Finally, the announcements blared. The mercenary woman hated the fanfare – she'd rather be off hunting down some monster or another, but this spectacle cannot be helped if she wanted the money. Monster hunting business slowed horribly in the past few months for her. So, grumbling under her breath, Ruthalla stepped into the arena with a scowl upon her face.

She was a woman geared up for war. Her bastard sword sat across her back, between a pair of scarlet draconic wings, and a studded leather vest protected her torso, crafted specifically to allow for easy use of her wings. Plates of steel covered her shoulders, arms and legs, and a round, steel shield to protect most of her left side.

Amber eyes scanning the place, Ruth moved further into the arena, the arrow-point of her scaly tail leaving a swiveling line of a trail after her. Her gaze caught the other combatant, and the woman gave him a stern nod of acknowledgment. That was all the socializing she was willing to do, before she pulled her sword to bear and advanced toward him, and the fire pit by extent.

Wings twitching as she growled, the woman gave a light swipe with her sword towards her opponent, though she was nowhere near him yet. Instead, flames roared from the pit, an arc flying out Eamon's way to splash over him and set him alight.

The man dropped and rolled to put out the fire upon himself. Ruth was tempted to leap towards him the moment he dropped his blade, but her instincts warned her against it. She had yet to see the man's full capabilities. Who knows what he could do, and with the shield alone and his size, a wrestling match could be dangerous. Caution was in order, so the hybrid waited until the man had his sword again.

He gave her a glare, not too unlike other people tended to do when she sets them aflame. She supposed she couldn't blame him. But there was more to it, his hatred of her almost palpable as his eyes flashed red, and he moved once more.

A moment of a lull went, as the two combatants came within shorter distance of one another.

Ruth narrowed her amber eyes at him. There was something he was holding back in this battle, the red flash spoke of that alone. Perhaps he was a fellow fire wielder who'd just pretended to be hurt by her flames. It would certainly explain the hateful glare he had given her. Then again, if they both had fire, then hiding it was a poor move on his part.

He all but dove forward, long legs allowing for surprising speed as he brought his shield up. Ruth slithered aside, but she wasn't quite fast enough to dodge fully. His shield crashed against her arm, making her stumble a step.

Unfortunately for him, a slight flick of a wing and tail, and a magical tug on the earth beneath her heel made the woman recover her balance expertly. Her shield came up in time to deflect the blade, the hybrid grunting at the force behind it. The shoulder that took the blow of the man's sudden shield-bash began to ache, a low thrum of a bruise undoubtedly forming.

The pain of it was nothing new to Ruth. She didn't wait a heartbeat, bastard sword swiping up to cut across the man's torso. A moment later, with a puff of expelled breath, bright blue flames billowed out of her mouth akin to a true dragon's breath, aiming to once more set the man on fire.