This is dedicated to all those who, on the eve of the session, with a pile of unfinished tasks and under the Damoclean sword of getting a failing grade, are still heroically trying to finish this, frankly, not easy tournament:

***

To all those who hid cheat sheets, spellbooks, and immortality potions
In different places,
Hoping to break through and become a Necromancer,
An unknown fear torments them...

What if, soon, while receiving the grade,
He pulls the wrong ticket -
In the heat of enjoyment from such "luck"
A cheerful Skeled suddenly appears...

And to our Necromancer, who, despite having all the notes,
Can't copy the dispel spell,
He walks crookedly, claps his paw
And asks: "Hello! How are you?"

***

The authorship is not mine, but this simple lyrical digression is very appropriate right now. I hope this not-so-childish poem will help all the heroes find the strength to successfully complete the tournament against the backdrop of all other universal problems! And we will discuss everything later! :)