[center][h1][i][color=1a7b30]Ansgar Staudinger[/color][/i][/h1][/center]

The sun was bright overhead, a gloved hand lifted up to block away the needless light coming down from above. Ansgar Staudinger had been on the road since dawn, unlike some who had arrived days if not more before him, due to delays getting down here to Risha. Nothing he really felt like thinking much about, mostly turned down attempts at getting into Gladiatorial arenas elsewhere, by virtue of not being terribly interesting for arena combat, apparently. A massive warhammer to the torso, sending the rest of said body scattering should be downright fascinating, but apparently not. The trip here, beyond those turndowns, had been uneventful. Aiding blacksmiths in their forges, for the upcoming arena season at least, sleeping wherever he could, it was quite the difference compared to back home.

Not like there was much of a home left to go back to, Ansgar considered, but word was another open team was still available, even the day before the arena. He'd caught wind of it from some singing fool, not even intentionally mind you, but useful information was useful. Of course, finding out he would be turning around to head back out into the outside of Risha for the estate was, well, irritating. But he wasn't going to sweat that detail too much. He would be there in time, since there was still a good fair amount of time before the fighting would start properly. Hefting the warhammer on his shoulder, smiling to himself a bit at the familiar weight of the weapon, to shift its weight before starting out towards the manor. Well, he had to stop and ask questions along the way as to where the damn place was, but that was neither here nor there. Long as he was heading the right way, it was all good then.

Before long, Ansgar fond himself approaching the manor of choice, warhammer bouncing lightly on his shoulder with each step, approaching the guards idly, glancing at each of them before speaking. [color=1a7b30]"I am here for the arena team. I assume you will now escort me to your lord. And no, if your thinking about it, the hammer stays with me."[/color] His tone was blunt and to the point, gaze levelled towards the most important looking of the Guards and, therefor, likely the one in charge. Regardless of whether he was right or not, he would find himself being escorted into the manor itself. He didn't give the guards a second glance, knowing why they were there. Keep him from wandering off and causing trouble, considering strangers were being allowed entry into this manor. Before long, he would find himself escorted properly into what looked like a training arena. He seemed to not be the first one there, including others that had the looks of Tyreni themselves. Great, now to wonder whether those kinsman were friendly or not, he would hammer that problem down later.

For now, seeing the lord was busy speaking to the other applicants, Ansgar slugged the hammer off his shoulder, setting the weapon down towards the ground. It impacted with a solid, resounding thud, and the former blacksmith rested his hands on the end of the handle, giving the arena a once over. Besides the other Tyreni looking fellows, there was a slight woman eating food already. She had the look of a scoundrel, thankfully he had nothing of value in his pockets. Beyond her, the food looked lightweight, the training equipment easily broken, and otherwise failed to keep his attention. So he let his gaze linger on the lord and his advisor while he spoke, analyzing him like he was looking over a piece of equipment rather than another living being. The gaze would likely not be terribly settling, considering he was being analyzed very intently, almost like he was looking for any sort of weaknesses or mistakes in his creation.