The day had just begun, and the female was definetly not one of the only people at the arena. Her hair was flowing gently behind her, the black locks swaying gently with each step. A slight smile was on her face, her flesh pale and soft, her beautiful green eyes staring coldly at the men and women who stepped in her way. The did not see her of course, for she remained close to the walls, and hide in the shadows that were created by the rising sun. Her steps were quick, her cloak hiding her frame –and her sword- from any onlookers.

She had not decided to leave her hood down, for she wanted people to know her profile before she struck. Her main target was here, but before killing the foreign princess, she had every intention of first fighting in the arena. She did not worship the goddess of blades, nor did she worship the Goddess of Magic –yet- but she was going to fight here as long as she needed to. Magic surged through her fingers –and her scimitar enchanted with flame buckled to her left hip, her right hand carefully strumming the hilt gently.

She quietly moved to the oak table by the entrance to the fight arena. An old man –obviously one who did not make enough money to buy himself a prostitute, or any proper cleaning supplies to take care of himself- gave her a grin of many, many yellow teeth. He extended a single grubby and dirty hand, offering it for the female to shake, and she did not extend her hand in return. He retracted his hand, still seeming delighted to find a female fighting today.

So, miss….Whats your name?

She grimaced at his horrible accent of the common language. She was a master of several different languages, and she spoke them fluently, so she calmly responded in his own tongue, her words cold and precise, much better then the way the man spoke his native tongue.

My name is Lánilmathién…

She did not say anything else, but dropped two coins on the table, paying for her admission and for his disappearance. No one was around, and no one would have noticed as her scimitar was drawn and in a single swift motion, cut straight through his neck and was sheathed again. His body hit the ground under the dark table, and she continued moving. As she stepped into the slender rock-type hallway, she removed her cloak swiftly, by shrugging off the cloak.

The black leather cloak hit the ground behind her feet. Her appearance was beautiful to those who looked upon her. Her long, waist-length black hair complimented her pale flesh, and her eyes flickered around. Her clothing was black leather –not armor leather, but generally clothing leather. The chest fit her tightly, cutting just above her breast, and two straps thickly running around her shoulders. The leather clothing extended down to her waist, and blended in with the black leather pants that fit her tightly, and the grey, tightly laced boots fight her closely and clicked on the ground. She moved quickly, stepping into the sunlight to see the opponent she was set to face.

Temathil decided to find out what this arena was. she needed to practice, it has been a while she did last and that was not good. She kept her wings hidden beneath her cloak as she entered the main room. A man lay on the floor and she suddenly realized he was missing a head.
Shaking her head she figured some thief did it. She suddenly stoped, realizing her carelessness of the situation. when she ahd arrived she would have been horrified. the city was changing her. She walked over the dead man and along the corridor, passing the barracks area for competitors. she finnaly reached the door tot he arena grounds and pushed them open. There was a small crowd in the stands.
"Why do they revel in such bloodshed?" she wondered.
Looking across the arena she spotted her opponent. Another elf. She absently checked her wings. The cloak had them covered. Reaching behind her as if streching she tied a small band around them and to her belt.
"This should help against accidental release."
Drawing her Katana she stepped out into the sun and into the arena.

{I forgot to put private XD...Oh well, I'll make another for beuwolf later ^_^}

Her opponent revealed herself after several minutes of waiting, and had her blade already drawn. Fool she muttered, looked at the katana with a smile upon her face. Lánilmathién had yet to draw her own scimitar, and she had no intention to draw her flame scimitar until she felt she needed to. Her magic would be strong enough to rely on to use against the female. She crafted the words to a spell in her mind, the words slowly flashing through her brain with a thin smirk on her face. This female seemed to where a cloak in the sunlight -why? It was more then 90 degree's outside, so why was this female wearing the cloak? Was she hiding more weapons, or was it further? Did she hide some secret?

Lánilmathién was completely intrigued, and smiled gently as she looked at the woman. She had never thought she would fight another woman on this night, and she carefully crafted the words as quickly as she could. She extended her right hand, outstretching the right hand and gently stroking the arm length, with affection, though if one would look closer, they would see the beautiful runes she drew upon the arm, crafting her spell. A green arrow composed of nothing but raw magic came slowly from her palm, and then shot out quickly at her enemy, the female elf standing across the arena from her.

Don't be rash, woman. You need to learn you place with a real fighter. She heard someone yell at her from the stands. They did not like what they recieved, for a single shot of the same raw magical arrow flew from her palm, directed at the bleachers where the man sat, and the man tumbled to the ground as he was run through with sheer magical force. She returned her aim to the female, and shot two more of the arrows, and then settled again to wait for something else to do.

((oh sorry))

Temathil's eyes widend as she saw the arrow approach. She quickly spun around to dodge the magic arrow. It hit the wall behind her with sparks. She kept her eyes on the foe. Suddenly the woman shifted aim and fired into the stands. A men fell to the ground dead.
she gasped but had no time to watch as two more arrows came at her. She barely noticed the first and tried to dodge but it it racked across her thigh, leaving a somewhat deep wound. the second she managed to dodge, by rolling on the ground towards it. It passed bare inches above her, as she leapt back up, sword bared. She now stood a good deal closer to the foe, and suddenly leapt at the woman, running swiftly at her, her sword held low and to the side with both hands , ready to lash out at the woman from below.

((No worries, I love RPing with anyone! ^____^ And I am sorry for my late reply…Laptop Smashed…>.<))

Lánilmathién smirked slyly as her missile struck one of its intended targets –the woman. The other man, laying dead on the ground, scorch marks running along his body as though he was struck with sheer magical energy. Her magic surged over his form, and she smiled. She loved chaos and all of its aspects –death being her favorite, for obvious reasons of course. The man held no chance against her. He was a fool to think he did, and she laughed haughtily at his yelling extent. He though he could best her –he was wrong.

The woman seemed to be unaffected by her wound, moving forward swiftly, a blade drawn in her hand as she lowered it to strike low. A rookie mistake. Any skilled warrior –or warrioress in this case- knew not to strike low, for a single swipe of the blade could block and throw the enemy back with ease. In the last possible moment, Lánilmathién drew her flaming scimitar, which was being caressed with magic of the flame, the warm rush of energy flowing through her hands and creating a gentle touch along her body.

The blade was propped in her left hand, and she dropped it carefully, swiping in a low strike as the female charged at her to block the attack, and then twisted upward, attempting (though she was not sure if she had succeeded) to throw the blade from the female’s hands. In the next moment, she twisted the blade again in her hand, so the edge of the blade was facing upward, and she swiftly sliced the air upward, attempting to reach the female’s face. With these attacks and defenses laid out openly, she flipped to the side carefully, rolling on the sand and lifting herself into a gentle stop.

It had begun.

((Sorry if she seems…Bitchy…She is just that way X_X))