[center][color=a187be][b][i]Annabeth Gulch[/i][/b][/color][/center]

Annabeth sighed as people went their separate ways, a few with negative feelings for eachother. It wasn’t hard for Annabeth to discern their feelings; Psychomancy is good at sussing out people’s hidden emotions, especially when they try to hide it. But being able to sense these things wasn’t the same as being able to do anything about it. A tough lesson Satori had to hammer into Annabeth’s head; as she improved her Empathic abilities, she’s grown more sensitive to people’s shifts in mood and their subtle and hidden feelings of doubt and insecurities. Of course she’d want to help, but too often she’d try to do something and just confuse the person who she was trying to help, or worse sour their mood when they figure out she’s been in their minds.

Letting people deal with their emotions and problems themselves, instead of trying to help or coddle them, wasn’t something Annabeth liked doing. But she had to. A bitter pill to swallow. Everyone was going their separate ways and Annabeth was debating if she should go see her family or follow some of the others. When she heard Athalus about looking for fights, Annabeth looked shocked, but then her eyes lit up. [color=a187be]”The grand melee!”[/color] Annabeth interjected between them.

[color=a187be]”Near the town square they hold the Grand Melee, where anyone who is willing and able to get into this big brawl! Prizes, money, prestige, a lot of young men and women participate! And not just you average thug either, often students and masters of the various martial schools will participate to represent, as well as soldiers and knights. It’s a test of physical skill and might so no magic, though sometimes they do have Wizard Duels too!”[/color] Annabeth looked pumped as she looked towards the town square. [color=a187be]”My teacher, who first taught me of swordsmanship, was a three year champion of the Grand Melee when he was younger. Though he doesn’t fight now, many of his students represent his school! I would’ve been one of them if I wasn’t so new. But now… Now I’m almost certain I can compete with them. I’m sure you guys can too!”[/color]

[center][b][i]Tyrael Marchosias[/i][/b][/center]

In the distance a shadow was watching Lyn as she walked into the crowds. A demon monitoring the precarious college student. Of course Tyrael had a hand in this; as the Demonomancy master teacher he had to make an appearance, as superficial as his involvement is. Unlike other teachers who bothered to foster positive relationships with Eania, Tyrael was rightly hated by most of the Eania ruling class and peasantry; before he was made officially a teacher he had often raided Eania lands for precious resources or simply hunting down enemies. Many saw his alliances and tenure with the college as him escaping his crimes. Nevermind the reasons behind his actions and who his exact victims were, since the truth didn’t fit Eania’s narrative. Still, Tyrael was known by many and if they knew that he actually had people precious to him they would target them.

Some would call him paranoia. Tyrael is fine with this; he’d rather be paranoid and wrong instead of cocky and wrong. The shadow followed Lyn from afar, keeping an eye on her as Tyrael stood defiantly in one of Eania’s temple to Billant. It was as much an act of defiance as it was of peace; the fact that a demon like him could stand safely in a building meant to be a sanctuary against his kind without any ill effects was certainly a slap in the face of those who put much faith in the gods. But at the same time, the fact he was here instead of sulking about in other parts of Eania brought peace of mind for those who feared his mecanations. At least if he was in this temple he could be watched and monitored. And indeed, there were guards from both the college and Eania at this temple, mainly to protect it’s clergy and followers, but also to ensure Tyrael wasn’t going to try to summon an army of demons to take over or start an orchestra. 

[center]Other[/center]
As the college students were entertaining themselves, there was much revelry to be had in Eania. As Annabeth mentioned there was a Grand Melee going on in the Town Square, with an entire half squared off to serve as the makeshift arena. Various matches were going on from free-for-all brawls, various one-on-one duels, to even knightley jousting. There was an admittance fee to cover the cost of equipment and medical treatment afterwards, even if the participant doesn’t need any healing or borrows any equipment. Of course when so many warriors gather, various merchants and performers also appeared. 

Bards and minstrels hyping up fighters and the crowd alike with their music, or hiring themselves out to personally sing praises and accomplishments. Plenty of merchants and smiths offering their goods or services to warriors in need of new equipment or repairs. Even a few who sold magical goods, and of course Lucilia’s own Caravan was here as well. The Scarlet Rose Caravan was selling healing potions and equipment like cool water in a drought. Potioned personally made by Lucilia, blades crafted by Tyrael, and armor forged by Val. Granted none of them were actually magical, but most people just assumed they were due to the college being their source.

Of course Eania wasn’t without it’s darker side. Though they like to boast a better quality of living than the likes of Djarkel, there’s no denying that Eania has a home for thieves, vagabonds, and miscreats as well. And during a time like this it was especially hard on them, as they are forced away from their usual places in the city to be corralled in the ghettos and alleyways like trash. After all, Eania wouldn’t want to besmirch such a festive occasion with crippled beggars and madmen panhandling for coppers. Though some at least use this opportunity to help these poor and downtrodden with various charity events, and it’s usually these men and women who have been hired to set up most of the festival booths and constructions, at least those of able body and steady minds.

But that doesn’t change that there was still thousands of these people forced out of sight. And despite being lower than the dirt on one’s shoes, the guards are all too familiar with them. Thus whenever one tries to sneak into the festival, they’re often watched by the guards closely. And if they try to beg or steal, quickly apprehended. Just to even enjoy walking around the streets they have to pose as street merchants selling flowers, old fruit, and colorful rocks. Typically children. Dressed in their best (i.e. they might have washed their clothes this week) they would go to various travelers and tourist in hopes of selling their trinkets and knick-knacks, or be very fortunate and get the sympathy of a particularly wealthy stranger.

As for how all of this related to the college, well that was fairly obvious to most: The college was a land of magic where the lowest of the low can rise to greatness. So when the college carriages arrived they would be quickly swarmed by various children trying to hawk “magical runes” and “unique plants”, generally trying to get sympathy and coins from the college students. And pickpockets if they don’t notice.