((OOC: God, it's been a long time since I've been here, so cut me some slack, I'm a little rusty. ;) ))
Xavion made his way along the network of tunnels and to the arena gates, exchanging glances with those he passed. Upon approaching the gates he nodded his head to the guard who raised them and allowed him passage. Emerging forth from the darkness and out into the blinding light of the sun. Slowly and gradually his features came into view in the radiant light: his soft black hair, calculative metallic hues, and as well as the came that adorned his body. He was a slime framed man with a muscular build, though he was not like the rest who were not as quick and agile as him. He appeared nearly human, but that was the wrong assumption for what hid deep bellow the surface was far from that.
As he stepped fully into the arena, his gaze carefully washed over the hundreds of occupants who anxiously waited in the stands for the grand blood shed to begin. Oh, he had a fight in store for them and he wasn't about to disappoint, especially as this was his time to make his mark on this city and make himself known well throughout. He wasn't about to sit idly by and watch as some punk put him down for the count without one helluva fight on his hands. It really didn't matter if he won this fight or not, so long as he kept coming back for more even when they thought him done would be enough to get the town's attention fairly quick.
He wasn't sure how long it had been since his last fight, but he was itching to start. He wanted to push himself to the breaking point, to explore the bounds and grounds that his body held for him and push them as far as he could. A prestigious grin planted itself upon his slender lips, as his eyes grazed across the fighting plane, noticing that it was nothing more than a dirt lined circle with an assortment of things along the arena walls. On one side was a cart, filled with nothing but hay. On the other end was a few assortments of armor pieces that must've been broken off during a few of the battles and the guards never got around to cleaning it up. There were all sorts of things that littered the arena floor, but there was more of an abundance of blood over anything else. It discolored the sand turning it to a thick reddish shade, baking in the heat of the sun. The scent that lingered in the air was truly that of death, but its rancid nature bothered him very little.
Lifting his gaze, it found its way to the opposing gate as he anxiously awaited its unveling. Awaiting it to expose his opponent to the naked eye and show him exactly what he would be up against.
The noise of the crowd in the stands was overwhelming. Jasmine thought it odd how they enjoyed watching men fight to the death. She wondered to her self if the world was not so foolish after all. Maybe these people in Taras understood the necessity of death. Jasmine would get along very nicely with these people if that were true. Death was necessary and absolutely impossible to avoid. It was the perfect balance of life. There was always a balance to everything. Death was life’s release.
The tunnel ways leading to the arena were dark, receiving little light from small and weak torches. The guards she passed by gave her odd expressions, as it was uncommon for a female to participate in an arena match. Did they think her to be so weak? Jasmine was not at all faint of heart. She was anything but that. She hungered for battle. Her bloodlust was one never to be quenched. The thought of inflicting pain on someone was rapture.
Her leather armor creaked as she knelt down on one knee. She closed her eyes as she lowered her head, saying a prayer to herself. She only believed in herself. Jasmine thought that she should be in power, ruling with an iron fist. Using the ‘Alter Self’, Jasmine changed her hair to a fiery red. Her eyes seemed to have gained a red glow to them. Jasmine no longer remembered what she truly looked like. She has changed her appearance so many times so as not to be arrested and put to death. That would only stop her from becoming a god. She unsheathed her katana from its home and put it in front of her face. She was enchanting it with a fire power. It began to glow orange as a low hum resonated from it.
Jasmine stood upright, looking to the gates leading to the arena. She made sure Calphurnia was near by with the ‘Find Familiar’ spell. The bird was up high in the sky and out of sight. Jasmine waved a hand at the guard, motioning for him to open the gates. He did so, letting the sunlight flood to the dark tunnel. The crowd was loud and excited. Jasmine smiled to herself, as she walked out into the arena. A man stood in the center of the blood stained dirt circle, staring at her. He looked average and she was she could take him down with no effort. Who said this was going to be a fair fight?
As the gates rose to expose their occupant, a heavy sigh passed his parted lips as his frame slumped. Why did he constantly have to fight women, why couldn't there be a man for once? Shaking his head slowly, he straightened hist stance, gazing upon her with his metallic hues. Thinking to himself, he simply began to laugh, 'We've established woman power already....Why can't I fight the same sex for once?' Shaking off the thought, he moved towards the center of the large spanning arena, offering his hand out to the approaching woman, “How about we get off on the right foot? I bid you good luck.”
With his luck, this woman would be twisted as the last couple, it wouldn't suprise him though. The only woman he met so far on these lands that was respectable and didn't try killing you on first sight was the Goddess of Blades. Patiently he awaited the woman's response, expecting her to spit on him or call him a fool as did the others, “Do you wish to get this ball rolling or shall I?”