~Doctore, Bathhouse~<br/><br/>The door shook and then flew open with a savage kick from the Doctore, whip in hand and with a few of the slaves close behind.  "What's going on here?" he asked in angry irritation.  "Is the Ludus not enough for some of you?"  His eyes fixed immediately upon Berenagrius and Cinegtorix.  "Do you grow bored so easily, being given the chance to bathe and relax, that the fire within you cannot be contained?  Or do you simply seek death so badly that you would sacrifice the glory of the arena and the money that the Dominus paid for your lives?"<br/><br/>He pointed back outside to the looming structure, likely only barely visible from the current vantage point of the bath.  "The blood within your veins belongs to the sands of the Ludus.  If you cannot at least strive to keep it within your veins long enough to be chosen for battle, then perhaps you should ask your owner to let yourself be flayed alive for the amusement of the crowd.  At the very least, you can be put to use in a tragedy play, if you don't have the drive to be a true gladiator."<br/><br/>His eyes flicked over the rest of the assembled once, just to make sure that no one else was causing problems, before picking two of the slaves behind him.  "Take each to his cell.  They obviously aren't very hungry either, with all that energy they have to burn off."  Then his eyes went to the one who had alerted him of the troublemakers.  "Go and tell the Dominus what you have seen, that two of the would-be gladiators are all too ready to fight and to die, and ask him if he wants this handled by letting these two settling their differences in front of a crowd."