The page quickly runs off to do the legionnaire's bidding as Alsimane limps slowly to the banister once more.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight, curiously, we have a battle between a Lady and a Gentleman!"... He then mutters to himself amidst the instant roar of the crowd. "And if you believe that, I have some prime real estate in Gehenna to pass along..." He returns to his howled introduction. "Tonight, the Pit's favorite! The Flamboyant! The ever-entertaining! Meliquaides!"

The slight gentleman cartwheels into the arena to the gasps and cheers of the crowd. Appearing above his head by magic come seven long-stemmed red roses which he juggles magnificently is rolling loops, before tossing all but one into the crowd. The cheering takes on a shrill note as the ladies above react.

"And his opponent! The self-proclaimed Hammer of Justice! Shanna!"

The mighty portal opens in turn and the simply clad figure of Shanna marches to her place, a pair of sandals tied at her belt and one hand pumping the air as she bellows "Justice will be served!" Her other hand grips to her chest her infamous scroll of magical writings, whispered to be a blessed artifact of her church. She raises the scroll before her as Alsimane raises his arm to give the order to fight. However before he can, Meliquiades drops suddenly to one knee.

He proclaims loudly across the ring. "Fair Shanna, let us not do this! Read to me not from yon poems of might! Here." He raises the remaining rose bloom before him. "I have a single rose to offer you, in friendship and admiration. Let us retire from this spectacle, to speak of more pleasant things."

His imploring eyes draw a series of sighs from the crowds above as all eyes turn to the stern face of the warrior maiden of St. Cuthbert. With a haughty expulsion of breath she raises her chin. "You are the most Lawless one in this place. You shall fall before the Hammer of St. Cuthbert!"

And at this...Alsimane, tentatively, calls the combatants to action. "Fight!?!

Instantly, the limber Meliquiades dives into a dazzling series of back-handsprings driving him at amazing rate towards the white-clad object of his attention. Shanna, smoothly steps backward, placing one hand and one foot upon the gate behind her, and then swiftly, scurries backward up and away from her pursuer. The crowd murmurs in appreciation as she begins to recite from her mystical writings and a blazing shield of light surrounds her momentarily.

Laying the single rose delicately on the ground beneath her, Meliquiades stops and calls out "Give unto me, your poems Lady. I would not continue this battle." And with a gesture and an arcane word, suddenly Shanna's precious scroll slides from her hands. It drops delicately to the floor, where he pauses in his attention to retrieve it, and tuck it, with some mild difficulty, into his belt. "Now, why don't we be friends?"

Reaching into her robes, Shanna draws forth her answer and hurls it down at the young man's over-cheerful face. A bag of sticky liquid goo bursts across the still form of Meliquaides and his features broadcast the pain of those touched by unjust action. He steps aside, with some difficulty, and calls up to his fuming opponent. "Ah, now you have messed my coif. I am disheveled. How sad. Come and make amends, no?" And once again he gestures.

The form of Shanna breaks into a flurry of pinwheeling arms and legs as her unnatural perch near the top of the pit-gate shines brightly with liquid grease. Suddenly all of her limbs come away from it's slick surface as she tumbles down onto the sands of the pit......only to spring up again unharmed!

She immediately re-ascends the pit wall a mere span from her previous perch and points down to her "Quail at the wrath of Cuthbert, Thief!" With this, a cloud of gloom and dark imaginings settles down over Meliquiades. With difficulty, he shakes off the bleak effects and looks once more up to his rather difficult foe. With an indrawn breath he states: "Very well, then. But I shall try not to harm you, greatly." And he begins to sing.

The sticky sodden spectacle of Meliquaides bursts into action as best he can, daggers flashing in an instant and hurling them towards his foe as she races the curve atop the pit's enclosure to distance herself from him. One dagger ricochets from the wall near Shanna's feet while another, screaming unerringly towards it's mark is slapped aside at the last minute by her lightening fast fists. Stopping suddenly she draws her sling and unleashes a bullet. It glances of his armor without effect.

Tumbling in slow cartwheels across the ground, the white-goed form of Meliquiades makes a painfully sad sight, putting forth the aura of a lame puppy, he sings on. A dwarvish piece fills the air, putting all in mind of endurance, and unjust persecution. Another dagger flies from his hands, but goes nowhere near his towering target; imbedding itself in a haunch of meat grasped by an extremely surprised spectator.

Shanna looks down on her foe, and delivers several more sling attacks without effect as Meliquiades backs into the center of the ring. Then, her eyes open wide with rage.
Meliquiades has open in one hand her blessed scroll of Cuthbert! And from the steepled fingers of the other, licks a long tongue of flame. He once again calls out. "While I have tried to be civil, I have no intention of remaining your willing target, Lady Shanna.....if you would try me in combat, come. Else I fear I will have to bring my light somewhat closer to your writings as I search them for some key to your hostility." Flames linger dangerously close to the brittle parchment as he speaks.

Shanna reacts instantly. With a quiet murmur, heard only by the closest spectators, she proclaims. "It's hamma time." Then she is tumbling in a flash towards her antagonist.

Crying out to her blessed patron she crashes into her surprised foe and connects once with suddenly apparent nunchucku and then a snapping kick to Meliquiades jaw. The crack can be heard clearly by all as the over-run minstrel stumbles backward, stunned to be assaulted once more by twin strikes from the enraged ascetic.

His song stops suddenly and the burning threat to Shanna's sacred writings disappear, only to be replaced with the lightening flicker of his rapier. His song blooms once more in a glorious chorus as he drives forwards, pushing Shanna before him. A flash, and another, and the arms of the divine mistress of justice flow red with the results of the assault.

Back towards the wall moves the combat, with more hits received and given by both parties. Shanna backs impossibly up the vertical surface once more moving away from her assailant. With a shift in tune from glory to the rush of springing gazelles, Meliquaides attempts to leap upward to slash at his retreating foe. His impressive effort leaves him several feet out of range however, as his alchemical bindings once more interfere with his dexterity.

Both combatants silently distance themselves from one another, and then, as if in planned unison, call upon powers sacred and mysterious to heal their wounds.

Back in the center of the ring, Meliquaides once more draws flame to his fingers and prepares to call his foe back out to meet him. However, whatever witticism he was to deliver is interrupted as a sling-bullet impacts near his jaw.
Looking up, he spits out a tooth slowly, and then silently lights the scroll aflame.

The remainder of the combat was performed in silence. Casting aside the blazing parchment Meliquiades slowly tumbled about the ring, attempting to keep up with his foe and to recover what daggers may have fallen within the confines of the arena. And although he did manage once more to bring the battle to the mighty Shanna with a recovered blade, he was unable to close with his foe.

Silently, monotonously, the Hammer of St. Cuthbert bombarded him from the safety of the wall tops, until eventually, he moved no more.

Alsimane could only watch in silence, as the furtive murmurings of the audience burst into full-fledged complaint at the outcome of the battle. Jeers and catcalls rain down on Shanna, without effect.