For generations, your family held the Blackthorn Arena, the oldest in the realm, until shame stripped it away. Now, having returned as a nameless merchant to buy back your legacy, you face a new threat: "The Roar from the North".
As the arena master, you watched from the high box as a massive northern champion took the sand. He didn't carry a shield. Instead, he carried the curse, or perhaps, its gift. Blackthorn.Arena.The.Roar.from.the.North-CODEX....
: Among the chaos, you found an opportunity to recruit one of the three unique northern champions, a warrior who could bridge the gap between human strategy and beastial rage. For generations, your family held the Blackthorn Arena,
To survive this northern onslaught, you had to adapt. You sent your most loyal slaves to track the Kirrmans, eventually uncovering the path to the , unlocking the ability for your own gladiators to take on werebear and werewolf forms. He didn't carry a shield