Warrior Bride

A C H A L L E N G E R

Media: Confident~by Demi Lovato (video contains one strong 'cuss word')
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A   C H A L L E N G E R

Brietta.

It was a pretty name. It was my best friend, but at other times it was my worst enemy.

People assumed that with a pretty name came a pretty face that belonged to a pretty well-behaved and appropriate woman. And to that idea I scoffed in their faces.

I was just a woman with a pretty name, pretty features and a lifestyle that wasted them both.

My lifestyle was that of a wandering rogue. My sword was for hire, but rarely was it ever used. I was more likely to pick up odd farm jobs or a week's worth of errands for an elderly widow. But on the eighth day, I always move on and look for sword work.

And today, I might have found it.

After hearing rumors of an underground tournament, I knew it was worth trying to find, and find it I did.

"The next challenger against Martin Daunté is..." the announcer paused, rechecking his list, "Brietta Wolfslayer?"

I smirked and stood to my feet, my wolf skin cloak making a testament to his words.

"Aye," I called out to the group of men and the odd few women, "I am the challenger."

A belly-quaking laugh came from every gut in the God-forsaken back street. My opponent, an attractive young man with a spiked club raucously laughed along.

"Brietta!?" he roared, "Did your mom get your name from a tea party or a book club?"

"You can call me Wolfslayer if it suits you better." I say with an undaunted smirk.

Here is where my name becomes my best friend. It wields the element of surprise, and gives me an advantage when others underestimate me for it.

I dropped my cloak onto the bench behind me, revealing a dazzlingly elite fighting outfit. The laughter dies as they take in my carefully placed knifes and daggers. The light but durable shield strung across my back behind a short-range cross-bow. My leather arm guards perfectly molded with metal to provide flexibility and protection were a perfect example of the rest of my outfit.

I wore no sleeves, but without my cloak I still did not shiver in the chilly atmosphere.

"Well, Brietta Wolfslayer." Martin said to amuse me, "Let's fight."

I only looked at Martin with deadly determination.

"No killing." the referee stated the only rule, "Just display visible power over the other person and/or place them in a fatal scenario."

Martin waved him off, annoyed, "Yeah, yeah, let's just get this started." he paused and looked at me, "I don't normally fight girls, but you're asking for it, so this will be over shortly."

"Aye." I replied, stepping forward, treading the line between looking naive and looking confident, "Let's do this."

The line I had to tread was one I set in my brain a long time ago, but I had learned how to follow it flawlessly. It always kept my opponents underestimating me until the last second.

And this fool was falling for it perfectly.

Hoots and hollers rang around as I stepped into the circle of men and eyed Martin warily.

"Show your first choice of weapon!" the referee called.

I pulled a blade from either hip and clicked their handles together so I had a short metal staff tipped with blades. It was thin, long, agile and deadly sharp.