In the entrance room, a figure in some sort of armour fell out of the air around a meter up, landing with the clank and clutter of armour. He groaned and then looked up, flicking on a flashlight sitting on his helmet.
"Where am I? And how bloody much did I drink last night?" He spoke with something of a mixed accent, leaning towards an Australian aone.
"Hello, and welcome to the arena. Please, proceed through the door."
The figure got up, fingering something on his belt.
An arena huh? Been awhile since somebody was so bleeding stupid to put me in an arena. Ah well, let's find the bugger in charge and get outta here.
He walked out of the dark room, turning off his flashlight, then cautiously stepped down the corridor towards the lounge. He was wearing dark and dirty armour with a full face helmet, although now he pulled the visor up and the gas mask down around his neck. At his belt was a myriad of pockets, a revolver in a holster and a sword. Across his back an old single-shot rifle was slung and he had a belt of ammunition across his chest, along with a knife.
OoC: Thought I'd jump in for a while since you guys seem to be having such fun.