Donning Identification

[Tyrion]

The contender stood up. Normally being knocked down by him insinuated a stinging lesson. The mans legs were shaky and his fists slowly made their way up into a defensive fighting stance. The peek-a-boo style was standard for most people without an inkling. This contender spit the blood out and wiped the remaining vestiges away with a clenched fist; the contender inched forward to re-engage him. He recognized that it wouldn't be much longer now. He looked over to the bookie. The bookie nodded his head, the sign he had been waiting for. The challengers in the pit-fights lacked a certain, panache, for this type of combat. He waited for the last possible moment before striking. The contender made a lazy attempt at a jab; he deflected it and moved in. The contender nimbly danced out of arms-reach as he made a quick dash forward. He stopped mid-dash and pondered for a moment. "Is he playing me," he thought to himself. "Guess I'll find out soon enough." He decided to take the bait. The contender side-stepped and threw a flurry of quick punches to stave off the counter-attack. He dodged with relative ease and suddenly felt a burning sensation on his face. He stopped his offense to check his visage. Above his eyebrow he felt for and found the wound. An inch long gash had been opened and a trickle of blood began to make its way down the corner of his face. He looked at the contender for a clue, the contender grinned and brandished the shiv. He smiled, delighted at the turn of events. The time for play was over, he moved in at a lightning pace, the contender was hard-pressed to keep up with the blur. He found the opening he was looking for in the flurry of jabs thrown in his direction, meant to keep him at bay, dodging one jab after the other, he side-stepped and dashed forward landing a clean hit on the mans face. Dazed momentarily the contender attempted to regain his composure but it was already to late. The window he needed had opened and he deftly transitioned from a standing stance into a crouch and made the 180 degree pass needed to immobilize the contender with the kukri hidden on his person. Materializing once again in front of the contender he decided that the time to finish him had arrived. He came in hard and fast, confident in his assault pattern, he landed a downward straight into the contenders solar plexus and watched the man double over backwards. The crowd went wild with. "That ought to give them their monies worth." He prowled over the sprawled body of the contender, awaiting for a sign of life. None manifested itself and the man was dragged from the arena. He looked over to the bookie and noticed a smile slowly creeping onto the mans face. He continued to stare and noticed other persons of interest begin to make their way over to him to confer and deliver bags of coins. "This business relationship will be profitable indeed," he said as he made his way out of the arena.