The arena was not grand at all. It was barely an arena. Old, crumbling, seemingly bursting at the seams, the construction had once been great and mighty, but at this very moment it was just a remnant of a time past. Vines had slowly grown along the walls of the building, and were now cozily sleeping in the cracks, formed by the sandstone to accommodate them. This had once been a grand coliseum, visited by hundreds, maybe even thousands, to observe battles with magnitudes far greater than that of the fight which would take place here today.

The arena was framed by a thin, artificial river, about three feet in width, which made an oval spiral on the inner side of the walls, framing the once perfectly plain, now somewhat uneven floor, upon which battle occurred. Beyond the small river, which was crossed by a pair of bridges, ten feet in width respectively, rose the massive walls of the old coliseum. Even if ancient and rickety, it still instilled a sense of dread within those who entered, those who remained and those who died.

The field upon which battle took place was different, when compared to what it had been years ago. The once sandy surface had been watered by rains to the point where plants freely grew upon it. Even though it had been changed into a healthy environment for nature to regrow, it was still somewhat controlled. Most of the field was barren of any biological lifeforms, safe for short grass. The only exception was a tall, mighty oak which had grown into the easternmost wall, cracking it even more, obstructing the field of battle with a few roots, bleaching underneath the scorching sun.

Karaulish slowly made his first step into the field of battle. Not exactly. He had not crossed the bridge, but leaving the shadow of the grand coliseum's innards was somewhat of an entrance into a whole different realm. His snowy hair was ruffled by the soft winds as they seemed to greet his careful approach. The waters around him, as still as a picture, remained littered with old leaves, new leaves, and maybe many bones.

With heavy steps he walked onto the bridge, and stopped at its center. At this very moment he was as far away as he was as near to the arena, at one foot and a half. His spear was strapped to his back, his swords - to his belt, and he felt ready to face the opponent who would come out of the door opposite of his. He had come in through the northern entrance, so his adversary would enter through the southern one. To his right was situated the mighty oaken tree, which had carved a path through the stone. To his left was situated a field, prime for battle.

He made one more step and stood in wait.

"Mmm..."

Shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand, a towering monster of a woman lumbers into the arena, not stopping to eye the rickety bridge she was crossing as it groaned under her weight with each short step. She makes her way into the fighting area, automatically stopping her obviously drunk gait about ten feet away from the exact centre of the place. Her face is a vacant, surly frown and her posture is slouched - lazy, even.

Her eyes slowly roll up to take in whoever else had come here, doing a quick once-over to check what he was carrying and wearing once she saw him. She'd make no sounds nor attempt to give or respond to a greeting, the weapons strapped to her and the look on her face surely more than enough to let this man know the greenskin standing in the arena had come here for what everyone else came here for. She'd make no move to draw the halberd strapped to her back, she'd simply stand there and stare at him wordlessly, beady little mottled grey eyes barely looking like they were focused at all, hands dangling loosely at her sides.

Karaulish observed his adversary for a moment, taking in the sight. No weapons reminiscent of his own closer-ranged weapons, meaning he could keep up a ranged advantage once he dealt with the halberd, but how exactly he would do that, he did not know. Taking further note of the scarring and musculature all over the body of his opponent, he told himself he was in for a tumble.

Slowly, with a feeling of exhaustion, his arm moved back, bent and made its way behind his back. His fingers, covered by the steel gauntlets, wrapped around the metal reinforced wooden handle of his spear. Pulling at it roughly, he heard the faint click of the button on the scabbard, and the weapon was now free of the loose grip of the leather.

He moved the weapon to his front and slid his right fist further down the beam as his left hand caught it at the center. He took a stance, slightly hunched over the spear, body facing to the right, head locked on the orcish woman in front of him. Having gotten into position, he started slowly walking towards her.

Steady strides carried him to the end of the bridge. They then carried him to the opposite location of the orc, at about ten feet from the center. He stopped and started waiting. He would wait for thirty seconds.

The orc stared at Karaulish unblinking as he approached, perfectly still save for the wolf pelt draped over her shoulders swaying in the gentle breeze. He wouldn't have to wait long after he walked up to her for the fight to begin, Olga giving Karaulish the briefest of nods as he got into position 10ft from the centre before she started to advance as well.

Long, powerful strides brought her closer to the spear-toting man at a casual speed for a creature her size, a brisk walk that caused her braids of hair and her wolf pelt to bob to and fro as she plodded forward. She'd made no move to draw any of her weapons, his only hint of the orc getting ready for the fight being the way her every muscle seemed to tense up like a spring waiting to be released and her right hand slowly raising just a little bit past her waist, the heavy bracer on it adorned with what looked like a railroad spike on the outer wrist extending past the knuckle her weapon of choice at this time, it seemed.

If he let her she'd walk straight into range for him to jab at her with that spear, only stopping if there was a sudden movement. Karaulish's reaction to her walking right up to him would determine exactly how she moved after that.

By the time the orc was at ten feet away from him, he removed his left hand from the spear, turned to face her and let out a bellowing roar. His vocal cords strained to keep up the long duration of the brutal vibration as his eyes naturally narrowed to accommodate the suddenly gaping oral cavity. Whilst roaring like so, he had allowed the orc to cover three more feet worth of distance.

Without ceasing his roar, he raised his right arm and moved his left limb to grab the spear at the mid-point once again, this time above his head. He bobbed backwards and then shot forwards, stance remaining the same up until his belt, but from there on he was bringing down the spear's point with great speed towards the orc, who would have been at about seven and a half feet worth of distance from him, if she had kept walking.

If the strike connected, it would most likely result in the spearhead embedding itself into the throat of the orc, if Karaulish was lucky enough to have her keep advancing as fast as she was, or if she made no attempt to avoid the attack. Another potential target was the center of her chest, which would result in a painful, maybe lethal wound, as if his thinking was correct, he would hit both the trachea and the esophagus, leading to the flooding of the lungs with blood and the removal of the orc's ability to consume food.

The satisfying resistance of an impact and the sudden tearing of dry skin. Karaulish would feel and hear these things, but he wouldn't see blood from the orc just yet. As he lunged forward screaming and jabbed his spear at Olga that green right arm had raised and done a swift clockwise semicircle at the elbow like a mouse trap being sprung, the railroad spike attached to the outside of her wrist the contact point between bracer and spear point as Karaulish's weapon was pushed a mere eight inches to the side - much less than she expected given Karaulish was far stronger than he looked - missing Olga's neck and instead catching the wolf hide's collar, causing its strap to rip and the garment to be pushed behind Olga stuck on the tip of the spear, the haft of the weapon against the top of Olga's right shoulder.

If during - or, much more likely, before - Karaulish's opening attack he decided he was going to swiftly pull back the spear and either retreat or go for another strike he'd find himself unable, as Olga's right hand was now visibly clamped around his spear, her hand simply having turned and closed after she'd pushed the jab to her right a little bit - assuming she was successful in this, of course.

If this reaction went as Olga intended Karaulish would have to either abandon that spear to be able to get away or find a way to get it out of Olga's grip right now, because she hadn't stopped walking. Her left arm during all this had also casually raised, the hand slowly closing into a fist. If she was able she'd be stepping right up into punching range, her lead foot coming down between where his feet were planted. The orc was only slightly taller and heavier than Karaulish, but she was staring down at him with a look somehow reminiscent of a tsunami about to crash over an unknowing crab scuttling across a long-evacuated beach.

Karaulish felt the satisfying sound of flesh being pierced. The spear was now in position, as he would call it. Instead of trying to pull his weapon out, as most rational men, and soldiers, would, he instead moved his right hand further back along the shaft, sliding the left to keep the gap between them a constant.

He then pushed hard - not with his utmost power, but hard enough to, most likely, topple the orcish woman if she did not apply significant resistance. His right hand was the main source of force behind the push, as he had drawn it back far enough to place the palm at the butt of the spear handle. What he intended to do was to force the orc back, or, potentially, deepen the wound, and in this process push himself a step back as well, gaining the opportunity to draw his blades.

It was a beautiful day to have your head explode.

As he put his might into the shove Karaulish would first feel his feet lifting off of the ground, then a rush of air against his face as he was pulled sharply toward Olga. The orc had a vice-like grip of the haft of his spear long before he'd gone into the attempted shove, and so not only would he end up pushing against nothing but he'd find himself pulled forward instead of going backward. Why? Because the moment Olga had gotten a hold of his spear and he'd kept coming she had turned to her right, her right hand pistoning out behind her dragging the end of the spear with it, and if Karaulish was still holding onto it a split second later?

C R U N C H .

Her left arm had already raised, and now was the time when it snapped out, as Karaulish was pulled in. A leading jab aimed right between the eyes, her knuckles not the contact point if it landed, but rather the four inches of wrought iron that made up the spike extending past her knuckles thanks to those deadly looking bracers. If her 27mph punch hit Karaulish square in the face there would be no face left afterwards, the force of a punch from the orc not reaching the force Karaulish could generate with his fantastic strength, but far more than enough to kill a normal man twice over. He'd only see a green-grey blur and then it was lights out, unless his reflexes were something really special or he had let go of the spear when Olga pulled.

An unexpected turn of events, he realized, as it turned out she had not been pierced by the tip of the spear. As he was in the progress of pushing the spear towards her with the palm of his right hand, and only using his left as a makeshift shaft for the hilt to go through, the old warrior was able to avoid getting pulled into the melee range the orcish woman most likely craved. Knowing he was not out of danger, he pivoted around his right leg, performing a controlled rotation, moving his body, and, as a result, his head. As his right leg was further behind his left leg, he would, naturally, end up further away from the orc, and would avoid any incoming attack. Pivoting on his right leg would also allow him to avoid getting struck by the spear's handle, which was flying in an arc around the right side of the woman, and could strike him if he had opted to pivot around his left leg.

Whilst performing the rotation, his right hand, outstretched as it had been about to push, but had nothing to push, would stay like that, so as to keep him balanced, while his left hand would dart for the sword on his right side. Upon completing the pivot, Karaulish expected to have turned at ninety degrees to his left, at which point he would proceed to pivot around his left leg, now further away from Olga in comparison to his right leg. During the second pivot, he would be executing an upward-sideways swing with the sword which would be in the process of being drawn, but as it had no sheath it was effectively always drawn, and only needed to break through the thin leather strap holding it onto his belt, which had the same button mechanism as the strap on his back, meant for his spear, meaning it would take a small amount of force, almost minuscule, to set the weapon free.

If his enemy did not evade this attack it would cut into the front of her left thigh and go on to shred through her stomach.

And so there'd be a sudden whoosh instead as the punch found only air and then the sword swung upward. Olga did move out of the sword's path straight after her left hand went out as she hadn't felt an impact or heard a skull shattering, this time back a few steps whilst her right hand re-positioned its grip on the spear she'd taken and then twirled it around, the tip pointing down toward the ground now as the hefty orc backpedalled, hopping back first onto her left foot and then her right, three feet of distance each time, going over the large wolf pelt that'd fallen to the ground behind her. A brief moment is taken by Olga - if Karaulish hadn't immediately advanced - to stoop down and pick that wolf pelt back up with her left hand, standing up straight again after she'd taken three backsteps. Her face still looked entirely neutral, no anger or even any other emotion currently obvious from her expression. Her eyes never left Karaulish and they didn't seem to blink either, aside from that no muscles above her neck moved at all.

If she'd been allowed to back away and pick her coat back up without being attacked she'd just stare at Karaulish for a moment, her head tilting to the side, almost like a puppy hearing its owner say a word it recognised. The spear's point would drift upward as her hand turned, the orc now holding the weapon almost like a javelin, the cloak in her left hand half hanging down and half laying on the ground, the hand holding it by the collar down by her waist.

She wouldn't make any sudden movements if she'd gotten this far without him doing something offensive, watching to see what he'd done during and thinking about what she thought he might do after these few moments had passed. He could easily interrupt during all of this, of course, since he'd be right in front of her, in which case she would drop her plan to back off and react defensively the moment she saw he wasn't going to stop. That depended on what Karaulish did after he swung that sword, though.

The old warrior stopped moving his feet as his right hand moved down to his belt to grab a hold of the second sword, observing the orcish woman as she backed away. With both swords now in his hands, he took a stance, with legs at two feet apart, left hand holding the sword pointed a bit further ahead than the sword in the right hand. And then he started walking.

At first, he was truly just walking. He made one step, after which he changed the way he moved. Instead of simply walking, he placed one leg in front of the other and pivoted on the limb located in front, at one hundred and eighty degrees, which resulted in his left foot now being in front of his right foot. Whilst rotating, he moved his hands as if he had swung upwards with both weapons, finishing the rotation with the swords above his head.

He then pivoted on his left leg, one hundred and eighty degrees, moving face first towards the orcish woman, this time bringing the swords downwards in a diagonal arc. If this attack landed, it would cut into her left shoulder and lead down towards her chest.

As Karaulish came forward starting to cover the ~7-9ft between them Olga did three things, the movements melting into each other as she waited for an opening and then took the opportunity. On his second pivoting step into the downward slash Olga would once more hop backwards onto her right foot and then swing her left leg back around behind to support her weight as she leaned back onto it, further distancing her upper body from the downswing just in case her opponent guessed she'd back up again and surged forward even further during his initial attempt to slice her from shoulder to chest.

The moment Olga landed on her back foot and Karaulish was just past the mid-point of his first downswing the orc's left arm swung up, letting go of the large wolf pelt she'd picked up not a second or two ago. It wasn't exactly made to act like a net and was considerably heavier than a normal coat of its size, but even still, with a little bit of a rotation during the throw and Olga's immense natural strength it wasn't a hard task to have the pelt sail right at Karaulish like a duellist's cloak, the idea to simply cover his vision or at least force him to step out of the way for the briefest of moments - all the time Olga needed.

If Karaulish was either hit and covered by the pelt or took the time to step out of the way as it flew through the air at him Olga would make one final movement in this small chain of events: After the pelt had been thrown and her balance was improved a little by her left leg swinging back to support her weight Olga's right hand shot forward, letting go of the spear she'd taken from Karaulish. It was hardly aerodynamic but given it only had to cover ~5-6ft to reach him from where she was now there was no need to put much thought into aiming. With a grunt of effort from the greenskin the old fighter's own spear would whistle through the air threatening to pierce straight through his stomach just under the solar plexus, barely over a second after the pelt had been thrown.

As Olga had waited for Karaulish to approach as he went into his pivoting steps and then jumped back once more during his actual attack she'd be roughly 6ft away as each object is thrown, the first being thrown exactly as he is half done swinging downward, the latter 1.5 seconds after that.

As soon as the orcish woman made to move backwards, Karaulish knew he had allowed her to attempt something that might end up costing him a lot. However, as the maneuver she was attempting, was most likely going to require a small amount of precision and aiming, as one cannot simply poke with a spear and expect to stab the opponent in the location sought after by the one poking.

Without missing a moment to act, the old warrior swiftly pivoted on his left leg, the rotation making him turn his back to the orc for half a second, leading his right leg to rotate at one hundred and eighty degrees around his left limb. Without even considering stopping, he pivoted on his right supporting appendage, making a two hundred and thirty degree spin, landing him in a position, facing the orc.

While spinning, his hands would keep moving the swords in wide arcs, remaining a threat for his adversary, if she decided to get up close and personal, while his swift movements allowed him to avoid getting hit by the wolf pelt. He wouldn't stop his rotations or his makeshift advance.

Karaulish would proceed to keep making small rotations around his southernmost leg, while simultaneously with that swinging his swords at varying angles, which would, in turn, allow him to keep moving in a circular fashion around his opponent, at a pace almost as fast as running. He would keep making the angles of the rotations wider and wider, until he found himself close enough to once again threaten the orc with an attack.