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Zarik looks up to the platform and thinks to himself, 'You clever son of a bitch!' knowing full well what the plan is.

"What is his deal?" Zerilisk hisses, "He dares slander the name of the Great Zerilisk the Black!" and gets up as if to try to attack the lookout.

"Ah, ah, AH!" Zarik tuts, "You sure you wanna do that?"

"What do you mean?" Zerilisk seethes, attempting a tail slap of his own.

"What do you mean, 'what do you mean?' you slimy sack of shit!" Zarik retorts with a sidestep, "You know exactly what I mean you mealymouthed motherfucker! You've cheated twice in this farce of a battle from the moment you arrived and crashed our reunion! Want me to name them, or is your memory not as bad as your smell?"

"Humor me!" Zerilisk rumbles, eyes squinted.

"First! You told me I had to fight in this form! I fucking hate this form, but I agreed because it was the HONORABLE THING TO DO!" Zarik begins and flashes one taloned digit inches from his foe's face.

Zerilisk snaps his jaw with blazing speed at the finger facsimile.

The harpy gasps in shock when she hears Zarik decry his dragon form, she bemoans, "He hates his dragon self? But he's so sexy being all silver and shiny!" visibly crestfallen.

Zarik pulls his hand back and winds up for a strong-arm haymaker straight to Zerilisk's eye, which elicits a pained hiss, then he continues is tirade, "SECONDLY! You tried to make the arena too dark to give yourself an edge in your contingency on fighting here!"

"You're picking nits, half breed!" Zerilisk roars, "Besides, you immediately redressed the issue! Foul overruled!"

"Who died and made you referee? Last I checked, you're the one who made these rules! You don't get to selectively enforce! Foul sustained!" Zarik belts out, "I shouldn't have fucking needed to do that! You had every intention to use the low light to hide like the cowardly turd nugget you are!"

Aren groans and rolls his eyes, "Are they fighting to the death or trading dis tracks?"

The harpy laughs and answers, "Yes."

"Yes what?" Aren exclaims.

"Both options." Zissou interjects.

"This is ridiculous..." Aren grumbles. "Zarik has this one in the bag, full stop."

Zerilisk growls and says, "Then what's the point of this delay? I only count two!"

"You're clearly contemplating attacking the neutral ground with my friends in it!" Zarik yells and heaves a chunk of the destroyed boulder.

"You mean your friends, my trophy, and my slave!" Zerilisk roars, narrowly avoiding the debris.

Harpy visibly experiences an emotional rollercoaster from Zarik calling her a friend to the master she had been forced into thinking loved her laying bare his contempt for her. She begins wailing in sadness.

"You know what? Make that three, cocksucker! I was gonna cite you attacking Bel while simultaneously telling him this isn't his place to get involved!" Zarik grins triumphantly, "Now the truth that you only kept the girl around be be a fuckable blood bag has shattered her illusions of you caring about her, and her rupturing of our ears in turn... Make that four!"

As if on command, the light from earlier returns and drops a polearm on a direct bearing into Zerilisk's tail, rendering it useless. The resulting flash coincides with Zarik reverting to his human form, in ornate armor fashioned to look much like his dragon form. Matching colors, but sans wings. He stands with his back turned toward his foe, sneering over his shoulder. His right hand fanned out in front of his face, palm facing outward. His left arm pulled around his from with his hand folded around to the outside of the other arm, fingertips resting on his vambrace near the shoulder. Standing on his tip toes, his knees bent, right leg rotated to match the arm. He appears poised to jump at any moment.

Calling up, he yells, "Let 'er rip, Bel! He doesn't want to play fair, so why should we?"

Hopping up onto Zerilisk's haunch, he retrieves his spear with a pained hiss coming from his victim. Before he can be snipped at, he launches skyward with blinding speed.

Harpy jumps up suddenly and throws up her arms as if she wasn't just crying uncontrollably, tossing the blanket off, and cheers happily for Zarik while Zissou struggles to get her to stop and wrap her back up. The sweat-dampened layer of filth on her body making her hard to hold still.

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