It was a beautiful day, the sun shining from the sky, not a cloud in sight nor a chilly breeze to be felt. Birds chirped and squirrels chattered about nothing in particular, the whole day being generally quite cheerful. The arena was crowded to the brim, a tournement being held today, with cash and random other prizes up for grabs. It was an elimination tournament, from what the people of the city had heard. And so, Xendral being the rogue he was and having heard the word "gold", he was there already. Xendral had been to this particular arena once before, when he had fought the half-giant. He didn't like to think about that particular event in time though, it had been somewhat of a scary time in his life.

But now, the Gods were laughing at him again, and had pushed him along in their little game of fate to being him straight back the arena. He actually had gone there on his own will, but later, when he would look back at the scene, he would note the hand of Fate. Or luck, whatever you decide to believe in.

But, in any case, he had definitely come today.

At the moment, he was inside the arena, getting ready for his first fight of the evening. He wasn't so sure he was ready for this, but he had SOME fighting skill. There were judges to keep anyone from getting killed, at least that was what the ad had said, so he just had to keep reminding himself of that. Sighing to himself, he checked out his equipment, ignoring the crowd surrounding him. They were all eager to fight.

He was wearing his normal ratty shirt and britches, along with his common black cloak. He had a dagger openly held on his left hip, for easy access if he had to use it. However, his other powers were the ones he was likely to use... No one would be expecting it.

So standing there, ready for his fight, he suddenly grinned, suddenly finding the bright side in this whole ordeal. He DID have some power. Meaning, he had a chance.

Many in the crowd would wonder why he had such an idiotic grin on his face, and some envied the fact that he was about to fight, while other ones unsure of their ability to fight were glad he was going before them. Still chuckling for himself, Xendral finally heard his name shouted by the judge, and he headed to the arena, wondering who his opponent might be. A little nervous, he slid a hand down to the dagger, gripping the hilt tightly.

Scared?

"Of your face."

I don't have one.

"...Good point."

Xailich rolled his eyes at the number of people that stood outside of the arena; general people typically annoyed him, and the numerous amounts of them only added to that annoyance. He pushed through several of them without saying anything, it was rather rude of him but it didn’t matter; he didn’t plan on meeting any of them after the match anyways. He had woken up this morning with the sad idea that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid today; nothing that would get him killed or harm him in any way. The sign and people shouting about ‘free gold’ intrigued him, but after he discovered it was an arena match he had firmly told himself that he wasn’t going to get involved.

Xailich walked up to the arena registrar and demanded that he be placed in the next available match. Xailich could see a man standing in the corner off by himself through a mirror that was behind the registrar’s table. His was being eyed suspiciously by the man in the corner; he was dress in a white shirt, light grey leather pants and a solid black gauntlet on his left hand. Xailich turned to get a better look though the man seemed to have disappeared; he raised an eyebrow then grabbed his ticket and walked away. Xailich looked at it and read the notice on the back; basically, it was his own fault if he died or was injured and all matches were fair by the drawing of lots. Nothing that he hadn’t heard before; the dark arenas of the Shadow Plane typically ran the same way, and all matches there, typically ended in a brutal death. He smirked, not to say that others wouldn’t die brutally by his hand.

Xailich walked out into the arena, squinting somewhat at the bright sunlight that shone on his face. He looked around for any other members in the arena, and rolled his eyes and sighed once he saw who else was with him. It was the man from the other day, the one that he saw in the tavern. He looked at him and spoke with annoyance, “Am I killing---?” He began but was interrupted by an announcer, “---This match will be a three on three battle, the three opponents are being chosen as I speak…” There was a slight pause and he then turned back to the other man, “So, where’s this third person?”

Andin stared at the crowd before him. He was stupefied that people actually got enjoyment out of beating someone half to death and then getting paid for it. Yeah I’m an idiot. He had just realized that it was not so different than his normal job. Yet, his job required skill. There was no skill in an arena match. It was a slug fest, and whoever goes down first loses. He didn’t fight like that. He used mind games, intimidation, fear, and stealth on his sideduring a fight. Not a huge sword some barbarian would use.

Yet, it would be a test of his skill. Clearly no one would expect an assassin to enter an arena match. What is wrong with me? I would get totally annihilated. But a little voice started talking in his head.Think about it. You would get paid. You would prove yourself. You need money. Yes, everything this voice said was true. But something about this voice was odd. He had heard little voices in his head before, but this was different. It wasn’t his. He spun around, like he was going to see some mystery man behind him, manipulating his thoughts and actions.

Fine, let the games begin. He smirked, although no one could see it. He marched through the crowd up to the registration booth.

"Sign me up for the next match." He could see the man at the counter stare at the scar on his face for a moment. Then scribble something down and hand it to a man behind a door. All he saw was a hand poke out and grabbed the slip of paper. He heard the man say something about how to get to the arena. He walked through a small door into the arena. It was filled with people. He saw two men already in the arena. One looked like an idiot. The other was a tall looking man with nothing more than killing on his mind.

Great, absolutely great, I get paired with two morons. He heard the voice of the commentator blare out, “We have our competitors. Now lets introduce our opposing team!”

(OOC: This is a Private post between these three characters. Thanks.)

His eyes went wide as the second announcement was made, his hand even more tightly clamping around the dagger he was holding on to. His knuckles turned white with the action, but he seemed not to care, his eyes only trained toward where the announcing voice had came from.

Heh. THIS should be funny.

For the first time in his life, he just decided to ignore that particular voice.

Glancing over as his first ally entered, wondering how he was possibly supposed to adjust his battle strategy, he found himself staring right at the half-demon he had met earlier.

"Oh. Bloody hells."

I was right. This IS hilarious.

Growling under his breath, he muttered out a curse, and then set his eyes toward the person who would enter next, not bothering to even say anything to the half demon. By the look on the brute's face, he wasnt' all that happy to see Xendral either, and that was just fine with him. The half demon had only been an element in his plan last time, and today, he was just going to be part of a plan once again. That was teamwork right? Although, one had to wonder, could the two actually work together?

As the next person entered, Xendral calmed a bit. The guy looked fit enough and ready enough for a battle. Since he was a simple human it looked, he must have some trick up his sleeves, for not many people were stupid enough to enter an arena fight without having something to be able to defeat others, or protect themselves. Flexing his left hand fingers, if either being to his right paid attention, they would notice what looked to be very dark smoke curling up from his fingers, just for the shortest of seconds. Shadows actually. But ones that could become quite dangerous.

So the formation started at the left, being him, putting the half-demon in the middle, and the human on the right. Glancing at both, making one eye connection with each, he gave a slight nod, signalling he was going to work with them.

Even if he would never admit it, for the moment, they were comrades. Even if he was a dirty thief, he had his own honor. Meaning that comrades were to be protected with your life. Always.

"And first, from the opposing team... A mystery man from whereabouts unknown... EXE!!!"

From across Xendral, a man entered, giving the three team-mates their first look at their enemies. The man was unremarkable, wild tufts of black-brown hair shooting up from his head in what looked to be a spiky style, and icy blue eyes with an unreadable look across his face. He had a gray cloak around his body, with a fur neckline, which covered his features from the neck down to the ankles. On his feet, he had black boots, worn and dirty.

Xendral nodded, not too concerned just yet. Best to see the other two first.