Bored Lord

Fighting someone in the Wood had always been a private affair, almost intimate. Concealed in the canopy's shroud, a single, precise strike earns victory, the battle over before it begins. Blending into the backdrop of nature, ambush is king, a win decided by the rules of the Green Word. The prize is survival.

But in the Arcadion, stealth means little under the rules of the city. Numerous trees are replaced by numerous bodies in the stands, voices in a collective, feverish roar for blood, for spectacle, for the thrill of witnessing drawn-out violence that is taboo outside the stadium walls. A new fighting style is adopted to to show off, to titillate, clothing designed to draw attention to the body as the action unfolds.