Logan's aggression was at an all-time high and he needed to relieve some of the pent up frustration. The favorite choice for taking care of such was the Citadel, always the Citadel. There was something to fighting a foe one on one and going all out, especially with the knowledge even if he were to die he would be revived by the Ai'Brone monks.

With a smirk, he twisted the doorknob leading to his chosen arena which was a throwback to one of his favorite battle arenas from his past. He slid through the door with a bounce to his step, and as his feet touched the tiled floor he grinned wide at the sight of the two large sliding glass doors. The entire panes opened before him as he got close. He took a step back, and they closed. The psion knew the magic involved in such a contraption had to be immense.

As he passed through the sliding glass doors, he moved up to a couple of rows of counters upon which sat devices he learned of long ago. With the right sequence of buttons pushed, a hidden drawer would spring open and make a 'cha-ching' sound. If he were lucky enough, gold pieces would be his prize. He quickly pressed a bunch of buttons over and over until eventually the drawer sprang open revealing no gold pieces. Logan pocketed the few pieces of paper in the drawer and then closed it. The paper was worthless, but he figured it might come in handy for some purpose later.

Making he way down one of the sixteen aisles, he paused as his eyes fell upon the all too familiar plastic swords. For some reason in that arena the swords at his sides were useless, but the plastic swords hanging beside him were quite useful. He grabbed a couple and ripped them from their cardboard prisons and slid them into the inside of his trenchcoat. His eyes bounced around, and then stopped at an array of tiny brightly colored building blocks.

He knew from experience they made fantastic caltrops if spilled out on the floor, so he grabbed several packages and tossed a couple hundred of the blocks all over the floor of the aisle. If he was lucky, his foe might trip on them or injure themselves. Brandishing the plastic swords, he crouched down behind the end of the aisle and laid in wait.