"In here." The guard growled, shoving Jarvan through the doorway. "Take your pick, but no funny business." The guard watched him for a few moments before locking the steel cage behind the prince. Jarvan sighed as she stepped further into the armorer's cage, looking for a weapon that fit his style. He unconsciously rubbed his head where the bastard had kicked him, frowning. The collection they had made available was quite impressive, arms and armor strewn about like it was nothing. Jarvan picked up a crossbow and looked at it, turning it upside down and examining the trigger mechanism before setting it back down. He moved past the assortment of bows and crossbows, ranged weaponry not really his forte. He found plenty of blades of all lengths, from knives and daggers to short swords and full wasters, nearly as long as he was tall. He hefted one of the swords but frowned, the weight felt top heavy in his hands. He paused, just long enough to pick out several knives and a short sword.
The short blade he chose came in a triangular sheath, the long blade hooked for most of the blade's length to give its swing more cutting power. Jarvan had seen them used before, they were good for beheading men and cutting through jungle terrain. He strapped the sheath to the back of his waist, the heavy leather belt he had been given cinched tight around his midsection. Jarvan also looked about for armor, but couldn't find any that fit well enough and would be light enough to fight with while staying mobile.
He dug through the armor plates, unable to find any that he really cared for and ended up cannibalizing a brigandine, removing some of the plates that would have covered his abdomen. He ended up with a chest piece that covered three-quarters of his chest, a large central plate coming up to just below his chin, a larger plate that covered the left side of his chest, and a pair of plates that wrapped over his shoulders and up to cover his neck along both sides. There was a back plate as well that covered most of the scaring from his extensive burns. The plates were held in place with heavy leather straps that ran under his right arm. He had also cannibalized the left arm of a suit of armor, a heavy gauntlet, spaulder, cowter and vambrace that encased his entire left arm in metal. It would limit his motion with that side of his body, but he attacked with his right arm and needed to keep his range of motion free without sacrificing any strength from his lance arm. He needed some armor to protect himself with though. He took a few other pieces here and there, assembling a makeshift set of gladiators armor at last, adding Faulds and Greaves to serve as the bare minimum on his lower body.
He continued to browse, picking out a collection of throwing knives in a wide, flat sheath. He piddled about getting them into position over his shoulder, but was satisfied when he could reach up over his shoulder with his right hand and grab a knife to throw. He also found a lance similar in weight and size to his own. It had a longer shaft and a shorter head then his lance, but the head was double sided and bladed, and was solid enough, if a bit short for his tastes.
Jarvan donned a Barbute, its T shaped visor menacing but easy to see out of and keep his spatial awareness. The helmet was a bit loose, but if Jarvan lost it, he figured he'd have more trouble than just a lost helmet to worry about. He was looking around, satisfied with his finds until he saw something sitting off to the side, buried behind a pile of wooden and steel bucklers. Shaped from solid steel, there was a buckler and manifer set shaped like a dragon's head and jaw. The small shield wasn't all that large, no longer that his thigh and not much wider, but it had horns and fangs that could be used as a weapon in a pinch. It was heavy, but the protection it offered would easily make it worth it. Jarvan grinned as he strapped the buckler onto his arm, flexing his left hand around the guard. The manifer fit snugly on his right arm, and when he strapped it on, he still had a fairly free range of motion for his lance.
Satisfied with his arms and armor, Jarvan sat down, the armor heavy but reassuring. He had felt bare without his armor before, and he'd rather go into a fight with extra equipment and be able to discard it then look back and need it in hindsight. He sighed, running a hand along the shield, its dragon-like shape reminiscent of Shyvana's dragon form, the shape remarkably similar. He grinned slightly, shaking his head wondering exactly what had happened to Shyvana. With any luck, she and the others, Forsythe, Quinn and Isaacs, would all be returning to Demacia soon. He closed his eyes as he leaned back on the bench, waiting for the guard, his mind wandering to wild ideas about how he was going to escape.
Shyvana shot the guards a nasty look as they escorted her into the arena, the platform rising up into the open pit, the familiar roar of the crowd echoing around her. She could hear it, she could feel it, but it almost seemed as if it wasn't there, her mind wandering. She dreaded the thought of getting stuck here in Noxus, fighting for the entrainment of thousands of weaklings. She had many desires of her own, and despite what little headway she had made in her search for the red-haired witch and the man named Talon, she was confident she would find them soon enough. She shrugged in the foreign armor, the replacements given to her by the guards for her to make do with uncomfortable against her skin.
Shyvana raised Jarvan's lance above her head, the crowd roaring its approval as she did; their bloodlust insatiable. Shyvana let the lance rest on her shoulder, her hood up and the scarf wrapped around her face. It brought much less trouble when guards and people didn't stop her because of fangs or the color of her hair, and she had enough trouble as it was with the burgeoning flock of fans that she had garnered in her previous fight. She frowned underneath the scarf and hood, tossing the cloak over one shoulder. She had grown accustomed to the heavy Noxian armor, but this set didn't seem to fit all that well, and at times she wondered if the lance was a good weapon for herself. It mostly just impeded her strikes, but it did give her leverage and good reach for fights, which was invaluable.
Shyvana soured as the crowd booed her competitor, the man rising up out of the ground on the opposing platform. He had a lance at his feet as he kneeled over the weapon laid upon the ground. He was escorted by four guards, each with a long pole that was attached to a ring on a brace that was wrapped around his neck. They removed the poles, backing away slowly, till they lined one of the many doorways that led from the arena, the heavy steel and wood doors barred from the inside. They held their poles like spears, heavy swords hanging on their belts.
The man stood, shaking his head, lifting the spear from the ground. He spun the weapon about in his free hand, planting the blade in the dirt as he adjusted the plates he wore on his forearms.
"Trying to mock me, eh?" Shyvana growled, grinning as she eyed the dragon's head shield he wore on his left arm. He settled into vaguely a familiar fighting stance, lowering himself to the ground as he did, the tip of his lance held back and low to the ground, away from his body, the shaft across his back. He kept the dragon's face shield up, across the front of his body in a defensive manner. Shyvana smirked, her eyes glowing at the taunts, as she unsheathed Jarvan's lance. She watched with mock satisfaction as her opponent let his guard fall just a bit when she flourished the weapon, spinning it and planting it as he had, albeit slightly less gracefully.
"Welcome to The Pit!" The announcer roared from the box, high above the arena. The crowd roared its approval, the special event having drawn out most of the city, the grand stands left with standing room only. The crowd roared, shaking the ground beneath her feet, Shyvana pumping her arms above her head just enough to elicit a response.
"Today, we have a special execution, carried out by the newest member of the Noxian Military, Dragon-hide!" Shyvana's eye twitched at the name, her shoulders drooping.
"Really?" Shyvana hissed, sighing. "And since when was I a member of the Noxian military?" She cracked her fingers, flexing her fists as she pulled Jarvan's lance from the ground, holding it before her with both hands. She smirked. "No matter. I'll be done with this fool and get the hell out of here. I shall dance on their ashes if necessary."
"Let the battle begin!" The announcer shouted, the crowd exploding as Shyvana surveyed the stands. She frowned, turning back to see her opponent charging forward, already halving the distance between them. He came in low, leaning into his charge, his weapon etching marks in the ground as he sprinted at her. He was fast, much faster than she would have thought, his weapon coming up and across his body, led by the shield. Shyvana tried to raise the lance to block the attack, but he batted the lance away with the shield and followed through with his own lance, striking her in the side. He had struck with the blunt side of the weapon, the blow only surprising and stinging Shyvana.
She growled as she rolled way from the blow, holding her side as she came out on all fours, one hand managing to hold onto the lance. Her opponent stood over her, his weapon pointed at her neck, just barely touching the scarf that covered most of her face. Shade hid her eyes and she couldn't see her opponent's face, the reflection of the sun gleaming off his helmet, blinding her and silhouetting his eyes.
"Where did you get that weapon?" He roared.
Shyvana ignored him, sweeping her foot around and striking upwards and out, striking the shield he raised in defense. She twirled on her hands, spinning around, using her waist as the axis as she struck under the shield with the other foot, planting it just below the armored plate that covered the left side of his chest. He exhaled sharply as the attack struck, sending him crashing to the side. He collapsed onto the ground, heaving as he did.
"Eye for an eye." Shyvana roared, sprinting at him, spinning the lance over her head. He was just getting to his knees as Shyvana used the lance to vault herself into the air, driving the blade down towards him. He tossed himself out of the way, rolling through the dirt, one of the plates on his armor snapping loose. The armor on his chest fell away, revealing an array of scars. Shyvana dove at him again as he shook the armor off, tossing it at her as he rolled away a second time. The dragoness tangled with the armor plates and crashed to the ground, tossing the plates away as he came up, her lance on the ground. The warrior reached over his shoulder, his arm snapping straight out, a knife spinning through the air directly at Shyvana's head.
Shyvana dove and rolled as she snatched the lance from the ground, raising it just in time to knock it aside, the blade still leaving a shallow gash on her face, cutting through her hood as she tried it dodge the weapon. It ripped her hood back, revealing her red hair and glowing orange dragon's slit eyes as she swept the lance back, flames swirling around her hands as she sprinted. Flames exploded under her feet with every step she took as she surged forward and brandished the lance like a club. She struck out in a wide arc, the man leaving his guard completely open, the lance striking him on the shoulder, slicing through the iron plating, and landing shallowly in his arm. He stood shakily on his feet as he backed away, blood dripping down his arm. Shyvana ripped the lance from his plating, his legs shaking as he stumbled.
"Wait!" He shouted, raising his arm submissively, but Shyvana had already raised the lance back, striking again. He tugged his shoulder up, trying to put the shield between him and the lance, but the weapon just cracked off the plating on his arm again, only leaving a dent this time. He jerked his shoulder up, tossing the shield into the air, blocking her third strike, but Shyvana roared, spinning around, twirling on her toes, and swinging the lance around in another wide arc. He threw himself backwards and crashed to the ground, finally putting distance between himself and the infuriated dragoness.
"Wait?" Shyvana snarled. "Wait for what!? This is an execution!" She raised the lance up and charged, leaping into the air on wings of flame. She arced through the air towards him, the tip of the lance aimed directly for his heart. The warrior raised a fist in front of his face and dropped to one knee as blue wisps began to swirl around his body. One raced past Shyvana's face, taking her by surprise. A brilliant golden bubbled from around him as she brought the lance down, catching her midair. She hung against the shield as it run like a hammer striking steel, the force of the impact reverberating back up at her. Shyvana snarled as she poured her flames onto the shield. The bubble sunk into the ground, carving a shallow divot under the warrior's feet. The bubble exploded, sending Shyvana tumbling up into the air and the warrior stumbling backwards. Shyvana rolled, using the heat of her flames to propel her down towards him, the lance swept back for a massive strike.
"SHYVANA!" The dragoness froze, but the weapon was already flying through the air. The lance struck him upside the head as she crashed to the ground like a cannonball, knocking him through the air, spinning him about and dumping him on the dirt where he lay sprawled and unmoving. Shyvana blinked, pulling the scarf down, looking at the body.
Wait… that golden shield… it can't be… Shyvana felt her heart ache and her stomach twisted itself into a knot as she felt tears begin to well in her eyes. There was a familiar scar that covered most of the warriors back, the burns from a dragon's flames. Shyvana shrunk to her knees next to the man, her hand hovering over her mouth, the lance falling from her hand, landing in the dust.
"How..." Shyvana breathed, the roar of the crowd now a distant rumble, both anger and confusion echoing from the stands as the fight came to an abrupt halt. Shyvana reached out, barely touching him, his back rising and falling slowly as guards swarmed into the arena. Shyvana rolled the warrior over, his arm bleeding profusely. The man groaned as the dragoness pulled the helmet from his head, black hair spilling onto the ground around him. She brushed the hair from his face, leaning over him with a worried look on her face as tears rolled down her face, dripping onto Jarvan. "How are you alive?" She whispered, looking over him. "How... how is this possible?"
"Damnit that hurt..." Jarvan groaned, his eyes fluttering open, a bashful grin on his face as Shyvana's lip quivered.
"I thought you were dead!" Shyvana cried, her face screwed up as she broke down, tears pouring down her face. She fell onto Jarvan's chest, tears pouring down her face as she struck him softly on the shoulder as sobs wracked her body. "You jerk!"
"Sorry." Jarvan said softly, letting his head fall back.
"...Jerk." Shyvana murmured, sniffing sadly.
"Sorry." Jarvan repeated, closing his eyes.
"I missed you... so much..." Shyvana said, her voice small as she screwed her face up, trying not to let any more tears fall. Jarvan felt several wet drops strike his cheek as the dragoness hovered over him, looking down as him with those large, magenta orbs.
"And I, you..." Jarvan said quietly, reaching up with his good hand to touch her face, wiping a tear away with a dusty hand. He grinned as it left a dirty streak across her face. Shyvana sniffed as she tried not to laugh, a tear still running down her cheek, the spark in her eye dancing about happily.
"How did you get here?" Shyvana asked, still hanging over him, a mix of disbelief and giddiness in her voice.
"It's a tale for another day..." Jarvan said, smiling and sighing contently, letting his hand rest upon her arm, just the connection he felt from the gesture more than enough to cause his heart to soar. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, opening them again as guards approached, weapons pointed towards Jarvan and Shyvana as she wiped her face of the tears. "We have company." Jarvan growled. Shyvana helped him to his feet, his arm draped around her neck, the young dragoness helping hold him up. The guards stood well away, holding spears, poles, lances and all manner of long weapon pointed at them. Jarvan snorted.
"I don't expect that it's me that people are afraid of for once." Jarvan chuckled.
Shyvana smirked. "Can you stand on your own?" She asked, looking up at the prince. Jarvan worked his jaw, rubbing the side of his face, raising his left arm slowly, hissing in pain. He glanced at Shyvana who looked pitiful, a mere shadow of the rage she had just embodied. He hoped that she would be able to turn it back on though. The guards slowly began to close the gap around them.
"I think so." Jarvan winced, grinning sheepishly. "As good a crutch as you make, I think I'm going to need this arm." He flexed the fingers on his good arm. He bent over, exhaling hard as he picked up his lance.
"Sorry about that..." Shyvana said, examining the gauntlets that Jarvan had carried with him. One had a dent in it, but Shyvana looked satisfied with them as she strapped the larger one onto her right hand, flexing her fingers around the gauntlet. She strapped the smaller manifer to her left arm and then raised them up, making the head of a dragon with the armor, grinning as she did. She flexed her hands around the grips, settling into a fighting stance.
"Those definitely suit you better than me." Jarvan grinned. Shyvana nodded, taking a deep breath as she let fire begin to pour from her right hand. It billowed up through the nostrils of the shield menacingly.
"So what's the plan?" Shyvana asked, pressing her back to Jarvan's.
"Kill a bunch of Noxians, then fly out of here." Jarvan murmured, raising his lance as a man approached the circle of guards from the outside. They parted for him to enter, closing the gap behind him as he entered. The man had an air of sophistication about him, though Jarvan was surprised that it was discernible underneath all he grease that coated his hair. He wore a dueling sword on his belt, fancy and gold plated, the weapon hanging sheathed at his side. He also wore a similarly fashioned dagger across his chest, though the dagger bore a crest on the hilt that the prince could only assume was the crest of his House of Noxus. Jarvan raised his lance, putting it between him and the approaching man, his crisp officer's uniform starched stiff as a board.
"Greetings, warrior." The officer said officiously, bowing his head. Even his voice reeked of sophistication. Jarvan would have dismissed the man as a simple salesman, a merchant who wanted to look pretty, if it weren't for his eyes. They were cold and calculating like the eyes of a killer. Jarvan shivered as he locked gazes with the man. "You seem to be quite well acquainted with our newest champion, here." He gestured to Shyvana. She paid him no heed, simply continuing to watch the guards for any sudden movements.
"I am." Jarvan said, slowly beginning to turn as the man began to pace just outside of range, his steps slow and metered. "She is my partner. What of it?" Shyvana felt her heartstrings tug as she listened to his voice. It had seemed like an eternity since she heard it, and she had to fight to stay focused.
"How very sentimental." The Noxian mused, nodding slowly.
"We got separated on our way here." Jarvan said, his voice even. He struggled to keep it from sounding almost jovial, but he wasn't entirely successful. A small smile started to spread across his lips. "I greatly appreciate you bringing her to me, it made my search that much easier."
"Oh, I'm glad you think so." The officer chuckled politely. "Pardon me, warrior, but I was under the assumption that you were a prisoner who was to be executed."
"And I was under the assumption that I was fighting a Noxian Gladiator." Jarvan said, mirroring the officer's cheekiness. "Not a Demacian Warrior." Jarvan noticed the subtle change in the officer's stance. His smile was much more strained, his gloved hand now stretched tight over a fist that quaked atop his saber. "We all make improper assumptions some time. I shall forgive you this time."
"Then it would seem I have a problem." The officer mused, even his voice becoming strained, stroking his goatee with one hand, the other resting atop his saber. "Today, there was supposed to be an execution." He slid the saber from its sheath, eying the sparkling blade proudly. Jarvan could smell the stench of blood upon the blade from where he stood, even in the blood soaked arena. The smell was fresh and steely, sharp to the nose. "And I find that instead of a prisoner I know nothing about being executed..." He paused, waving the blade through the air lazily, "That so far, the only person who has had to die was one of the guards who so haplessly failed to inform me of the PREDISPOSITION YOU TWO SHARED." He roared, his face contorting in rage. "Explain to me, how exactly it is that one of you is not lying gutted on the floor right now?"
"I'd rather not." Jarvan said, a cheeky grin on his face as he raised his lance horizontally in front of him, his middle finger extended.
"Y-y-you!" The man stammered. The guards parted behind him once more, letting a familiar face through again. Jarvan went rigid, and Shyvana could suddenly feel the tension in his aura.
"Jarvan..." Shyvana whispered, worried about his sudden change. She could feel how he had jerked, his entire body now frozen solid, not even breathing.
"Enough of these games, Darkwill." Swain muttered, waving the brash younger man aside. "I knew this one had traveling companions, but I would have never guessed that he would have been traveling in the company of a filthy half-beast." Swain chuckled, his raven screeching as it ruffled its feathers.
"I have no need of more of your treachery and games, Swain." Darkwill muttered. "I demand these impudent fools be executed at once."
"You fail to see the bigger picture." Swain said, tapping his fingertips along his cane, his red eyes flashing something dangerous at his younger counterpart. "You see, this young gentleman is none other than Crown Prince Jarvan IV, heir to the Lightshield Dynasty and the Demacian Throne."
Darkwill's eyes expanded in shock. "How... where..." He sputtered, turning back to Swain as Jarvan watched the exchange silently. Shyvana listened on as well, the memory that Jarvan was very much the crown prince coming as a bit of a shock to her as well. She knew he had been called prince, but he had never spoken at length of his heritage.
"It is of little importance, but it seems as though we have a problem." Swain grinned cruelly, setting his eyes back upon Jarvan. "I can't deny involvement any longer. If your little half-blood friend had been so polite as to make sure you had died, things would have been easier to deal with after we had executed her, but alas, it seems we might need to resort to something far more devious."
"By the blood of my father..." Shyvana muttered through gritted teeth. "I will end them..." She stepped away from Jarvan, fire swirling about her gauntlets as she took a deep breath, horns bursting from her skull with a sickening ripping sound, her skin turning a deep blue. She snarled as her hands turned to massive claws, the gauntlets falling away. She sucked in a deep breath and then summoned a tunnel of flames between her hands, blowing a wall of flames out towards the ground. She spun around Jarvan, spraying a wall of flames that exploded around them, some of it engulfing the guards, many of them caught by surprise, dying slowly as the immense heat and flames burned them alive. She turned towards Swain who looked surprised as Shyvana reared her head back, howling in rage as she hunched over, her arms exploding outwards, a tail springing from her back, her nose elongating into a snout. She roared as the armor and fabric she wore fell away, the blue armored skin of a full dragon rising up from the ground.
The crowd, which had been jeering and booing the guards and the event up until now started to scream and panic, many fearing they would be burned alive or eaten by the dragon that had suddenly appeared. Shyvana sucked in a deep breath, her chest expanding and glowing a menacing orange, and sprayed a mostly empty section of the stadium with a column of fire, black smoke and flames reaching to the sky as she sewed panic around the coliseum.
Shyvana turned, batting away the man who had been referred to as 'Darkwill' as he ran forth and tried to plant his blade in Shyvana's belly. He was knocked back and stunned as he managed to just barely sink the blade in, Shyvana screeching in pain as he did. Shyvana released a gout of flames towards where Swain had stood, but the man was already calmly hobbling away. He paused, looking back over his shoulder, locking stares with Jarvan a split second before Jarvan turned back towards Darkwill. Jarvan grabbed him by his collar, his sword now well out of his grasp, and tossed him away. Held his lance under the crook of his bad arm, and ripped the blade free of Shyvana's chest, tossing it at the man where he still sat stunned in the dirt. It landed between his legs, the hilt waggling as it stuck, blade down mere inches away from his manhood.
"Hop on!" Shyvana roared, her voice rumbling as she swiped her tail out, knocking aside guards who were trying to make their way through the flames to Darkwill.
Jarvan grabbed her neck and she tossed him up, holding onto his lance with his good hand, wrapping it around her neck. Shyvana lifted her head to the sky and roared, tossing her head back and forth before running, spreading her wings and leaping towards the grandstands. She couldn't do much more than glide in the confined space of the arena and despite the powerful jump, Jarvan's weight was too much for her to carry in her injured state. She clawed at the grandstand wall, latching on as Jarvan held on for dear life, Shyvana sprinting up the grandstands five rows at a time. She was nearing the edge and only gaining speed.
"Hold on!" Shyvana roared, her voice rumbling as she thundered up the grandstands, a swath of destruction left in her wake.
"Wait... wait... WAIT!" Jarvan shouted, gripping his legs around her body, the powerful muscles propelling her up through the air. Shyvana spread her wings, as they hung in the air, Jarvan opening his eyes just long enough to look out over the city. If he hadn't been running for his life, in Noxus, and Shyvana hadn't been a dragon, the view would have been romantic, but that all changed when they slowly started to fall.
"The landing might be a bit rough..." Shyvana rumbled, her voice strained as she struggled to stay in her dragon form. The ground was slowly coming up to meet them, rapidly getting closer and closer as they crashed down towards the ground. They crashed down across the roof of a large building, Shyvana scampering for grip and balance, trying to keep from plowing into another building. Her legs crushed wooden beams and roofing tiles as if they were nothing. She was only able to kick off of the building, crashing onto another roof and then crashing straight through it, leaving a clean swath straight through the top of the building. She struggled to slow herself and Jarvan as they careened towards a chimney, the tall brick structure rising up in front of them. Shyvana crashed into it, still flying at great speed, destroying the chimney and tumbling up across the next roof. They were propelled into the air once more, but this time, Jarvan felt Shyvana shrinking underneath him, the impact with the Chimney having knocked her out, the exertion it taking to remain in the dragon form finally taking its toll as she reverted to her human form, the frail body tumbling with him as he fell through the air.
Jarvan watched in slow motion as they headed down towards a pool of water, twisting about midair, holding Shyvana close to him as the pool came up to meet them, summoning his Lightshield at the last second to cushion their fall. The bright yellow light encircled them as they crashed down into the fountain like a cannon ball, a pillar of water reaching to the sky as they struck.