The fight ring in District 6 wasn't particularly fancy. Just a clean, rune-bordered circle tucked almost unassumingly between two humming smithing halls, its stone worn smooth by countless practice bouts.
It was mostly used by patrolling officers looking to sharpen their edge or by reckless festival-goers eager to settle bets with blunted steel.
Which was probably why Jarik grinned, a wide, predatory flash of teeth, when they walked past it.
His eyes, usually sharp with observation, now gleamed with competitive fire.
"Wanna go a round?" he asked, already loosening the straps on his wrist guards, his body language practically vibrating with eagerness.
Kael blinked. "Now? Here?" He gestured vaguely at the few curious onlookers starting to drift towards the ring, drawn by the scent of a potential skirmish.
Theo smiled, a knowing, almost mischievous glint in his eye.
Someone was about to receive a beating.
