Filled with anticipation, Jake went back inside and grabbed a bowl. Filling it with sand from the old man's garden, which he had borrowed (or stolen, rather), he carried it back to his garden and lit up his makeshift barbecue pit.
Once the temperature reached 200°F, he waited for the sand to heat up before plunging his hand into the heated sand.
Yooooooowwwwccchhhh!!!!!
Biting the cotton towel, he sniffled in pain as the old man, Edward, treated his very black fingers. "If you are going to practice new arts, make sure to start from the very beginning. You do realize that the saying 'every journey starts with a single step' had reasons for its existence, hmm?"
Chastising a very pained Jake, Edward was seen dipping cotton swabs into a herbal decoction. Its pungent smell filled the room, yet not in a bad way, for it unexpectedly also healed some of Jake's tiny scars.
Still wincing, Jake pouted before answering, "How was I supposed to know what I was doing wrong? Nobody had ever told me what to do." Sighing in exasperation, Edward admonished, "Next time, before starting any new art, consult someone knowledgeable or peruse some books before starting any art."
Head bowed down, Jake was left sullen. "Yes, 'father'." Edward simply rolled his eyes, creeped out by the sarcasm.
"Anyway, aren't you supposed to go to the Bloodfall Arena and register for that so-called cup?" Realizing that he had forgotten to inform her of his decision, Jake hastily ran to the taxi, hoping that he wasn't too late for the registration.
Reaching the reception, Jake kneeled over, panting heavily. The receptionist, a quaint female Dwarf, tiptoed over from the desk, visibly concerned.
""U-umm sir, a-are you okay? We can lead you to the infirmary, where you can rest."
"No need, I'm...*pant*... fine. Phew, let's get this over with." Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he headed towards the desk, where he confirmed with the officials that he would be participating in the cup.
Relaxed, Jake strolled around the atrium, sightseeing in the main reception. He hadn't roamed around the last time (too nervous and busy to look around).
Races and species of all kinds mingled with each other, communicating deeply all around. Though they had their differences, oddly enough, there weren't many squabbles occurring. Just as Jake wondered why, he saw a crowd gathering around a Wulfus and a young fae.
"Whatcha looking at, pretty face?"
"Back at ya, fur bottom." This seemed to anger the Wulfus, for he soon landed a blow on the Fae's face, resulting in them starting a brawl. Just as they were going to go all out, a burly Rakhshasha grabbed them both, knocking them both out.
As he carried them toward the detention area, his eyes landed on Jake. Seeing his scarred face looming over him, he grew uneasy. Just as he was about to ask the guard what he had done wrong, the guard simply warned him:
"Don't meddle in things you don't understand. Don't participate in the tournament."