The falchion's investigation:
Of her remaining belongings, there is her lunch box, and an unchecked locker. Looking through her lunch box, you find wrappers of eaten food and other trash left over from her last meal. Among the trash is a crumpled piece of note book paper and a key to her locker. Unfolding it, it looks like it used to be notes from a class, but there are doodles all over it, all of them the same: poorly drawn stick figures, drawn at first as an idea, then as a frantic obsession. On the back, they are even more so, with more detail added to each harried stick figure. In the middle, there is a robed stick figure with a curved thing in it's hand, what you make out to be a poorly drawn falchion.
Looking through her belongings in her locker (I assumed you'd investigate it once you recognized the design of the key) you discover that this obsession had grown, seeing pictures not of a stick figure, but a bloody women dressed in grey with an eye patch, aswell as what appears to be a terrible oily darkness beneath it, wisps and tentacles of shadow reaching out from under it. She has a great falchion at her side and above her you see 2 balls of darkness similar to what must be under her eye patch. Her Falchion is big enough to have to be held with two hands. She has a ghostly aura about her, existing in both the material and astral planes at the same time. In thick letters beneath and around the most detailed picture (the one described above) you see "Dao." But not just in one language, but in hundreds making a circular pattern around the center figure. On the back, you see the last dregs of her sanity put to paper, describing her last moments "...She's in my dreams, my thoughts, everywhere. In my dreams, she's some pirate sailing a chinese galleon, a trail of blood in her ships wake as she travels the world. She whispers to me, constantly, promising power, skill, that she only wants to help me. Why me? I see her killing my friends and family, all for what? I've had moments recently where I would black out, and find myself somewhere completely different. I think she's in my head, controlling me. What should I do? There must me someone who can help me.." The e's tail stretches to the far side of the page, where pressure must've caused the pencil to break. You each hear a ghostly shriek in the back of your heads, bringing up images of what transpired at the tournament. Just as soon as they apear, they are gone and the pictures spark and burnwith a cold blue flame, flashing into ash instantly.