Fuu commits through the charge

It was a terrifying game of chicken as the centaur bore down on her. His twin shamshirs were only one small fraction of the raw intimidation Sharkan pressed upon her mind. Even if he were completely unarmed, the equine half of his body held four brutally dangerous weapons which had been more than enough to defend normal horses for centuries. And from the way he leered at the exposed bits of her body, Sharkan's fifth natural weapon was the one Fuu really wanted to avoid. Lines of men in the history books had caved when a wall of heavy cavalry came crashing down upon them and Fuu was only one woman.

Still, in the sparse seconds that it took for her opponent to close the gap, Fuu drew in a slow, deep breath, feeling her chest rise and fall beneath he armor. She adjusted herself, taking a long stance directly opposed to him, as though her body--a fraction of the size and weight of Sharkan, even despite her height--would be enough to match his strength. The spear lay longways with the length of her body, a practiced stance ready to lash out and stab.

There was a steely certainty in Sharkan's eyes, as though in his mind Fuu had already broken, had already tried to throw herself out of the way of the oncoming one man stampede. Fuu matched it with her own stare, stormy grey eyes utterly impassive and calm.

She did pivot in the final second, but not in the way he had been anticipating. Rather than making some desperate final leap out of his path, Fuu instead kicked the butt of her spear downward. It smacked into the dirt, bracing itself against the earth itself. As Sharkan's bulky equine half crashed directly into her Fuu used that same kick to lift herself off the ground, turning a trampling by a half ton of horsemeat into a still brutal half-ton tackle of his body into her own.

Fuu was sent flying clean across the arena where the slammed into the far wall then slumped to the ground.

With the breath completely knocked out of her, it was long seconds before Fuu managed to collect herself enough to drag her aching body up to its feet.

What she saw when she did so was a brutal scene.

The spear had been snapped clean in half, with one half still buried in the dirt where she had planted it. The other, pointier, half was instead buried in Sharkan himself. His equine legs kicked wildly and a look of pained panic creased his brow as he clutched as the few inches of wooden haft that protruded from the front shoulder of his lower half. Fuu couldn't properly estimate how much of the spear had managed to pierce him before the wood gave way and snapped, but from what she could tell it was a small miracle that the blow hadn't managed to pierce his heart or lungs and turned instantly fatal.

Lizardfolk came rushing from the sidelines, one waving some sort of worked obsidian artifact and chanting while the others surrounded Sharkan waving and yelling in some attempt to communicate or calm him down. Fuu let out a deep sigh and let her body relax, collapsing once more against the side of the arena.

"A shocking upset!" Fan'zwit'zal's voice rang out over the clamor. "Our long reigning champion, the warrior from the far south Sharkan has been struck down by the arena's newest fighter! What remarkable bravery! What incredible skill!"

A roaring cheer built somewhere in the audience, gradually swelling until Fuu was bathed in applause and whistles. Somewhere in the middle of it she could just make out the sound of Robin's high squeals of delight and Emmaline's whoops and hollers. She looked over to see the two girls holding hands and bouncing up and down in celebration (which did some ludicrously lewd things to Emmaline's busty body, breasts and thighs bouncing obscenely). Liv met her gaze and gave her a snort, appreciative nod.

Fuu didn't know the exact rules they would need to follow to earn their freedom but this, perhaps, was at least a start.