Ottavio Ruggerio stood in the tunnel entrance giving his armour one final check fixing buckles and tightening straps. He was about to make his debut for the Luccini Lions though he was no stranger to the arena as he was a veteran of Tilea’s infamous fighting pits. The iron gate creeked open and Ottavio strode confidently into the arena an eruption of noise met him and the teams and he felt the familiar rush of adrenaline surge through his veins.
The arena shook as the Luccini faithful bounced in unison singing and chanting wavong their green and white banners, flags and scarfs it made for a spine tingling spectical.
He crouched down and grabbed a fist full of the dirt that now made up the arena’s playing surface after the longest heatwave in living memory had stripped field of all but a few stubborn tufts of grass. As he rose letting the dirt slip through his fingers as he did, he met the gaze of Arturo Scalucci feared blitzer of the Verrozo Vulcans who had a reputation as mercilous opponent and a master of blood bowls dark arts.
The pair stood staring each other down neither willing to lose face, Scalucci ran his finger across his throat Ottavio allowed a smirk to form on his scarred face this is gonna be fun he thought.