The fight had been intense, but eventually they'd run out of time. His opponent had won. He had lost.

Daniel sat in his room, contemplating his defeat. Metz and he had been evenly matched up until the constraints of time had given the victory to the former. He never did understand what constituted a "victory" in things like this anyway. Spending his time sparring with (and constantly losing to) Skallagrim sure had improved his fighting capabilities, but here he had much to learn. But still, it felt like the skeleton had called all of them here for something bigger than just some lousy tournament. It didn't add up. One of the most powerful beings in the multiverse didn't [b]just[/b] organise a fighting competition for no good reason unless he had something to gain from it.

Or something to lose.

Restless and uneasy, he stood.

Something was up, and he knew the person to ask.

As he opened the door to his room to leave, he caught sight of several of the other random beings that had shown up to watch fleeing away from the Great Hall. The wolf quickened his pace and near ran into the hall, catching a glimpse of a pale, glowing female figure vanishing into the crown astride a spectral steed. Scowling, he strode forward, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword-staff as he fixed his gaze on his old friend and spoke.

[color=lightblue]"Skall! What's going on? Why're all these poor folk running away? Or, rather, what are they running [b]from[/b]?"[/color]