Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-24510587-20190130124642/@comment-25828117-20190201033413

Graicus could only hear himself breathing.

His heart was pounding, he was hurting all over; gashes, cuts, bruises, torn nails... Thousands of small sensations accompanied by a couple big ones. And he loved it.

He was angry and tired, but pumped at the same time. The rush he felt. It sickened him. But he couldn't help it.

He figured something might've been wrong in his head but nothing could change that. Not many could become gladiators.

He let out a victorious roar, one that would surely please the bloodthirsty crowds gathering the arena. Graicus of Anvil had slain the minotaur.

Silence returned to the cave.

"Well, Graicus, old man... How are you gonna get yourself out of this hole?" He asked himself while looking up to the hole from whence he had fallen.