Rontu sat in the benches with the rest of the crowd, chin on his palm, watching as if it were just dogs fighting in the street and was briefly reminded of the brawls back in the dark elf city of Delu. How much different was it really? Just more organized mayhem and death for some petty reward or prize, be it glory, pride, riches, or just the joy of cutting into another being. He knew so many who just cherished the feeling of their steel cutting into flesh, like teeth through their meals, blood like the oily juices of rarely cooked meat. Which brought him to remember Ren down below, preparing for the blood shed. The short-tempered dragon spawn had nearly torn into the clerks for the registry when they had only slightly mentioned that he might be too young for this kind of thing.

Needless to say, the boy had convinced them otherwise.

Ren tends to be … very assuring.

“I can’t believe this.” He barely heard Khaz over the roar of the crowd, but he had made it loud enough that he had meant for Rontu to hear it.

The drow turned his limp expression to the Hylian sitting next to him, who was staring down at the arena with great disapproval in his black brows and dark blue eyes. Unlike Rontu, his companion was very pale skinned and had dark ink black hair that stuck up at messy and odd angles.

He tended to find Khaz so very ironic when he criticized this … Of course, Takai only liked blood shed when he was tearing apart the sinful. Rontu supposed he would find such needless slaughter annoying.

“You’re so sheltered in Hyrule. Things like this happen all the time in the world. Face it; people like to watch each other die. It’s amusing to them,” he drawled, turning his apathetic gold eyes back to the arena.

Rontu could feel the heated glare that he didn’t see Khaz give him. And then his voice red and self-righteous babbled its way into his ear.

“Not me! And the people of Hyrule certainly don’t either! And what about Ren … what if he really gets hurt? There aren’t even healers around …”

The drow smirked, finally bringing life to his black tinted face.

“I think you should be more concerned with those he is fighting …”


Ren paced down below impatiently. They told him to wait down here and get ready. What a laugh. Like he needed to get ready. He had everything he needed on him already. The Retuson had only discarded his coat so that it wouldn’t get in the way. He fingered Akane’s hilt at his side, itching for the fight. Isamu bumped gently against his leg and his leather pad. Ren hated waiting like this. It made him so restless. He just wanted to get moving already.

Finally it came. He heard the announcer.

"Alright, Pit Dogs!" cried the Warmaster. "We got another fight for you. The game's got four contestants, see, and it's gonna be a real brawl. Blackharrow! Fresh of the ships and into the sands!”

Ren smirked, ready and eager. His grandfather would have told him to ask Faia, the Great Warrior, for guidance and glory in battle. But he didn’t need any guidance. His own person was all that it would take. He would win his glory with his own power.

“Nevisu! The young albino!”

The young what?

Ren would have to remember to pound the Warmaster’s face in later for that one. He stepped up the stairs and into the area, the huge gate awaiting him. The Black Arrow guy, or whatever his name was, was on the opposite side of him.

OoC: heya, thought I'd give it a whirl. You can find Ren in my sig under Figments of My Imagination.

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My Garden
[The Figments of My Imagination]
We are all so much together, but we are all dying of loneliness.
[Between the Worlds | Empire of Darkness | A Light in the Dark | Under the Red Sea]