You're thrown roughly through the door into a dark, crowded room. A few faces follow you as you stumble in. On their faces you see fear, hope, anger, and despair. Seeing you as nothing special, they turn away, looking back towards the iron gates in front of them. A few whimper or mutter to themselves. Outside the gate, you catch glimpses of the crowd, yelling and cheering at the battle just won. Soon the gate would open, and you would be forced out to fight for your life against all manner of beasts.

While the clothes of all present are ragged and dirty, traces of their previous lives can be seen. One wears what were once the splendid robes of a noble, now ragged and covered in mud and other filth. Another has the look of a farmer, and clutches a pitchfork tightly to his chest, his only means of defending himself. Others wear the remains of armor, undoubtedly soldiers captured in some war, sold to the arena when the nation they fought for abandoned them. In the front, waiting patiently before the door, sits an ogre. Most of the slaves seem more afraid of the ogre than the coming battle, though the ogre sits and does nothing. On his back, you can see a scar in the form of a three-talon claw.


Spoiler
Show
Feel free to talk to each other or the other slaves. You won't have too much time before the gates open, but you can exchange a few words. None of you know each other (unless part of your background) or anyone else here, but you're probably the best equipped and oddest looking of everyone here, excluding the ogre. If anyone wants to try and recognize the symbol on the ogre, go ahead and make a religion check.