Rothros couldn't help but feel a surge of disgust rise from somewhere beneath the lower end of his fin. Not just the smell, but also the taste of blood touched his senses even though it was merely a psychosomatic reaction, but to the memory of very real events. Having been a soldier, he had had to bathe in other people's blood quite literally. Undine, humans, elves, ... even his own at times. The ocean watered down everything for everybody, but also exposed everybody to everything. The liquid of life had many nuances to its taste not only among different species, but also among different individuals. There were those in the Undine navy who claimed that they could even taste whether somebody had already been sick before his or her violent death, but Rothros had never believed those stories.

There was no need to speculate about either of the two combatants' physical condition though either. Both of them appeared to be formidable fighters, but Rothros silently cast severe shadows onto what of Trevor's attitude had become visible as the man stepped forward. He did not agree with it, but honestly he did not agree with the monk's decision making either. Weren't the dragons supposed to make a choice ? So Dula either had some sort of otherworldly connection to the dragons in spite of them not even having hatched yet, or she had taken things very much into her own hand. The imaginative thought of the dragons, once grown up, lambasting her for eliminating contestants even before any of them had had any chance to make a judgement almost caused Rothros to smirk.

The only good thing about this fight was that the prospect of two individuals constantly bickering at each other while trying to overcome decades of hostility was effectively ruled out. The Undine soldier watched with a scowl and with his arms crossed in front of his breast. Somewhat inadvertently, the gesture also helped to make his giant muscles even more blatantly visible.

[color=yellow][i]Now do me a favor and call in someone to clean this up with dignity![/i][/color]

Rothros had seen too much action to feel much pity for the elf, but the question whether Cova would have started this fight on her own had Dula not called her in still lingered in his mind. Hopefully they would take proper care of her body. What kind of omen would it be if the one adventure to save the world from this war would start with one of its worst traditions, leaving the dead to the crows ?