Valeria licked her lips at the sight before her.  Two men, dressed only in leather loincloths, rolled and tore at each other in the sands of the pit.  A boisterous crowd of ruffians, whores and miscreants cried for blood, their fists full of wagered coin in the air.<br/>"Go fir his eyes!"<br/>"Kill 'im!"<br/>"Make 'im bleed on us!"<br/><br/>It was a beautiful chaos.  Gladiators of the underworld pits had no honor, and no ability to gain any.  They were beasts, and fought like such.  The larger man, who had been pinned and was being choked, quickly reached a hand to his opponents crouch.  With a grip and a yank, he tore at the man's genitals, and the smaller one rolled away, clutching his crouch as blood began to soak his thighs and legs.<br/><br/>Grabbing the heavy wooden club that he'd started the match with, the un-castrated man rose and brought it down on his foes head.  Again and again he pounded, until brains and skull littered the sand of the ring like broken glass.<br/><br/>"Winner...Titanes!"  The referee screamed.  The crowd made various replies, but most expressed their appreciation for the brutal end of the fight.<br/><br/>Valeria was watching from her private balcony.  She stood up and pushed past the curtain, and returned to the upstairs, to the tavern part of her establishment.  She was thinking...though slaves were plentiful, and desperate men were always willing to have a go at the pit, she wanted real gladiators.  She decided to pay a visit to Marcellis, Lanista of a local ludus.  With a little luck, she might convince some of his men to enter the underworld...