Contrary to how Tony had felt after waking up in The Pits, now he felt rejuvenated... bolstered beyond measure. The pending increase to his stats provided by his new armor, regaining his artifacts, and now his Oath bonuses being returned... Tony felt good. The Hamaskyr Addiction debuff still plagued his senses but the constant upswings in his situation seemed to be working in his favor... at least for now.

Tony scooped his newly acquired goods into his inventory and made his way back to the barracks. He didn't want to give anything away to Rania, or anyone else, before the fight. When he returned, Tony noticed that the guard presence in the Barracks had increased significantly. There was the standard large bruiser guard right by the gates, two by the bazaar entrance and three more patrolling through the infirmary, resting area, and the "red room" where the fighters lingered before and after bouts. Jak's hand closed where Tony's arm had just been, the Ascendant flinching away by reflex.

"What" Tony hissed "makes you think that grabbing at me would be a good idea?"

"The look on your face said you were going to do something stupid, I wanted to make sure that didn't happen," the Ashtar answered, "where have you been?"

"I went shopping, not that it's any of your business," Tony snapped.

Jak paused and studied him for a moment before quirking a craggy brow, "So you didn't try to access that 'room' again?"

Tony shook his head

"You sure?" Jak pressed.

"I was in the market. Get off my ass."

Jak took a step back with his hands held up in surrender, "Alright, alright... a bunch of combatants went missing one at a time and showed back up... altered, which is why we have so much more company now."

Tony looked around the room again. Locusnettle was a sapling in a jar no longer, but a large oak treant with golden leaves and knots of amber resin throughout his bark... every other combatant that Tony had faced and not slain with his dreadblade or his Channel Dreadblade talent was back and enhanced similarly to how Rania had been after her visit with Pahadron.

"Was the wannabe Angel down here? After he talked with Rania, I mean..." Tony asked.

"I think so, Vixie said -"

"Did she go with him?" Tony interrupted, his breath catching in his chest.

"No, she's been busy doing work for Serketzi. Her collar won't let her stop," Jak answered.

Tony's relief was half-baked. He was glad that the enemy hadn't gotten to Vixie, but being forced to work to such an extent in the condition she'd been in... Vixie had to be exhausted... had to be suffering multiple debuffs...

"Well, we know what happened then, Pahadron took them into the room, did whatever he did to Rania to them and, because they're so changed, re-entered them into the meat grinder for me to deal with..." Tony theorized.

"Well, that would be cheating,,, plus, you're too high in the standings to just have to fight all the new combatants... all over? again?" Jak said, uncertainty making itself known in his words, "you just have Rania and the Champ left and -"

Before Jak could finish his explanation, one of the patrolling guards pushed his way between the two of them and clicked something at Jak, instructing him to go elsewhere. Jak peeked over his shoulder and mouthed "we'll talk more later" at Tony before turning away his back to a lashing from the guard and moving as instructed.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Tony was about to pounce on the guard's back but he saw Jak's hands, palm to the floor, and knew that was a sign for him not to act. As Tony watched Jak's retreating form, he noted that the damage dealt to him was only cosmetic. The craggy muscles in his skin turned the glass and leather of the last without a scratch.

Another guard checked Tony across the back with the haft of its crook-spear and grunted at him.

"Leave the Red Room if you don't have a fight today," the guard ordered.

Tony obliged of his own volition with a smirk. If Serketzi had intended to add more users as collar controllers, she'd either forgotten or something was keeping it from working. Tony walked into the infirmary, past the single guard posted at its entrance and spotted Vixie, hard at work over a large mortar and pestle. There were deep bags under her eyes, her hands were reddened and raw, her hair was slick with sweat and oil, and what he could see of her legs shook under the long skirt she wore despite the fact that she was seated on a high stool. Hamaskyr ingredients that Tony had come to recognize littered her work space in various states of preparation, and when Tony inspected the Void Elf woman, the list of debuffs she suffered was extensive. She was operating on instinct, training, and whatever orders were coming through her collar.

Tony went into his inventory and pulled out the "miracle cure" that he'd purchased. He'd intended to use it himself, to rid himself of the Hamaskyr addiction that he faced, but the timer on it was down to 24 hours, and if he could go without taking any potions for another full day, it wouldn't be a problem. If he did... well... he'd gotten this far. Getting out and getting back to the Ascendant Fleet would allow him to recover.

"Heya Vixie," Tony said as he approached.

She didn't answer.

"Helloooooo... Arach to Alchemist..." Tony prodded.

Still nothing.

Tony nudged the woman. Her body swayed with the contact but remained seated and upright, still smashing ingredients.

"The hell with this," Tony muttered as he uncorked the potion, tilted Vixie's head back and poured it into her mouth, over her chapped lips. Her hands never stopped working even as her throat worked to drink the liquid down. Once the potion was empty Vixie gasped as though she'd been trapped underwater for too long and snapped her gaze to Tony.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded in a harsh whisper.

"Some miracle potion that's supposed to 'cure all that ails you,' I bought it in the bazaar," Tony explained in a low tone.

Vixie blinked rapidly at him, "And you used it on me?"

Tony shrugged, "You looked like an animated corpse at work. I'd know, I've seen some of those pretty recently."

Vixie's face was a mask of confused, grateful, and indignant emotion, "If I could do anything with my hands other than make potions right now, I'd slap you."

"And here I thought a thank you would be a stretch, slaps though, high praise I'm sure," Tony snipped, "you're welcome, by the way."

Vixie's face, having regained its deep purple hue flashed indigo in her cheeks.

"Thank you, Tony."

He waved her off and headed toward the cot he'd woken up on most often and rolled onto it with a yawn.

"Say, Vixie?" he muttered.

"What Tony?" she answered.

"After I beat the champ and bust out of here, you wanna come with me?"

"Ha ha, very funny Ascendant," she answered.

"I'm not kidding," Tony said, "I'm going to beat Rania tomorrow, I'm going to challenge the Champion, I'm going to win, get rid of this collar, and get out of here. Whether it's through getting clever or blasting my way out, I'm leaving. You were solid in the fight up top before all of... this... with your talents and profession, I'm sure that there'd be a place for you on the flagship, plenty of opportunity to do what you do because you want to, y'know?"

When the soft scraping of the mortar and pestle stopped, Tony sat up and looked over at Vixie; she wiped her face and looked back at him.

"You know... for a second... I believed you Tony," she whispered, "I don't think either of us are leaving this place... but if somehow you do... if you can't get me out..."

The pauses in her speech turned into gulps for air as she spoke and Tony jumped up from his cot.

"If you can get out and get me out, please... please take me with you. If you can't get me out too... Tony I want you to promise me..."

Tony made it over to Vixie and put his hands on her shoulders, "Promise you what, Vixie?"

"If you can't get me out too, I want you to promise to kill me."