Unfortunately, Duvain was in a trance for most of the ride. In fact, she might have fallen asleep with her eyes open at one point. However, when she awoke, the first thing she noticed was that the cart had stopped. The lanista shouted some words at them, but Duvain was too busy realizing that a sloth clung to her arm. Confused and disoriented, Duvain attempted to peal it off of her. Without realizing it, she was the only one left in the cart. Before she got yelled at, she abandoned her attempt at getting rid of the beast on her and rushed out. 

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light, but when she did, she was in the middle of a large city. Duvain had never seen anything like it. In her village people lived a comfortable distance from each other, but here everything was jammed together. She suddenly felt clausterphobic and couldn't move. A rough tug on the arm from a guard finally got her moving again. But still, the sensation of everything closing in on her lingered.

The guards shackled her, giving her rough treatment. Her hair was pulled, and her body was pushed around. Occasionally her face was slapped for insubordination. For some strange reason, no one questioned the sloth. 

As Duvain got closer to arena, the sounds became overwhelming. Cheers, clashes of metal, grunts, and cries of agony filled her ears. The raw sounds felt so surreal to Duvain that she almost forgot that she was going to be in that ring. So, she waited in line, waiting for the inevitable fight she'd have to endure.