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Description: A square stone platform raised three feet off the ground. A stadium of a crowd surrounds the entire field (so ignore the backdrop in the above picture).

Field Measurements:

Stone Platform - 40 x 40 yards
Surrounding Grass - 15 yards between the platform and the audience

Ten Count Boundary: As soon as both feet touch the grass, the ring out count begins. Going higher than forty yards into the air starts a ten count.

The time had come to exit the great open wilds and enter the public scene. The time had come to build her own saga. She could hear the bards even now... 'A statue stepped onto the field to the hushed suspense of the crowd. A seven foot frame so fearsome as to dwarf even the great maw of the stands and send her opponent fading nondescript into the shadows. Raven flowed through her long hair and shown in sharp silver eyes. Bear hulked in her powerful build and sturdy footing even under the excessive weight of her triple-bound shields; a walking fortress with both javelins poking out from beneath and sturdy hand axe strapped to her side. And wolf stalked in her fierce stance as wild as the fur-lined leather of her modest armor. They knew her name only from the brochure, but right away they knew they were witnessing the beginning of greatness, and they cheered.'

The Shield Maiden Njora was most certainly not expecting an attack outside of the ring. Heavy steps pounded their way across the field and to the designated match area, but unbeknownst to her it was pretty safe to assume she wouldn't make it very far.

Ah what a glorious day for honorable combat! The sun was shining a welcoming glow. The arena set white and pure. The crowd cheering... a bit suspiciously, but fervently nonetheless. The sharp pain in her side- wait, what?

If twenty years on the frozen hunting grounds had taught her anything, it was at the very least a lesson in when she was being stabbed. Adrenaline pumped through her veins at the flame that bloomed from her nerves and pure knee-jerk instinct drove her away from the source, twisting violently to the left so that the offending hand could be smacked sharply by the shields on her back, dislodging the weapon and sending its bloody edge spiraling across the ground if she was lucky. If she wasn't she was still dropping to her right knee and lashing out with a vicious left backhand aimed right at the ninja's face, or whatever happened to be in the way at the time (since quite a few reasons surrounded a lack of desire to aim).

The mighty Norn grit through the pain with a low growl, her saving grace the mere fact that there was a lot of muscle to stab through considering her arm was flat against her side. The end of her deltoids sported a huge gash with free-flowing blood and more sprung from a small puncture at the target area, but her quick reaction spared her a fatal wound. Her debilitated right hand even still managed to unlatch the first shield, a heavy 3-foot bronze hoplon that pivoted across the ground and into her awaiting grasp.

"You skirt the edge with clever poise, but your strike lacks conviction. When the bards sing your song, do they name you Hunter or Coward? I think you will regret both this day, for when they sing of Njora Brynjolf they will never name her Prey!"

She spoke the last of it as she rose, twisting her stance to fully face her assailant and thrusting her right leg forward as her shield-bearing right arm rose to swing at his neck with the edge of the 30-pound implement. It wasn't exactly sharp by most definitions, but with the amount of force she could put behind it, the edge could indeed cut if not completely crush. All the while her face held a fierce grimace, the pain of a further opening gash standing as a thrilling reminder that she was still very much alive.

What a silly notion. Everybody knows talking is a free action.

The large woman watched the little dark man carefully, noting his quick reflexes as he ducked her retaliation, and respectable no-nonsense attitude as he stepped back in to take advantage of her bold attempt at banter. Except, confusingly enough, his first target was her shield. When his weight pushed her shield back to the ground and his legs lifted a thousand options came swimming through her mind. Sadly there was one exceedingly pressing issue that superseded all the others... a simple yet extremely important detail: they were still outside the ring. Well, simple details required simple responses.

She answered his approach with a ball, pulling her left hand back and using her hard-leather-bound forearm to intercept and push away one of the oncoming legs. As for the other... well, it could really do whatever it wanted, for once she pulled her shield in close to her side and hefted mightily, pushing it up mostly with her shoulder as she stood to full height, he would have little choice but to be lifted with it. From there it was one of two options for the half-giant. Either the dark man release her shield and fall to the ground on his own efforts, or if he decides to hold on simply let go of her shield and dump him unceremoniously thereto. As much as she liked the idea of keeping it, a simple implement wasn't nearly as important as an entire match.

...which brought her to step 2: Make a mad dash across the greens and leap onto the stage before her 10-count was up. Something she was already cutting dangerously close.

A loud whistle blew across the air. A large muscular man ran from the entrance, heading quickly across the grass before sliding to a stop inbetween both combatants. As he stood there, he posed before them with his hips swayed to the left and his arms held vertically in the air as a flamboyant posture was set before he gave his ruling.

"Both fighters must enter the ring before the match officially begins. Therefore, all action before now is considered void in terms of judging."

In addition, all injuries and stamina lost will be recovered, thus resetting the fight.

Escaping with a boot to the head was an acceptable sacrifice. Especially when only moments later they were split by an official and she was given another spot of good news. Even better when the announcement was followed by an intense calm as the wound in her side closed and the ache in her head faded away. She was finally able to step up to the arena proper with her previous bravado. The crowd roared, their bloodlust appeased and the match hadn't even started yet. Truly this would be one for the Great Song.

"It appears you are out of your element, Night Hunter. But no Legend is built without a challenge. Show me that dark ferocity and we may yet weave a tale worthy of the hearth!"

Not one to fall for the same trick twice, she took her own speech as an opportunity to unlatch a second shield, this one an even larger 5' x 2.5' steel tower shield that she proceeded to slip beneath the strap and grip firmly in her left hand. The time had come to start things out proper, and there was no point in squandering opportunities. Rolling her right shoulder to test the almighty healing powers of the local authorities as she cautiously approached her opponent, she would finally drop the 'simple' act and show the first sign that there was perhaps more to her use of shields than met the eye. Just outside of striking distance (which was a good 6 feet for her considerable reach), she spun the round bronze implement up between them. Within a moment's notice she would catch the edge with the same hand, step forward with her right leg, and use the momentum of the spin to push the heavy shield towards her target; wielding it diagonally like some oversized chakram or disk in order to send a powerful, long-reaching jab at the man's upper chest and neck.

((Edited for grammar and clarity.))

Njora grinned in surprise, silver eyes flashing at the unexpected challenge. Straight-up tanking a 30-pound shield under the force of a half-giant's swing was no small feat, and this peculiar little man could manage it with a single arm. A normal fighter might balk at that level of strength, but the Shield Maiden only saw it as a challenge to strike even harder. What kind of Norn would she be if she couldn't overpower a mere chest-high humankin? The kind that was laughed out of the holmstead, that's what!

In one smooth motion she would pull back and spin the shield in the air once more, catching its grip deftly on the half-revolution and holding it "normally" once more. In the same motion her left leg slipped behind her right, pulling her fully within striking distance and forcing her body to spin left to keep balance. She turned her back to him for only a second (though even then her extended shields as well as the third heavy tower shield still strapped to her back would provide considerable protection) before her spin came 360 and she put the full force of her 250 + 25 pounds into another left-handed backhand. Except this time there was a heavy steel shield covering her hand to tune up both the surface area and the blunt-force trauma.

((Yessir. Sorry for the delays. I should be able to post a bit faster during the evenings for the rest of the week.))

She could feel her shield strike air, but all she gave was a single blink as time corrected itself and she completed her spin to find her silent opponent knocked back from her opening attack. From their little dance on the edge he had even made it off the platform entirely. Assessing eyes peered intently down at him as he pulled out and 'readied' a strange canister-like device. Fire or otherwise dangerous chemicals were the most common weapons that needed to be contained in such a manner, so it was worth being cautious. Still, caution didn't mean inaction. There was glory to be claimed in an unrelenting assault.

As the Night Hunter hopped back onto the platform the Shield Maiden charged. A bull-rush of sorts, not fast enough to send herself tripping over the edge if she missed, but still with enough momentum to transfer into a hearty sidelong shield-bash. At the end of her charge she planted her right foot forward and, with hips and shoulder, heaved another heavy backhand to send the bronze shield slamming into his general mass. She wasn't entirely interested in victory by traditional ring-out, but perhaps knocking him in and out of the ring ping-pong-style would inspire or frighten him into getting a little more aggressive.