The first thing that hit him as he entered the arena wasn't the smell of blood, the hot sun on his stony skin, or the feeling of too many eyes focusing on him, it was the sheer annoyance at himself for allowing that rat-faced (Literal in this case as he had a beastman bloodline) charlatan to sweet talk him into fighting a few matches in the arena in exchange for the information he had on his father movements.
He sighed, it was the first lead he had managed to get since starting his journey and it was all thanks to a small stroke of luck, the harbormaster at Helgaskr managed to "remember" his father's destination after he bribed her with enough meed to drawn a housecat, apparently his father was an odd enough figure to capture her attention as he took passage on a ship headed towards the moving city of Al-Marabar, with this information it was only a matter of finding passage for himself and then finding the correct information broker once he arrived. Sadly the only one he could find that wasn't
human was the beforementioned rat-based beastman who was quick to strike some manner of deal with the arena organizations who would give him a cut of the attendance earnings for the matches in which he participated, or at least that was what he thought happened as the broker had a really obnoxious and incoherent way of explaining why his matches would be more appealing to the audience.
And now here he was, under the hot and blistering sun and with far,
far too many eyes looking at him from all sides.
His hand were shaking a little and he had to take a second to compose himself. At least he would get his information after this and he was even assured that anything he earned from his matches would be his alone. Truth be told he was almost out of funds after bribing the harbormaster and the cost of travel to this arid land so getting more money was something that would have become a concern eventually, perhaps this situation was more favorable than he allowed himself to give credit for.
Squaring his shoulders and ignoring the crowd that followed his every movement
make it stop! he focused on his opponent and found himself surprised.
Not by the fact that his adversary sported a huge spiky club resting on his shoulder or the determined gaze that stared back, no, what surprised him was finding that his opponent wasn't
humanHe was a youkai.
What type he couldn't tell, never actually having seen one but it was obvious to all onlookers what he was, just as his own skin marked him as kin to all Jotun, he wondered for a second if it was intentional that he was facing another non-human combatant and if it was then would all his opponents be other races?... then the second was over and he readied his shield and sword combo, whether or not his next challenger would be human was not important right now, he had to give a good showing so the broker didn't have an excuse to without the information citing that he didn't participate enough.
With some luck nothing would go wrong and he would be out of this place soon.