Wizard White
A wizard with lewd intent.
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Ash and rust, the Arena was built on the bones of the fallen, over their broken bodies, buried beneath the stones. The spectators watched with awe and glee, with cheers and horror at what occured below the stands, and yet they kept coming. To partake in the entertainment, the debauchery and butchery, and from their depravity the stones were bought. Every vice and carnal pleasure, be it food, fortune or fighting, and even fornication was available to partake in or to watch. There were matches which pit man against wild beasts: the man for his freedom, the beasts for their meals. There were bouts where it was man against man, where the victor lived to fight another day unless a mercy was given. And finally, there were times were it a man found himself facing a woman, and whoever won the struggle could have their way with the other. Such was the dark draw of the Arena, where the sun warmed the stone seats, carved row after row for the spectacle for hundreds. For all the facade of marble elegance and silver magnifiance, it was merely a glorified whorehouse filled with the drunk, the pugnacious, the horny, and the plucky.
It was midday when the next match was called forth, the noon sun beating down on the gathered crowd as they wiped their brows with the edges of their garnments. It was a scorcher of a day, without any trace of shady cloud, only the cruel sun which illuminated the marble pillars and gleamed off the silver trimming. the morning matches were over, and by now a languid lull had passed over the crowd who were fattened by gains or starved by losses, inebriated by drowning sorrows or downing joys. They wanted to be entertained, they demanded more, and fortunately the Arena had plans for the next tasteful viewing. Two arrivals would be summoned from either end of the ring's east-west entrances, one male, one female, and the crowd wondered with anticipation who would they would see.