You're the servant of Marl Barrock, or pet would be a better way to put it. She's beaten you in combat and now she owns you as her own, thus the rules of the colosseum. She opens the door to her room with a bright smile, nothing good could come from this...

"Ah there you are pet, I'm feeling rather energetic. Should I use you like a punching bag? Or maybe treat you like a sobbing creature?"

Her sharp eyes gaze upon you as she stretched to draw attention to her shredded figure.