Back in The Pit

To compare the two arenas wasn’t hard. The one he had been going to was a hovel, plain and simple.
The place he found himself had a more subtle grandeur to it, able to mostly keep the rats from the lower levels and have decent lighting. Whoever ran this place wasn’t flaunting their earnings publicly, but they could still display it where it counted.
Wandering the comparably spacious waiting room, cool and bare of any decor, he had not had any wine and was restless. All the pacing did was further irritate him though, a poor attempt to ride out the newest wave of thoughts.

Of course, it was the usual doubts.
A part of Tarmen called himself a reckless fool, running towards death just to satisfy an old craving. Another part wasn’t sure what he was wanting from this, when he could be finding more useful information, about Alexis, about the trials, about anything other than more money.

He ran a bruised, scarred hand over his emerging hair, trying to understand everything that had started by his arrival. He had faced a life of others doubting him, but he had never doubted himself.
Here he was about to enter a glorious fight to the death, a mass slaughter of those weaker than him so that he could once again show the world his power, yet his mind betrayed him by worrying about others that could fully care for themselves.
He was once ruthless. He once held respect and commanded his own crew. He was a leader, a model of Kru’ll society and its truth.
Lost in himself, he could feel something worming through his thoughts. A low rumble that he had thought banished from his spirit. He quickly exited his mind, not willing to entertain that path. Not when he had bigger things to worry about.

He hadn’t asked many questions about the deal, simply what rules were in place and how many he would face. The answer had been simple as well, to the death and many. The reward for such a sport was fair, the number of attendance Tarmen had seen when entering promising a better payout than he had been earning.
He had not, however, seen any of the other combatants. They truly wanted this to be a show. No pre-planning, no sense of security. All he was left with was wondering what would greet him at the end of the pit. He wasn’t sure the name of it here, but he figured they had a fun and catchy title for the blood smeared path he would soon be walking.
When the signal came to enter the arena, Tarmen lingered on a last minute thought that maybe he should back out. Unsheathing his machete, he used the sound to silence any further doubts before walking ever forward.