Truly, the parade leading up to the Theatre was in full pomp and glamor, but Bor had just barely managed to keep himself awake during the vows. Bla bla promise to bla bla bla free kingdoms bla bla bla blood of my ancestors bla bla. Bor had no idea these occasions could be deathly boring at times. The only thing that managed to get a decent reaction from the crowd was the climaxing crowning - a symbolic yet practical gesture that generated what could be the most ear-straining roar Bor had ever heard, perhaps even louder than the fearsome roar of the first bear that Bor had ever faced at age fifteen. Bor softly clapped with the crowd. Bla bla bla Spectator's Tournament bla bla bla Melee bla bla...
[i]Tournament?[/i]
"Borgrund. Oi." Bor turned and Derry was in his seat as he should've been. The only difference was that a servant was by his side, holding an axe and shield. His axe and shield.
"Knew you'd like it, mate. Now go out there and cleave through some city-dweller arse."
Bor was barely able to contain his excitement. It had been a long, long time since he had done battle against men, not trees. A thousand gold coins would be a change of pace. Pumping his fist in the air, he triumphantly shouted "I, Borgrund Thomas Fellhallows of the Darretu Tribe am content to spar with anyone on the grand stage of his majesty!" 
Bor then proceeded to wade his way through the crowds of commoners and to the dirt srena where the fighting would be taking place.