At first glance the arena seems to be hills of lush vegetation surrounded by some sort of fog, however on closer inspection, it is really islands of vegetation and hills suspended over lava rivers and fire beneath, so watch your step, the fog isn't fog at all but steam from where there are streams flowing off the sides of the islands and down onto the lava below.
On the top level of the arena it is open to the air above, and has lush green vegetation and hills, lots of shadows, lots of places to hide. Some of the islands are only a few feet across, more like stepping stones, while some are quite large, the central one being the largest with a Greek style building at the top.
Within the Greek style building there are a few 6 foot tall Greek statues
Beneath the "islands" the lava an fire below are broken apart by rocky areas that are free of lava and fire
There are some stone steps leading down towards the lava/fire beneath at various points
The arena is open to the sky and elements
Nyxil-Child of Nyx -Black-Blood Nightingale Age:21Height: 6'1"Weight: 125 lbs. Main Weapon: Chakrams, Daggers, Electrified Sword, Steel Crossbow, Poisons – Every man casts a shadow; not his body only, but his imperfectly mangled spirit.
The first thing Nyxil noticed as he fell was the heat. From where he stood ten seconds ago at the edge of the main floating island, he couldn't help but question the recurring levitation theme. It was getting kind of old, having just jumped around the air arena. And the misty clouds below were piquing his curiosity. So, naturally, Nyxil decided to jump. The consequent the lake of lava was giving off too much glow to allow him to shadow-travel, but it was a situation he encountered before. All he needed to do was make a shadow by letting go of something. Regrettably, though, he kind of blanked out and sacrificed something that was actually important. His cloak-armor met its demise and descended to the Underworld for Crappy Armor as he shadow-traveled back to the floating island. "Well," Nyxil thinks as he explores the temple looking for a statue to Ares to beat the crap out of for destroying his prized crappy wire-cloak, "F*ck you too." His longsword makes short work of the war god's marble profile. He loads the poisoned mortal-steel crossbow slung from his shoulder for a moment, then sits atop the newly desecrated statue, sharpening his chakrams and parrying knives. Bored and unimpressed with the dedication of his previous opponents, he opts not to bother with seeking this one out.