Ryder remained silent as her Fighters were speaking, pleading their strengths that would come in handy when competing in the Furnace. She closed her eyes and listened, paying close attention to the wavers in their voice, the confidence they both had. Her falcon came back, a trail of feathers behind it, perching on her shoulder yet again and staring down the two, its red eyes catching the glint of moonlight through the window.<br/><br/>Ryder's eyes finally shot open after the gargoyle spoke, narrowing almost instantly. She didn't like his cockiness. He made himself more than what he really was, taking for granted his wings that could easily be clipped by herself. And the human. He didn't stand a chance, yet he used his working skills and compared them to combat. Unbelievable, she thought. To make matters worse, they showed no respect towards her, not addressing her as the deceased Fighters did, no "ma'am", "Master", nothing!<br/><br/>This would not do. Ryder had to nip this in the bud, make them truly hers. Slowly, she paced around the desk, her sleek  heels not making a sound on the floor. She wore a violet evening dress, a gold pendant draped around her neck. Across her shoulders laid a black scarf, her falcon's claws digging into it and staying upright with amazing balance. She looked every inch the aristocrat, but that was only a facade. The woman was ruthless. She stood a few feet away from the two fighters, glaring up at Jason and staring down at Harklas. Her face twisted into a scowl as with one fluid motion, she snatched the whip from her hip, the falcon sensing her movement and flying elsewhere. She cracked it down in front of Jason, her voice booming as she scolded him, "You really do think you would last a minute in that arena with one if Percival's beasts?! Open your eyes, farm boy, this ain't the country!" She mocked his southern accent, bringing the whip down again right in front of his nose, "Your work ethics won't contribute out there as much as you think they do, so stop dreaming! Hands are nothing against claws!"<br/><br/>Fiercely, she then turned to the gargoyle, her glare burning even brighter and piercing even harder, "And you, thinking you're always a step before the rest, don't ya?", Once again she lashed the whip out at him, narrowly missing his chest. "Relying on the wings is a mistake, they can be clipped just as easily as they can lift you into the air! A thousand and one reasons, huh?," She aimed the leather coil at his wings this time, "Prove it to me!"<br/><br/>Just as quickly as her anger erupted, it subsided, her face growing calm again as she spun the whip into a circle, placing it on her hip once more. She closed her eyes, breathing heavily and thinking once again. "Harklas, you will be fighting tomorrow. Let's see how you come out, in one piece, or completely shattered." She had no doubt that she would lose, her instincts telling her that Percival's brutes would completely maul them. She started to panic, for the first time in years. Ryder was truly afraid of losing. No, she told herself. This would be a learning experience. Harklas would see just what he was up against and then he would shut his mouth.<br/><br/>And then there was Jason. Sending him out there to his death would be enjoyable, but not beneficial. She remembered that whoever won this Match would face off against the girl and her elf, her name she couldn't recall. If she won... If. Jason would have more chances of winning against an elf than against an orc or a lizard. This was her only option, and at this point she had no where else to turn. Her decision was final.<br/><br/>Ryder opened her eyes again, glaring at the two. "You will both be sleeping in the dungeons below tonight, with no meals. You have to earn a bed in my mansion, and so far you have shown no reverence to me, at least none to my liking. I'll feed you once you do. You are both dismissed."<br/><br/>She said nothing more, turning around and sitting at her desk again, not looking up from her paperwork as the falcon came back, alighting itself on her shoulder once again and watching the Fighters with suspicious eyes. It cawed, as if shooing them away.