Each of Chwegwn's six bodies reacted differently to the sight of Kira's hand unfolding into a set of tools. One body looked on in fascination at the tools and their seemingly impossible precision and elegance. One body winced and looked away from the unsettling sight. One body tried to hum along to the almost music of the tools' clicking as they calibrated the weapon. One body was looking down at its own hands with a thoughtful expression on its face, imagining all sorts of useful gadgets that one could have at quite literally the palm of one's hand. One body was standing at the edge of the box, looking out across the arena. And the last body, the one that Kira had chosen to focus on, watched Kira work with the casual neutrality of someone witnessing something completely mundane.

"I'll give you this fix for free. Can't go selling faulty guns," Kira spoke up after a moment. "and I'll split you cut from the bag when I'm done."

"Thank you kindly." Chwegwn's casual body spoke with a grateful nod of its head.

"What's next for Kontina's only Goblin captain, and my uncharacteristically restrained cousin over there?" Kira asked after some more silence. "Good card for today, if you want to stay and try to double your earnings. Celebrate a fruitful trade with me."

"Oh yeah, we're definitely staying for the fights." The body Chwegwn had looking out over the arena answered eagerly. "It's not everyday you get the chance to enjoy a show from the private box of a Council Captain."

"And I'm sure a few wagers here and there wouldn't hurt." Chwegwn's unsettled body added as it tried desperately to focus on anything other than Kira's unfolded hand.

"After that... I imagine we'll be setting sail soon." Chwegwn's fascinated body continued as he moved to get a better view of the tools. "Now that I've found myself a ship's doctor, I feel confident enough to go out and do some proper piracy."

"Unless, of course, you already have an idea in mind for that last job I owe you." Chwegwn's thoughtful body finished up.

Kira's Private Box

"Good," she says, "and you, Adrian? I hope you're not one of those runaways who decided to be an ascetic."
She continues to tinker.

There are six seats on her left and right, for guests.

The tired voice that Adrian had heard whilst eavesdropping betrayed nothing of the beauty that now captivated him. Had he been a less disciplined man Adrian might've went slack-jawed even. He'd heard many a rumor of Leadbelly Kira, and a name like that didn't do much for one's imagination, but Adrian's imagination couldn't have concocted that which stood before him regardless.

In an attempt to distract himself, and avoid being called out for staring, Adrian let his gaze wander around the room as he tried to pick apart the many layers present upon the walls. Most noticeably to him were the items clearly placed there by Kira as either keepsakes or for functional use, Adrian could only guess which. Shuffling sideways ever so slightly to ensure he wasn't to close, Adrian watched as the vampire's agent seemed to leave as quietly as a breeze followed by his entourage.

Turning once more to their host Adrian was once again captivated, this time no paltry attempt at distracting himself could tear his mind away from the captivity of his deepest vice. The woman before him was like nothing he'd ever laid his eyes upon. From the modifications to her own flesh to the manner with which she dispensed of a minor annoyance, Adrian was lost deep in the trenches of desire. He pulse quickened when her hand split and she set about addressing the weapon or whatever, Adrian was barely attempting to keep up with the actual matters being discussed.

"Good, and you, Adrian? I hope you're not one of those runaways who decided to be an ascetic."

As his name fell from her lips Adrian felt his heart drop, his chest tighten, and his palms sweat. Suddenly his earlier problems were entirely forgotten and his trance broken as he swished deep into an overly dramatic bow, accidently slapping one of Chwegwn's bodies in the brow as his left hand rose into the air with a flourish.

"Never you worry madam! I was merely stunned by your beauty is all, Adrian of House Lybar at your service, though we've, as in myself and the house, had a tad bit of a falling out as you may have surmised. Hopefully we can keep that information amongst us friends here though, yes?" Adrian spoke with a carefree tone, betraying nothing that would hint that his earlier disposition had ever been. Remaining in a low bow he tilted his head back to allow him to flash Kira a smile and a wink, still remaining in pose. "And how might one such as I make myself of use to one such as yourself?" He asked, attempting not to be too overly suggestive, but perhaps not being as subtle as he intended either.

The Cells

"I will be ready," Cold Hands replied, the faint smile reappearing in a moment over her blueish lips.

She did not need to ask what trial awaited. She did not want to. The saga carved into the Unfortunate Son's flesh was promise enough. There was nothing more that needed to be said.

The smile faded slowly from Cold Hands' mouth. Her eyes closing as she returned to her meditations. Slow breath settled the excitement she felt in her heart. Her hands grew still, clasped in cold contemplation, resting once more unmoving over her legs.

Kira's Private Box

"You work for Chegs?" she replies, blasé. "Then what he does for me, you do."
Her hand folds again and she nods with satisfaction, offering the gun back.
"Take a seat...s," she says. "Drinks, food? It's in my package."

An arena attendant enters through a side door and stands discreetly with a tablet. A magitech screen above the viewing window displays the card.

TYESTO VS. EDVARD OF THE BRIARS
EXHIBITION WILDCARD: COLD HANDS VS. CONVICT
DISPLAY: UNTOUCHABLE TRANT
FINALE: IRUULAN THE WISE VS. YARRICK YARDARM

"Gah!" The Chwegwn body that had given away its gun yelped as it was struck on the brow by Adrian. When Kira handed back its weapon, it took the gun and cast a vengeful glance towards Adrian. Before it could do anything else though, the Chwegwn body that had been unsettled by the sight of Kira's unfolding hand took the armed body by the shoulder. "Don't." It said. "We need him."

After a moment, the armed Chwegwn sighed, nodded in agreement, and put its gun away.

"Take a seat...s," Kira spoke up then. "Drinks, food? It's in my package."

"Bread and wine for me please." One Chwegwn body requested as it sat down.

"I'll have some tea and cakes if you've got any." Another body stated as it found a seat.

"A good bottle of rum will do me just fine." The third body declared as it took its seat.

"Could I get a BLT?" The fourth body asked as it claimed a chair for itself.

"I think I'll be alright. Thank you for offering." The fifth body politely declined before sitting down as well.

"Surprise me!" The final body exclaimed as it waited for Adrian to take a seat and then sat on his lap.

When the arena's itinerary was revealed, the Chwegwn body nearest Kira looked to her and spoke. "These guns of yours, has anyone used them against Trant yet or will I get to be the first?"

Completely unaware of Chwegwn's moment of contemplation in regards to Adrian's own actions, Adrian proceeded to take a seat, oblivious to the rooms occupants as his mind wandered into fanciful fantasies. Luckily Adrian's chosen life of a runaway had yet to deprive him of his sense of etiquette and his body automatically directed itself towards the seat to Kira's immediate left. One of Chwegwn's bodies shortly hopped atop his lap, startling him from the moment in time for him to take stock of the room and get ahold of his senses in time to order.

"Ah, just water and the finest meat you can acquire, preferably made fresh and dressed in a multitude of steamed vegetables. I care not for the specifics, surprise me. Just make sure it is rare as well, I like my meat a to bleed." He said, a frightening grin spreading across his face at the mention of rarity. It had been a bit since Adrian had such a lavish meal, and given the situation he planned to indulge a tad as he'd been unable to as of late.

With that in mind he fished out a small pouch he kept in his breast pocket, a collection of homemade narcotics that he fancied playing around with from time to time. Adrian began picking through his selection and contemplating his choices as he awaited either the food, or for something interesting to arise from the rooms occupants, whichever came first.

Kira's Private Box

The attendent hurried notes down all the orders, while Kira stares at Chwegwn's nearest body without expression.
Then she seems to cough, a rough sound sputtering from her throat as her head jerks back. Like a chainsaw revving. The sound builds and after a moment you realize - she's laughing, uproariously, with a noise like a turbine with a sticky axle.

"Oh that's a good one, Chegs. Tell you a secret for free - he's not a real Seer. Has some foresight from fuck knows where, but the best he can do before those guns is recognize in front of them as a bad place to be."
She wipes a nonexistent tear from her cheek and chuckles like an idle engine.
"But that's good - automatic forfeit, you win some gems. When the dogsbody comes back I'll tell them - that has to be good for twenty talents."

A talent is the informal measure of a hundredweight of gems. Even one is a huge fortune to the least of Kontina's inhabitants. To Chwegwn it's a very convenient way to pay wages this month.
To Adrian, it's money, probably, honestly you're meant to have people for that kind of thing. Well, perhaps not people, but a thing in a vat that obssesses about counting figures so you can focus on the important stuff.

The attendant returns and serves the food. Both Adrian and the Surprise body are served a steaming bloody haunch on a bed of local vegetables. Neither is entirely sure what it is.

"Place your bets, lads," Kira says, handing the attendant a note and a single, large, finely cut diamond.

All of Chwegwn's bodies looked on in confusion as Kira began to laugh in response to their question. The Goblin had no clue why the Council Captain found their query so funny. But that quickly changed as Kira spoke again.

"Oh that's a good one, Chegs." She laughed. "Tell you a secret for free - he's not a real Seer. Has some foresight from fuck knows where, but the best he can do before those guns is recognize in front of them as a bad place to be."

"Ah." The Chwegwn body Kira was focused on spoke in reply. "I see."

"But that's good - automatic forfeit, you win some gems." Kira continued after brushing aside an imaginary tear. "When the dogsbody comes back I'll tell them - that has to be good for twenty talents."

"Twenty talents?!" All six of Chwegwn's bodies exclaimed in unison.

"...Well." The Chwegwn body that Kira was focused on said after a moment of stunned silence. "That certainly answers the question of how I'll be paying my crew this month. And the nineteen months that come after."

"Twenty talents!" The Chwegwn body seated on Adrian's lap exclaimed again as it leapt to its feet on the Lybarim's legs and turned to face him. "Twenty talents, Adrian! And I didn't even have to lift a finger! Ha ha ha!" The excited Goblin body then backflipped off of Adrian and began to perform a merry jig.

"I didn't even have to lift a finger." A third Chwegwn body murmured quietly as it slumped in its chair. Unlike the more excited body though, this one seemed disappointed by the fact that victory had come so easily.

The rest of Chwegwn's bodies maintained their stunned silence until the food arrived and bets were called for. At which point, the bodies that had ordered food dug in eagerly while the one body that had abstained approached the attendant. "The combatants of the first fight, Tyesto and Edvard." The Goblin's body spoke. "What can you tell me about them?"

Kira's Private Box

The attendant bows before speaking, but is visibly a touch nervous. Why, you wonder?
"Edvard is a Spriggan exile. An oddity. They fight with thorned whips growing from their own body and sap blood from their opponent. There is a rumour they have been modified by Lybar Desdemona right here in Kontina."

Adrian's ears cannot but perk at this. Cousin Desdemona is a minor legend in the House, a grim fable with an unhappy ending for everyone she meets. She's wanted by the Inquisition for a litany of crimes against sapience, but you most remember how she made grandmother cry. Your grandmother never cries, but when someone brought up Desdemona during a diplomatic visit her face darkened like you'd never seen before and she had to excuse herself.

"Tyesto is a young woman claiming to be a disciple of the Queen of Swords, and her skills are certainly impressive."
"She what?" Kira looks up from a plate of cloud scallops.
"Just so, captain Yrva," the attendant replies. "She will not elaborate on this claim."
"How old is this kid?" Kira asks, suddenly dour.
"She said 22, captain Yrva."
Kira barks a gunshot laugh.
"Arrogant lying little shit. Djuka Irene died nearly thirty years ago, there is no Queen of Swords anymore."
The attendant bows, saying nothing.

"Interesting." The Chwegwn body speaking with the attendant said with a thoughtful rub of its chin. "And what are the odds on this first fight?"

Meanwhile, the Chwegwn body sitting on Adrian's lap looked up at the Lybarim. "You know anything about this Desdemona that would tell you whether this rumor is true or not?" Chwegwn asked.

"Twenty talents eh?" Adrian asked nonchalantly, not really putting too much thought into the quantity of the words so much as merely repeating them. "Perhaps we just bet it all then? Double our earnings? What are the odds I mean? Such a paltry sum can't be that hard to recover should things go wrong. Besides, this wildcard fight? Cold Hands? What an eccentric moniker, I find myself intrigued. Perhaps we put our odds there and see what comes of it? What's the worst that comes?" Adrian rambled on, only really seeming to be half paying attention to the words coming forth from his own mouth. Internally a portion of his focus was replaying the last few minutes in his head, an itch that he couldn't quite place ever-present in the back of his head.

Adrian's focus was briefly pulled away as the meal arrived. Adrian's delicate features warped into a predatory grin as he eyeballed the steaming haunch of meat delivered before him. Eerily his gaze panned to the body of Chwegwn that'd taken up residence upon his lap. "It is not my desire to offend, but perhaps being between me and this delicate haunch of meat is not the best location to place oneself. Coming between a hungry Lybar and his meal has long been something we whisper about as dangerous and foolhardy in my ancestral house. If you'd kindly make yourself comfortable elsewhere I would appreciate it." Adrian's tone carried not quite a threat, but a warning meant to hopefully get his point across without offending.

Before Chwegwn had time to react though Adrian's attention was directed elsewhere as the name Desdemona drifted through the wind. Now Adrian abruptly focused on Kira once more, trying to catch the context with which the name had been mentioned whilst also remembering events from his younger life. Not acknowledging Chwegwn's question Adrian addressed Kira, "Desdemona you say? What do you know of her?" Adrian's tone, for but a moment, betrayed a desperation that he'd worked quite hard all evening to keep hidden. How many of the rooms occupants would pick up on it entirely depended on how well they'd paid attention to Adrian's mannerisms thus far.

Realizing his mistake Adrian quickly made an effort to down-play the question, turning back to Chwegwn once more and waving his hand as if to dismiss his earlier question, "Most rumors are just that friend, I'm sure that things are just overdramatized and not merely as interesting as everyone makes them out to be. Perhaps we'll see that in action with this first fight in fact. Now about that earlier request, friend? I would like to eat."

"You could just use me as a table." The Chwegwn body sat on Adrian's lap suggested. "I'm good at sitting still, my head is wide enough and flat enough for the job, and your lap is very comfy."

Kira's Private Box

Kira chews throughfully, twirling a long fork in her slender fingers.
"Kontina's the only city left in all the world where Desdemona isn't going to be shot on sight," she opines, "I'm not sure which fighter I pity more."
She pauses.
"Not that shooting her does any good." There is a note of... bitterness in her voice.

At Chwegwn's request, the attendant gives odds of 7:3 in Edvard's favour. So far Cold Hands vs. the convict is giving 50/50 but the survivor's indenture contract is being added to the winnings for VIP bets. The final fight is 8:2 odds for Iruulan to win.

The Chwegwn body speaking with the attendant listened intently to the words and nodded in understanding once the odds had been given. In all truthfulness though, Chwegwn actually had no understanding of gambling odds at all aside from the fact that the number on the left was what you could win if you bet the number on the right. "Alright then." The Goblin's body said. "I'll put three talents on Edvard, two talents on Iruulan, and one talent on Cold Hands."

Kira's Private Box

"I'll bet on the contract," Kira says, handing a sack of gems to the attendant.
The the attendant accepts your bet, hands you a ticket with the bids, and bows out of the room.

Out on the sand, the arena doors are opening.

Viewing Cage

Nervous guards bring Cold Hands, at spearpoint, to a room with a barred window looking out on the arena sands.
The rooftops of city buildings spread above like strange stars, their lights forming meaningless urban constellations. Below, a sea of faces that fugues into unrecognizability.
You are not alone - a human in stained but lovingly patched overalls watches the arena gates open with you.
One of his arms is a mechanical prosthetic, long and ungainly-looking, tipped with a spear blade. One his eyes and part of his skull has been replaced with more machinery, a glowing blue orb in stark contrast to bright brown organic eye beside it. Lank red hair hangs from the biological side of his scalp. He glances at you, nods, and returns his gaze to the arena.

Viewing Cage

Staring across the arena, Cold Hands felt only a sense of continued peace as the gates opened. She had tried to explain to the guards that she had no intention of running. Certainly, she had no desire to fight them. They were weak and unworthy. Killing them would not have brought her closer to her goal. Besides, she could see the challenge laid out in front of her, the winding path, the red wound carved into the blood red sands of the arena by the Unfortunate Son. She accepted it. And she welcomed it.

The metal adorned man in the room with her seemed shaped for battle. There was little kindness in the work that had reforged his flesh. The guards had said little beyond threads of violence. They had said nothing of the other fated combatants. They had said nothing of her opponent.

Standing next to the other prisoner, Cold Hands kept her eyes on the arena. She wished to miss not a moment, and spoke words untouched by the growing energy of the roaring crowd, "Tell me stranger, who fights the first bout?"