To the roaring cheers of the crowd, the two gladiatrixes entered the arena from opposite ends. From the northern gate strode Kria, a tall, redhaired barbarian maiden. She was clad in a short leather skirt, studded with bronze disks, with a band of leather around her ample bosom. She had a short axe in one hand, a shield in the other. At the south gate was Herka, a dark haired woman dressed in black leather trousers and jacket, wielding a long sword with a dagger in her off hand.

The two women glared daggers at each other as they came to a stop, sizing each other up while the announcer announced the upcoming bout. For two years, the rivalry between the two gladiatrixes had been simmering. Now, one way or another, matters would be settled between them.

Up in the royal box, the Empress raised a hand. The crowds stilled to a murmur, waiting in breathless anticipation as the combatants readied their weapons, each dropping into a fighting stance. Finally, she let her hand drop, signaling the start of the match.

The fighters closed the distance, warily. For the first minute, they circled, making small feints, quick swings and thrusts to test the reactions, without overextending themselves too quickly so early into the fight. It was Kria who made the first real move, giving a loud barbaric war cry as she rushed forward, shield ready to block Herka’s blades as she swung her own axe downward. The other woman scrambled back, out of the way. Kria grinned.

“Just as I thought...” She said, tauntingly. “You were never a match for me!” She advanced another quick two steps, her axe flashing. Hekra dodged nimbly to the side, circling around clockwise, blades poised and ready but wherever she stabbed, the barbarian’s shield appeared suddenly, stopping them cold while her axe was quick to respond. Thus far, she’d been able to dodge out of the way, but it was only a matter of time before she slipped up. Though the weapons were enchanted to prevent combatants from killing each other, the force of the blows was still just as forceful. A single swing of the barbarian’s powerful axe might be enough to end the fight in her favor.

On and on it went, Kria dominating her opponent who steadily gave ground. Just as the two neared one wall of the arena, Hekra lunged forward with a flurry of blade and dagger, forcing Kria to hold her own, long enough for the other woman to circle around. Not fast enough to get around that broad shield, but she wouldn’t have to worry about being forced against a wall.

“Come on!” Kria snarled, angrily. “Stand and fight like a woman!” She started forward again, when suddenly she felt a sharp prick against one side of her belly, between the leather of her skirt and top. It wasn’t the hard body blow of an enchanted weapon… She risked a quick look down and saw a tiny dart sticking in her. A blowgun...from someone up in the crowd no doubt. She looked around but could not see it.

When she turned her attention back to her opponent, the grin on Hekra’s face told her everyone she needed to know. “Cheater!” She snarled, already feeling a numbness spread through her body as the drugged dart took hold.

“It’s only cheating if you get caught.” Hekra responded with a grin, unleashing a flurry of attacks of her own. Kria raised her shield, her arm losing strength fast and sure enough the tip of Hekra’s blade slipped underneath it to brush against her stomach. When that happened, it felt as though someone had gone and punched her hard in the gut. Under normal circumstances, such as blow would have been nothing to the barbarian, but with the drug in her system, she staggered back, fighting to regain her footing.

Unfortunately, her opponent was determined not to give her that chance and followed hard on her, blades singing through the air. Again and again, they slipped past the sluggish barbarian’s shield and axe, the magic force slamming her again and again. Finally, she could take it no longer and fell to the ground. There, she found she could not rise, the drugs having left her conscious, but helpless.

Hekra raised her weapons in false triumph as the stadium erupted into cheers. More people rushed onto the field, Hekra’s minions. A few of them saw to their Mistress while the rest swarmed round the defeated barbarian. Her axe and shield were pulled away, then her leathers were removed, stripping her naked. New leathers were brought over, but now in the form of straps, which soon lashed her arms and legs tightly. A band of leather covered her mouth, silencing her snarls of rage.

As Kria was pulled to her knees, she saw Hekra circling the arena, holding something aloft for the crowd. It was a polished bronze collar. The barbarian shook with rage, chewing on the leather strap in her mouth and grunting angrily, but even had she not been drugged helpless, the straps would have more then done the job of keeping her down as the other gladiatrix now returned to her defeated foe and with a good deal of pageantry, bent down and affixed the collar around her opponent, her prize.

“I win!” She told the angry barbarian. “You belong to me now and I assure you, I will enjoy this very much!”