@AllHollowsEve@Ciaran

Ten thousand of the upper class had gathered, and their cries hit the man standing in the middle of the arena like a physical impact. He could feel the metal of his helm reverberating with their enthusiasm. It was like this every fresh season. The Captain of the Guard himself cutting the ribbon, and at the same time proving to the Empire that he was still the right man for the job. He hefted his greataxe on high, screaming back at the crowd and frothing at the mouth.

"GO EAT A SHIT FILLED BUNG TROLLEY, YOU DILL DICKED, GOAT-FISTING ASS SLAPPERS!"

The Emperor dropped his head into his hands, suffocating a faint sob. The chief advisor patted him softly on the back, nodding with solemn understanding.

"This year for sure, M'Lord. That vulgar animal shant tarry on this world another day, corrupting the public with the provocative enticements of obscenity and immaturity. The next Captain of the Guard shall not taint thine image, I swear it. I have sought long for two combatants that may cleanse our ranks of this... Creature. Please, M'Lord, cover thine ears. His hogspeak is not fit for thy divine tastes."

The sky loomed red and black, befouled by the presence of a volcano not thirty miles from the arena. The crowd howled back their approvement of Kull's ridiculous ravings, the Captain now marching around in tight circles, heaving his axe up and down with spittle flecked screams, head twitching like it was hooked up to a car battery.

"GREASY ASS ON A SKILLET GREASY ASS ON A SKILLET, GO DIE IN A PIT OF AUTISTIC BABOONS YOU TWAT STROKING TURD ROLLS!!"

On one side of the arena, an enormous wrought iron portcullis cranked up. What sort of challenge was set against the red cloaked moron!?

The portcullis lifted, and slowly, a warrior emerged. Clad in gleaming, glorious armor, his golden hair was oiled and his modest beard freshly trimmed. He'd have been the epitome of a knight in shining armor, exactly what the chief adviser had envisioned, were it not for the stream of crimson liquid coursing around the blade in his chest. He fell to the ground, first to one knee, then all fours, until finally collapsing, even his final moments a spectacle of reserved pride. From out behind him came his murderer.

Another warrior appeared. A giant of a woman, at least compared to those around her, she placed one foot firmly in the dead knights back, wrenching her sword out of him tactlessly. Still covered in his blood, she sheathed it. Her head was pounding as she looked around at the stunned and silent spectators. She took a long drink out of the bottle she held in her left hand. Hair of the dog, and what not. She pounded a fist against her chest, forcing out a raucous belch. It was only as she began scratching her left ass cheek that she finally noticed the warrior at the other side of what she just realized was an arena.

She looked down at the pretty corpse she had made, then back up at the warrior, then at the crowd, the warrior, the arena, and back down to the corpse, finally putting all the pieces together. She looked back up at the warrior and, with a voice that was unintentionally loud enough for all to hear, said quite eloquently "Uuuh... sorry I killed your friend, but he was trying to get into my pants. If it makes you feel any better, it wasn't much of a fight. The poor bastard hardly got a swing in."

Charlotte awoke, and the world spun. No memory of how she got here, but it wasn't hard to figure out. Someone had slipped a sedative into her drink and sold her off. There were plenty of people who'd want her head, and more than enough could afford to buy it. In any case, that was what had lead her to this humiliating position.

A booming voice, a woman's, brought Charlotte's hearing into focus, then sharpened her vision. The owner of that voice, a huge woman, stood a few metres away, apparently addressing someone well outside the small room the pair were in. Outside, past a raised portcullis, a huge crowd of people looked over a sand-covered, circular stage. A man stood in the middle, apparently who the other woman had been speaking to a moment ago. It appeared to be some kind of arena, and by Charlotte's understanding it was her and the other woman who were to fight the man outside.

How wonderful. She was meant to be sitting among the rich and influential, watching this very fight and discussing court politics. Instead, her captors had insulted her pride and sent her to scrap with the dogs. She wasn't sure if it made it better or worse that she'd have done the same thing, had their position been swapped. Still, at least they'd had the sense to leave her dressed as she was. Even if she couldn't act how she ought to be, at least she could appear that way.

Charlotte stood up, brushing the sand from her dress. Thankfully, most of the blood was in the main part of the arena, though one unfortunate knight proved an exception to that. Stepping past the big woman, Charlotte strode forwards, stopping about halfway between the middle of the arena and the room she'd just left. Looking about the crowd for a moment, she drew both her weapons, giving the estoc a short flourish as she did so. She spread her arms wide, and bowed mockingly at her opponent, daring him to make a move.

@Ciaran@AllHollowsEve

Kull gawked and did a double take, stopping cold in his march.

"Women...? WOMEN!? THAT ONE'S WEARING A F*CKING DRESS. PONTIO, WHAT THE HELL IS THIS!?"

The advisor bellowed back at Kull, emperor wincing with his head still cradled in his hands.

"YOUR OPPONENTS, CAPTAIN. DO GIVE US A GOOD SHOW, NOW!"

Kull groaned ans squinted, giving the ladies a quick look over. The big one was clearly a warrior, but the dainty creature approaching looked like more of a duelist than a manslayer. Regardless, Kull saw her confidence and decided not to play the situation off as a joke. There had obviously been a sort of premeditation in this matchup. The huge one for strength and the small one complementing the challenge with speed.
Seeing the small one taunt him, Kull guffawed with pleasure, and began quickly striding towards her. He held the greataxe with his right hand, gripping the shaft just below the axehead to help support its weight, left hand a foot from the bottom of the shaft which extended down past the side of his pelvis. He held the weapon across his body, axehead hefted just above the level of his right shoulder. Just how close was he going to be allowed to get to the Dame? If not stopped, he'd enter her reach without a second's hesitation unless the bigger woman made cause for concern, axehead wavering in anticipation of a killing swing.

"HAW! LOOKS LIKE YOU GOT A PAIR! I LIKE THAT! YOUR BIG FRIEND TOO, IN A MORE LITERAL SENSE! HAW HAW!"

Lillith looked down at the petite woman as she slipped past her. Lillith almost stopped her, figuring someone dressed like that was clearly in the wrong place, but then she produced a long, thin sword and a short, fat dagger. She did an exaggerated bow, and Lillith instantly understood who this was. One of those tiny little show offs that dance around their foe, instead of giving them a good fight. Leaning against the wall, Lillith took another swig of whatever kind of booze she was drinking. It was obvious that she was this guy's opponent, and Lillith just happened to be lucky enough to have the best view of the fight. She was looking forward to seeing the warrior put this dainty little show horse in her place.

That was, until he started yelling about the fact that they were woman. After that, she planned to kill whoever won, just to teach them both a lesson. But then he said Lillith had balls, which she would normally take as a confident, except he was being literal. It wasn't a very good insult, but it was an insult non the less, and she couldn't let that slide.

As the two began encircling each other, she grabbed the small girls face and pushed her out of the way. "Move it, tiny!" She shouted, walking quickly up to the pig in the armor. Without bothering to pull out one of her swords, she marched right up to him and attempted to suck him right in the jaw with her armored arm.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow at her opponent's comment about women, but remained silent. There are many situations a woman can find herself in, in which it is best to let actions speak louder than words. Embarrassing a warrior in front of a crowd of thousands was one such action, in the situation of dealing with an abrasive pig. Still, there was a reason she hadn't been made to fight alone, so she witheld further judgement for the time being.

Charlotte had been prepared to fight her opponent head-on, despite his obviously superior strength and armour. Still, she would hardly complain that her ally wanted to take her place in that manner, though simply asking would have sufficed. She watched them as they approached the man, for a hearbeat longer than seemed natural. Leave it be, she thought. Why not let the bulls butt heads, if it isn't their nature to accomplish more?

The other woman's plan was simple, but Charlotte could work with it. Charlotte shouldn't have much trouble skirting around the back of the fight, if the man was busy fighting his larger opponent head-on. With this in mind, Charlotte circled anti-clockwise around the armoured man, staying at least five paces away throughout. She positioned herself diagonally behind and to the left of him, estoc in her right hand, cinquedea in a reverse grip in her left. Just as the larger woman would strike, she too would dart forwards and lunge with the estoc, attempting to do what it was made for and pierce his armour at the back, missing his spine and hopefully his ribcage, going for a punctured lung. If he would stagger from the other woman's punch, she would then pull the sword out and dodge to the right to avoid being hit with his bulk.

As Lillith swung her fist at the pig in armor, his demeanor instantly changed. Suddenly, he was the warrior he had boasted to be. Too late she realized her mistake, her left leg knocked out from under her. She was nowhere near fast enough to recover, she was going down. In her mind, there was only one thing for it.

She dropped the bottle she had been drinking from. Abandoning her punch entirely, she instead grabbed onto his gaudy armor, intending to either use him stay up, or drag him down with her. If he was able to support her immense weight, she would use her position to head butt him. It wouldn't be particularly effective, as they were both wearing helmets, but since both of their helmets lacked face production, if she could connect, she'd then be able to bite onto his nose. She could then rip it off, causing an immense amount of pain, momentarily stun him, and get a good amount of blood flowing. Although, judging how scarred up his face was already, he'd only be stunned very briefly.

If he couldn't support her, which was the far more likely option, she'd at least be able to pull him down with her. More than likely he'd come down on top of her, but if she could get her right leg up in time, she could kick him away, buying herself time to get up and pull out a weapon. If she couldn't he'd come down right on top of her, and then she'd be pinned. Still, it would keep him from using his axe for at least a second, giving the show off time to do something fancy. She almost regretted pushing her out of the way so roughly. Next time she'd just shove her, instead of grabbing her face.

Aside from this, she didn't give her apparent partner much thought. Small, fast types like her usually had a way of avoiding muscle bound idiots like them.

Though Lillith demonstrated commendable bravery by attacking in such a manner, Charlotte couldn't say the same about her foresight. Certainly, though, their opponent was more skilled than either individual, so the logical step would be to rescue her ally, regardless of what Charlotte thought of her. She could use a claymore-swinging brute by her side, though at the moment the adjective was a little unsuitable.

Though the action had been decided upon, the manner in which the action was to be performed had not. Charlotte had neither the strength, nor the endurance, nor even the opportunity to interpose herself directly, so that was out of the question. Of course, the disadvantage of using one weapon in two hands was that there would only be one item both to attack and to defend with. So, to prevent the attack, give cause for defence. The best defence is a good offense.

It was with this reasoning that Charlotte once again closed the distance between herself Kull, swapping her cinquedea to a normal grip as she did so. Once she was within reach, Charlotte stabbed at Kull's left eye with the cinquedea (an estoc being to large to use at this range). In doing so, she offered her opponent a choice - kill Lillith but be maimed and possibly killed (should the cinquedea pierce his brain) before getting a chance to fight the Dame, or defend the blow with his weapon instead of attacking Lillith at all. Of course, there was always the possibility that Kull display his prowess again, and find a third, less obvious, solution. Despite their situation, and what he'd said, Charlotte couldn't help but be impressed by her opponent's capability even so early in battle.

As she did this, Charlotte also held her estoc low, but pointing diagonally upwards, in order to make room for it and to have it ready to strike or defend.

@Ciaran

Kull, ever the stubborn aggressor, chose to finish his opponent and take his chances with the knife thrust at him. He wasn't very lucky. He stabbed the Amazon in the throat as she fell on him, but when he tried to divert his attention at the same time to evading that knife out of the corner of his eye by leaning his head back, it backfired. The broad blade sliced his left eye open and split his nose, filling his sinus cavity with blood.

"GOOCH SUCKING SON OF A-!!"

He whirled towards Dame and attempted to pitch the Amazon's body into her path, taking a quick step back as soon as he was able. This shit hurt, he had been half blunded and had gunky blood streaming down his throat from his damaged nose.

@Ciaran

Edited above post.

It was an acceptable result. Lillith's death was regrettable, but her relevance to Charlotte had only ever been short-term anyway. As for Kull, he was injured and retreating, having chosen not to defend himself from Charlotte's stab. With any luck, the pain from the wound would be distracting enough for her to finish the job.

If she had been able to continue her assault, Charlotte might have won the fight then and there. As it was, Kull had managed to use Lillith's body in defending himself, delaying Charlotte enough that this wasn't an option. Clever, but he was delaying the inevitable.

Charlotte retreated two steps diagonally (to her left and backwards) as what was left of Lillith's massive bulk stumbled towards her, the body moving between them before falling and rolling once, a few feet to the side. Before it had passed, Charlotte moved into something akin to a sprinter's starting position, before darting forwards the moment the space was clear. Cinquedea once again in reverse grip, she held it close to her chest in left hand, her arm reaching across her body with her hand almost at her right shoulder, the weapon ready to parry as necessary. Meanwhile, the estoc was being used to stab once more, this time aiming for Kull's heart, using torque from an anti clockwise shoulder rotation to add power to the lunge.

@Ciaran

It was a situation Kull hadn't encountered before. An opponent who had thrown away their life to give their partner a fighting chance, even if it were unintentional. He'd not expected such audacity. Usually, he was the one who pulled the crazy shit. Kull hadn't time to bring his greataxe up for a swing, and it wasn't very convenient to defend against a rapier to begin with, so he opted for a less predictable solution. He pitched the huge bladed weapon headlong into Dame's legs as she surged up to him, letting her forward momentum take her to a world of pain before she got close enough to confidently stab him. She could still try, but she'd likely have to overextend and risk worse retribution. She was only lightly armored, her dress a pain in the ass, and she'd be hard pressed not to suffer severe gashes, torn ligaments, or damaged knees, depending on how she handled the counter. Either way, having an oversized battleaxe tossed head first into your legs really, really sucked. Most two handed weapons rarely exceeded seven pounds in weight, yet Kull's was three times that. It was made to create openings, to take advantage of those with common sense. It could only be wielded with about as much grace as a sledgehammer, but damned if it wasn't good for distractions. Few could look past the axe to see that the one holding it was a far more dangerous weapon.

Dangerous, but still annoyingly loud. He spat a wad of blood out before starting off on a mid-fight rant.

"GAH! SCREW YOU! WHO THE F*CK EVEN ARE YOU!? THOSE BASTARDS ARE TRYING TO TURN ME INTO 'KULL THE WOMAN SLAYER', DAMMIT!! THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY EYE!?"

Charlotte cursed under her breath as the axe flew her way. Unorthodox, but it posed a clear threat to her, especially with the momentum she'd already gained. Abandoning the thrust, Charlotte attempted to avoid the huge blade by leaping over it, but it was already too late. Granted, she was partially successful, but the weapon was already too close to her, and she ended up with a gash across her right thigh as she'd failed to get that leg up in time.

The sudden jump hadn't given Charlotte time to plan, and the new injury didn't help. As the Duchess landed, her injured leg fell out from under her, and she hit the floor ungracefully, just about keeping hold of her weapons as she turned the fall into a roll and stood up behind Kull.

"I wouldn't tempt fate, swine. You might step out of this arena glad to hold that title. Better still, you might not step out of this arena at all."

With that, Charlotte stepped in close, still behind Kull's left shoulder. In a reverse grip, she attempted to stab Kull's armpit (one of the typical weak points of plate armour) with her cinquedea, and after a moment's delay, strike him on the back of the helm with the pommel of her estoc in an attempt to stun him.

Charlotte barely managed to turn her face away from the boot before it hit her, and she went sprawling again. Thankfully, her jaw didn't feel broken, though it was painful, and the chunk of metal she'd been struck with certainly hadn't made it nicer for her. To make matters worse, hitting the sand multiple times had gotten it lodged in every uncomfortable place possible, and something that could just as easily be a small stone as a tooth had been trapped in her clothing painfully. Charlotte couldn't wait to get this all done with.

Having been knocked a few paces from her opponent, Charlotte stood up, more slowly this time, picking up her fallen weapons as she did so. So far, almost every attack she'd made against Kull had been met with a superior counter. Yet, he hadn't made an attack proactively at all. So, she gave him the choice.

Stepping backwards, Charlotte did her best at a faintly amused smile, despite the pain in her leg and face. "You've proved you can defend yourself," she began "Now finish the job. Strike me down, be the victorious warrior once more. Be a man."

With that, Charlotte settled into stance, cinquedea held close to her, just in front of her left shoulder, estoc low and in front, and her whole body side-on to Kull.

@Ciaran

Kull seemed momentarily surprised that she had gotten back up after a bronze greave to the skull, but he quickly estimated that it had just been one of those strange, inevitable flukes which show up now and then, like a man born with boobs or a potato shaped like the Emperor's face. He wasted no more time pondering it. He waved his left hand dismissively, scowling. His other hand felt tentatively at his blinded eye, Kull grunting with disgust at his carelessness. He figured himself lucky it hadn't been his life, with how he had underestimated the big one's resolve. This one was determined too, yet... She seemed out of place, not like the brutish monsters that fought tooth and nail here on a regular basis.

"The F*CK you talking about? Get the hell out of here already. I'll have 'em open the bloody gate. Where did they pull you from, a masquerade ball? This is pit fighting, to the death, not some duel where I have to make a name for myself killing a bitch in a dress. What do you- *noisely snorts out a gob of blood* think you get if you win, other than a pat on the back and a ticket to dying another day here!? As if shit like that will make me a man? GO. Get back to your court or whatever, I'll make sure they ship you there like the pretty package you are. The Captain of the Crimson Guard doesn't kill girls unless they have glandular issues that make them look like BUNGWHOPPING MALES. Otherwise I'll look bad! Well, bad in a SHITTY way, not a BADASS way, got it!?"

He jerked a harsh finger towards the gate and began making exaggerated circular motions with it. The men manning the portcullis looked confused for a few seconds before they began hesitatingly winding the gate back up. It was surprising. The savage man seemed to have something akin to a conscience after all.

"I'll admit, it's a tempting offer, but somehow you've managed to make me dislike you so much I'd risk my life for the chance to end yours."

Kull hadn't attacked. Typical. Still, Charlotte was uninclined to simply stand around waiting. She couldn't have her audience getting bored, after all. So, after taking a few moments for her vision to finish clearing, she moved forwards lightly and made her attack.

Learning from last time, she avoided committing herself too much to it, so she could avoid a counterattack. Instead she moved forwards so that she could slash at Kull's neck with the very tip of the estoc, standing side-on and putting weight onto her back foot so she could dart forwards if he were to dodge back. The swing was small and quick, moving diagonally upwards and to Charlotte's right, stopping almost immediately after the intended point of contact, while her cinquedea remained where it was, ready to defend as necessary.