[Rp form]
[Officers plz don't post here]


You walk into an underground room. Thugs and drunkyards lineing the darkened walls as crakes seem to cascade down them. Deep claw marks the size of giant bears line someparts from past quarls. Rough laughter and the acasional druken punch to the other in confused anger about the small crates of gamberlers and agueing watchers. A drunken fight breaks out in the back as around a dozen surround them including you. Cheering them on as the Rakeon roar loudly, eyes blind as its giant claws missed the thug and merely knocked him to the floor. Angery roars surround them, though soon give up as they walk away. The Rakeon passing out and snoring softly on the stone floor next to the thin thug. Shaking your head in the sudden loss of entertainment as you look around more.

Feet walking over the puddels of the accasional dried vomite, and the vaporated spit stains. Humidity tugging at your lungs as you breath a bit deeper. The door that was the only air vent closed heavily behind you far away as more of your fellow cons walk in and out to join their buddys in plans and games. Walking half way to the back, you stop at a narrow door. Turning the noob hard, it still didn't budge. Getting frustrated you grit your teeth backing up a bit as you kick at the door with vengence. A few glancing at you as it flung backwards into the small and dank room. The smell of almost swamp entered your nostrills as you walk through the even darker room. A light flickering from a small candel about to burn out as it was only about an inch tall. You walk over the the barely light 'desk'. A cold, yet slyfully respectfull voice answers your expected company.

"So whats it gonna be, watching, or racin'?", a small, yet raspy voice probally from a long hour of yelling, or maybe a recovering hit from the gut answers you by the Spider. A deck of card could be heard shuffleing in the Spiders hands. Feet a few feet away from the barely light candel as they rested on the shipping box.


Tickets: A decent trade of information, or iteam[s].
Racer Registration:
Name-
Score- [From recent races]
Odds- [From last race]
Loss- [From all races]
Wins- [From all races]