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Three doors. Three choices.

Samo, upon hearing the strange dreamer's words, already knew what his place should be. One that would take everything—he recoiled from it. No. No, he had given enough. He was Samo of the Aedui. The mask he had been forced to wear, Rufus, was gone. He had too much to lose now. Elk Charm. Walosi.

But he was still a warrior, even if at times he hated it. Even if at times he loved it. He looked through the second portal, hearing the adulation of the crowd thrumming in his ears. He shook it away: this fight was not for a master's wealth and glory. The many hard years of training, the blood he had spilled, the lives he had taken—let it serve a different purpose now. His mind made, he moved without hesitation through the second door. The hard winter months had worn down his physique, but he was still strong, and he knew this body better now. The din of battle rang in his ears, and blood pumped eagerly through his veins. He watched, careful, before leaping into the right moment with a vicious snarl.

In the arena he often stayed his hand. Today, his fangs showed the monstrous invaders no mercy.