With his 'token' still held aloft hung from the tip of his blade, Martigan the Savage slung Vivi the Beguiler over his shoulder. Raising his blade in triumph he carried her of towards the arena tunnel as a trophy. The audience roared and howled, calling out lewd catcalls. One loud man bellowed out "pound her hard for me!" with a lust-filled, echoing laugh. The jeering, leeringly lusty taunts stung Vivianna's ears. She inwardly vowed that whatever it took, however long it took, and whatever she would have to do, she would gain the skill and potency to escape this condition where she was nothing but a bauble for the amusement of others. Her ambition, kindled when she ran away from home to prove herself (and escape an unwanted arranged marriage - actually, secretly, to the bemused silent approval of her parents), flared to life. Little did the crowd, Martigan, or even Vivianna know however that the triumphant gladiator would be denied the ultimate fruits of his triumph. No, the corrupt senator who held Vivianna's forged contract of slavery had other plans for her. Plans where she was much more valuable intact than ravished after a relatively meaningless arena contest. The display of her wares would build her value, though, and while corrupt and even personally lacivious, the senator could be patient when it was to to his advantage. Because if one thing trumped his own lechery, it was his avarice. Back in the gladiatorial pits Vivianna was dragged off the enraged Martigan and spared from being impaled on his engorged shaft by arena guards, Vivianna sighed in relief, but back in her cell began to brood and quietly plot both her advancement and ultimate escape with her compatriots in the adjacent cells.