"My family! I must say I am proud of you today! Your efforts in bringing in new blood for the pit have allowed our community to thrive! Tonight, however you really outdid yourselves! Because of the impressive catch, we have something special for you!" As the crowd came to life, the last of them having bargained for their seats at the arena, Roach motioned to one of his children at the side of the arena...

"First, I want to take some time to announce our lovely opening act! You've seen her before, you've requested to see her again, I'd say give her a hand, but she's got plenty, so applaud instead! MAHADEVI~!!!" He gave the seven armed woman time to enter the arena, and soaked in the cheers of the crowd. "Now, you won't be seeing our usual one versus one match-up today, no, since you worked so hard for me, I will provide! Men, bring out the catch!" Roars an jeers were heard as a group of minions and pit-workers dragged in four men, chained together, in old military uniforms. They all seemed to be somewhat beaten up, and seemed to have his arm missing from an old wound. "I give you, the infamous 4th street raiders! These ex military men thought they could take down one of my radio towers in the city, and sell it for scrap! Isn't it a lovely coincidence that between them, they have seven arms?! I got to thinking, and come to the lovely conclusion that I had the perfect match for them! What do you think, my family?! Are you ready for this?!"

He raised his hands to the air a the men were uncuffed, and went about grabbing weapons... Sure, Devi was outnumbered, but it helped a little that he'd given her her pick of weapons before the fight, and left out only dull, blunted weapons for the gang. It wasn't that he didn't trust in her abilities... he just wanted to be sure they died today; after all, people had to learn what happened to those who crossed him somehow, right?

It was, above everything else, a joke.

>>"First, I want to take some time to announce our lovely opening act! You've seen her before, you've requested to see her again, I'd say give her a hand, but she's got plenty, so applaud instead! MAHADEVI~!!!"

The Goddess walked into the arena, chin raised high, taking in the crude cheers and yells of the crowd in the same fashion she used to take in their polite praises, a million years ago. She used to be Sarasvatí, once upon a time, she used to be Laksmí the Lover. But not here, not anymore.
Here, she was Kali and she was Durga, dark from sun and dirt but proud as ever, holding sharp objects in all the seven hands left to her since she found the dark haven of the Pit. Roach used to tell her she should grow it back. She used to laugh.

It was a joke, after all.

>>"I give you, the infamous 4th street raiders! These ex military men thought they could take down one of my radio towers in the city, and sell it for scrap! Isn't it a lovely coincidence that between them, they have seven arms?! I got to thinking, and come to the lovely conclusion that I had the perfect match for them! What do you think, my family?! Are you ready for this?!"

She was ready. The men were obviously not. Kali turned in a wide arc, brandishing her weapons for the pleasure of the audience. She was, first and foremost, a performer. She thrived on the cheers almost as much as she lived on the food it provided.
Four men with seven arms fighting one Goddess with seven arms.
It was still a joke.

But the joke was not on her. Not today.

The crowd cheered as the seven armed deity showed off for them. Roach was sure they were in for quite the pleasantly bloody show. Still, she was outnumbered... He wondered how the experienced pit fighter would fare against former military might... It was amusing to him, watching the efficient, clean force of the old world clash with the primal, beastly creations of the new. Mahadevi was one of those creations; one this world had turned into a dealer of death.

His money was on her.

"BEGIN!"

Most of the men were equipped, some with hammers and short blades, though one was climbing the dome for a pole-arm located a few meters up. Two of the men, both with hammers and knives, looked to each other, and then moved forward as the rest spread out to try and surround the woman... It seemed like they were, at the very least, organized.

She had six weapons and seven arms.
She had a reason for that. Several reasons, actually. One being that she did not want to drop a weapon for the opponent's (who are we kidding, they were the enemy) advantage if she needed to use a hand. Another was that she needed a free hand to juggle.
She used to have eight. Now the lowest arm on her left was just a stump. If saved her life, however. Asymetry was still better than death.

Two of the men stalked towards her. She was aware that the other two would try to go around. Let them try. Makes for a better show.

Weapons slid from hand to hand and her seven arms twirled around with a speed that made them look like a blur. A halo. A halo made of the sharp glint of steel and the dull gloom of jewelry.

Knives? She had a knife. Hammers? She had a hammer. She also had a Japanese sword, an axe, brass knuckes with nails, and a spiked dog chain.

She was Kali. She was here to dance.

She was here to dance, and dance she did; the way her arms flowed about, weapons traveling about them, entranced the now perfectly silent crowd. The pit master himself had to admit that there really wasn't anything like it... In the old world it might have even been a stage performance. He stared intently at the show as his mandibles slowly clacked bemusedly. He had every bit of confidence in his selected pit fighter; she'd shown to be more than effective, and while this did turn out to be a bit of a gag, it was a very real battle; these men would fight to the death, and she would do what she did best. She was a goddess of death, was she not?

The show from their opponent caused the first two men to halt for a second in their advance. One looked to the other nervously, and the other looked back, though his expression was more of anger; who cared how many arms she had! They outnumbered her! He would show them; He charged forward with a quick thrust with his blade, keeping his hammer up to parry any attacks. This charge made the other one a little more brave; he stepped in just after with a hammer blow toward one of her wrists.

The climber was about half way to his objective, and the last one was sneaking about warily, his lack of an arm had, perhaps, taught him a lesson when it came to showing caution. His hand absently fumbled with the latch on a loaded crossbow attached to the wall behind him; it was secured very well, though, and thus would take some time to detach with one hand working at it.

The twirling stopped as all hands snapped to attention; the enemy has made his move. Knife way parried with the brass knuckles, hammer was parried with hammer; Kali danced out of the way, taking a half turn, simply sidestepping the other hammer attack.
While in the turn, the dog chain lashed out and wrapped itself around the first man's neck, it was easy really, he was wide open with his two weapons blocked. One pull and he followed after her stumbling, Kali, Goddess of Destruction, dances on the bodies of the fallen. Quick glances assured her that the other two were still searching for weapons on the wall. They could wait for their turn on her dance card.

The first man let out a roar of frustration as his two attacks were blocked, which was cut off as a chain wrapped around his neck. A hammer was dropped as his hand went to his neck.

The other man stumbled as his attack hit nothing but air. He growled as he regained his balance, and turned to face her once more.

The other man choked as he was yanked about, but managed to untangle himself from the chain after a moment of struggling. He grasped at his neck as he stumbled back. "B#%#@," He muttered under his breath, and the other man came to his aid, handing him his hammer.

He brandished both of the weapons, and his battle buddy did the same... This time they closed in more carefully, approaching from two slightly different angles... One lunged in for a low strike toward the knee cap with a hammer, while the other slashed at the hand that was holding the dog chain.

The man climbing for the pole arm was nearing his objecting, a smile formed on his face as he reached out, and brushed it with his finger tips, nearly slipping from his perch. He cursed loudly, and got to climbing just a little higher.

The one armed man was having a hard time... The loaded crossbow would be a perfect snag if he could just get the damned thing off free of it's bindings. He was careful not to accidentally fire it, which made the process even slower.

The man untangled himself and scrambled back to his feet. Mahadevi held her grip on the dog chain and stepped back, turning around slowly to keep both attackers in sight. She smiled, but not the graceful, compassionate smile of a goddess; she grinned with the enjoyment of destruction, and stuck her tongue out at the enemy.

When the first blow came, aimed at her knee this time, her foot slid in the sand as she sidestepped it. First rule of traditional dance: your arms move, yout feet stay planted on the ground. You need a solid foundation for eternal balance.

The man had to duck to aim at her knee, which meant his head was bowed down now, in a fitting display of submission. One arm was raised and a knife came down, hitting him behind the ear with the blunt end of the handle.

The other man slashed at the hand that held the chains; the blade came down on the hand, and even though most of it was blocked by the end of the chain wrapped around the knuckles, it still drew blood. The goddess wailed, more out of frenzy than pain, and the samurai sword came down, tearing through jacket and muscle, and pinned the man's arm to the ground.

Kali stepped back, and admired the destruction in a moment of calm.

The first man's eyes widened as his blow was neatly avoided, leaving him wide open. He stumbled forward as a strike found its way to the back of his head, and nearly fell to his knees before scrambling to turn around and face her again, a thin line of blood running down his neck from a cut welt on his skull.

The other seemed to be faring much better at first. A grin came to his face as he saw her blood. They could do it! They could win this! At that thought, things took a turn for the worse for him. The sound of sword slicing flesh and a scream of agony. "AAAAAUUGH."

"GENE!" The man with the knot on his head screamed. Pinned to the ground, the wounded warrior's eyes had a look of frenzy as he tried to remove his arm from the sword in a panic, tearing the wound open even more.

The climber looked down and growled, reaching once more for the weapon he sought. He found a solid grip, and tugged. It didn't budge. He tugged again... Nothing... Roach cackled loudly as he saw the look on the man's face; the pole arm was super glued to the bar of the dome. Not be to discouraged, he went about yanking the weapon, which was slowly beginning to break off.

One arm was making progress as well, though it was slow going. He got one of the knots on the binding out, but another one was still holding it to the wall.

The man's screams were very satisfying. Kali admired her work for a moment before she stepped back to him, yanking the sword out of his arm and shipping the blood off in a neat arc. He was not dangerous anymore. Pain and blood loss were going to do the rest.

Two men were still trying to get weapons for themselves. Kali had time. She turned to the other fighter, yelling his comrade's name, and her arms snapped to attention.

"Bow before the Goddess" she commanded him in a deep voice that resonated among the walls of the arena "Sumbit to Kali and she will grant you your life."

It was all part of the show, of course.
Goddesses did not have the right to grant lives in this world.
Roaches did.