Xynthia's arena (Another Fantasy SRPF)

[Lightman]

The thread 'Grinning Griffin Inn' on this forum incited me to post my own fantasy SRPF. This is the first time I'm doing this, so please pardon me if its not so good.

The setting:
Hidden somewhere in a mountain valley lies a stone building, like a dome of rocks. In it lives the Elven-Mistress Xynthia, the ageless vixen, beautiful, seductive, and downright evil. She captures any adventurers who comes too near, and has them fight in her arena, each according to his skills--wizards by magic, warriors with weapons. Because of a mighty spell that lies on the arena, these fights never end in death or even major injures, but in unconsciousness of one of the fighters. The loser will become Xythia's slave, the winner has the chioice between freedom--a spell would then erase any memory of his time in the arena--or to become one of the Gladiators. By each vitory over a fellow Gladiator or a newly brought captive, a Gladiator rises higher in rank. The higher his rank, the more privileges a Gladiator has--notably the use of Xythia's many slavegirls and slaveboys. Should a Gladiator loose his fight, however, he will immediately become a slave himself. Sometimes a slave will be granted the chancee of a fight. If he wins, he will be given the chance of leaving or of fighting again for the rank of Gladiator. If he looses, he will be tortured for Xytnthia's pleasure.
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If you are interested in playing this, post your characters, their description and a brief history here. They should be newly brought adventurers of any species.
I shall play Xynthia, the Duel Master Zardon, and those of the slaves and Gladiators that already live in the Arena (just for clarification, there as many female Gladiators as male ones).
When enough people have shown interest, I'll start the game(people may stll join in later, of course).

[Edited by Lightman on 08-21-2000 at 01:12 PM]

 

[Kepic]

Talsa

[Well, Lightman, an intriguing idea - hope you like my Grinning Griffin thread! Like you, I'm new at this...]

Talsa, to all outward appearances, was an extremely attractive human female, roughtly 5 foot 6 in height, slim of build, and of fair complexion. Her dark, almost coal-black, hair is worn long, braided into three strands with silver thread. Her eyes were an unusual bright blue, like sapphires (a colour which matched her prefered sapphic taste). She held a command over emotional-controlling magic and glamour (illusionary magic) that was daunting even to those well versed in the arcane arts, for she was not, in actual fact, truly human - but was begotten by the lusts of a succubus for a mortal human mage of great knowledge and power, though of little willpower.
So, tutored by her father in magic, combined with the daemonic blood that was in her veins, she had quickly, almost effortlessly, mastered the most powerful of magics that lay in that direction which had for some reason so fascinated her. She had also gained from her mother a quite excessive sexual appetite, which has yet to be quenched.
She also studied the arts of swordplay, something quite unusual for a woman in the area she was raised, but the warrior who trained her was unable to refuse her request for training (or, more importantly, the 'payment' she had offered him for it).
A large number of men, and more often, women, have been left in a sensual stupour from her exploits, during her travels before she stumbled into Xynthia's trap.
She wore before her capture (I don't know if those captured will retain their equipment, or be given new for the arena) a set of fire-blackened chainmail (due to her partly daemonic nature, fire and heat have never been much of a threat to her personnaly, but her equipment has never had a similar luxury) and some tattered, burnt scraps of clothing - she had been fleeing from a fire-spitting beast at the time, though she has not divulged its nature.
She seems content enougth to remain in Xynthia's 'care', at present - Talsa believes fully that she will enjoy the thrill of putting her talents of magic and blade to the test as much as the rewards of victory, or the 'punishment' of defeat...

 

[Lightman]

The Grinning Griffin Inn thread is great, Kepic.

Humm, but I hope that some more people will get interested by this...

 

[Lightman]

appeal

Come on, folks, is no one interested?

 

[Drake]

Allandria

OOC: As I've got a male character on the (excellent) Grinning Griffin thread, I thought I might follow Kepic's lead and play a female on here. Should be fun.

IC: Allandria

Allandria is tallish for a human woman, just under 6' tall, with dark red hair that verges on brown but cannot truly be called auburn. She is from a mysterious group of Rangers that live and roam deep within the numerous forests of the land. One of a small number of women within her group who is able to fight, her skill with the bow and spear is unmatched by the men. She also wears a short sword, although she does not usually use it.

Allandria has some small command of magic, although this is inextricably bound to her skills as a Ranger. The combat magic she possesses, for instance, centres on her ability to enchant some of her arrows with magical properties.

She is in her early twenties, a girl beginning to blossom into womanhood. Her exposure to the outside world has been limited, and the only people she has got to know on any level are those within her own cadre. That said, she still has some worldly experience from her early life...she is a woman who knows what she wants and usually gets it. Although, when it comes to sex, she will often wait for others to approach her and make the effort.

A physically attractive woman, with dark hazel eyes, Allandria wears a coat of magical leather under her tunic. The leather armour was fashioned from the scales of a small dragon that she slew when she was 18, and it has never failed her. A pair of leather armguards of the same material, and high boots, complete her dress, although when travelling she wears a large black cloak.

Allandria was battling a forest wyvern when she fell into Xynthia's trap. She is unsure what will happen to her next, although her fierce temper and independent, strong willed spirit will ensure that she won't go down without a fight...

 

[Lightman]

occ: Alright, I was hoping for some more people, but I think I'll just start this. Maybe others will join in afterwards.
Anyway, many thanks to you two for posting, and let's hope this gets good


You are led into the arena by two muscular humans. You have both been here for three days now, and the rules of Xynthia's arena have been explained to you. You gather that your guards are Gladiators, and the man in the black clothes walking ahead of you must be Zardon, the Duel Master. You had expected to be disposed of everything you have, and be equipped with some special fighting gear, but you kept everything you had--you have been told that because of the spell that lies on the arena, stronger fighting gear does not really change anything. It is only skill that matters. Looking around, you see the large fighting space, the climbing stalls where some Gladiators are watching, and finally the golden throne, raised higher than any other seat, on which sits Xynthia. The Elven-Mistress has slightly darker skin of perfect smoothness. Her beautiful ageless face wears a look of cruelty, strengthened by her cold grey eyes and her black lips that are usually smiling evilly. Her silver hair falls to her shoulders. The sight of Xynthia, wearing nothing but a skimpy top ans shorts, both of black leather, is enough to arouse most men and women.
The Gladiators take you to the border of the fighting space, so that you face each other across the large stone hall. Zardon steps in its middle.
At a sign from Xynthia, he bows to her, raises his arms and says:
"Let the fight begin!"

----------------------------------
NOTE:
I thought of a system to handle these fights. Both duelists post the actions they perform during a part from the battle, describing how they attack, maybe how they cleverly parade certain invented attacks from the opponent--be original. I will decide which is better(although knowing the good way you two write, i already know it will be hard to decide). Based on that, I will write the last part of the fight, and how it ends.
Oh, and dont worry if you lose. I'll make sure to give Xynthia's slaves enough chance to try another battle again soon afterwards, either against other posters, or against Gladiators(or slaves) played by myself.

 

[Drake]

Allandria

The thought of being forced to do anything against her will did not sit well with Allandria. She pouted angrily as she was led out into the arena by one of the Gladiators. He was a well built, strong man, and reasonably handsome by most standards, but Allandria felt nothing but cold anger and hatred towards him. Her hands were bound, or else she would have flown at him given the first chance.

A step into the arena revealed the Elven-Mistress, Xynthia, seated high upon her golden throne. Allandria's eyes narrowed as they viewed, for the first time, her chief captor. The Elven-Mistress' beauty was, however, beyond compare, and Allandria felt a tightening in her belly at the sight of the fey in her skimpy leather costume.

Shaking her head, Allandria looked back down to the Duel Master, Zardon, who walked ahead of her. Were here hands free, she would have nocked an arrow and put it straight through his heart faster than thought. She growled under her breath.
Patience.

At last, the party stopped, although Zardon had stopped in the middle of the great hall. Allandria's bonds were removed, and the Gladiator escorting her was gone before even she could react. She sized up her opponent, who stood at the opposite end of the arena. The woman stood slightly shorter than herself, although she was undoubtedly as beautiful. Her deep blue eyes were nicely accentuated by her raven black hair and what looked like scorched mail. A few scraps of clothing hung off her mail - it looked like most of it had been burned off.
A worthy adversary.

Xynthia nodded, and Zardon raised his arms.
"Let the fight begin!" he roared, and was gone.

Quicker than thought, Allandria dropped to one knee, her bow already in her left hand, an arrow from her quiver already in her right. With the mechanical precision of an archer that has practiced their art for their whole life, she nocked the arrow, squinted briefly along its length, and let it fly. Immediately, another followed it, and another.
Her third arrow dispatched within a matter of seconds, Allandria leaped to one side to avoid a possible counterattack from her opponent. Summoning the magic deep within herself as she nocked another arrow, she infused it with the icy cold force of the Hellcrag Mountains. Clearly, her opponent had been badly burned and survived - was she resistant to fire? Perhaps so, but then she was unlikely to be able to withstand cold so easily, Allandria thought, as she let her magic arrow fly straight and true...

 

[LadyChance]

New Character

IC:: Jasper had been testing her magical powers being so new at this and all she had accidently teleported somewhere. The problem being was she had no idea where? Looking around there she could tell she was in a mountain valley where before she had been in a meadow. Just a head and to the right there seemed to be a stone structure, maybe someone there come help her get back since she hadn't memorized the teleport twice. Of course why should she this was not planned now was it?



OOC:: Jasper - Half-elven female. Age unknown, flaming long wavey red hair with emerald green eyes, 5ft 3in tall, 97lbs. Dressed in tunic and breeches. Wears a silver pinky ring with a rune inscribed on it. Can and will use sword, bow & of course magic {just learning}.
I know its short but with school starting this morning kids have to be gotten to school. Figure this should start me out though.

 

[Lightman]

As Jasper turns, she sees a mean in a black dress who says
"You are now prisonner of Xynthia."
Quick as a snake, Jasper sets off an arrown.
But two inches from the man's heart in vanishes in a puff of smoke. The man raises his hand, grinning evilly.
"You will have to learn."
Suddenly, a violet headache seizes Jasper, and she falls unconscious.
When she wakes, her hands are tied behind her back. The man is standing before her.
"Ah, she's awake! Hearken, Half-Elf! I am Zardon the Duel Master."
Zardon descripes Xynthia's arena, and her rules. After that, he gives a quick wave to a man in armor--a Gladiator--who takes Jasper by the arm and leads her to the stalls overlooking the arena, so that she may watch the fight between Talsa and Allandria.

occ: Kepic, we're still waiting for your fight

 

[LadyChance]

Jasper

Ouch, my head hurt and then the memories came rushing back to me. Looking up suddenly yea the nightmare was real and he was standing looking at me. Prisoner? Me? What had I done to become a prisoner? As I am taken to the stone castle, surely this was a mistake I had done nothing wrong. As I was taken inside, and told something about rules, what rules? What fight? Who was fighting? All these questions and several more floated around inside my pounding head. As I was placed in a stall over looking an arena type area, to watch the goings on.

 

[mfucker]

IC: Jake the Paladin, 6ft 9inch, blonde male

I had been in pursuit of the Evil One who had held the King captive. Fatigue never crossed my mind as I travelled hundreds of miles beyong the borders of our land.

At the entrance of the forest, my better sense warns me of danger, but I proceed anyway - protecting the King is my duty.

A couple of miles into the dense trees, my legs finally give way, and I fall heavily on the soft forest ground, losing consciousness...

 

[Kepic]

Talsa's duel with Allandria continues...

Talsa had been led to the arena prior to the opponent she was told she was about to face, yet she had no idea as yet whom it might be. She had seen many encaged in the areas beneath the arena floor as she had been first led to her meagre quarters.
As she waited, more than slightly impatient, she glanced up, and beheld for the first time she who had claimed her a prisoner... Xynthia. Talsa, with her almost daemonic lust, almost had to tear her eyes away from this beautious sight, and when she finally had done so, her opponent was already standing at the other end of the arena floor.
She had little time to size up her opponent before the Duel Master bellowed out the command fight's commence... another woman, with almost auburn hair, and eyes of hazel hue. She held a bow firmly in one hand, and the other was already poised to draw an arrow from the quiver slung across her back.
Talsa had been well taught in the art of swordplay, and arrows were not to her liking. She found physical combat... and contact... much more agreeable. The distance between her, and her opponent, would allow her rival time to unleash more missiles than she cared to consider, before Talsa would have time to close the gap, and bring her keen blade into play.
As the first arrow of undoubtedly several was unleashed in her direction, Talsa was already rolling to one side, summoning up her command of the arcane arts as she did so. Here, she surmised, a little glamour would be most useful.
As she came up to brief stop in her tumble, she unleashed the magical energy she had gathered. To her opponent, it would seem that she was continuing her tumble to the left (Allandria's right), Talsa thought. After all, such magics came easily to her, and would surely not be disbelieved readily.


[Edited by Kepic on 08-22-2000 at 11:58 AM]

 

[Lightman]

After the fight had gone but a few moments, Talsa and Allandria saw how the spell that lay on the arena worked:
As Allandria's enchanted arrow thudded into Talsa's left thigh, the half-demoness screamed at the icy cold surging through her body... but immediately, the arrow disappeared, and the wound closed as if it had never been there! However, Talsa felt herself weaken slightly. So that was the way here. Instead of injuries, the fighters would slowly weaken, until exhaustion got the better of them.

Allandria felt the advantage in her position. Yet another of her arrows found its home, and she saw her opponent tumble to the side. Immediately another shot flew towards her....and went right through her! An illusion! Allandria looked about wildly, and suddenly Talsa appeared before her, her blade swinging, and bringing her to the ground.
Allandria fel slightly dizzy, but she nevertheless quickly rolled to her side as the blade swept again. Scrambling to her feet, she started to run, hearing Talsa's scornful laughter. Then she suddenly turned, and sent another arrow flying against the half-demoness' eye. Just before it touched the eye, the arrow vanished. But Talsa fell to her knees, groaning in pain. Again an arrow flashed against her, this time against her skull, and it was enchanted with that frosty cold...darkness surrounded Talsa.
The crowd cheered as a Gladiator took Talsa's limp from away, in order to to make her a slave of Xynthia. Slaves wore nothing but a leather collar, on which a chain could be attached. All their clothes and posession were locked away and taken out only for fights, until the slave became Gladiator again.
Xynthia stood up, and the cheering died.
"Well done, Allandria. You are now one of the Gladiators."
The two muscled men who had brought them into the arena came again, each leading a slave witht a chain, one male and one femmale. The females had dark hair and blue eyes, while the male was blond and green-eyed.
"You may choose one of these slaves and use them as you will...for half an hour. A small reward you may think, but be assured, they will become greater as your victories increase. You may of course at any time be defeated, and immediately become a slave, like your opponent tonight, but should you then win again, you will immediately rise to your former rank again. Now take your reward."
The Elven-Mistress' gaze sweeps over the audience, until it comes to rest on the stall where sits Jasper, who has now been joined by Jake.
"There will be another fight tomorrow!"

occ: On second thought, I think my system was not such a good idea, its too difficult to judge. Maybe one of you has an idea how we can handle this?

 

[Kepic]

Rules? Hmm...

You're right, I think it's almost impossible to create a sensible rule system in a forum. But, I think you judged that fight well enough, Lightman.
Rules would surely have to be based on some points-spending system, to determine PC's attributes and abilities, though in my experience balancing a point-based system can be tricky.
Perhaps using the actual post times or a letter so many characters into the post text to determine a random number, perhaps both would work... hmm... I'll have to think on that, maybe I could come up with something...

 

[Drake]

Allandria

OOC: I hear what you're saying, but I think it's extraordinarily difficult to regulate a forum in such a way. I must admit that having you decide the outcome based on the posts, a flip of a coin, or whatever, seems the only viable option to me, and one that can't really be complained about by us. "The judge's decision is final" type thing...I think it's the only way, and not a bad way to do this...

IC:

Allandria stood, glaring defiantly up at Xynthia. The Elf-Mistress returned her gaze with an amused look, and spoke again, still with an indolent tone, but her voice had now acquired a flinty edge.
"Choose."
Allandria briefly considered refusing, but to do so would surely anger Xynthia - a powerful being, indeed, to judge by the spell she had put over this arena - and Allandria had no wish to be made slave, or worse, tortured.
She strode over to the female slave and grabbed her wrist.
"I have chosen," she growled, and Xynthia nodded.
"Very well, Gladiator. Go, and enjoy your reward."
Allandria and her new companion walked from the arena, led by one of the Gladiators. Allandria had never liked blondes, and the man looked far too stupid for her taste.
"I want a bath," she informed the slave girl, who silently nodded, and led her to a tastefully decorated chamber.
The bath was already drawn, whether by some magic or by manual labour Allandria could not tell, and the slave girl immediately began to set about disrobing her temporary new mistress. Angrily, Allandria slapped away her hand.
"Do not touch my weapons," she said curtly, carefully unslinging her quiver and laying it lovingly in the corner with her bow. Next came her spear, and finally, she unbuckled her belt and lay down her short sword. The tunic, dragon leather armour and armguards came next, followed by her boots. At last, Allandria removed the black bodysuit that was her undergarment, noting the wet patch at the bottom. Seeing Xynthia, whom she loathed, had excited her, as had winning the battle. She stood there, fully naked, and slowly padded over to the bath.

She glanced over at the slave, feeling pity for the poor girl, who would probably have rather been in one of a thousand places rather than here. Allandria wanted no sex from the girl - the excitement would be lessened for her if her partner was not willing - but she stopped suddenly. The girl's breasts were heaving, and she had one hand up her simple garment, furiously masturbating. The sight of another woman so obviously aroused opened the floodgates of Allandria's lust, and she felt her pussy fill with the moistness of her desire.
"Come here, girl," Allandria ordered, her voice husky and thick with arousal. Obediently, the slave walked over, and Allandria quickly ripped the garment from her.
The girl was slightly built but attractive, her clear blue eyes and black hair nicely complemented by her small, but perky, creamy breasts. Her dark red nipples were hard and erect, and below the neat dark triangle between her legs, Allandria could see the slick wetness on her inner thighs.

The bath forgotten, Allandria laid on her back on a thick rug that covered the floor, spreading her legs. Before she had a chance to give the slave direction, the girl had already eagerly got on all fours and was running her tongue up her mistress' thighs, her right hand still vigorously massaging her own clit. Allandria sighed with pleasure as the slave girl, obviously experienced, excited her body with her tongue. When the long, wet appendage reached the wetness between the Ranger's legs, she cried out, pulling the girl's head closer against her pussy. For a while the girl let her tongue roam over her mistress' moist lips, then quick as lightning, it found her clit peeking out from under its hood. Allandria moaned as the centre of her arousal was touched, and her back arched at the sensation.

The girl gave a strange, strangled cry, and she suddenly took Allandria's swollen clit in her teeth, gently enough that it caused more pleasure than pain. Allandria's lust filled mind dimly registered that the slave girl had just come, and certainly when her right hand came up to spread her mistress' thighs further apart, it was slick, wet, and smelled of sex.

The assault on Allandria's clit continued, and the slave girl now slipped first one, then two and finally three fingers into her mistress' soaking, pulsating pussy. Allandria felt her orgasm building deep within, and hurriedly stuck one of her fingers in her slave's mouth. The girl obediently sucked the finger, and Allandria pulled it out, rubbed it against her puckered asshole, which was wet from her running pussy juices, and then pressed it into the tight opening. Allandria let out a gutteral moan as her second opening was also filled, and she pushed her finger in, up to the knuckle, then slowly worked it in and out of her ass, in a kind of alternating rhythm with the slave girl's fingers fucking her pussy.

The girl's expert tongue rolled over Allandria's clit repeatedly, building in intensity and speed, its roughness exciting her all the more. Allandria felt herself climbing, and as the girl looked up at her, clear blue eyes full of longing, lust and a desire to please, she exploded into a violent orgasm that arched her back and shook her body. With a loud cry, her pussy and ass both spasmed around the fingers they contained, and she continued to moan as her climax stretched out and slowly subsided. Spent and shaking from sheer pleasure, she unsteadily slipped into the bath, and let the warm waters wash and clean her body. The slave girl joined her, and immediately began to sponge her.

Allandria's anger at being imprisoned momentarily left her as her satiated consciousness drifted, and she leaned back and closed her eyes.

 

[Lightman]

Round 2

ooc: very well, we'll keep that system then...hope you'll agree with my judgement.

The next day, Jasper and Jake are led to the arena. Allandria is watching from one of the higher stalls, with the Gladiators, while Talsa is on ground level with the other slaves, her collar chained to a ring in the wall.
After a while, Xanthia stands up and says
"The loser of this fight shall fight against my newly enslaved girl, Talsa. The winner of that fight will be raised to Gladiator, the loser will be punished for our pleasure."
Cheers and roars of excitement greet this announcement. The Elven-Mistress sits down again, smiling evilly, and nods to Zardon. The black-clad man raises his hands and waits until silence returns.
"Let the fight begin!"


[Edited by Lightman on 08-22-2000 at 10:14 PM]

 

[mfucker]

Jake:

I look up at the lady who seems to be the mistress of the building, and is taken aback by the striking resemblence that she bears to the long-lost Queen.

Still trying to come to terms with the predicament that I am in, my thoughts still on the whereabouts of the King, I soon find myself standing in an arena.

From what little I picked up from the Duel Master, I am supposed to be fighting for my freedom.

My opponent - a female elf.

It's not my style to be fighting with one from the fairer gender, but if this was going to buy my freedom to continue my quest for the Evil One, then there wasn't really any choice.

With my broadsword in my right arm, I wait for her first move.

 

[Lightman]

just getting us back to the top...

 

[Lightman]

Hey, er, Lady Chance, you still with us?

 

[LadyChance]

IC::Jasper

OOC:: yes still here had to work today and was sick last night so didn't get to post sorry.


IC:: I had watched the fight yesterday and knew what was exspected of me but wasn't sure I could fight. Even if it meant my freedom, I was not one to fight. Facing this man across the arena, he was a fighter and his sword was very sharp from the looks of it. Pulling out my sword which surprisingly enough they had left with me. I smile at the fighter and ask him, shall we? As I give a cry of battle and start across the arena, hoping I sounded braver then I felt. As I run towards the fighter my mind is racing trying to remember any magic that I might know that will help me as a plan comes to my mind. I begin to slow a little on my approach noticing that the fighter was waiting for me to get to him, beginning to mubble under my breath, a cloud of darkness desends unpon the fighter, just before I reach the cloud of darkness, I cast ultra vision on myself allowing me to see in the dark. Hoping this will turn the odds in my favor. I enter the cloud of darkness swinging my blade hoping that my hit if I even hit would heal just like the others yesterday did. Feeling my sword cut through flesh almost makes me sick right there on the spot. Knowing the fighter could not see me unless he had his own magic I take a chance praying to Tymora, I crouch low and keep striking as often as I can, rolling around so as not to stay in one place for very long.

 

[mfucker]

Jake:

As the elf approaches me cautiously, I get into my defensive stance, body bent, and sword firmly held at the front.

I was prepared for anything, almost.

Swift as lightning, she changed her pace almost immediately, and a dark cloud overhanging soon blocks out my vision.

"Magic..." I mutter under my breath. I squint hard to see her whereabouts, only to feel the sharpness of steel cutting through my left arm. It heals almost as quickly as the injury was inflicted, but I felt somewhat drained.

I felt another blow to my thighs, and again it heals, but further draining me. I was getting the idea.

The blows were fast, and precise, and I wielded my heavy broadsword with some difficulty to fend off much of her blows.

She already had the upperhand from our first exchanges, and if this was kept up, she could well finish me off in a few more blows. My heavy broadsword against her agility put me at a further disadvantage.

I couldn't see, but I knew she was coming low, for now. She was no pushover, I could tell, as she kept on moving, never staying in one place long enough for me to strike.

I started to recall the teachings of my master, and closed my eyes slowly. In total darkness, I could focus better. I was beginning to grasp her pattern of movement. Still, my energy was draining slowly and I knew I had to make my move soon.

Seizing the right moment, I lunged heavily to my right, and gathered what little strength I had left and threw my broadsword from over my head towards the position I had expected her to be in...

 

[Lightman]

ooc: hard to judge this one...well i'll have to try

Jake's blow was well judged, and Jasper fell to the ground, the black cloud vanishing instantly. Quickly, the half-elf got to her feet again, just in time to parry a thrust from the paladin's blade.
A duel ensued, the two fighters dancing with each other's blade.
Jake probably had the greater skill, but he had already been wounded several times in that cloud, while Jasper had so far not received any blow but the one that ended her enchantment.
After some exchanged blows, Jake felt the normal exhaustion of battle coming as well. Deciding to make and end of it, forr good or for worse, he lunged forward, sword grasped in both hands. Jasper fell back in surprised, and quick slash from Jake sent her sprawling on the floor. Jake raised his blade above his head...but just at that moment, Jasper suddenly threw her blade overarm. It flew through the air --and rebounded off Jake's chest as if it had hit against a wall.
The paladin however, fell backwards and passed out.
Cheers errupted from the stalls, which only ended as Xynthia stood up.
"Very well, Jasper. You are now one of the Gladiators. Now comes the next fight."
Talsa was freed from the chain at her collar, and her clothes and weapons are brought to her. Zardon appeared again, and touched Jake's temple. The paladin immediately woke up, and felt as refreshed as if the fight had never taken place.
Jake and Talsa were led to different ends to the arena, and Xynthia spoke again.
"Both are now my slaves, Talsa and Jake. But one of them will now become Gladiator. The other will learn what bad idea it is to loose two times in a row."
Evil laughter came from the stalls.
"The winner will not receive any reward, but being Gladiator, he--or she--will soon be able to fight for pleasure. But first..."
Xynthia waved her arm, and two Gladiators entered, each leading a slave. One of the slaves was a musculated man with a long cock, grey eyes and dark hair, while the other was a slim woman with firm breasts, blue eyes and blonde hair. The slaves were led to Jasper, who wass now sitting in one of the stalls.
"You may use one of these slaves for half an hour Jasper, or renounce them both and instead assist in punishing the loser of this fight. You may decide now, or think about it first...until the end of the fight."
With that, Xynthia sat down again and gave another wave. Zardon raised his arms and roared
"Let the fight begin!"

 

[Kepic]

Talsa considers her tactics...

Talsa had watched the fight with interest, though she was more rivetted with the elven maid's lean physique than her or the man's obvious prowess with blades. Magic, too, seemed to be at this fey's command.
When Xynthia had cried out her new instructions, Talsa smiled slightly. She had no intention of losing again.
The man - Jake - averted his eyes while she donned her fire-blackened mail and those burnt scraps of clothing she still possessed. She smiled, a man who would do such a thing would often be honourable in a duel as well - Talsa was not inclined to such a limitation.
As she waited for the command for the battle to commence, she began drawing on her energies, readying her magic for the combat that was about to ensue. Her last opponent had wielded a bow and arrows - which had proved difficult to counter - and he had but sword, and if he had any arcane (or spiritual) talents, he had not shown them yet.
"Let the fight begin!" Xynthia then cried out, and Talsa stood her ground, letting her opponent waste his own vigour and some time in getting to her, while she worked some of her magics.
Firstly, she summoned up a similar illusion as before, that of herself, in his mind, of taking several steps back, readying for his probable rush. She could take her time.
She followed this with another glamour... this time, intended to make Jake's sword appear to turn into a large, venomous snake in his hands, just before he would reach her. Glamour magic was somewhat superior to that of normal, petty, illusions : in that if not disbelieved, they would be as if real to the unbeliever. Even if he did swiftly disbelieve it... he surely would be off-balanced long enough for her to place more than a few telling blows. And she would be closer to him at that point than he hopefully would expect...

 

[mfucker]

Jake:

He was revitalised almost immediately, memories of the recently concluded fight seemed distant. Again, he was standing in the arena, with his ever trusted broadsword.

His new opponent was, improperly dressed. He turns away momentarily as she puts on more clothing - code of honour.

Once again, he sets up his defensive stance, and waits for her first move.

She stands on the opposite, seemingly planning her own tactic. It was then when Jake felt a psychic rush into his head, and once again, he muttered under his breath, "magic."
He lost control of his senses, his broadsword seemingly turned into a serpent and it seemed that another defeat was doomed his way.

A nagging voice starts to surface in his clouded mind, and he closes his eyes once more. In absolute darkness, his mind was clear. "Focus, boy." The voice of his master once again ringing in his ears. "Focus, defeat is not an option." The voice rings again. He was fighting desperately against the force that was beginning to cloud his mind once more. Images starts to flash in his head - the King, the Queen, his master, his wife, his children. Then a new image forms - he finds himself watching the fight from the stands of the arena. Talsa was fast approaching from the right, no it was left! She was within striking distance.

Opening his eyes, he swiftly holds the sword above his head once more and brings it down hard towards his left once more...

 

[Lightman]

Now you've done it. Impossible to judge that one, sorry. Maybe you could write some more...?