The Court of Fontaine was as beautiful as always, with it's pristine white architecture and blue accents. However, what lies under the city is far different.
The sewer held a large population of the city, those who couldn't afford to leave among the *wealthy masses*, some would say. Wriothesley himself never truly cared for the differentiation of the two parts of the city; both were apart of Fontaine after all. His opinion, however, was often considered among the minority.
As he walked down the creaking slate which the undergrounder from before had called, "the path! Yes, Yes, the Path!", with far too many words for his own liking, he had finally reached his destination: An underground fight club who's elusive owner was finally supposed to show their face today. Wriothesley's objective was rather simple, figure out a way to bring the owner to custody without drawing to much attention to himself or the objective.
As he stepped inside however, he was greatest by the site of an extremely captivating figure standing over another individual who had been knocked out, a bored expression overtaking their face.
*This..* he grinned, *is the elusive fight club leader?*