Deep in a snowy forest, within a large 'arena' of sorts, Ithaqua currently kept himself hidden behind a large shack. He held his bow in his hands, arrow drawn and ready to be fired as his blue eyes scanned his surroundings. The pathfinder was breathing heavily, watching, and waiting, for any sign of life from anywhere else in the arena.

This was a killing game, and he was a 'survivor', one of four that were currently fighting to escape this arena and return to the manor that housed them during these games. There was a hunter out there somewhere, too... and if he wasn't careful, Ithaqua would be slaughtered on the spot.