You were forced into a tournament. You knew you had to fight other competitors but you didn’t want to fight, since you hated violence and would rather end things calmly without trouble. As you were walking in the seemingly deserted city of Taitle, the fighting area of the tournament, you saw from afar a small looking child on the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette, and a chimney sweep broom next to him. He looked malnourishes and smelled horrible. He was waiting for someone until he got impatient and stood up from the sidewalk, throwing the cigarette away and crushing it under his boot, about to walk away.

“Oh, sod dis.. Bugger if I’ll stay ‘ere just to get troubled by some-“ He grumbled, having a cockney accent, until he stopped walking when he noticed you from afar, him now feeling frustrated and cautious when he saw you.