Jake had barely sat down to enjoy a good show when some clown decided he needed to hog the spotlight. For some reason, though, he seemed to take out his issues on the audience - or a part thereof - rather than the combatants. Either he had a grudge and a petty enough disposition to choose an inappropriate time to take it out, or he's got something more nefarious in mind. Better go check what the hell he's up to.
He wolfed down the turkey leg he bought from the concession stand earlier, then rushed in the direction of the battle, swiftly and nimbly making his way through the hordes of panicked audiences.
However, as he approached, he realized that the winds were picking up rather drastically - something that clearly was too centralized to be a normal phenomenon. Was this psycho causing it? Better double-check. He grit his teeth and braved his way forwards.
He found a group of people trying to defend themselves against the attacker. Among them, he recognized Ascot, and a few of the others from last night.
"Hi there! he talked about the howling of the wind. "Need some more help?
"So who's this crazy bastard who decided to ruin a perfectly good tournament?!"