And Now For Something Completely Different

Dmitri was confused.

That wasn’t a rare thing, really. As a Tension wrestler, he was often put in confusing scenarios, having to battle strange woman on multiple occasions, oftentimes with weird stipulations. For a man who’d made his living with calculators and computers, the AFW was a shock to the system. Logic didn’t apply to many of the things that happened in the ring. There was just the fight, and all the weirdness that came with it.

You’d think he would be used to it by now, and in a way, he was...to a point.  A crazy as the AFW could be, there was a matter of scale, and his current predicament was higher, far higher, than anything the wrestling federation could offer.

He wasn’t in Japan anymore, he could say that for certain. He knew this, because he’d lived in Japan his entire life, traveled to all the islands, seen most of it, and he could say with reasonable certainty that there were no fight pits anywhere to be found. Nonetheless, that was exactly where he found himself, smack dab in the midst of something straight out of medieval fantasy.  A large, dank room, with him in the middle. Torches on the wall, illuminating the whole room with a blazing red light.

The best thing he could think to call it was a fight pit - small, no bigger than a ring, but with a stone floor instead of the soft canvas. Instead of the ropes, there were people all around the perimeter, chanting in some indecipherable language, wearing robes and sandals and other things people rarely put on when they weren’t doing historic reenactments. The only way out was through them, and none of them seemed inclined to let him pass.

Above them all, on a raised platform in the backroom, a man sat and overlooked the scene. It was hard to see him in the shadows, but even his outline painted a picture - he was big, he was fat, and he seemed quite interested in the proceedings before him. Dmitri couldn’t be sure, but somehow he suspected the man was smiling.

Dmitri himself was standing there, dressed in nothing but white pants. Cotton. Flowing. Very comfortable. Nice, but given the insanity he found himself in, it did little to comfort.

It all left him with one, pressing question: ”What the hell is this?”

He yelled. Something he rarely did, but if there was ever a time for it, it was now.

If any of the men or women in the room, any of them, understood a word Dmitri said, none of them showed it. His shout saw the arena quiet for a moment as heads turned to regard him. There was a brief pause. Some of the robed figures stirred, whispered to each other…

And then they went back to chattering in their language as though he hadn’t even spoken. A couple of men near him even tittered to each other, glancing over at him and nodding as though they’d just seen a monkey do a trick for a treat.

Very clearly, wherever this was and whoever the people surrounding him were, they had very little interest in or respect for Dmitri.

By contrast, the three sharp claps from the man sitting on the platform drew immediate and respectful silence, every person in the room turning to regard him. There was a brief pause, then the fat man nodded to a subordinate dressed in rather shabbier robes than most of the occupants of the room. The herald, for such he was, cleared his throat and began reciting off a list of some sort.

Of course, he was speaking the same tongue as everyone else in the room, so Dmitri was unlikely to understand a single word – but the rest of the watchers clearly did. And they liked what they were hearing, judging by the applause that followed seemingly every phrase.

Even the overweight boss was nodding approvingly, his fat lips curled in a wormy smile that bared golden teeth, as the announcement drew on.

There was some waving at Dmitri. Then with a flourish the herald indicated the doorway that led into the room. The crowd parted. And a robed and hooded figure was hustled through at spear tip to join Dmitri. The herald pointed at the newcomer, said some more things.

And then the guards grabbed the robe and ripped it off, to reveal…

A woman, her broad shoulders covered with her long fiery hair, and built like a panther. Easily six feet tall, a perfect mix of curvaceous beauty and deadly strength – fit and powerful and stunning. Every movement saw lithe muscle shift and draw taut under her tanned skin and she was showing a great deal of skin. A simple cloth wrap covered her full breasts and a loincloth provided some semblance of modesty for her lower half. But her arms, her thickly muscled thighs, her hard midriff were all bare to the eye.

Every inch of her named her not just a warrior but the pinnacle of a warrior’s skill and achievement despite her being no older than her mid 20s.

Standing there, stood tall despite the situation in which she found herself, the woman they called Red Sonja fixed her eyes on Dmitri and her lips curled in a sneer.

“You’re the best they could find?” Casually, she cracked her knuckles, stalking forward to loom over him with not a hint of concern, ”At least this won’t take long.”

Three thoughts went through Dmitri’s mind as he observed and absorbed these proceedings.

Firstly, how did he get here? If someone had knocked him out as part of an elaborate prank, they were going way, way over the line with, far beyond the call of duty. Drugs, maybe? He’d never done any drugs, any real drugs, so it was hard to say if he was under the effects of them or if this was an hallucination or what. It sure felt real enough.

Second, why him? What had he ever deserved to get in a place like this? More importantly, how could he get the hell out? He didn’t like the look of the sword or the people or the fat man with the bad teeth. He certainly didn’t like the look of the figure making her way to the ring, stepping through the shadows, taking off her robe, and…

Oh. Wow.

Being a normal, straight man, his mind first registered the fact that she was barely wearing anything at all, looking like something out a caveman’s dream. That, however, was quickly replaced by wonder when he noticed what those skimpy clothes were hiding. He’d seen bigger women, yes. Ones with bigger muscles and size. But never had he seen someone so tightly packed all over, so balanced, so built in every area. It was almost hard to believe he was seeing what he was seeing. No woman was meant to look like that. No human was meant to look like that.

But she was real, and she was speaking, and Dmitri definitely didn’t like what came out of her mouth.

”Whoa, wait, what?” He stood up and staggered back, not wanting to have her looming over him or looking at him or doing anything that involved her fists. ”Hey! Hey, stop! I don’t want to fight you!”

On her part, the She-Devil currently without a sword, but still the most dangerous person in the room, was clearly not impressed by Dmitri. True, he was in visibly better shape than most of the men in the room and true he looked to be at least partly descended from the warriors of Khitai. Sonja had fought enough such to know not to judge such men simply by their size.

But he looked weak regardless. He might not have been weak in body but the manner in which he immediately backed down was a red rag before a bull as far as the hot-headed Hyrkanian warrior-woman. If he’d at least stood up to her, he might have had a chance to gain a little respect. As it was, not a chance.

Sonja just sneered, pacing around the ring and Dmitri step by step as though he was the prey and she was a lioness setting him up for the kill. Her hands were braced on her hips as she eyed him contemptuously.

”Fine,” She told him, with a roll of her eyes, ”You don’t have to fight.”

From somewhere, the statuesque redhead drew a roll of cloth, which she began to wind tightly around her hands one after the other.

”I can just kill you where you stand, if you’d prefer that to fighting a woman.”

Sonja had by now come back around to tower over Dmitri again.

”I’m sorry. I mean losing to a woman. Your choice, coward.”

Dmitri was having a hard time deciding whether he was crazy or everyone around him was crazy. Not that it made much difference to the situation at hand, but still, it would’ve been nice to know.

Whatever the case, it was becoming more and more clear where this was going, or at least the overall gist of it. Dmitri could tell it from the roar of the crowd, the amused look on their host, and the serious, stalwart glare that Sonja was giving him. If almost anyone else in any situation had said what she said to him, he would’ve taken it as a really weird joke. She, however, was serious. Deadly serious.

Given the choice between dying on his back and dying on his feet, he chose the latter, though he got the distinct impression it wouldn’t make much difference in the long run.

He stood. The crowd cheered. Yay.

”Okay,” He moved into a fighting stance, though he decided to stay well away from her for the time being. ”Well, ah, what are the rules?” He asked, strongly suspecting he wouldn’t like her answer.