<div class="floatright">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/d/de/30FD3D63-6034-4098-B788-9E4ACF35E53A.jpeg)<br/></div><strong>Name: </strong>Katra<br/><strong>Race/Class: </strong>Human Psi-Fighter<br/><strong>HP:</strong>22/24<strong>Armor:</strong>currently 3, ordinarily 5<strong>XP:</strong>3/9<br/><strong>Effects:</strong>Bloodweed: The target deals -1d4 damage ongoing until cured<br/><strong>Action:</strong><br/><br/><br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Stats</div><div class="spoiler_body">Strength: 8 (-1)    Constitution: 16 (+2) Dexterity: 9 (+0)<br/>Intelligence: 16 (+2) Wisdom: 13 (+1) Charisma: 13 (+1)<br/><br/>Human Reroll: 1/1<br/>Void Raven’s Feather: 1/1<br/><br/>Coins: 38<br/>Adventuring Gear: 5/5<br/>Dungeon Rations: 5/5<br/>Healing Poultice 1/2<br/>Healing Kit 5/5<br/></div></div><hr/><br/>There were times when a bout could be salvaged.  There were times to swallow one's pride.  She'd known things were not going to go well, but by Katra's estimation, things had gotten to where she expected them to go,<em>almost</em>without fakery on her part.  Sure, Valna's behavior would need to be explained, and she needed to find an antidote for the poison, but...<br/><br/>It didn't take much faking on her part to raise her hands, dropping her shield along the way.  Part of her showed rage, part of her<em>knowing</em>she could win if she could use her proper weapon.  Katra wasn't entirely a pure and kind person by any means, and she<em>wanted</em>to win in her own way; she just knew she had no chance.<br/><br/>With everyone going according to the plans she'd expected, and with Lord Blackcrest no longer screaming in defiance, she simply spoke the words, "I yield."<br/><br/>Still, some urge to reclaim some sake of her own pride returned.  With the duel over, she stepped back afterwards in a nonthreatening manner with the match over to produce her psiblade, currently a gigantic crescent like a scimitaur but oversized and dancing with spiraling fractals.  It was tempting to say something threatening, demand a rematch, but it'd come off cheesy and desperate.  Ultimately, she forced an unfelt smile as she bowed to the crowd and saluted with her real weapon.  "Hopefully, the next chance I enter this arena, I'll get to use the weapon I'm best at."<br/><br/>It shouldn't bother her.  She'd set up so much to lose.  Yet the laughter still cut her in its own way.