As interesting as it was delving into the bits of knowledge her other self had on the hierarchy of this demonic society she now found herself a part of, there was the slightly more pressing concern that the melee was starting. Having done a decent job of shrinking herself into an insignificant thing in the eyes of most of her opponents, she was mostly ignored at the outset. It would’ve been a bit ridiculous to have them all start on the outskirts of the platform (though it would have done wonders for her ‘stay away from them as long as possible’ strategy) and they had been assembled closer to the center. They had free reign from there, though, so she figured she could just run away from them.

Still, outright running away didn’t sit well with her. It wasn’t just a pride thing (though it was that too). She needed to be able to gauge them and figure out which ones she could take down, hopefully while nudging the situation just enough to be in her favor. Between the open malice of Vrek and the casual contempt of the other one, she wasn’t going to be satisfied with just getting through this test. She needed to win it. She wished she’d been able to have a conversation with the draconid, maybe have an actual ally in this fight, but that hadn’t been in the cards. She had to go it alone.

For the moment at least, alone was a perfectly decent space to be occupying. The other combatants had charged headlong into the fray. Even without weapons, they were a sight to see. A creature that could only have been an Ogre slammed into the wall that was Vrek and the two tumbled to the arena floor rolling away. It wasn’t exactly an elegant move, but it was effective enough to have those two occupied for the moment. She considered seeing if she could get a lucky strike on the big troll but thought better. Too many ways for that to go wrong.

The lean one, she really wished she’d managed to learn his name, took down one of the Orcs with a flurry of strikes to the neck, gut, and groin that made Len wince in sympathy. He was fast and precise, not a fun combination to be dealing with. She kept her distance and let him continue his work.

The draconid, meanwhile, had already taken out two opponents of his own. She hadn’t even seen what he’d done, but judging from the unfortunate way their limbs were angled from their limp bodies, it hadn’t been pretty. Then for no obvious reason, he raised his hands in surrender, withdrawing from the field to jeers from the onlookers and confusion from the remaining combatants.

So much for finding any help from that corner of the battlefield. This left six combatants total. Vrek and his ogre wrestling buddy, the lean troll, a guy who was human as far as she could tell, another Orc, and her. Not great odds, but not the worst. Still, it’d be useful if she could draw this out a bit longer…

“You didn’t think I forgot about you did ya, girlie?”

Hot, sickly breath washed over her neck. Vrek. Instinctively she dove to the side, narrowly avoiding a clumsy paw seeking to trap her. This got a moment of consternation from the troll, who’d clearly expected her to freeze. He shook it off and lunged for her, his arms held wide to snatch her if she tried to dodge again.

He was faster than she’d expected, but nowhere near as fast as she’d been even with a human body. Lenore Wraithwhisper’s body, though, was in another league altogether. He was left-hand dominant, which told her where to move. Nudging the arm up slightly, she slipped under him with ease. A strike to the back of his left leg destroyed his balance and left him stumbling forward. It would’ve been easier to drop him there, hopefully break something important and finish him off, but there were too many other enemies left and she didn’t want them seeing her as more of a threat than needed. Instead she played the move off as luck and dashed away from him as he recovered. She couldn’t see his face but the roar of rage promised any number of unspeakable punishments if he got his hands on her. She made a mental note not to give him any opportunities to act on that rage.

Another of the Orcs was down, by the human from the looks of it, but before he could celebrate his victory the leaner troll got behind him and snapped his neck with brutal efficiency. This drew cheers from the crowd and nary a complaint from the overseers. Apparently a murder by neck snapping was perfectly within their bounds of unavoidable deaths. Lovely. Even more reason not to let Vrek get too close. The remaining Orc turned tail and ran, surrendering without having beaten a single opponent. That just left the three of them.

Vrek was still nursing his pride as he lumbered to the two other remaining combatants. He glowered at her but turned his attention to the lean one first.

“Don’t you dare touch that one, Krel, she’s mine.”

“Is she now,” exclaimed the finally named leaner troll. “That remains to be seen if you ask me. Hey girl, want to surrender to me and add to my count? It’s a damn sight better than he’s going to offer you.”

“Go ahead,” spat Vrek. “It won’t save you. You can die here or you can die later, Either way you’re mine.”

“Fine then, I’ll sweeten the deal. Surrender to me and I’ll kill him for you. Problem solved,” Krel said it with such comfortable ease that she shivered slightly. That was no idle promise. All the same…

“Thanks, but I’m good.” she let some steel into her voice for the first time since she’d approached them. “I think I’ll go ahead and break the both of you here and now.”