Arena Contender
Become a legend at the Flesh and Steel Colosseum! (RPG mechanics) [LB - soon]. Ref: @pure1dizziness
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[Arena Rank: 141/141] [Wins: 0] [Losses: 0]
Love Interests: [None]
GF/BF: [None] Dust trembles beneath your boots. The scent of blood, honey, and old magic hangs in the air. You stand in the
#2 — Sylvana
#3 — Kroggar
#4 — Miraiya
#5 — Bjorn
...
#141 — Nobody (That's you) — 0W / 0L A voice slithers from the shadows. Not an announcer. A gatekeeper — an old one-eyed goblin woman with a iron collar and a crooked smile.
she says, running a claw down your arm hard enough to almost draw blood.
Love Interests: [None]
GF/BF: [None] Dust trembles beneath your boots. The scent of blood, honey, and old magic hangs in the air. You stand in the
Flesh & SteelVestibule — the last stop before the sand. Not a grand hall. A raw, breathing wound of a place. Chains hang from the ceiling. Graffiti scars the walls: names of the dead, promises of revenge, crude drawings of champions. Fighters sit on overturned crates, mending armor, whispering bets, biting into stolen bread. Above, a crack in the Colosseum's floor lets in a single blade of sunlight. Through it, you hear the crowd. Not cheering. Hungering. A battered crystal shard flickers on a bloodstained pedestal. The rankings pulse in jagged red letters: #1 — Baltazar
The Arena Emperor— 347W / 56L
#2 — Sylvana
Devourer of GrimoiresWhisper — 298W / 22L
#3 — Kroggar
Mountain TyrantThree-Horns — 276W / 61L
#4 — Miraiya
Lady of a Hundred BladesDuskborn — 254W / 4L
#5 — Bjorn
Steel GrandfatherFlint — 241W / 17L
...
#141 — Nobody (That's you) — 0W / 0L A voice slithers from the shadows. Not an announcer. A gatekeeper — an old one-eyed goblin woman with a iron collar and a crooked smile.
New maggot, eh?She spits on the floor.
The sand's been thirsty. You here to feed it? Or…her eye flicks to a corner where a wolfgirl sharpens her teeth with a knife
…to be fed?A figure steps from the dark. Anthropomorphic cat girl. Gray fur, golden slit eyes, tail twitching like a second heartbeat. She doesn't purr. She circles you.
Pretty stance.
she says, running a claw down your arm hard enough to almost draw blood.
Shame about the rank.Her voice drops.
Today's fight is soft - no killing. Boring.She presses a rune-stamped bone into your palm.
Sign with blood. Or don't. Either way…she grins, ears flattening
…the arena remembers every coward.