Cold water droplets hit the ground with a quiet splash against the grey floor. The usual forlorn white light bled through the metal bars of the cell, barely touching the ground. The chains rattled as they hung from the stone walls, wind gently swishing them. The walls and floor had long, familiar scratches and indents laid across them.
          She sat alone in the dark cell, just waiting...   
          A loud creak rang out, and with it the cell gate opened. She stood up quickly and looked at the door, the hood of her long purple cloak hung still in a way where no one could see her face - not that these people needed to anyway. 
          Two guards stood calmly by the cell gate, staring rather blankly at her as they waited. She took a step closer to the guards, they wore large steel suits of armour with the symbol of the mighty Dark One painted on the chestplate with a bright red. The shields they carried had the same emblem engraved on it, and large steel swords hung loosely from their belts. Guards of the Congregation of the Sylths, no doubt.
          They stepped aside to make room for her to leave the old cell. It had been quite some time since she had been let out - 21 years, to be exact. The chains of her weapon rattled as she moved, stepping up the cold stone stairs into the new, more lively light.
          "A new challenger for the all powerful Maxemosis approaches!" A loudspeaker announced excitedly with a high pitched voice, to which the large audience of viewers all cheered. "And a mysterious one at that, with a hood to hide their face. No matter, the Mighty Maxemosis will crush it's puny soul either way!"
          She looked up at the large beast in front of her: Maxemosis. He had a long tail covered in dusty red fur, like the rest of his body, with a face that resembled that of a wolf. Yellow eyes that seemed lined with a sinister glow, and sharp pointed fangs almost looked to burst from his twisted smile. Long black horns gutted out from the sides of his face around where his cheekbones must have been. He wore a dark blue tunic with Boneborn armour that looked like it had been passed down in his family for generations, and his two feet dug firmly in the ground and steadied him by his large black talons.
          His sharp black claws reached for a huge wooden bat with a saw blade attached to the end of it, the blade shone and glistened with the fresh blood of many a challenger. All different colours- vibrant or dull, dark or light- stained it's surface.
          Maxemosis cackled a deep bellowing laugh as he swung the weapon towards the ground where his mystery opponent had been standing, the crowd chanting and cheering in response.
          As the sawbat hit the ground, and dust flew, his eyes widened and his expression changed from one of twisted delight to one of fearful shock.
          With gag and a gurgled gasp dark red splats hit the sandy ground, blood dripping from his nose and mouth. As Maxemosis stood, shaking slightly, he looked down at his stomach. 
         ...And the crowd went dreadfully silent...
          With one gruesome slash of her weapon, she had cut clean through his entire torso.
          As Maxemosis fell to his knees, his guts spilled onto the now red-stained ground with a loud squelch. His eyes rolled back and smoke began to rise from his mouth and nose. Smoke formed around his spilled organs, and the ground beneath sizzled and steamed.
          The cloaked challenger landed on both feet, hood still covering her face. Hot blood dripped off from the blade of her weapon as it spun on the chain it hung from in the wind.
          Whispers of questions rang out from the crowd, concerned and confused. Some even disgusted, and some intrigued.
          "Who is that?" one would ask.
          "They cut straight through him, but how..?" another would wonder.
          “What happened..?” A few said.
          “Are they the new champion?” others wondered aloud.
          As the whispers and questions swung about in the crowd, the announcer stood still with shock. Maxemosis had been the reigning champion for five months now, he had torn everyone who opposed him apart, and for this new mysterious challenger to show up and cut through him with one slash was terrifying. And yet, strangely interesting.  
          The loudspeaker was controlled by the announcer, Who sat in a small booth that stood above everything. He was a Bathra, a monster who had the face and wings of a bat, the tail of a lion, and the rest of it’s body was human-like but covered in a thin fur. Bathra’s were usually mischievous and cynical creatures with a twisted sense of humor. And it would seem the announcer himself fit perfectly into that stereotype.
          “T-The champion has fallen...and with him a new era has begun…” The loudspeaker announced sorrowfully. He looked down at the new champion, curious. Something seemed sort of off about them, like they were familiar yet so foren. “If they who has defeated the champion would step up and take place where Maxemosis once stood, their era will begin. They will hold position as champion until someone can defeat them.” 
          The hooded champion stepped forward and revealed a hand, wrapped in a black fingerless glove, from her long cloak. She reached up and took hold of the hood that shadowed her face. As she slid the hood off her head, the announcer's eyes widened with surprise and shock. 
          “It’s her…” the announcer proclaimed, surprised.
          Her light blue skin shimmered in an almost reptile-like way in the bright light, and her long red hair- which was put up in a tall ponytail- glistened as it twisted around in the wind. The sides and back of her head were messily shaved. Her face was rather thin, and her ears looked similar to that of a bat’s wing. Her eyes had a sharp glare to them, they almost seemed to have two colors, the outside one a light yellow and the inside one a bright orange. She had pointed red markings under and above her eyes, and she had a large scar across the ridge of her nose.
          She gazed up, her eyes meeting the announcer's. Hatred held firm in the center of her glare. The Bathra stood there quietly for a moment, shaking slightly. 
          “T-The era of Lucimean h-has begun”