He opened his eyes just as a bright beam of light shone on his face. It was the break of dawn, when the sun was still peeking from the horizon. In the distance he saw several buildings, with a few people standing idle. Seeing it as a settlement of sorts, he decided to inquire as to where he was.

The journey around the lands was taking its toll on himself. His mind was still figuring out the pieces of memories he had with him, and his body seemed to be not his own. He could not recall how the garments he wore came to be his own clothing, and how the knives strapped on his sides were his. One clear mystery as to his equipment was the spear-like object, which he could not find anywhere else. It was red, with a single tip at one end and a curved blade at the other. The handle itself was of a sturdy material, though he had not been provided with the opportunity to test it. Through clear observation he could tell that his attire resembled that of a warrior, but without the bulky frame and huge form he could not be so sure if he was really a combat expert.

Telltales and rumors of an outdoor training arena reached his ears, where casual fighters and aspiring heroes would practice and spar. Seeing it as an opportunity for him to find out more about himself, he decided to check it out.

The size of the settlement astounded him, so many buildings and venues all placed for the eager fighter. Walking towards the benches he took a spot near the fighting circles, eager to witness the warriors that would spar. It was still too early in the day to witness any mock battles, but he chose to wait and see, making full use of the opportunity to see combat firsthand.

Ladislaus slowly proceeded into the arena in front of himself, thinking of his escapades on previous missions. Supposedly, this was where he would be able to practice some, which he was in dire need of since he had not recieved a single mission in over a month. His employment had recently grinded to a halt after an 'incident' in Lomedor, which involved some dire wolves and a butcher's shop. Needless to say, the repairs to the shop as well as resupplying all of the meat was not cheap. And it had affected his appeal with employers. Very few people wanted someone so clumsy on the job to work for them.

Turning his attention away from his 'glorious' memories, he focused back onto the arena before him. It was mainly comprised of some small wooden buildings as well as several fighting rings. He meandered over to the building nearest to him, and moxied inside.

Inside there was a small oak table, about a foot in diameter and three feet in height, as well as a desk and some other odds-and-ends that dotted the room. Behind the desk a man sat, looking through a book, which presumably was roster of the fights that had recently occured. The man was apparently to preoccupied with his book to notice Ladislaus, skimming through the musty pages of the tome.

Ladislaus approached the man, and, clearing his throat, inquired "Excuse me, is there anything specific I need to do before I fight?" The man lifted his face from the book, startled, "Ermmm... no. Just pick a ring and jump right in," quickly returning his attention back to his book.

"Alright, thank you," Ladislaus said appreciatively, but recieving no response, he started out the door. He observed the fights going on, letting out a slight chuckle as he saw a full-blown fist-fight between almost twenty people going on to his left. He wanted something that had some more... tactics to it.

After a few minutes of elimiting the rings he would not join in, he realized the only one he hadn't rejected was an empty one. Ahhhh... I'm sure if I start a fight there, others will join. I just need someone to start the brawl. And right as the thought went through his mind, he saw someone who looked somewhat skillful in combat. "Hey you!" Ladislaus yelled at the man, "I'm here to train a bit. You want to fight?"