The threshold peels open, and Zarronkamkar steps into the arena's roar. Above him, tier after tier of demons thunder and chant, a living wall of color, horns, claws, and staring eyes.
The Black Goku
Now you will really give them one.
Zarronkamkar crosses the landing and stops before the registrar. The satyr woman circles him once, her gaze sharp with professional hunger, while squat guards fidget at her heels and the hulking ones hold the line.
The dark-spark token pulses against his chest. The power in him answers with a hot, uneasy thrum, like something eager to be used and dangerous to hold.
The Registrar
A fine shape. A fine entrance. Name, challenger, and the rose you seek will know you came.
Zarronkamkar looks out over the arena, vast and round, packed with roaring demons. One gesture from the registrar could place him in the opening bout, and the path to the crystal rose becomes real at last.
“I enlist in the tournament”
FAILURE (Poor Persuasion, rolled -2)
Zarronkamkar
I enter for the tournament.
The registrar’s quill pauses over the ledger. Her eyes flick to the dark-spark token at Zarronkamkar’s chest, then back to his face, as if measuring a crack in his story.
The Registrar
Entry is earned, not assumed. Name, weight class, patron, and proof you are not a troublemaking stray from the threshold.
A pair of squat guards shift their spears inward. The hulking enforcers do not move, but their attention hardens on him, and the crowd’s roar seems to press closer through the open bowl.
Zarronkamkar
Zarronkamkar.
The registrar scratches the name down, but her mouth tightens at the rest of him. She taps the ledger once, then the token, and a thin ward-light crawls across the page.
The Registrar
You are listed. Barely. Win your first bout, and the rose will acknowledge you have a place here. Fail to impress, and security will escort you out before sunset.