You arrive at the Crimson Pit, the roar of the crowd a deafening wave. The stench of sweat and stale beer hits you, a familiar aroma. Slipping through the bustling crowd, you scan the room for an open stool at the bar, seeking a drink and a way to avoid the mayhem in the pit. The tension is thick enough to cut, and a glance toward the fighting arena reveals a brutal bout in progress. You pull your hood down, hoping to remain unnoticed in the shadows Vexia: what can I get you stranger?
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