ad victoriam.
Once again, Dani was waking to strange surroundings. The small and narrow space was faintly lit by the fire of a dying torch erected on the stone wall. Looking back, the passage hit a dead end, and looking forward, a grated gate barred their progress – but she assumed not for long. For, through that gate, greater illumination and the thunderous cheering of an audience— not a human one, from what she could gather —suggested the staging for some sort of spectacle. Which sort she discovered when she paused to examine why she felt so much colder than she had the last time she’d waken in the catacombs.
She was not pleased with what she found. She looked like a sad stab at a sexy dimachaerus. The outfit her kidnappers had put her in was hardly more than a gladiatorial mini skirt and a more fashionable than practical scaled metal bikini top. At least she had leather greaves on all her forelimbs, a solid pair of sandals, and a pair of gladii to go with it. The weapons weren’t for show. They were very much real. Fortunately, this wouldn’t be Dani’s first swordfight, but she was used to backyard spars, not going blade to blade with her life on the line.
As soon as she picked up the swords provided, the gate raised. Dani stepped out into the Coliseum, eyes squinted as she adjusted to the brightness. Far above, stalactites dangled on the cavernous roof, confirming her assumption that she was still stuck down in the catacombs. To her left, the sound of an opening gate repeated, drawing her attention away from the roof and crowds to inspect what was happening. When a woman in similar attire joined her in ring, a sigh was elicited.
“You stuck in this mess too? Looks like we might be facing this one together. Name’s Dani.” She closed her introduction not by hand-shaking, but by giving a testing spin of the swords in her hands, scanning the other’s form for any sign of a weapon. “You ever been in a swordfight before?”
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