You save time by doing both at once.
The arena master compliments you on the nice injury.
Thanks, you say. You can’t see shit out of it.
Anyway, the arena. This arena. There was a dance competition or something here, right?
Yes, he sighs. About every week or so. There’s one happening the day after tomorrow.
Could someone still sign up for that?
The orc says he cannot fathom why any self-respecting individual would want to, but yes. Someone could.
And…. you’ve heard some arenas give all the competitors armor and stuff, to make sure they’re outfitted the same way. Is there anything like that here?
Yes, the orc replies, as tribute to his arena’s golden age they still outfit all competitors with their choice of a light or heavy Kvatch Arena ra- I’m sorry, are you wearing a bedsheet?
No, you explain, this is a priceless tapestry professionally emblazoned with the white flag of surrender. You were looking through your vast wardrobe for something to wear today and this just seemed like the most appropriate. Tell me more about the free outfit.
Right. The orc explains that it’s an armored arena raiment. Standard issue, back when this place had real fights and he gave a damn. As back then, the competitor gets a choice between a light or heavy raiment when they sign up.
So I could actually request heavy armor for a dance competition?
Not if you’re trying to convince him you have any intent of actually competing, he says.
Though, ah, about that. Hypothetically, if I did sign into this dance competition thing, would there be any sort of obligation to actually go through with it? Anything binding me into it?
No, the orc says, theoretically you could just mislead him, sign up, take his fancy arena armor, and leave forever. There’s really nothing he could do to stop you if you did.
That’s the first good news I’ve heard all day!
But I won’t do that.
You tell the arena master you respect his profession. Running an arena and all.
After you change you’ll even leave him this blanket as collateral, if he wants.
He asks you why there are two holes torn in it. You tell him that you didn’t want to be recognized on the way over here so you just kind of ghosted. In retrospect though you guess you only needed one.
You apologize for taking up so much of his time. You just have a couple more questions you want to clear up before committing yourself to anything.
Assuming you actually do compete, there is a potential cash prize, right? Yes, he says. The exact amount varies; it’s a cut of the admission fees, depending how many bored people come to gawk.
You ask whether magic is allowed. Your relationship with it right now is a little complicated, but you want to know if the option is on the table. He says you can use anything you need; magic, potions, a bonemold shield, whatever.
You ask him if the dance has to be something sleazy. He reminds you that you were the one who got half naked and started clambering all over a lamppost. He had nothing to do with that.
Oh. Right. And, ah, lastly, you ask him what your chances of actually winning this are. Hypothetically, if you entered. He tells you that the very fact you are having this conversation means you have put more thought into this than anyone else who has ever come through those doors, ever. So probably pretty good.
Alright then. You guess…. what do you have to do to sign up?
The arena master says there’s just one question you have to answer: blue team or yellow team?
You ask him what he means.
He tells you that the competition is team-based, and they’re even right now. It just determines what color raiment you get and whether you’re teamed with the nord or the dunmer. Usually he’d just shuffle someone like you onto Yellow with the nord for color consistency, but he figures he might as well give you the choice. Maybe let you turn this into a gent-versus-ladies thing, if you want.
So, yellow or blue. What will it be, khajiit?