[i][h3]Various Places in the Arena of Gurata[/h3][/i]
As Gortul's big hands went out to catch the coin, the Prince quietly listened to what Dalious had to say. So the man was a pirate, which presented a unique sort of problem to the royal, but in a way Dalious brought up a way to deal with it. Having him fight in the arena, an enclosed space where he couldn't get away, was probably a good idea to make some use of him no matter what... But at the same time, the Prince couldn't help but be suspicious of the man's intentions. To just tell him that he was a pirate was a risky move, so perhaps Dalious had something else in mind... But his story about what happened far to the south just reminded the Prince of how desperate the situation was rapidly becoming, and that even more difficult days were ahead. What was one more minor risk to add to the pile?

[b]"Sorry to say I haven't heard of you... but perhaps that's a good thing, since I'm willing to give you a chance at all. Consider this a start, Dalious; I don't know what you've done before, but I won't consider it atoned for with just one battle."[/b] With that said, he then looked to the next person who had offered to fight, and had to fight off the instinctive urge to refuse. It had more than a little to do with the fact that when he had last seen Lora, she (and he, for that matter) had been so young, and it carried over into a desire to protect rather than accept. Even as he thought this he corrected himself, acknowledging that Lora had grown, and if she felt like she was strong enough to help then he had no reason to stop her.

[b]"If you're sure, Lora."[/b] He gave her a nod, and even as he did so he carefully adjusted to the side slightly as Vesta passed. At the woman's words he blinked in surprise, quickly looking over his shoulder at her back as she continued on. The Prince was no fool (though one could debate he had foolish tendencies); he knew that since their conversation the night before, things had been... tense with the woman. It showed through her words, and how he simply ignored her for the most part. He hadn't been expecting her to volunteer, but even with her apparent injury from long ago he had no doubt she was still a capable fighter. He nodded once more.

[b]"Thank you, Vesta."[/b] Another person volunteered that the Prince could only hope for then, being one of the two that they had picked up in the village that they had saved. He gave the small woman a grateful nod, before glancing around briefly, looking for her companion the Wanderer. He almost missed the man, who had moved to a position to hide behind Gortul's bulk, but the Wanderer didn't even looked to the Prince or seemed like he would volunteer. The Prince was more than comfortable with taking what he could get, though.

[b]"Very well then, traveler. Thank you."[/b] The last space after her was filled quickly by one of the possible recruits, Arvis. Though young, he seemed to have at least a little experience, so the Prince didn't feel like giving him a chance would have been too much of a detriment. In general, the group that had volunteered wasn't made up of the strongest fighters available to the Sentinels, but the Prince felt that there was more than enough strength overall to balance everything out. The Prince's hand came up as he turned to walk a little, patting Arvis on the shoulder.

[b]"Alright, Arvis. Guess this'll be a way to see if you're up for what we do."[/b] Giving a calm sort of smile, the Prince's hand dropped as he turned to give one last look to those that had volunteered once again. After a moment, his calm smile gained more confidence as he gave another nod, pleased with himself and the group in general. The next day they would finally have the support of Gurata; the Prince gave no thought to the alternative, not even considering it as an option.

[b]"Thank you again everyone. The day is yours to do with as you please now, just be ready for the fight tomorrow. Those who aren't fighting, make sure to be there, just in case. You especially, Diane, in case someone gets hurt."[/b] He looked to the Sentinel as he said this, who gave a nod while bringing up a hand to brush through her hair dismissively; her being there for healing was obvious. The Prince continued on to say, [b]"Those of you who are fighting, make sure to eat well, get plenty of rest, and do whatever you need to prepare. Chiefs, is there anything else we need to know?"

"I'd say you're good, considering as you have eight, Prince."[/b] Kisarin said. [b]"You won't know anything about the champions Seryosa picks for her side until tomorrow, but that goes both ways. For the time being don't sweat about it, because tomorrow is all that matters."[/b] Suddenly, a grin appeared on the Chief's face. [b]"So with that said, who wants to gorge themselves and black out? You haven't lived until you've eaten with Guratans."[/b]

Yihira gave a very, very loud and exasperated sigh then, shaking her head as she rubbed her forehead. [b]"I suppose he'll lead you to the dining halls, then. Those of you who want to remain coherent for a little while longer, come with me. I'll lead you to what I have in mind for your rooms, and then to the food. Other than that, I'd say the Arena is open to you all."[/b]

With that, the group split up once again, most following one Chief or the other. Those who followed Kisarin were led through the hallways and stairwells back to the first floor, where they were led through the double doors into the largest of the dining halls within the Arena. The room could only be described as beautifully chaotic as members of the various tribes dined together with a rambunctious attitude. Among the various Guratan natives were a few foreigners, those who had earned a place by fighting in the Arena, and seeing as the news had already spread about the fight to take place at noon the next day those who travelled with a Prince were treated in the same way. An unorganized band playing strange, old, and mostly percussive instruments were hard at work adding to the chaotic racket made by everyone else within the dining halls. More than once did a fight break out, often broken up by Kisarin himself as he held full sized men apart with the same ease that one might lift a kitten, but it did nothing to lower the overall mood of the dining hall, and in fact seemed to be another form of entertainment.

Those who followed Yihira were led to the second floor, to the rooms mentioned before. Even though they were in another nation entirely, the way the rooms were lined up along the curve of the hallway reminded the Sentinels of home, even if the general look and decoration of the Arena was very different from typical Barcean tastes. Each room was very simple, but at least enough for a single night.

Time passed as each member of the Sentinels and those travelling with them did whatever they desired to help it speed along. Some ate and enjoyed themselves, some prepared, and some kept to solitude. The Prince made it his goal to check on everyone to some degree, and for the most part he was successful, though there was one man who eluded him even after the sun went down outside and the moon began to rise: the Wanderer. The man had seemed to simply disappear after the Prince's dismissal, and Cyril hadn't seen him when he had gone to eat, nor at the rooms that had been provided for them. To begin with the Prince hadn't been too bothered by it, but now a sort of unsettled feeling had settled upon him for whatever reason, and sleep at least at the moment seemed impossible.

He made an opportunity out of the circumstance, and decided to walk through the Arena a little bit more, now that it was night and much quieter. Torches provided the halls of the Arena with decent light, though many Guratans had made different parts of the floor their place to sleep, whether due to too much merry-making or simply because they could. Cyril carefully passed through these parts to the more empty sections of the Arena, often going up and down the various floors.

It was on the third floor he found the Wanderer, something that made him blink in surprise. The small, odd man was standing in front of a closed door, staring out it without blinking. His hand hovered just a little above his sheathed blade, as if he were prepared to draw the curved weapon to cut the door down. It was a strange sight, made even stranger by how intently the Wanderer stared, all traces of emotion gone from his face... But for some reason, Cyril felt more at unease than amused.

[b]"Wanderer?"[/b] At the sound of his voice, the man jumped slightly, his concentration breaking suddenly and his hand recoiling from his blade. Quickly, the short man looked in the direction of the Prince, blinking several times with a startled expression on his face.

[b]"Prince? It's quite late, and you have a fight tomorrow. What are you doing here?"

"Decided to take a walk to clear my head. What are you doing?"

"Uh... It's... complicated........"[/b]