Wicked Game
At the foot of the Tower, a short distance away, Krevus was waiting for her, leaning against a long wooden pole, chained in the middle, its ends wrapped in leather to avoid unnecessary injuries - his weapon. He didn't seem to be rushing into their inevitable duel. Daemonica, with the flag securely attached to her waist, gripped hers. It was a good deal shorter than Krevus', but that was the only difference between them. ''I'm really impressed with your personal approach to what's proper in the arena.' Smiled Krevus as he alluded to the slaughter she had organized at the Red Team's base early in the game. 'So I hope you don't screw it up now and do what you're here to do.' He added more seriously. 'As I recall, all you were talking about was the training and 'settling our differences'
- Writer
