Remei blinked. What? What the hell just happened? She looked around frantically. A wide, circular arena. She knew arenas. This was nothing too new. She stepped back and peered over the side of the arena, flinching when she saw the rows upon rows of lethal-looking spikes. "Din," she murmured. "This is the love child of a psychopath and a sadist. I can appreciate arena fighting and gladiatorial battles, but this is insane," She looked up, turning in a slow circle to see the thousands of figures around her. "This is nuts," She looked across the circular stage, searching for whoever she was meant to be fighting. How had she gotten in here? Some kind of jackass magic. Cheating. Getting the fighters IN the arena was half the fun. She resisted the urge to tap her elbows and use her wing tunic to try and flee; she had no idea what was going on here. For all she knew, there was a mage waiting to blast her with fire the second she tried to fly out of here. With few other options that ended with all limbs still attached to their respective parts of the body, Remei drew her glaive in one hand, leaving her scimitars and boomerang away. Hopefully her glaive would be enough... "Where is this!?" she shouted, but was drowned out by the sound of the roaring crowd. "Who am I fighting?!"
Nicholas looked up from his book to find him suddenly somewhere quite odd. It was the sound, mind you, that had roused him from his reading, alerting him to the change of scenery. His eyes quickly darted around his surroundings, noting the arena, spikes, and his supposed foe. A young Gerudo armed for battle, to which clued the warrior into the whole scenario. Stowing away his book in his jacket, he swept his left arm out and turned from the girl to the edge of the arena. As his jacket settled, he bowed. "If thou wish to see battle, all thee had to do was ask!" he announced clearly to whatever ephemeral force dictated the battle he had been chosen for. With that, he pumped his metal fist into the air for the cheering crowd before turning to his fellow combatant. "Do not mind the theatrics," he chuckled, "I could not hold myself from doing it." He rolled his shoulders back, his right hand already clenching and releasing the clawed fist he had the bad habit of doing when getting pumped for a fight. "My name is Nicholas, by the way. Pleasure to be doing battle today." With the introductions out of the way, on his end at least, he took a defensive combat stance with his right arm raised in front of him as if he had a shield strapped to his arm, his left arm held loosely behind him as his feet were firmly planted. He was ready for a fight.
Remei frowned. "You're one of those," she said distastefully. "Is theatrics your thing? I am Remei," She bowed neatly, a sharp bow from the waist and then back up again. Her eyes flickered over the Hylian man. He was holding his arm oddly, and Remei suspected that she ought to be careful of that arm. If he was willing to allow it to take hits, then it must be strong. Possibly a metal prosthetic? Swathed in gauntlets? Remei stood with her legs slightly too far apart, back leg bent and poised to launch her forwards. She gripped her glaive tightly in both hands, blade levelled threateningly at her opponent. "If a fight is what they want," she mocked him, "then they won't get one. What they will get is me slicing you into bloody ropes of flesh," Her words were as violent as she intended to be; this was not a fight she intended to prolong. She wanted this over and done with.
The warrior could sense that his soon-to-be foe was not interested in his little display, but he had just finished reading and that always makes him a little too dramatic for his own good. Nevertheless, she introduced herself as Remei before taking her stance for battle, following it with some biting mockery. Trash talk had always been something Nicholas played with, but he didn't have much taste for it. Witty remarks when the time fit, but he was just ready for a good fight, he held no ill will towards his opponent. But still, he stood, rooted in place. He was watching the armed combatant with a look of mild concentration, but the mind of sharp observation, making note of her dangerous weapons and how she held herself. He wasn't about to underestimate his foe, that was a fact, and so he waited and held his ground with a mild curiosity for now.
Remei frowned. Her opponent wasn't charging... well there went her strategy. She had a bad feeling about this guy. Never misjudge an opponent. She quickly decided to hell with her restraint. She leaped forward, wishing there were walls to kick off. Her glaive was levelled right at Nicholas and she prepared to throw herself aside should the Hylian have something up his sleeve. Most Hylians she dealt with were easily robbed, but this wasn't robbing. This was a duel and she would win!
The warrior held his ground as his opponent was the one to make the first move, making note of her weapon as she lunged forward. He had a few options that he could take to counter the charge, but sensibility won out and he quickly decided to play it safe. Tensing his muscles for action, a deft jerk of his right elbow would be all he would need to deflect the bladed weapon to his left. Following through, he could easily swing the left side of his body around and tumble to the side, rolling clear of his foe. He slid to his feet in a low crouch, taking the opportunity to grab something from his pocket with his left hand, concealed from view. He pushed himself up into a standing position, still leading with his right arm and taking a less rigid version of his defensive stance from before. He couldn't help but smirk a little at his opponent. This was going to be fun, after all.
Remei's eyes widened as her foe shifted position but didn't dodge. Confidence. He had a plan to avoid her attack. It wasn't possible that he was stunned; after all, she was sprinting head on across a giant arena holding a glaive. Telegraphing much. He had plenty of warning and he seemed certain. Remei bared her teeth. She hated fighting with head rather than blades. Just hit me already! she mentally screeched, dodging to one side as she reached him. She lashed out with the glaive, unsteady; she had sacrificed the power of the attack for a dodge.
