hunched on a small stool in her prep room, running her sharpening stone down the length of her sword. The servants had already come to assist in strapping her into her leathers for the fight to come. Now was the wait, the calm before the storm. She sighed and paused briefly, touching the tip of her finger against the blade to assess it's sharpness. It stung ever so slightly and her lips tightened at the corners as she pushed off from the stool and moved to set the stone back in it's place on the table against the wall. Sien had grown massive as she came into maturity. Standing over six foot tall, and weighing more than two hundred pounds, her size displayed her orcish blood well. Besides that, her skin tone, complete with animal-like spots and printing that trailed her body, her ears, her eyes, and her animalistic fangs made the connection unmistakable. Still, there was a softness and a knowledge to her face that she preferred to think resembled her mother. As a final preparation, she set her sword on the table and picked up a long leather string that was waiting for her. She thread it along her neck under her hair, then pulled it around tight, bringing her brown locks together in a tail at the base of her skull. She wrapped the cord several times, then tied duplicate knots. It would likely come out, but at least she'd start the fight with clear vision. She picked the sword up again and flexed her hand around the hilt, giving it one last inspection as she heard the announcers begin to cry out to the spectators gathering in the stands. With one last tug at each of the ties holding her leathers in place, she moved to position behind the gate that would be raised at the announcers call, to reveal her to her awaiting opponent. She couldn't waste thoughts on who or what it might be this time. It didn't matter. Surviving mattered. She had plenty of scars to prove that.

Duruz growled out a curse, to any of the servants that got to close to him. Being the last of his tribe in blood and flesh. Made it hard for him for anyone to get through the outer shell of the walls he had put up, strapping on the old fur and leather he had come here in. The two orcish blades were sitting on the table, grabbing one of the blades by the hilt. Seeing if they had overbalanced the blade, spinning it around in his hand, feeling the familiar rough leather of the hilt in his hand was reassuring to him. The blade wasn't over balanced, nodding to that he ran his fingers along the edge of the blade. Feeling the familiar sting, it was sharp a breath escaped past his lips as he set the blade back down with the other one. Nothing was the same like it was out in the wilds, they were more dangerous you had to fight and no warning would come that's why it would be hard to survive without the experience. Shaking the thought away, no time to dwell on what was the past. He grabbed a small knife that was sitting on the table, looking at the long hair he hadn't cut before he was brought here. Grabbing a handful, cutting off the hair that would get in his face. To where it was a short cut, the size and skin tone alone would make him out as an Orc no one would mistake him as nothing else. A few scars from past fights in the wilds, covered his arms and a bit of his face. Strapping on the rest of the leather, along with the lone metal shoulder guard. He was ready for what was to come, whatever they through at him he would make sure to survive to see another day. The days he lived weren't given, always another day meant you survived another night. Waiting for that gate to raise, it was like waiting for a wolf to be unleashed to allow it to go after it's prey.

The muffled announcer raised his voice in a climactic cry as the audience burst into a roaring cheer. The clinking sound of sliding chains accompanied the sudden lurch of the wood and iron door in front of her. At first, the brightness of the sun left her blinded, walking forward into the heat of the day across the dusty ground of the arena. She blinked away the glare, lifting her sword to acknowledge the crowd momentarily. She wasn't much for show. She only complied with the games at all as a way to have leverage for the masters' treatment over the other slaves. She didn't have to enjoy her job. She took her place, flexing some in preparation for the fight as her eyes fell to the door on the opposite side of the arena where her opponent would emerge.

Hearing the chains of the gate raising in front of him, momentarily blinded from the outside. Stepping into the sand, covered floor of the arena. Duruz scanned the stands, seeing mostly of the crowd with there eyes on the person across from him. His eyes went to the gate across from him, to see his opponent a woman he wasn't really that surprised. Women fought in his clan that's why no one had survived, his grip on both blades tightened. He wouldn't underestimate her skill, by the tell of it she had fought here more than him. He wasn't like all the orcs down below were, where they would charge. Keeping the blades in a tight grip, putting a foot behind the other to give him a bit more balance. Putting himself into a defensive position, most of the crowd looked at him confused. Duruz didn't care though, keeping his defensive position his eyes taking in the two handed sword that she held.

Sien gave her new competitor a moment to take it all in. As it was, it gave her the chance to assess him as well. Male orc... obviously smart enough to not run out of the gate at full charge like an idiot. Carrying two weapons... that was strange for an orc. She shrugged it off and took a deep breath. "Her kind" or not, it was easier generally to kill orcs. They tended to be violent, irrational creatures who did more harm than good. Sien started forward towards him, tightening and flexing her grip on the hilt of her sword. Once she was only a swords length or so away, she paused, baring her teeth with a deep snarl as she began to circle around him, poised to attack. **"I'm sorry about this stranger... you understand."** She lunged towards him, swinging her sword down towards his shoulder.

Duruz kept his gaze on his opponent, female half-breed. He looked as she circled him, watching as she spoke, "no harm done." Was spoken in a deep and bruised voice, once the swing was in motion he started moving. Sliding the two handed sword off of his, he hissed out some pain as it grazed his arm. When the blade was off his though he was into motion again. One of the blades went into an under hand strike while the, other went into a side strike both blades were coming from different directions.

Two handed fighters were difficult. They had the benefits of speed, multi-directional attacks, and the ability to strike quickly. Her sword was a disadvantage here, though it's hits were stronger. As the blade bit the ground from her miss, she pushed out on the hilt with her left hand, forcing it to angle across the path of his under hand strike while she stepped in and grabbed his wrist on the right. It forced them into a momentary face to face standoff, blood trickling from the underside of her arm where it had grazed his sword as she blocked. The crowd screamed in excitement. Sien snarled for a moment before sweeping her foot between his quickly, trying to knock him down.

Next thing he knew was he was on his back, quickly rolling over and dodging the two handed blade. Getting back to his feet, Duruz's arm throbbed from the graze that he had on his arm. He knew he only had one blade as his eyes went to the blade yards away it was too far for him to reach in time. With that, he quickly started running toward the second blade getting to it and scooping it up into his grip. Once back in his grip, he got into a defensive stance. Knowing she was skilled with the two handed blade he hoped he had the strength and stamina to keep up.

No reply to ooc or pms. I'm taking the thread off my subscriptions.