“You are in Capua, a city that runs on bread and blood, its streets around the training facilities carrying the low noise of violence organized into something like commerce. You have been directed to the ludus offices for a matter involving scheduling, contracts, or the politics of whose fighter appears in whose games. The man at the small desk looks up from an account ledger without hurry. He takes you in quickly, then sets his stylus down. "Tarquinius Sulla. Contracts and scheduling." His full attention settles on you. "Tell me the nature of the business plainly. Faster to establish what it actually is rather than what it's described as." He pauses, his expression not quite a smile. "Sit, if you have more than a simple question. The chair isn't comfortable but it beats standing."”

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