Daric slid dropped one of the daggers to the floor after seeing the Imperial Guards march in, ready to slaughter the group like pigs on the cutting line. He kept the second blade just in case the guards were ordered to actually fight the group instead of just mow them down with arrows. He looked up at the roaring crowd, normal people turned into bloodthirsty hounds at the first sight of violence. But then again, they had every right to want the prisoners dead, most of them had probably killed a relative or friend to the people in the crowd. He sighed as his grisly fate was soon to be met.

Just then, the archers started to leave the arena. The announcer shouted for them back to the pits. He saw the rest were starting to get acquainted with each other, Daric decided not to take the risk of being pelted with fruit or waiting in case the announcer changed his mind and sentenced them to death. He made his way to the bloodworks, dropping the dagger on his way there. When he entered the first thing he did was pick up another rusted sword from a rack. For all he knew this could be some cruel ambush joke.