<span style="font-style: italic">Tap tap tap.</span><br/><br/><br/>Ryder's long black nails clacked against the wood of her desk, breaking the silence in the room. She sat forward in her lush chair, piercing blue eyes scanning her notes meticulously. She bit her lip, deep in thought her eyes never wavering.<br/><br/>"So this is what I have to fight with, eh?" Her voice didn't boom like it did in the arena, the room to small to carry the echoes of her bone chilling tone. The black curtains didn't help much either, muffling her sound, the plush carpet dampening it as well. A screech suddenly rang through the air, coming from the portrait that hung on top of empty fireplace. Ryder glanced over to it, looking at her father's harsh gaze and set jaw, much like her own. Her falcon perched on her shoulder not much longer, leaving its spot on the corner of the painting and flapping it's wings towards the two Fighters that stood before her desk, cawing once again.<br/><br/>With an irritated sigh, she looked back over to them, her eyes settling on the human first. "You. Jason, correct? You're just a farm boy. You're meant to work in the fields. You're lucky I wanted to purchase you, I put more money in that old man's bank than I would have hoped. Sure you can lug a few haystacks, cut down some wheat, but I want to see what you're really made of. There aren't many humans in the Furnace, you know," she took a break to sip from her wine, swilling it around in the glass before glaring up at him again, "It would be wise not to disappoint me."<br/><br/>She turned the gargoyle standing next to him, her eyes narrowing. "And you. An actual creature, yes. But don't think that means you have an advantage. I've seen you fight before, and you're too reckless. Wipe that grin from your face and learn some decent skills. Maybe then, you'll earn an ounce of my respect. Don't disappoint me either, although I would just love to have a gargoyle to add to my fountain in the courtyards, I want you to earn me as much money as I paid for you. Wasted money if you ask me."<br/><br/>Ryder took a deep breath, standing up and placing her hands on the desk firmly. Recently, her three best Fighters tried to run away from her dungeons, ending in the ultimate punishment. Death. With the money she was willing to spend, she had picked up these two oafs, doubting her chances against Percival and his Fighters the next day. If they weren't as strong as she hoped, she would have to beat it into them. That's what her whip was for.<br/><br/>"I'll give you both a chance to explain to me why I should choose you. Meet my expectations, and you will be the one fighting tomorrow." She glared at both of them, raising her voice and making it firm and commanding, the hawk flying away out of the window as she growled, "Speak."