Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5583506-20150923172856/@comment-5583506-20151013142820

As the time for the nightly Arena match came to pass, Raziel would find himself in the ring against three goblin chieftains freshly brought in from the Imperial City sewers. There weren't a lot of people that had come to see the fight, but that was the way it had been since the Great War. An age of reformation had happened in which people came to see themselves as "civilised" and as such did not indulge their lust for bloodspill to get the better of them. The only people visiting the Arena nowadays was just gamblers, no-lives who just wanted to get their daily fix of violence, criminals who sought to pick up some new moves, and alcoholics who had most likely stumbled into the wrong place but chose to remain and watch.

Anhjari couldn't help but look at Astien in a sense of wonder. He truly sounded like a man willing to stand up against injustice, and even though Viktor himself was supposed to represent such justice, she couldn't help but feel that an aggressive approach to a plant she had nearly given her life for was definitely not the right kind of approach.

The jar containing the Wamusu heart landed in the hands of Scav as the numb Vemirius was dragged away into the darkness by Francis Belmont.