"Not quitting. These are games, not fights. A real warrior would keep fighting after that. Tomorrow will be better if they don't disqualify us first." Aphos sulks over a plate in his armor, trying to get it flipped up and tinkering with a strange, runed stone underneath.

Misha gives Aphos a brotherly pat on the back, tossing her wooden hammer aside. "Steel, you deed well, my new friend. Battle real or not, every chence ees chence to earn glory. Honor will always be weeth us."

"Well I have some good news, at least. You didn't kill the dwarf, he's still breathing and the healers are working to save him as we speak."

Misha's eyes widen to the size of deener plates and her smile is broad.

"Oh, praise the General's Hammer.." she breathes, very relieved, and visibly relaxing. "Ees very good news, thank you for telling me!"

She gets down on one knee, and hangs her head low in a silent prayer.

Thank you Lord General Tyrant Bane for allowing me to participate in thees challenge. You have blessed me with a chance to gain honor and glory in your name, and spared the life of one of the combatants. I live and die in your name. May your infinite tactics and weesdom guide me further.

Meanwhile, the now-triplet Dornos takes another swing at mustachio, aiming for center mass with a pointed staff strike, coming from the left.

10

Mustachio is swinging wildly at the Dornoses who duck and weave about, the real Dornos sidesteps his thrust.

12 1

“Your form is lacking,” says Dornos, slapping his staff down on the flailing man’s back. 

13

As Dornos's staff smacks Mustachio in the back, the man tumbles forward and Dornos hears a single person clapping nearby. Fleia is standing next to her mount and hops toward you, leaning heavily on the large raptor for support. You realize for the first time that she only has one leg. 

"Well struck, and a wonderful trick you have there with the illusory images." Then without skipping a beat she says, "I've selected ten of the twenty of you for tomorrows games. Report in at noon to armor up and prepare." She points to the Dornos, the mustached gentleman, the teleporting elven woman, Aphos, Misha, the rope dart wielder, the rousing crazy-eyed dwarf, and three others. "You should register your names and those of your next of kin with my attendant Hildi." She indicates a human woman standing behind and towering over her. "If you've any questions best ask now, there won't be time prior to the games."

Fleia pulls herself up onto her mount, and resumes her side-saddle seated position.

“As a first time combatant, I would like to know what the rules of engagement are,” asks Dornos. “How is a victor determined?”

Fleia shrugs, "Honestly, the Master of Ceremonies is in charge of all that. What I can tell you is that it depends on the game he has in store. Most frequently the games start with a race of some kind with obstacles, then a fight between gladiators and animals, then a few matched battles, and a grand finale most often a dual between returning champions. For matches between gladiators, it ends when one combatant yields or is killed. Even if one yields it's possible that they'll end up dead. They can appeal to the Master of Ceremonies, more often than not he'll let them live, but on occasion..." she trails off.

Meera heads down to the trio, congratulating Dornos on his victory and the rest of them on making it in to tomorrow's matches. "You all did great! I'm sorry that I couldn't help, but I'll be cheering for you along with Sherri. Although I can't promise that I'll be as..inspiring as Sherri is."

“Many thanks, was fun!” Misha then slaps her forehead as if she forgot something very eemportant. ”Ach! Of course! How could forget!” She takes Sherri by the shoulders and pulls her in, and gives her a single mighty kiss on the leeps. “MUAH! Thank you for cheering us! I like way you geev inpiration!” She lets Sherri go, nodding satisfactorily.

Sherri ran up to the three, grinning from ear to ear. “Nice job guys, now y’all better bring your A game tomorrow, yeah?” She gives a quick elbow shove to Meera. “You’re plenty inspiring, in your own nerdy way.” The bard gives a laugh, distracted from Misha’s impending smooch attack until it actually happened, the brunette giving the Paladin a look of bewilderment when she pulled away and she fell silent for a moment...

”Can I get a few more of those?” She laughs again, waving a hand dismissively as if to say she was joking around but gave a sly wink over to Misha if she had been paying attention. “Thanks! I’ll try and inspire you guys before the games again, but make it count! I better not see any of you guys die, alright?”

As the party makes their way out from the arena, some attendants apply ointment to any wounds that they might have, the tall lanky attendant from before hands over contracts to the newly registered combatants, and nods once they have been completed and handed back in. 

The way to Kaya's seems longer and the late afternoon heat is even more scorching somehow than it was at midday, leaving the party ready for rest. Musharib talks at length about how delicious ata fruit is and how the ones here in the city proper don't do the fruit justice because they are farmed, and the ones that grow in the nutrient rich volcanic earth near Hrakhamar are the most delicious. 

As you stroll from the coliseum back to Kaya's House of Repose, you hear a siren in the distance. People appear to be running toward their homes, and a handful of heavily armored guard march past you. Musharib gives them a once over, "Best be headin' ta Kaya's post haste, sirens means loose dinosaurs or worse, an' guards means they're inside the gates."

He starts shuffling a bit faster.

"We should go to Kaya's. We've got a busy day tomorrow and I'm sure that the guards can handle this on their own."

Misha's gaze followed the guards for a bit, but after those trials, her stomach gave a mighty growl. She gave it a nice affectionate pat. "Agreed. Hef quite an appetite after that challenge. Come, lets us go eat!"

"Hmm" Aphos strokes his chin for a moment, "I wonder if the guards need any help?"

"I trust that the guards can handle this issue without our assistance."

The streets are all but empty, as you continue onward. The party catches glimpses of a handful of people as they close their doors and lock their windows.

When the party arrives at Kaya's the number of guards who normally line the street is diminished, but there are still a pair at the cross street and a pair in front of the inn. The guards nod at the party as they pass and it's noticeable that all of the doors and windows are closed along this block. Musharib strides up to the front door of Kaya's House of Repose and knocks loudly. "Oi, let us pass, we be payin' customers. Have paid ahead even." 

Leander opens the door with a nervous smile, "Ah, young masters, come in, come in. Don't worry none about the sirens, this happens on occasion and the guard are always ready for it. No need to be alarmed. Come, have a seat, there's a table right over here. Hey, out you two! You should be serving drinks and food! Apologies, please have a seat." he chases a pair of boys from the table, they look to be related, perhaps grandchildren. He wipes down the table quickly then takes his leave. 

As the party takes their seats the boys take everyone's orders for food and drink and bring dinner plates and utensils and an large serving dish with a giant black crustacean on it surrounded by various root and leafy vegetables with a thick creamy sauce. For most of the party the ingredients themselves are hard to identify. 

Dornos;

perception 15 or higher can read the following spoiler :

Meera attempts to discern what's in her dish.

Perception: 18

Nature: 10

She spends a significant deal of time examining the fish and vegetables, enough to where she has to reassure her comrades that she will indeed eat what's in front of her. She also orders a glass of water, to keep her wits about her.