Emmaline stays, Robin prepares for her next match

"For a hero of your renown, you may find thessse offeringsss unsssatissfactory," Fan'Zwit'Zal said as he casually watched the young Bravo peruse the various blades and armors on display. She lifted a short, obsidian blade up in her hand, testing the heft of it.

"It would be nice if you could just give me my sword back" Robin said. She set down the blade and picked up a a spear instead.

"Perhapsss that can be arranged. If you win your fight, of courssse." Fan'Zwit'Zal said with a bemused look in his eye.

"Are there any, like, rules or limits or anything about what I can take in?" Robin asked.

Fan'Zwit'Zal shook his head. Robin nodded in understanding, then set about arming herself. She selected the lightest armor she could find--a thin suit made of some sort of beast skin, scaled and tanned into flexible and seemingly sturdy woven plates. She slung a short spear over her back, and took the obsidian blade in one hand, then turned to Fan'Zwit'Zal to nod her readiness.

"Very well," the announcer said. He nodded to the guards, then departed from the room, calling back a casual "I wisssh you luck," with a waved hand as he passed out into the hall.

"I guess it's go time, then," Robin smiled at the closest guard, who met her with a blank stare. "Right. You probably don't speak much common or anything."