Snippet #1868899

Voices roared like violent ocean waves from the massive crowds that sprawled out in a full three-sixty from the Arena's mighty stands. Shout after shout for the next fight, cheers, drunken revelry, unbridled human blood lust split over the steel railings and onto the sand of the Pitt, while excitement and euphoria danced through the air, baked in the bitter-sweet stench of ale. For some reason, the crowds were bigger today, and almost every named fighters had been pulled in to please the masses, along with the most exotic or deadly adversaries the Pitt Masters could find. Tension was reaching stellar peaks as the ever-so-cocky announcer finally gripped his mic between his pudgy little fingers, and gathered the Arena's undivided attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, and the rest of you savage little gits..Our next fighters have been secured, and let me assure you, it's a helluva match up!” A unanimous cheer resounded from the mass of people, reverberating off of every surface, and rocking every soul caught in it's typhoon. “For your pleasure today, my lovelies, I bring you Rorick The Bloodedge, our resident wild-man, and berserk destroyer of lives!” More cheers resounded as the famed Ladren warrior stepped onto the hot sands of the Pitt. Tall, muscular, green haired, and swathed in scars, the furious Reaver thrust his axe skywards, a bid for more cheers that was quickly fulfilled. “And to face him..?” The announcer couldn't help but chuckle, as the young, purple haired girl stepped forth on the field, bouncing on the heels of her feet, and grinning ear to ear. “Our very own vixen from Cirdore, Nyxos! The mad-mage. Give it up for her brave suicide, folks!” Leers and jeers descended from the crowds, but did nothing to detour the girl's happy smile, as she waved up at them, ignoring her formidable opponent. “Let the slaughter....Begin!”

Chuckling to herself, Nyxos waved at the Ladren man, who raised an eyebrow while spitting in her direction. “You're dead you little bitch, 'ere me? I'll gut you!” When all she did was shrug, the furious man launched himself at her in a warriors-frenzy. Underestimating his prey, he swung his axe in a slow, but powerful crescent, hoping to cleave her in half, but the cheery little girl merely twirled out of the way. “That it, Mr.Warrior?” She teased, goading him into another fierce, but clumsy attack. The crowd roared with anger as he missed again, hungry for action. “Awh..Mr.Rodrick..They aren't happy with your show...I guess this means it's my turn..”

Twisting as she dodged another harsh blow, the little girl put her full momentum behind a kick aimed at his lungs, which impacted with both a heavy thud, and gasp from the crowd as Rodrick fell to the ground. The true power behind the kick was her magic, the second the man gasped she'd began pumping in waves of air she'd stored up from his poorly thought out assaults. He writhed on the sand, clutching his stomach while pained, and desperately sickening sounds escaped his throat, and sent a shiver of pleasure down Nyxos' back. “Come on now, Mr.Warrior, shows not over yet..” She cooed, while grabbing his arms and forcing him up on his feet. The crowd watched in silence as the disturbing events unfolded. The girl turned around and leaned in, gently kissing the man on his cheek, and the second her lips made contact with his skin, he exploded with a gory “pop” sound, leaving just the blood drenched girl standing under a slick rain of blood and fragmented body parts.

Brushing a bit of spleen from her hair, Nyxos curtsied, and blew a kiss at the now uproariously cheering crowd.

“Who's up next, to challenge our little maiden now, hm?”