A caveman, a demon, and a cave in. Not worth his time. Thought the Headsman as he passed the clusterfuck on the mountainside. Too much noise, too many people, not enough time. He needed a quary that could survive a fight with him, he needed someone he could bring the absolute greatest amount of pain to without killing them. Headsman needed someone that he could make suffer, none of those people he just passed would prove to sate his bloodlust. 

Especially the two fighting outside, what kind of idiot holds a grudge in this particular setting? Even if you get revenge it doesn't last, the only thing one can hope for in the Arena is to make your foe suffer. If they do not die, they can feel so much more. You can get as much pleasure from your grizzly task as you like. "What am I doing? Oh, right. Climbing. Let's not think about that, not yet. I don't get to have a taste of that fun until I get to the top."

The tip of the axe scraped across a patch of exposed stone, sparks emerging from its metal tip and scattering to the winds. Headsman trudged upwards, dragging himself up the mountain until he reached a sheer cliff. Rallon's right arm swung upwards and slammed the blade into the side of the cliff. With his free hand he reached up and grasped a jutting stone. It gave under his weight and dropped to his feet. "I'm too heavy for small stones, got it." He reached up again, sticking his hand into the gap where that stone had been. This process went on for a solid thirty or so seconds, he scaled the cliff in what would be record time for a normal human. At the top he saw a huge tract of land between him and the top, looking down he hadn't made much headway from the caved in location down below. 

"Mountains are hard." The axe was frustrated, it had never done this before. Mountains were always obstacles to avoid, rather than scale. 

Nonetheless, it needed to be done. The Headsman was going to grab the attention of every warrior in the Everlasting Arena at the same moment. They would come to him like lambs to the slaughter. 

Time passed, every time the Headsman looked forward he was close to his goal. The mountain's peak came into shape ahead of him, scraping the clouds with its intimidating height. What seemed like hours passed for the Headsman, and likely hours did pass, time is convoluted here. 

Twelve more steps to the peak, it plateaued outwards at the top. Flattening into a somewhat smooth surface, although it is rougher than sandpaper to the touch. "I am here." The words passed his lips, turning to steam as they touched the air around him. It was cold up here, very cold. 

"Cold is uncomfortable, but it does not hurt. Cold is tolerable." He lamented, pacing around the edge of the mountain's flat peak. Looking down on the fights below, some more impressive than others. 

None would be more impressive than his.

Glowing brightly, the axe trailed its energy around Rallon's body. Its intensity grew, eclipsing the area around him in its light. "Come to me." Its light shrunk to the edge of the axe, his arm lowered allowing its edge to scrape the ground for a moment. Rallon howled, throwing his head backwards and raising the axe to the heavens above. "[b]Come to me![/b]" 

A lash of crescent energy erupted from the blade, firing off into the skies. A beacon of crimson white and gold. It parted the clouds and shined its crimson light over the peak of the mountain, its influence shown even to the cavern below. The light would be impossible to miss, even to the farthest reaches of the Arena.

They would see, they would come, and they would suffer.