Lovelace and I are walking on the benches of an old arena bigger than Rome's Colosseum.
"King Halinard told me that an old ancestor of yours built this for spectacle and that people used to fight to the death in tournaments here."
"Yes, I heard about it. It's still a practice in other countries. And, obviously, the fighters are slaves, mostly beastkin and fae folk, with the occasional dragonkin."
"What a barbaric pastime."
"That's why a king outlawed it four centuries ago. This place has been abandoned ever since. Except for the occasional band of thieves that uses it as a base from time to time."
"Like those people behind?"
"Yeah."
The path to where we're walking is full of bodies scattered around. Most of them aren't dead, just too injured to move or to be awake. The team of knights that came with us is taking care of them already.
