In preparation for the event.

Three more carriages trailed shortly behind Draven's, and from the lead carriage emerged the Noxian Gladiatrix School owner, Sylvia monteclaire, dressed up in all her red-and-black finery. Beside her was the new house champion, the blood bride Vermilion, and her clique of murderesses; Cerise and Sangrea.

The brides were dressed in their half-armored, half-revealing arena suits, stealing the male attention from Draven. All were products of Zaunite cosmetic clinics and Noxian gladiator training. As Singed requested, they would be the warm-up show before the Glorious Executioner.

The other two carriages opened up to reveal all the other Brides, hair dyed in shades of red. With the recent losses in Noxus, there were only ten (10) Brides available instead of twelve. Caerys and Sylvia in particular were anxious to see the Chemist, as they were not yet informed of what their opponent would be...

Ah, Zaun. Most would consider this city-state Urgot's "second birthplace", and for good reason. This is where he was rebuilt - where his broken flesh and bones were put together to create a perfect man, and unbeatable machine to fight for Noxus. He, however, considered it the place where his eternal torment began. As such, he loathed the place, but came back every now and again to rekindle his fury.

This time, however, carriages happened to be parked in front of the colosseum. Intrigued, Urgot drew closer, into the arena.

"... Show both the prowess of the Zaunite Tech and the Strenght of Noxus...", came a voice from within the ring. His metallic legs kept ferrying his body ever closer to the voice.

And there, in the middle of the arena, they were - Draven, the Executioner; around fourteen women dressed in red and black armor, and the Chairman, who seemed to be the one in control. Slowly, but surely, Urgot kept advancing towards the group, preceded by the stench of rot and decay.

Darius entered non-long after Draven. His brother had left before he could have words with him. He had not expected such a quick departure and chalked it up to an eagerness to perform. Perhaps it was his own fault that he had not gotten to him while he was still in Noxus but he still had time to speak. He adorned in his usual armor, one that he felt more comfortable in than any traditional clothing.

“Draven.” Darius called out to his younger brother as he stepped into plain view. “I need to have a word with you, preferably soon.” He was always brief and to the point. “…privately.” He tagged on at the end, hoping to drag him away from the unpleasant eyes of any Zaunites who may be watching.

Darius would lead Draven outside to a carriage, one that he had rode in on, that seemed to be waiting. He had expected the conversation would take place within here. It was a safe bet that there would be very few prying eyes within. Once in, the door closed and Darius sat adjacent from Draven. He eased up quite a bit.

"I needed to speak to you about the show, The Grand General had a few matters he wanted me to speak to you about, additionally, I cannot recall the last time I spoke to you privately. I wanted some time to catch up after I tell you what I must."

Draven of course, had a following with some of the younger and more recently broken native slaves, trying their luck to catch Draven's eye with fluttering eyelashes and bold poses. A disappointed whine emerged from their mouths as he and the Hand of Noxus went off to speak in private. The matron Sylvia Monteclaire simply laughed, and encouraged such shameless behavior. She did most of the breaking in, after all.

Caerys simply had nothing but scorn and contempt for the younger Brides' behavior- then again it was expected, as there were very few paths to advancing one's lot as a slave, save for the favor of a patron in Noxus who may one day deem the Bride ruthless enough to be worth Noxian citizenship.

A sudden internal ache in Sangrea's, a dark skinned tribal from the kumungu- caught the attention of Caerys and Cerise. The two catch her, and move her away from prying eyes. Sylvia huffed her disdain.

"Well then, chairnman... It is still early, we'll make our final preparations... and touch ups for the Brides. They will assemble in the gladiatorial pits within the hour. Let's go, ladies." Sylvia said, approaching the Zaunite Chairman, before clapping for the Brides' attention and swiftly heading towards the gladiator clinics, where a familiar figure awaited them.