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Another successful escape. Thessir certainly patted himself on the back for slipping out of sight from that one woman, metaphorically speaking. Now that he was no longer occupied he entered a tent and registered.

"May I ask what kind of arena are you expecting to fight in? Do you think it'll be a spacious one or not? What about any obstacles?" The friendly human registration woman approached the question of arena choice, something he'd not expected.

"Ooo, you mean we git a say in what arena we do combat in? Does our preferinces have sway? Is it truth?" Thessir was positively giddy with excitement. If it was true that what they preferred could influence the choice of arena setting for them then perhaps he might stand a chance yet. He wore a big grin, bouncing on the heels of his boots.

"Well firstly I'd love it if the arena had a roof. If the arena had nothing else a roof would be just fine. If you can I'd have no lights in there either! Or at least as few as possible. Will there be spectators? Also a small arena would be nice. Very small, very cramped, not a lot of space yes. Also, all the obstacles! Walls! Pillars! Narrow tunnels and traps too! If a section could be submerged in liquid that would be excellent. Really I'll take any obstacles, I love obstacles, well, non-glowing obstacles. Like I said, no lights. No fire stuff is preferred. The best arena would be narrow, cramped and immersed in darkness most pure! Is there any like that? I'm flexible, I would just like a dark arena, something dark with plenty of shadows and dark darkness. Rich inky blessed dark of the blackest caves! Mmmhmhmhmhm!"

He was getting excited just imagining an ideal arena for his battles ahead. He was humming and chuckling as he rocked back and forth, leaning onto the edge of the desk which came up to just a bit below his midsection. If even a margin of his preferences could be met he figured he might stand at least a small chance of making it ahead in the battles to come. It took considerable effort not to drool as he daydreamed of tenebrous passages that winded about, spangled in a maze where one could lose their sense of up and down like some sort of massive ant tunnel network. The dark called to him. It was safety.

It was home.

@PaulHaynek - Ah, thank you. I had been mistaken in assuming the registrations were solely in the north courtyard. Your iteration of events does skip over that mistake of mine nicely.

Standing by he simply witnessed the scene as it transpired. He was smiling but not a happy smile. Rather, it was a confused smile. His eyebrows were up with mild surprise as the lady quickly stole the stage out from under the meek tall fellow with thunder aplenty.

As quickly as she set her fury upon what was apparently her son she turned back to Thessir, apologetic and most certainly chatty. She bombarded the poor confused elf with many questions. It took him a moment to come out of the shock at which point he started into a confused chuckle. It was strange, like laughter framed in the form of a question but without any expectation of an answer as he followed off of it with a response.

"Ah, heheh, er, A good to meet you Miss Iona... Or is it Misses?" He looked up, folding one arm under his elbow while he tapped his chin in
deep thought.

"It escapes me." The classic phrase of his people which represents the speaker's acceptance that fate has taken matters out of their hands, translated from his native tongue. He simply shrugged and continued on.

"I am Thessir. I do not come from here."

He hadn't much more to say than that. He just sort of looked about, feeling kind of put on the spot at the moment. He had no clue who this Varjan fellow was but hopefully his mother hadn't turned him into the centerpiece of another scene. Standing quite still he scratched the back of his head in uncertainty, smiling nervously.

Luckily for him in the distance some guy had leapt from one of the tents, running and screaming obscenities.
Oh good! This might be a suitable distraction. The thought crossed his mind. Eyes shiftily darting left and right to see if anyone was paying any real attention to him he started discretely shuffling towards the shadow cast by a tent standing diagonally from him. It was relatively close by but not close enough for him to slip in without an obvious dash so for now he was taking it slow so he didn't draw any unwanted attention with any sudden or obvious movements.

I should have a post up by this evening. Been a tad busy but I'll be more readily able to work on posts for the near future.

Edit: Post is up.

"Apologies, I expected most here to be speaking the local tongue, you know."

"I just got here." He retorted with annoyance as he caught a statue man's weapon and crushed it's head with a back-elbow strike. Taking the weapon out of it's hand he used it to stop a crude blade before kicking a statue square in it's stone chest, sending it tumbling back into a heap of it's friends.

"Okay okay, listen to me, everyone! I am...uh...Klara! Klara Grimmolfdottir! And I am here to help!"

He really didn't care about what she was going on about.

"These are no mere Oni statues! These are statues possessed by the souls and disembodied ki of dead Oni warriors. We are not sure who or what is responsible, but we do know that these souls can keep possessing new stone bodies and coming back indefinitely until the culprit behind this resurrection is put down!"

Al halted briefly, considering her words with a brow furrowed in thought.

Oni... Is that the Japanese word for statue dude? He wondered, briefly stirred from thought by a light bo-staff strike to the head. He spun around and crushed the Oni's leg with a sweeping cut kick. As for the rest of what she said it was pretty much nothing that wasn't readily obvious already.

"Help is on the way, but we need to hold firm and defend! As long as we are still fighting, the Oni will come for us and not the civilians! We stand our ground, and maybe whoever is behind this will show their face!"

"Fight more, got it." He replied tersely. His head turned as he heard some kid yelling in Japanese real close by. Well crap, he couldn't just leave these guys to rot now. After all, the center was rather light with activity by comparison to the rest of the arena. It was about time he got back into the thick of things.

With a great leap with his powerful legs he jumped high and smashed down into an oni with a diving kick, crushing it's shoulder and sending it careening into the other one beside it. With the last oni standing unable to disengage with the kid with the big red sword he grabbed it by it's right arm and swung it over his head, letting go at the end of his arc and sending it flying into the two oni pileup he started. With a crash of stone upon stone the middle oni was smashed between the two. Bringing his foot up he stomped down, finishing the last two off by driving his foot through them.

He looked over at the battle-weary young guy and the girl he stood over. The guy was a pretty standard looking japanese fellow clad in the typical nomad chic. The girl was a pretty cute white girl dressed up in fairly basic street clothes, a sensible choice of apparel. She certainly stood out in the crowd of weirdos in various combat costumes.

"Hey!" He gave a short shout to get the guy's attention although it was likely he had it already. He pointed to the prone girl and then up to the cluster of Maverik soldiers shooting at onis. He sure hoped that brief motion indicated Take her up to those guys so she's safe because there was no way he was going to be able to convey something like that in Japanese.

With that he stepped in, catching an oni's club before it could reach the Japanese guy's face. Grabbing the oni by it's arm he turned and with a mild grunt he flung the statue right at the base of the small mountain of oni bodies piled up in the center of the arena. He was going to see to it these two made it safely while grabbing anyone who was still alive along the way so he could bring them back to the Maverik line of defense. it was the least he could do in a situation like this.

The registration was an annoying process but sadly necessary. He did not know where the actual tournament would take place but he hoped it would at least be indoors. It was too much to hope it would take place at night so he'd take what he could get.

As he dwelt upon the upcoming tournament, a long curved dagger in hand as he whittled away at the end of his dowel, a simple human strolled on up to him before stopping.

"Ah, excuse me sir. I need to get into the tent." The man requested, unwittingly looming well over Thessir's small frame as their eyes met.

"Ahhh... My apologies." He bowed his head, his hat blocking sight of his face completely. With a simple step to the side he moved out of the shadow the taller man was casting. Despite the pleasant shade this stranger was casting he had to register along with all the others who dared to brave the rigors of the tournament and he was not one to stop this fellow from proceeding on through.

"Do not lit one such as I impede you. I myself no longer have need of these tents... Or so I'm told." He chuckled in a strange manner, both ominous yet somewhat loopy, as he stripped yet another long sliver of wood from the end of his pole. With any luck before the fights begin he'd have his makeshift spear ready. Until then it was strip after strip after strip, cutting away the flesh of the branch until it accepts the desired shape being imposed upon it.

He could see how the other students reacted to him. He didn't care but it was curious nonetheless. It was an interesting mystery just what he had up his sleeve but he wasn't about to change the tune he whittled to at the whim of some crowd favorite's passing by.

"Remember to dot your T's and cross your I's. The human kingdoms show fondniss for parchmints of dubious necessity." He added, slowly whittling away at his wooden rod all the while. After it seemed he had finished speaking he gave a low and somewhat discordant chuckle, giggles which sometimes spiked in pitch without warning.

No matter whether or not it made sense to them he certainly found his points amusing.


Submerged in black waters he thrashed. The light was too far to see and all that surrounded him was the cold grip of the pool starting to pull him underneath. As he felt the current start to jostle his flailing form he recalled watching the bowl floating away, the sickly yellow paste inside dissipating into the stream. He couldn't breath. He was moving but he was too cold to struggle. The nothing he could see was joined by the darkness behind his eyelids as he lost consciousness.

It was evening. The sun was just starting to touch against the horizon. The beams of light were cast through the clear windows below, faint particles of dust caught in the illumination. Up above, in the dark shadows of the rafters slept the diminutive young elf. With his head rest against the wall while he slept atop the roof beam he had his hat set over his face to block out any stray light to save from discomfort.

"Omigosh! I can't wait to see who shows up at the tournament!" One overly cheery voice from below remarked in what was clearly not their indoor voice.

"I hope plenty of cuties sign up this year!" The girl's accompanying friend added, speaking with an annoyingly shrill and squeaky voice.

Thessir stirred, rudely roused from his slumber by the two empty-headed girls passing under, gossiping about the upcoming tournament. He never cared for sleep, not with the dreams such rest brought however waking was never pleasant either, especially when it was still daytime.

"Tournamint this, tournamint that." He muttered in irritation, largely to himself. Pushing himself up he sat his hat back upon his crown and stretched, yawning deeply as he did. Grabbing hold of the side of the beam he lowered himself a bit before letting go and landing on the floor below with deft grace.

"Weire it not for the lightniss in my pouch and the locks to the library I'd say nay but here I am no liss, off to sign up in the hopes of moving forward." He rambled on, talking to himself until he caught notice of someone staring from the corner of his eye. A flower beast-kin half submerged in the garden soil was looking out from under her petals at him questioningly. After all, talking to one's self was not normal behavior, at least not in Zauberheim. Seeing her staring back at him he grumbled and turned away, cutting through the garden on his way out of the academy.

He had made his way to the market where he purchased a wooden dowel for a measly few coins. While of little use for him now after some work he saw potential in it as a weapon. Perhaps not a fine weapon of elegant make but a weapon no less.

Heading into the northern courtyards of the academy he found himself enjoying the experience less and less. Bustling crowds of people filled the streets, most of them a fair bit taller than him making it quite hard to navigate. Even from underneath the brim of his hat the sunlight made the world far too bright, hurting his sensitive eyes as he looked around. Keeping to the walls and trekking through shade whenever possible he eventually made it to the pavilion where numerous purple registration tents were set and ready to recieve applicants.

With his hat low he kept a low profile and continue towards one of the tents chosen largely at random. There were people that knew him but none he'd really describe as friends. He was a strange sort and strangeness often brought a sense of alienation with it. Affiliated with neither elf nor beast nor man despite his racial heritage he stood out from the accepted and the welcome. It wasn't so much discrimination as it was isolation. No one had much to do with him or his kind and he even less so.

So he had no real friends to speak of, which was fine in his opinion. In the wake of his failure solitude has clung to him like the scent of sea water no matter how many people surrounded him. They did not know, he did not need for them to know.

He was Thessir, he was not from here. That's all he'd ever share.
@PaulHaynek - Excellent. And yes, Leomund is no more.
@PaulHaynek - Here's my replacement character, Thessir. I decided to go with something a little different from the shadow hand model which is hopefully acceptable. It's a useful alteration spell but it comes with some strong drawbacks which hold it back from being too strong. Hopefully he's a bit more palatable than my last two.

@PaulHaynek - Alright then. I have two choices for alternatives.

1: I swap Gang out for a fellow student who uses alchemy to enhance himself at a severe cost.


2: I scrap them both and replace Leomund with a student that's a rogue elf who uses darkness magic to conjure shadowy hands that can grapple opponents and wield weapons.

Which sounds better?

Edit: Actually, I'll just go with the second choice myself. I like the idea better and it's easier to work with being a single character.
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