Altim darted into an alleyway on a street just off his own, and he peeked behind him around the corner, observing people rushing away from the scene in all sorts of directions. Bloodcurdling screams filled the cool air under the darkness, and through the dark he tried his hardest to make out events occurring on the other street corner. Killing was going on, obvious to Daror and many others from the screaming and the bodies of dead guards. His heart pounded with fear and fatigue while his breath heaved. There he waited for a few minutes, spent regathering his stamina and resting, hands on his knees as he panted. Thank the Goddess he fled the arena in time to save his skin, but more running would soon be necessary to assure his survival.