You smell it before you see it - damp straw, old blood, dried ordure, and the sour sweat of cheering crowds. Within the walled Beastmarket (colloquially known as the Bloodpit), a central sunken pit ringed by iron cages echoes with growls as beasts are readied to fight. Coin changes hands fast.

"Two coppers on the clawed one," a guttural-voice man mutters, not taking his eyes off the scaled lizard-like creature in one cage.

"Pah!" a woman beside him scoffs. "That scaly bastard's not gonna win. My bet's on the other, the behemoth the other side."

The beasts in the Bloodpit fight to the death. Winners earn good coin - and sometimes, a name for themselves.