<div class="floatleft">(http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2015/056/6/f/jiroph_by_pixeldust86-d8jjoji.jpg)</div>Asvett may of well been pushing a stone table. He just looked down at her, not embarrassed but regretful of what had transpired. He only hoped that she understood it wasn't entirely his fault. It quickly occurred that she wouldn't unless he explained why he did it, and she had asked. Jiroph just wasn't sure if he should tell her. They were behind closed doors, but could he trust her? He just watched her as she continued to speak and then turn the knob to start the water. A steaming hot bath would be nice but as the water filled the tub he listened to her.<strong>"I could have done something else. I'm sorry."</strong><br/><br/>But then she took it to a  bit more of a personal level. That changed his disposition towards her, and now he felt as if he could trust her. Surely she didn't hold any feelings that would be lasting in her profession, but he knew now that she wasn't apathetic towards him.<strong>"I didn't want the tavern to know who I am, or the guards to catch ear of it. If they did then I truly wouldn't be able to come back."</strong>He looked into her eyes from where he was standing and found it hard to say but couldn't keep it from her.<strong>"I was unsure if I'd be welcome here. And I didn't want you to think badly of me."</strong>He begun to take off his coat to reveal more of the dark markings that led to his face down his neck into his undershirt, and then back out to his arms. If he was to bathe, he'd have to take his clothes off anyway.<br/><br/><strong>"He was most likely a spectator for a sport long outlawed but still practiced in some places. What I do. He was about to say the League of Gladiators."</strong>If she ever had experience in places where the population was of few humans and elf-kind, she would have heard of it and know the details. Prisoners, warriors, and sometimes random people were handpicked to fight to the death in massive death arenas, nearly always against their will. He was one of them, and the most successful by far. The people he trained with, the survivors, were often who he faced against in battle. Any other fighters he made friends with were quickly put against him. On his arms and collarbone, as well as a few sparse on his neck, were scars from battle. The marks were permanent, labeling him as a member, each separate line and dot representing each kill.<strong>"I have survived the most battles in the history of it."</strong>Which was just a nice way of saying that he had killed the most people there.