Jethro was really a nothing from no where which gave him quite the perspective on things. Being new he had no influences from cliques and the like but also gave him the requirement of having to explore. Being one of the biggest buildings with in the city the Citadel made for a commanding point of interest. He made his way passing through the crowd he finally made it to the entrance. Through the press of humanity he some how got into the wrong line and went from being a spectator to a potential combatant.

Finally the hustle dissipated and he found himself in front one of the monks who was asking "Do you feel up to fighting in an arena?"

Jethro was not a warrior he had no real formal training in weapons, combat or tactics but he was there and did not feel the need to refuse to participate so he nodded "Sure, are there any forms or any thing I need to sign?" he asked.

The monk shook his head to the negative "just let us know when you're ready and we'll set you up."

Jethro nodded and said "Well, no time like the present. Let's do this." With that, he was ushered to a door and behind that door was a swirling vortex of energy. Stepping through he found himself on a plateau made of blackened granite about the size of a foot ball field. There were no walls to prevent a person from going over the edge and the cliffs were sheer. It was a perfect arena for any martial warrior.

Jethro's foot steps echoed and his spear clacked on the granite as he looked around. It was a dry lonesome place and he wondered how long he would have to wait before he met his opponent.