The king noticed a man sat hunched over a small table, his face buried in his hands. The king cleared his throat, and the man looked up, startled.

“Hail and good eve, fair denizen.” Alexander greeted him.

The man grunted in reply, eyeing the king warily.

“Verily, I wish to inquire of one among my loyal subjects concerning these spectacles of combat,” spoke Alexander, his hand sweeping towards the arena. “Pray, reveal unto me, what enticements beckon thee to this very locale?”

The man’s face lit up at the mention of the fights. “Ah, the pit!” he said with fervor. “Nary, a sight compares to it, your majesty. ‘Tis an opportunity to cast aside the burdens of mundane existence and immerse oneself in the exhilaration of the clashes. The warriors who grace its stage they are the epitome of valor in our realm. Their performances are nothing short of awe-inspiring.”

Alexander nodded, impressed by the man’s passion for the fights. “And pray, what say thee of the fighters themselves? Speak of their mettle and prowess, for I am curious to know thy thoughts.”

The man leaned in, his eyes shining with admiration. “Majesty, verily they are the pinnacle of excellence, a shining example of valor, prowess, and indomitable spirit. As mere onlookers, we humbly express our profound gratitude for their noble sacrifices, as they valiantly risk life and limb to entertain us within these hallowed grounds.”

Alexander nodded, taking in the information.

Haemon, the Steward, said. “My liege, though the pit may serve as a source of amusement and generate some income for the realm, it behooves us to remain vigilant, for it has the propensity to allure unsavory individuals and facilitate dubious undertakings. We must exercise prudence in our association with such establishments.”

Vasos remained quiet but attentive, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble.

Ghorin Pikener, the High General, nodded in agreement. “Indeed, your grace. We must not overlook the safety and well-being of our loyal subjects. The battles waged within the arena can be fierce and unforgiving, and the specter of unfortunate accidents looms ever present. It is our duty to ensure the protection of our people.”

"I comprehend your apprehensions, yet I remain steadfast in my conviction that the advantages given by permitting the pit to thrive outweigh the inherent perils. I shall decree stringent measures to govern and safeguard the well-being of all within the establishment. My esteemed advisors, I express my sincere gratitude to thee for thy prudent counsel."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

King Alexander and his entourage eventually found the office of Drophar, the owner of the pit. The room was dimly lit, with flickering torches casting long shadows on the walls. Drophar himself was a tall, imposing man with a thick beard and a bald head. He wore a dark cloak and a stern expression as he greeted the king.

“Greetings, your highness, and a warm welcome to my modest domain,” spoke Drophar with a deep, resonant tone. “Pray tell, what brings your esteemed presence to my office this day?”

“I harbor an intrigue in partaking in wagers upon the forthcoming combats,” responded the king, his gaze fixated upon the myriad ledgers and volumes strewn throughout the chamber. “Might thou offer thy guidance and help in this endeavor?”

Drophar nodded, gesturing for the king to follow him over to a nearby room while he spoke. “Indeed, your highness, it would be my utmost pleasure to assist you in this pursuit. Within our realm, we offer an extensive array of wagers to cater to your esteemed desires, ranging from individual bouts to the grand culmination of tournament victors.”

The betting table was a large, rectangular wooden structure covered in a faded green cloth. Years of use had scuffed and worn the edges of the betting table, and various lines and numbers denoting the odds for each fighter marked the surface. A group of attendants in matching uniforms stood behind the table, scribbling down bets and exchanging gold coins with excited gamblers. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and alcohol, and the sound of raucous cheering and jeering filled the room.

“How much would you like to bet?” Drophar asked.

King Alexander turned to Haemon. “Command the withdrawal of five thousand gold coins from the Royal Bank.” he ordered.

Haemon looked surprised. “Five thousand gold, my liege? Verily, that sum nearly depletes our treasury in its entirety!”

The king nodded. “I am well aware, yet a strong intuition compels me towards this encounter.”

Haemon hesitated for a moment before bowing, “As you command, my liege.”

They waited near the betting table for Haemon to return. “I shall place a wager of 5000 gold upon Bloud’s victory,” the king said confidently to the attendant.

Drophar’s eyes widened. “Art thou certain, your highness?” he asked.

Alexander nodded firmly. “I hold steadfast faith in my champion,” he said with conviction. “Repeatedly, he has showed his prowess upon the field of combat, and I harbor unyielding confidence that he shall prevail triumphantly.”

As the attendant handed him a slip of paper with the details of his bet, Alexander smiled. “May fortune smile favorably upon me,” he said to his companions before saying his farewell to Drophar and turning his attention back to the arena. They made their way to the central balcony of the arena and took their seats.