The Gladiatrix and the Minotaur

The mantle of trophies always felt heavier on the muscled woman's shoulders when she stood before the large sealed grated gate, looking at the sands beyond it which, by now, were adorned not only with just the scattered scenery of boulders and rocks, but also wooden wreckage and spilt blood from the previous contestants as well. These would have left behind forgotten weapons as well, somewhere, but none that should be trusted - a lesson taught but once.

A line of dust fell down from ceiling as the rumbling of the crowd above her showed its strength, giving signal she was due to enter even before the working aide popped up by her side to tell her so. Nodding quietly, she silently counted her moments while the gears that worked the heavy gate creaked, whined and struggled to lift the barrier to the outside, waiting until the right moment to step forward through the mechanical bustle, the squares of sunlight beginning to reveal the advancing woman's previously shrouded form, who kept stride as her head just barely missed scraping against the rising spikes that would soon dig themselves again into the ground, sealing her inside the desolate landscape.

Many had wet themselves once the gate closed - she had too, in another life. Now, the woman carried herself with confidence, reaching the assigned spot some paces inside while the ramblings of the announcer's magically enhanced voice bellowed through the air with tales of the fighter's feats and conquests, her ear ignoring the fluff while waiting for the awaited signal of its conclusion, at which point she raised her sword arm for the crowd to cheer, steel shining in the late morning sun.

She proudly stood somewhat over 6ft tall, higher than most and stronger than even more still, near able to match a full-blooded orc's savage presence, even with her full form veiled underneath a heavy cloak of trophies made from the sewn pelts of a dozen wolves she herself slaughtered on these sands, a tapestry weighted over the shoulders by the engraved ram's horns from a chimera that suffered the same fate; It was her right to display her feats, but she would not fight donning them, and so she raised her other arm, putting her chest forward in a manner which caused the cloak to slide down her back until it fell to the ground, revealing the woman's full body to the crowd of growing cheers and whistles while the giant images floating overhead the arena left nothing to the patrons' imaginations, a courtesy provided by the invisible scrying orbs moving on and about, manned by very dedicated wizards.

Where before those floating spies of magic circled wide and lazy rings around the woman to present her entrance, the mages controlling them went into a frenzy at the drop, rushing near her figure for all in attendance to enjoy. The woman had her sandy blonde hair shaved on both sides and most of the back of the head, braiding the remainder into thick rope which draped down the center of her back to stop just short of her waist; focused green eyes glared a piercing stare towards the other entrance, her rush and impatience showing through a light snarl on the plump lips that had a natural pout to them, marked by the bite of a small scar near an edge of the upper one. Already rowdy and amped, the crowd truly came to life with the following angles shared by the scryers as they promptly swept over her scar-speckled tanned skin, oiled to a permanent shine from the special concoction fighters used to numb their bodies and keep dust from clinging to them, ensuring the best possible spectacle for all the good patrons. Already earning their coin's worth, the spectators were presently treated to much of the woman's enticing body by courtesy of what amounted to a leather bikini that pulled taught against both her generous chest and toned rear, two softer assets that stood out in her pleasantly muscled figure. Donning one pair of bracers and another of strapped battle sandals, this outfit would be far from the fighter's choice of wear, but those in this position were only allowed to pick one thing to bring up to their own standards with them on the arena, all matters else left up to the organizers' whims; and so, she followed the mantra that had kept her alive through thick and thin, where many had fallen -- always choose your sword.

And what a sword she picked: unwieldy for many others, the weapon had nearly 50 inches of length to it, while stretching another 8 over its width, a measure which kept true from the guard up to the last 10 of edge, which it tapered to a mean point.

Glancing up, the woman noticed the image on display closely detailing the journey of a sweat droplet that lazily fell down her cleavage, a crude choice that got a sigh out of her as she walked forward again, giving the unseen seer an incredible close up of its target, only for her oiled breasts to suddenly disappear from the picture as she "hit" the orb, moving through it without any resistance. The wizard controlling it wasted no time in switching aim, now sharing with crowd the comfortable sway of her braid and sultry rear.

Her walk stopped when loud bangs overpowered the voice that ran through the oval arena, a beast's howl silencing even the man with magic in his voice, who quieted into whispers while remaining just as clear to the audience as before. The announcer interchanged his scared praises of the gladiatrix's foe with the increasingly louder sounds of something hitting steel and splintering wood, hints of a strong beast or monster destroying its shackles rather than being freed from them, all while the gate began its pained ascent, rising a quarter of the way up until two enormous hands emerged underneath from the shadows to grip the lowest horizontal bar, shoving the whole thing up until it stopped with a crash, giving way to the figure that stomped towards the light with heavy deep breaths, surprising the announcer to a shout and the audience to gasp, with some even considering giving up their good seats for safety from the massive minotaur that had entered the arena dragging behind him a pair of thick chains still locked on his wrists, each bound to its own thick block of broken wood from the beams they had been secured to.

The bovine lumbered a distance similar to the one she had previously covered and answered to a matching queue with a display of beastly power by throwing the heavy chains in the air and bellowing an incredibly monstruous shout that ended with the too-cleanly cut blocks and chains slamming down on the ground with determined violence, a peacocking set of actions which proved that despite the selling of this creature as a wild beast to the spectators through speeches, looks and actions, this fighter was anything but; this foe wasn't an "it", but rather a "him".

Trumpets sounded and the arena fell to murmurs, which then gave stage to silence as an older man dressed in rich garments lounging on the most luxurious chambers rose from his seat, a piece so adorned it was tantamount to a throne, even when compared to the others present on the opulent gallery. Handing his wine cup to a servant, the man sauntered down the small carpet-covered stairs into the edge of the balcony and breathed in, enjoying the attention he received as master of games with a smile, drinking enough adoration to feel those present worthy of his gift, which would be a self-serving speech to the crowd, one which glorified himself, the good people in attendance and the events of the day; empty air that allowed the fighters time to take stock of one another, one's animalistic eyes lazily dragging over the woman's body while she surveyed the monster man with trained detail in kind, not in the least pleased with what she saw.

The minotaur dwarfed even her by well over 2 feet of height, his large shoulder span paling only by comparison with the thick, long and very sharp horns protruding from the bovine head, pointing outwards with barely a curve to them. A thick coat of long brown fur covered the entirety of the creature's lower body, head and girthy neck, the veritable pelt thinning out towards the muscled torso where it disappeared to reveal naked skin, though the beast's forearms showed some scruff on their back as well. Even the human-looking area of heavily tanned skin seemed inhumanely thick and leathery, promising a very tough chew for whatever edge tried to bite it.

A few moments passed as the encompassing crowd gradually blurred to a mesh in the woman's eyes, the images moving above the sands vanished from her mind and the heightened voice currently shouting became all but mute in her ears despite being heightened by the same magics that would soon carry the sounds of battle booming through the building, the gladiatrix's undivided attention focused fully on the "monster" in front of her, studying in more detail the now only other presence in the midst of this dissociated battlefield.

Though the fur blended the lines of the bovine fighter's thick legs, his strong and brutish physique was in full display from the waist up, as the slight pot belly, muscled chest and trunk-like arms were laid bare for all to see, shining in the sun from the same oil as his opponent, the only other similarity between them being the lackluster protective attire on the beast as well, for his gear consisted of a crude helmet-like cage made from a grid of thick bars locked on the horns to protect the top, sides and back of the skull, a leather battle skirt with small metal plates held on his waist by a pouched belt and the two makeshift flails of chain and block that were cuffed to his wrists. Purely decorative, his nose was pierced with a thick ring of iron, reminiscent of those used on tamed bulls.

He seemed like a formidable opponent, but she wasn't impressed; just pissed at her luck. Not only were those chains just a wild swing away from trapping or strangling her, a charge from that anvil of a head would definitely spell her doom, as would a goring, or a kick, or probably just a punch even, if he put his back into it, or maybe so even if he didn't. Still, a body that big needed a lot of energy, and the creature's weapons were quite cumbersome as well... could she outlast him on a grind? She smirked at the silly thought, of course she couldn't.

That didn't mean she was done for though; she couldn't compete in strength, nor leg speed, but she wouldn't have to as long as she played the field, which by now was well worn and sown with the remnants of previous battles and ambience pieces littering it. Wagons, carts, boulders, stones, shields, broken spears, and some hidden "jewels" laid all over, waiting to be used, and in their midst the fighter having every intention of putting them to work.

Then the speech was done and a single clap of hands echoed through the air, signalling the start of the melee.

The minotaur was the first to act, seemingly resenting the look his opponent had given him, rushing forward with a grip on the links closest to his wrists, with a beastly shout that muffled even the loud sounds of the blocks and chains that he dragged behind, kicking up sand as they bounced on the ground.

Unfazed by the intimidating approach, the gladiatrix took one final rested breath and stepped sideways, moving swiftly into the field of hazards as to pull the beast into unfavorable ground.

Moving faster than even she predicted however, the bull closed much of the distance between them before she led him too far from the open area, covering the remaining portion with a deft overarching swing that forced the woman to lunge over a rock in order to narrowly dodge the chained block that slammed where she had just stood, then landing on a roll that saw her escape a second strike of the same nature.

The woman composed herself as she sprung back to her feet, turning to face the minotaur just in time to see him stomp his heavy hoof on the rock and jump after her, lunging down with outstretched hands thrust forward as the dancing chains trailed behind which, having caught the fighter by surprise, forced her to make the split-second decision of diving underneath the beast's offensive rather than away from it, a course of action too bold for her opponent to react, which allowed her wriggle her way out and through the enormous would-be ensnaring hands, honed instincts taking over as she immediately planted her feet after the dodge and pivoted in place in a spinning blind swing.

She turned as fast as she could, blade grinding against the chain that would otherwise trap her just by following its course after the bull, shaving off sparks from the metal and even a hefty splinter off the block as the weapons briskly collided, deflecting the object mid-motion to then paint a shallow red streak across the minotaur's back, unable to capitalize further on the situation as the other block struck and bounced off a stone in a wild motion that glanced her on the back and shoulder, nevertheless packing such power it knocked her off her feet and to the side.

Thrown out from the impact and hitting the ground with a grimace, the woman made use of her forced momentum to roll under a wagon with a broken wheel and distance herself, vanishing from the minotaur's sight, who in turn rushed the object, putting hands on it to throw it aside in search of the fleeing fighter, only to instead find her sword's sharp tip whistling towards his throat, as the now revealed warrior had opted to gamble an ambush, sword gripped with two hands for added power.

While a more conventional opponent would have fallen to the skewer, the extra height of the surprised minotaur allowed him to pivot just in time, causing the blade to narrowly miss its mark, nicking the side of his neck; now on the defensive, the monstruous combatant raised his chained arms to protect against the next two stabs that were aimed at his chest, the blade striking on the thick forearms for little damage as the edge found mostly metal from the thick cuffs that the bull positioned in its way, avoiding a harsher punishment by enduring shallow cuts on his muscled arms.

Still, the advantage was pressed by the woman who pushed forward with more stabs and swings, forcing the monster back, who was now being led towards a rope the gladiatrix had spotted just a short distance away, taut at shin level. Swing by measured swing, the woman pushed and led, stab by stab and step by step, until even her arms hurt, unrelenting in their mission, driving the beast to finally retreat a step too far and trip on the stray trap to lose his balance, barely avoiding a complete fall by stumbling backwards into a kneel that regained him his balance.

With the much-awaited moment finally arrived, the woman wasted no time and leaped forward one final time with her sword raised high, putting her whole body into the swing that would cleave her opponent in twain; the minotaur raised his arms to protect himself, but not high enough.

CLAAAANG~, the steel screamed as the sword thundered down on the bovine's head, a furious smite that heavily dented the thick metal cage protecting it, folding the iron into itself as it dug into the scalp underneath, the made-blunt impact threatening to crack the thick skull it was ultimately unable to split apart.

The recoil radiated through her arms, felt on her legs even, forcing the gladiatrix to step back from the dazed creature whose own arms crumpled in the air, the woman allowing herself but a split-moment to regain her footing before lunging forward with a stab aimed at the center of the exposed leathery chest, a deft lethal strike which, to her and the crowd's surprise, was intercepted and deflected by a chain-coiled forearm, a motion swiftly seconded by the other heavy fist rushing out with determined intent, delivering a punch on the woman's chest with such weight it threw her out tumbling, unable to keep a grip on the sword which flew out at some time to be lost on the field.

The breathless woman gasped as she finally came to a halt on her belly, drooling even as she struggled to breath on the sands, eyes watering from the pain of air trickling in and out of her aching lungs. Though the beast managed a dire hit on the woman, her blow hadn't been without results of its own, as the minotaur himself appeared shaken beyond further action, taking some respite after the desperate counter until he managed to stop the shuddering of his head and rise again, fortunate precious time which allowed the woman to gather herself and do the same.

Her sword nowhere to be seen, the disgruntled fighter spat on the ground and picked a hand-sized stone full of jagged edges that laid next to a half-broken shield, feeling its weight as she leered down her opponent, running an arm through the straps of the derelict gear, fixing her grip on the rock before rushing out towards the minotaur, who now gripped the chain links nearer to the blocks, all but turning his makeshift flails into stout clubs.

Both arms came swinging as one against the woman that for a second time dashed under and against the bull's hit with a last-second veer off that put the damaged shield between her and the blow that would otherwise crush its mark, enduring the complains of her raised arm as the broken buffer rumbled and contorted from the heavy block grinding off it, seizing the opportunity she created to throw the rock nearly point blank at the minotaur's eye, who recoiled with a bellow of pain as red began to tint his fur.

The creature stumbled through the field in a frenzied retreat, one clutched fist swinging wildly in pain while the other clutched his eye, only for the woman to dodge him with ease despite her own earned pain, unhooking the shield to grip it in a way that allowed its jagged edge to stab and gnaw at reeling monster's exposed large gut in efforts that managed only shallow blows of little effect, forcing the woman to strike harder and carelessly, a choice that saw her blows deal nastier gashes, deeper damage she was made to pay for when she stepped on a chain that the creature pulled from under her in its fit, causing the dauntless gladiatrix to lose her footing and fall on her back, barely hitting the ground before a vengeful punch on the gut nailed her to it.

Her sight went white for a split second, breath void of sound or soul, lost in a blank field until the woman was forced to regain senses by the same hand that had just snuffed them away, as it was now clutching and squeezing on her neck to hold the fighter down in preparation for the decisive final punch that would end her. Feeling his victory eminent at last, the minotaur let go of his hurt eye and raised a resentful bloody fist only to be caught in a brief moment of pleasant surprise from the realization he could still see from both sights despite the glaring pain, a fortune that made him pause just enough for the woman under him to seize her chance and violently thrust her knee up, hitting the bovine man between his legs, again and again and again and again, each strike gradually loosening the squeezing on her neck until it turned from an overwhelming hold into a grip and then barely a touch, awarding her enough leeway to finally escape the cringing beast and get back up while also putting some distance between them, at which moment the glimmering sheen of polished metal caught her eye, chest filling with hope when she spotted her lost blade in a not-so-far clearing, even if it unfortunately laid fallen in what currently amounted to "no-man's land", just beyond some stones and debris. Despite seeing the danger in going for it, the unarmed fighter knew the sword would have to be retrieved if she was to win against such a massive opponent as all the junk left behind was more likely to just anger the bull even further.

Groaning, shaking and trembling from the pain, the minotaur who had fallen on a knee, hand grasping his groin, retained just enough awareness to notice the woman carefully making her way to the side, moving towards what he surmised would a weapon, or a friendlier field. Decided to avoid her such respite, the creature mustered the determination needed to fight through the pain and, seeing the woman moving in front of a boulder, lashed out in sprint against his foe with a sudden charge that surprised even the attentive fighter.