the crowd up to a roar as she walked up to my opponent and raised his good arm in victory. They began the death chant once more, the rhythmic staccato of weapons banging on armor and clashing on shields thrumming all around me.
The imp crossed the distance between us and paused just a few feet away, letting me catch a good look for the first time. She was a biblical succubus, a mixture of demon and woman, dressed in low-cut leather trousers and high boots that belied a flawless figure, with a flowing white blouse tied across her chest, revealing her slim midriff and doing little to conceal her small, firm breasts. She had a golden sash around her waist from which a long curved scimitar hung in an embroidered leather scabbard adorned with silver etchings. Silver was her bling of choice, with several rings and earrings, bracers, and an impressive torque that hung from her neck. Despite her allure, she was a petite thing, with short black hair slicked back away from her lovely face. Her facial features themselves were sharp and elf-like; even the upper lobes of her ears were elongated toward a pointed tip. She was a thing of beauty, as lovely as any woman I had ever laid eyes on, though she had reddish black skin, devious red-glowing eyes that were devoid of an iris, and sharp, pointed teeth, more like fangs than anything else, layered behind her full, luscious lips.
She sauntered toward me, like a model strutting the catwalk, but something about my demeanor and posture checked her, making her come to an abrupt stop. The imp did well to conceal her last minute nerves, cocking her hips to one side and crossing her arms across her chest, maximizing her cleavage.
She said something that made the host break into laughter. I softened my stance with my fists at my hips. That made her smile and come closer, placing her clawed hand on my chest and circling around me, a long nail trailing across my upper body. She paused behind me, pressing herself against my body and sniffing the back of my neck. I have to admit it felt wonderful with her upper body squeezed tight against the small of my back. She staggered away, pretending to be overcome with her desire for me. The crew ate it up, engulfing us with laughter, and she turned to the captain clutching her breasts and groin as if unable to contain herself.
Whatever she told the captain sent the crowd into stitches, and even my opponent was barely able to stand, doubled over in laughter. The captain’s reply, hardly audible over the ruckus, kept them going, and the imp just shrugged, doing a bad job of concealing her smile, and patted my face. She strolled back to her companions, drawing hoots and whistles from them all. She took her wooden box back and drew a stone coin from the folds of her blouse, pointing at me before tossing it in with the other bets. The crew was suddenly silent, that she would bet against one of their members, and my opponent spat on the floor at her feet.
The captain took control of her crew with a wave of her hand. She pointed at Ugly, and he nodded, then pointed at me and got the same response. Then she slammed her hands together, saying what I could only guess meant “Fight!” and the warrior rushed forward.
I charged to meet him, proud and angry, eager to tear into something after months of inactivity, after being on the shelf while the world spun past me. I roared like a maddened lion, my hands reaching for him to show him who was boss, but he was faster than he looked, swinging that bone hammer before I could cross the distance. I flinched, raising my left shoulder, and caught the mace head square in the deltoid. The brutal impact hit me with a thunking thwap that sent a jolt of pain through my upper body. Checking my forward momentum and sending me feeling laterally into the dirt, the warrior didn’t relent. He jumped into the air for a finishing move that would crush my skull. Old reflexes woke up and I managed to avoid getting pulped, rolling to my feet, my equilibrium struggling to compensate. The blow struck with such force it cratered the ground, showering me with rock shards and dust. The mace head was firmly wedged into the ground, and I didn’t