Post by Mongo the Destroyer on Oct 29, 2020 20:50:59 GMT -6
If you want to see if real prettylike go to this link drive.google.com/file/d/0B-8YUmKSXvLBV2dIMUMtQVVCOFk/view?usp=sharing
That's the PDF version of the show and is downloadable. Shows even come with mp3 files built into the pdf for a more immersive viewing.
Exile
Held in the capital city of the Vesperian Empire, Vesper, at a location used for different sporting events. A new wrestling event is to be held for people who mainly knew such things as Jousts and Duels, amongst other sporting events from our Middle Ages. It will be a change of pace for the Vesperians to see such an event, as well for those formerly of the ASA and Earth who would be attending a sporting event without the doom and gloom of war hanging over their heads. Still, it is not "home" and so, we begin our Exile.
Opening
Wilson: "We will be opening tonight's program with an opening prayer by the Grand High Priest of Kyjun, Ezzio Nizzola!"
An impossibly old man walks out from the back. He has shoulder length hair of pure white color though he is bald on the top of the head. His white skin is wrinkled and spotted with his face seeming to be sliding off of his face with a sad expression. He wears silken robes resplendent with silver and blue decor. He slowly walks to the ring while leaning on a eight foot tall ornate wooden staff painted silver and blue with a silver eagle at the top holding a light blue sapphire the size of an ostrich egg.
Sanchez: "How old is Ezzio Nizzola?"
Silverfield: "If one would believe what is said, he is several hundred years old because of the blessings of Kyjun so that he may carry on the work of the God of Vesperia. He's sort of similar to the Pope of your Catholic Church."
Sanchez: "But I thought that Kyjun was really dead and could no longer give such blessings? If that's so, then how is-"
Silverfield: "There are a thousand different answers to that mystery, but nothing has ever been proven."
Ring attendants help Ezzio Nizzola up the stairs and into the ring. He is handed an amber gem stone that is flat on one side. It begins to glow gold as he presses it to his throat, and his voice becomes magnified so that everyone in the brand new arena can hear.
Nizzola: "Welcome everyone! Welcome to the opening show of the Glorious Wrestling Guild. It is called Exile for the people of Earth whom we have welcomed into our lands!"
"But before we get into the grand spectacle that is a mixture of the sporting events of the ones we know and that which the people of Earth call professional wrestling, I would like to call for a prayer."
Everyone in the arena silently stand up and bow their heads, even those who hail from Earth do so as well, and bow their heads.
"Kyjun, God of Goodness, Father of Vesperia, we ask for your blessings over this event! Keep our warriors safe as they entertain the people across our world and hone their skills for the tests to come."
"It is true, we know, that you have given your life long ago while defending your children from the vile Eternals of the Xamillian Empire. It's true that the power that you have granted your followers before the birth of Vesperia can no longer be granted, but you still live on!"
"So long as a single person remains who will carry the Vesperian flag that represents the unity of our peoples. Vesperians, Renallians, Harador, and now Earth...ians, the spirit of your teachings will remain with us all! It had carried us through the dark times when Xamillia attempted to cover all of the world and beyond with their darkness. Your teachings will continue to grant us strength so that one day we may cleanse the world of all of the Eternals and free the peoples of the North who have spent too many long years under the brutal rule of the bastards who had even betrayed their own God to rob divine power. Your teachings have and always will keep us on the path of righteousness!"
"We know oh Lord Kyjun that you watch over us from beyond the grave in the afterlife where we who have proven ourselves worthy may join you. We in turn shall ever endeavor to prove ourselves worthy of joining you. In your name we pray. Amen."
Everyone silently take their seats as ring attendants help Ezzio Nizzola out of the ring and to the back.
Silverfield: "He is a wise man and the teachings of Kyjun are nice to hear, but I would put my real weight to the blessings and teachings of Medmos in this spectacle. This is a series of martial contests and in such, there is no better than the God of Military Might, Medmos. I think that he will be one of the gods that we will need to look to so that we can find the strength to destroy Xamillia and free the races enslaved to the North."
Sanchez: "I'm afraid I have not fully read up on gods other than Kyjun quite yet."
Silverfield: "You will in time. Other arenas throughout Vesperia are nearly finished and I have heard that a few arenas are being built in allied nations beyond our borders. We will get the chance to tour and you'll know far more about the world that fate has forced you to call home."
Sanchez: "It's an exciting and yet bittersweet time for us, Connor. Exciting because we will see more of this world. Bittersweet because we know that our world is likely...dead or close to it."
Silverfield: "Where there is life, there is hope. I'm sure there are yet brave heroes behind on Earth to ensure that not all is lost."
Sanchez: "And I hold onto that hope nightly."
Zadian vs Frietag
Wilson: "Our first wrestling contest of the night is scheduled for one fall! Featuring the challenger, weighing in at three hundred and twenty pounds...Samuel Zadian!"
Samuel Zadian walks out from the back to the cheering of the crowd. He looks a bit put out from the lack of entrance music, but shakes it off to head down to the ring.
Sanchez: "So, I know it isn't like we have a stock of entrance music anymore like we did on Earth, but I thought that we had something of an orchestra to supply something?"
Silverfield: "I think we're still working out the details to write up people new music to come down to the ring to."
Wilson: "And his opponent, weighing in at three hundred pounds...Frietag!"
Tony Manzell walks out from the back with a wide smile, motioning to the ring entrance until Frietag comes out to the cheers of the fans. They walk down to the ring, Tony Manzell opening the ropes for his client as to let him into the ring. Frietag gets into the ring, stretching out to get ready for the match. Tony Manzell points at Samuel Madison with a laugh.
Manzell: "You're going down, boyo! This is the first pro wrestling match of Glorious Wrestling Guild and you're gonna look like a big ole bitch while getting your ass kicked!"
Samuel Zadian shakes his head, looking to Frietag, who just shrugs with a smile.
Sanchez: "Tony Manzell is pretty arrogant going into this."
Silverfield: "He has been training Frietag pretty hard during this last year. It isn't like they've had much else to do. If Manzell imparted even a small part of his skills onto Frietag, then this will be a great match. Tony Manzell beat everyone put in front of him during his time with the Imperial Wrestling Alliance on Earth."
Sanchez: "This is true. Let's see what happens with the first pro wrestling match of the Glorious Wrestling Guild!"
As the bell rings, Frietag and Samuel Madison meet in the middle of the ring to exchange punches. They continue like boxers for a few minutes until Samuel staggers backwards, bleeding from a cut under the left eye. Frietag grabs Samuel, bringing him down with a hip toss, and driving a knee under Samuel's chin. He keeps the knee pressed in while slamming a fist into Samuel's gut over and over again.
Sanchez: "The opening minutes and Frietag isn't letting up."
Silverfield: "Manzell did say that Frietag was going to kick Zadian's ass."
The ref forces Frietag to get off of Zadian when he notices that the knee has become a choke hold. Samuel Zadian rolls away, holding his throat, and trying to catch back his air. Frietag stalks around Samuel, cracking his knuckles with menace.
Samuel gets back up with a curse, wiping blood from his face. He lunges at Frietag, but is caught up for a bodyslam. Samuel sits right back up, but Frietag kicks him in the face to send him back down to the mat. Frietag continues stomping Samuel in the face and chest until Samuel grabs Frietag's foot to twist it and bring Frietag down to the mat.
Frietag gets back up into a seated position, but Samuel lunges up to smash Frietag across the jaw with an elbow. Samuel rises up, catching Frietag with a front face lock, and bringing him back down to the mat with a ddt. He pushes Frietag over, applying a rear naked choke.
Sanchez: "Samuel Zadian isn't going to just roll over and play dead in this match."
Silverfield: "I would hope not. It would make for a poor opening match if he did."
Frietag grabs the ropes so that the ref would break the hold for him. Before Samuel can get far away, Frietag is up. He grabs Samuel as if for a neckbreaker, bringing him over his shoulder, and then dropping down to drive Samuel's head into the mat. He goes for the cover.
One...Two...Samuel kicks out!
Frietag kneels up, back handing Samuel as he tries to roll away. Frietag gets up, pulling Samuel to his feet, and into an irish whip. Samuel ducks a clothesline on the rebound, keeps going, and comes back to leap into the air for a Superman Punch!
Frietag ducks under the fist, leaping up into the air to catch Samuel with a mid-air spear that he twists around to bring down Samuel with a power bomb!
Sanchez: "What the heck? What an impact from that move!"
Silverfield: "Frietag going for the pinfall here and this may be it!"
One...Two...Three!
The ref raises Frietag's hand in the air as Tony Manzell rolls into the ring to help his client celebrate.
Sanchez: "The opening match of Glorious Wrestling Guild and Frietag has won!"
Silverfield: "It'll be some good momentum going in for Frietag."
JOUST! HOLY ORDER OF THE SWORD OF KYJUN (PALADIN ORDER) VS THE BROTHERHOOD OF MEDMOS (KNIGHTLY ORDER)
Wilson: "Now, if you would direct your attention to the screens overhead. They are the flat surfaces overhead that you can see to the outside for those unused to the...erm...magic."
Four giant screens come to life to show the a side chamber in the building that has solid ground instead of stone floor. Two horses stand across from each other with a group around each one and armored people getting mounted on the horse.
Sanchez: "I see that a lot of people have left. It seems that some dual tickets were sold for the seating to the side arena so that people could go back and forth from here to there to watch the action live instead of on screens."
Silverfield: "It's a luxury option. A lot of those tickets were bought by the guilds, the churches, and the different warrior orders to give to their people."
Wilson: "The challenger in the bright armor with the shield bearing the symbol of a sword. He is from the Holy Order of the Sword of Kyjun and is one of the top ranked paladins...Gottold Skell the Fourth!"
Gotthold raises his lance into the air to the cheers of the fans while his shield is being strapped to his other arm.
Wilson: "And his opponent in the dark iron armor with the shield bearing the severed head of an orc. He is from the Brotherhood of Medmos, a veteran knight of nearly a score campaigns at the Wall...Ortwin Ringstorff!"
Ortwin raises the shield strapped to his arm, getting even more cheers from the crowd.
Sanchez: "Now Kyjun is the God of Goodness that is the basis of the state religion, even though Kyjun himself is dead. Medmos is a War God, known as the God of the Military. He was worshiped by the Harador before the rise of the Vesperian Empire and is considered a Barbaric God. Right?"
Silverfield: "That would be correct."
Sanchez: "Then why was Lord Ringstorff cheered for more than Lord Skell?"
Silverfield: "This is something of a war of generation. The older generations feel that the teachings of Kyjun are to be held above everything else. The younger generations feel that a more practical outlook is needed. This includes the worship of living gods such as Medmos, God of the Military, Eton, the Dwarven Battle God, Qildir, the God of Craftsmanship and Trade, Deheia, the Elvish Sea Goddess, or a number of lesser known deities. Lesser known to many Vesperians anyway. It is thought that if we do not hold Kyjun's Truth to be the only truth, then we will allow a moral rot to take hold of our empire and bring it into ruin."
Sanchez: "Do you believe that to be true?"
Silverfield: "No. I think that Kyjun's teachings are fine to remember, but we should pray to gods that can hear us and respond to our prayers."
Sanchez: "Why isn't the Brotherhood of Medmos an order of paladins?"
Silverfield: "They battle in his name, but have refused the trappings of the paladin. They feel that Medmos should not have to grant supernatural abilities, but simply watch as they battle in his name. A harsh and pragmatic group that is mainly Vesperians who have served their time on the Wall and have become to be considered brothers to the Harador by engaging in their rituals to become Harador adults."
Sanchez: "What is-"
Silverfield: "Another time! The joust is about to begin!"
Gottold Skell the Fourth and Ortwin Ringstorff set their lances and shields into place. The crowd begins to cheer wildly as the two begin barreling at each other at top speed.
Sanchez: "Is this like chicken?"
Silverfield: "No, roast chicken is being sold at the stands. This is a joust!"
Sanchez: "I didn't mean. Oh my!"
The two meet in the middle of the way, lances clashing against shields and glancing off. The momentum of the knight and the paladin take them to the opposite sides of the field where they begin turning their horses around for another pass.
Silverfield: "The first to knock the other from the horse with the lance wins."
Sanchez: "What if they knock each other off?"
Silverfield: "Then they draw swords and fight to the yield."
The two warriors get their horses straightened and begin another charge. This time when they meet in the middle, Ringstorff's lance shatters while Skell's shield snaps. The momentum of the horses carries them back to the original positions while nothing of their footsteps can be heard over the roar of the crowd.
Sanchez: "What's Lord Ortwin Ringstorff going to do without a lance? He'll be beaten for sure!"
Silverfield: "Watch. This next pass will determine if Lord Ringstorff loses or if the contest will continue."
Once the two warriors get turned around, Ortwin Ringstorff begins adjusting himself on his horse. Once the charge begins, he quickly rises up while holding the reins until he's standing on the saddle.
Ortwin slaps aside the lance with his shield, knocking the shield from his arm, dives at Gottold Skell the Fourth, and tackling him off of the horse to the ground.
The two men rise up to their feet and draw their swords.
Ringstorff: "Accept that the ways of Kyjun are in the past! Embrace the future! Military might will destroy evil!"
Skell: "The teachings of Kyjun remain true to this day! The foundation of this very empire cannot be wrong!"
The two attack each other with all of their might, blades sending out a shower of sparks as they clash.
Silverfield: "Tradition dictates that jousters use wooden lances and dulled swords. Somehow, I don't think this is the case tonight. The bad blood between the Holy Order of the Sword of Kyjun and the Brotherhood of Medmos runs deep."
Sanchez: "So, someone could die tonight?"
Silverfield: "That's a very real possibility."
Gottold Skell strikes a blow along the side of Ortwin Ringstorff. It doesn't sink in deep, but draws blood. Ortwin brings his own sword down upon the right shoulder. His blow doesn't draw blood, but crushes the shoulder pauldron in.
The two back away from each other. Ortwin holds his side, blood running through his armored fingers. Gotthold sticks his sword point into the ground, rips the pauldron away, revealing the chain mail underneath. He casts it away with a curse before taking up his sword again.
Skell: "Ours is divine birthright from Kyjun himself! You disrespect his memory through the worship of another god! A traitor to your own race!"
Ringstorff: "You're an idiot! Kyjun would not want us continuing to worship him after his death! It's insanity to do more than to use his lessons as guide and embrace living gods with ideals that can grow and change!"
Silverfield: "It's worth knowing that the Holy Order of the Sword of Kyjun is one of the most obstinate, zealous groups in all of Vesperia. The Brotherhood of Medmos gains in popularity because they worship Medmos and frame his ideals with those of Kyjun to create a new whole."
Sanchez: "I see. We had all kinds of extremists back on Earth. If someone believed in something, there was always someone willing to commit violence for it."
The two come at each other again, the clashing of blades increasingly violent with neither willing to give even an inch of ground.
With a roar, Gotthold Skell snaps Ortwin Ringstorff's sword, slashing him from shoulder to hip. The armor takes the brunt of the attack, but it draws blood all the same. Ortwin staggers backwards, dropping his hilt to the ground.
Skell: "Surrender or there will be one less race traitor to populate this land!"
Ringstorff: "Kyjun and Medmos share a teaching. They say never surrender to the enemy!"
Ortwin reaches to his back where a sword sits in an oversized scabbard. He draws it with a wince and a shower of sparks. It would be a normal sword, save for the hooks all along the blade that curve down and are sharpened on the inside.
Sanchez: "What in the world is that?"
Silverfield: "A Harador forged blade. It's meant to kill. The hooks catch on flesh and rip it apart. It's also good in the hands of a skilled warrior to disarm your enemy before spreading his guts across the battlefield. Gotthold threatened to kill him. A Harador doesn't threaten to kill, he just does. Ortwin is Vesperian yes, but he is Harador in spirit."
Gotthold sneers at Ortwin, readying for another attack.
Skell: "Barbarian weapons won't help you live the night! Submit and go back to the Wall to lick your wounds!"
Ortwin doesn't respond, wiping blood from his chest across the flat of his sword.
The two clash again, but it begins to become clear that Ortwin has changed his fighting style. He disarms Gotthold, sending the paladin's sword into the air. His next swing catches Gotthold in the side, the deadly hooks catching a seam. The leather straps holding the chest plate on that side rip, and Ortwin opens Gotthold's armor up with the bottom of his blade. Near the top of his sword catches chain mail and leather, ripping through it all to tear open the meat inside.
Ortwin finishes his brutal slash, tears his sword away, and backs up. Gotthold stands in shock, his chest plate only holding on by a couple of straps, and his insides spilling through his fingers. He drops to his knees at the same time his sword slams into the ground point first.
Skell: "I...yield."
Ortwin watches grimly as Gotthold passes out from shock, healers running to their sides. Ortwin shakes them off, motioning to the downed paladin.
Ringstorff: "I will live. Help him first. He has no god to listen to his prayers."
Back in the ring, MaLisha Wilson watches at screen as if entranced at what happens when she remembers herself.
Wilson: "And the winner of this contest, Lord Ortwin Ringstorff of the Brotherhood of Medmos!"
The crowd cheer wildly, though the fans with the dual tickets begin making their way back to the main arena.
Sanchez: "And that's how a joust is normally done?"
Silverfield: "No. It is normally a bit less violent than that. These two orders just have the long standing grudge."
Sanchez: "That was just...brutal."
Silverfield: "More so than some of the wrestling matches you've seen in the past?"
Sanchez: "No, I suppose not."
AN EXHIBITION BY THE GUILD OF ELEMENTAL SPIRITS
Wilson: "If you will address your attention once again to the magical screens above. Presenting from the Guild of Elemental Spirits, and I don't mean the very odd kinds from up North that you can drink, the beautiful Gisela Eminger!"
Twisting winds turn the ground in the side chamber that stirs up dirt which turns into fiery tornado then a water spout before settling into the form of a woman. Mist cloaks her dignity until a shimmering blue strapless dress comes into view that appears to be water. She is handed a amber gem stone to press to her throat.
Eminger: "Thank you for the gracious introduction! I am one of the highest ranked Elementalists of our order, having mastered each of the four elemental magics. Though that is not what I am here to present to you tonight."
A level plane of fire springs to life, hovering an inch over the ground. It stretches and grows around Gisela, until only a circle around her appears to not be made up of flame. The bottom edges of her dress bubble and steam, despite being mid thigh.
Gisela steps onto the plane of fire, the hole filling behind her. The fire transforms into a stone earth.
Eminger: "Once upon a time, we Vesperians were a selfish lot. We tilled the land and honed our fighting skills, always in communion with our god, Kyjun. Though he taught us the basic tenets that we know now back then, we stayed isolated from other groups. We wanted to remain alone and in peace. That was when the Eternals came. That's when Xamillia came to our door step. Kyjun fought for us, even as the enemy worked to enslave us all. Even as the enemy worked to burn down the Forest of Mist to the West of us. Kyjun showed us that we should fight for more than ourselves when he went forth to destroy the Eternals himself."
A hole forms along the plane, sinking down as if bottomless.
"As we know, Kyjun died to protect us. His death stripped us of the powers he had been granting us, but not of his teachings. Not of his Word. We unified with the Renallians and the Harador to free our land of the evil of Xamillia. His death took away with but one hand though. He gave with the other when his death tore open a hole in the world into another. We found gold, silver, minerals, gems, diamonds, and more wealth than could ever be imagined in the Elemental Plane of Earth. That's not all we found. We found links to other Elemental Planes from exploring the Elemental Plane of Earth. Fire, Water, and Air. The realms are full of dangerous creatures and spirits of unimaginable power. We deal with the spirits. Behold!"
The stone ground upon Gisela stands begins to crack and break apart as large moss covered stones rise up in the general humanoid shape. Small red glowing eyes peek out of a crack in the "head" of the creature. It rises up to stand nearly thirty feet tall to look around at the crowd.
Sanchez: "What in the heck is that? I think I remember Thamptis commanding something similar, but it was made of glass."
Silverfield: "You must be thinking golem. That was a glass golem. Glass animated by magic and forcing a spirit to inhabit the body, often an elemental. This is-"
Eminger: "An Earth Elemental. A spiritual being of the Pure Earth. Those of the Earth School of the Guild of Elemental Spirits can summon and command these creatures. Earth Elementals are used to help guide mining expeditions into the depths to help us find the best materials while angering as few native creatures as possible."
The Earth Elemental sinks back into the ground without a trace, leaving behind a small black coal.
Eminger: "The first Elemental Plane we discovered outside of the Elemental Plane of Earth, was Fire. It was a dangerous place for us to explore, but a very wonderful one."
A flame flickers to life on the coal, causing it to quickly glow orange as the flame begins to consume it. The flames quickly grow and expand out to nearly a dozen feet tall with two dark spots shadowing in the flames in what could be eyes.
Eminger: "We have helped the guilds for generations with the use of Fire Elementals in the forges to keep them lit and hot. Tiny fire elementals have been used in some locations for street lamps. You just have to keep them fed and happy for them to continue on their work."
Sanchez: "This sounds similar to slavery, Connor."
Silverfield: "The spirits are kept happy and well fed. There are intelligent elementals that want more, but we use the semi-intelligent that are fairly easy to appease. Like using domesticated animals."
Sanchez: "I see."
The flames die away as the Flame Elemental fades away, leaving a small divot in the stone. Waters fills the divot to form a small pool.
Eminger: "We had mastered the Elemental Planes of Earth and Fire. Can't get much more dangerous than that, right? Wrong. We discovered the Elemental Plane of Water. We could easily traverse the Planes of Earth and Fire with a few protection spells. The Elemental Plane of Water required a lot of swimming from one vast underwater bubble to another. We chartered vessels from an allied nation to the North, vessels that could journey through this region and protect ourselves from some of the creatures there that approached the scale of mountains."
The pool of water becomes a geyser, a stream of water in the air that forms a serpent-like head. It rises up, curling around Gisela, and hissing a watery tounge in her ear to make her giggle a bit.
Eminger: "When we began summoning Water Elementals, we wondered what could we do with their abilities to help our society? The answer came as cities grew and expanded. We needed to help bring fresh drinking water to places, help with irrigation for crops, and help with sanitation. The most brilliant use was when we used a combination of Earth Elementals to build corridors in front of the Wall and Water Elementals to flood the entire region ten miles North of the Wall to defeat an invading force from Xamillia. The water was nearly a hundred feet deep that day!"
Sanchez: "A hundred feet deep? Wow!"
Silverfield: "Legend has it that an entire tribe of orcs died on that day."
The water serpent dissolves away into nothing and Gisela reaches into a pouch. She tosses a handful of sparkling dust into the air and it begins swirling around her.
Eminger: "The last plane that we discovered was the Elemental Plane of Air. It is a wondrous world of islands of earth and stone floating through the air. We use Air Elementals to help sailing vessels speed their journeys when the wind is low, to help windmills go, and in a few cases bring a nice cool breeze to a hot day."
The sparkles fall to the ground and overhead a cloud begins to form.
Eminger: "That there are four different basic elemental types is true, but not so that there are only these four types. There are also paraelementals, quasielementals, omnimentals, and a variety of other odd elementals. This one is in the class of omnimental and is what we call a Tempest!"
The cloud quickly darkens into a storm cloud, growing larger and larger. Lightning cackles within it as fiery eyes and a mouth open up on it.
Eminger: "A Tempest is hard to control, even for the most skilled of Elementalists, but can help turn the tide of a battle with harsh wind, rain, lightning, and even stone hail."
The Tempest vanishes and the stone ground returns to normal. Gisela Eminger takes a bow to the cheering crowd.
Eminger: "Thank you! If you are interested in learning about Elemental Magic and the Summoning of these beautiful creatures, come to the Guild of Elemental Spirits, and you can be tested for magical potential. It's a long road to mastery, but it is worth it!"
Sanchez: "I wonder if any of my fellow Exiles will go get tested?"
Silverfield: "It's worth a shot. Most people begin learning a craft through apprenticeships at a young age, but I think exceptions will be made for those exiled here since they would have not had the chance before."
Sanchez: "Sounds good. I think a lot of my people have settled into different jobs and such. It isn't like we can do little else until we can find a way home. Being mostly of military background, a good number of people have entered military service. Some of those have made their way to the Wall to fight."
Silverfield: "I have never been to the Wall myself. I heard that it was a stunning sight."
Sanchez: "I heard an arena is being built in sight of the Wall. We may all get the chance to see it."
Silverfield: "So long as nothing gets past the Wall on that day, it will be great."
Sanchez: "I thought the Wall has always held."
Silverfield: "It has been overrun in places before. They're always driven back, but it has happened."
Sanchez: "Well, we should cross our fingers."
Triple Threat
Wilson: "This next match is a triple threat match for one fall! Featuring first, from Carador in the Duchy of Harador...Ragnar!"
Ragnar storms out from the back to the cheers of the fans, making his way to the ring. The intensity coming off of him makes the fans cheer even the louder.
Sanchez: "Now Ragnar used to be stationed on the Wall?"
Silverfield: "All Harador are stationed on the Wall at some point in their lives. All Harador go beyond the Wall at some point in their lives to kill enemies. Or rather, they do if they intend on being recognized as adults. A Harador that doesn't cross the Wall and bring back an enemy skull will always be considered a child."
Sanchez: "That sounds rather harsh."
Silverfield: "It is the military lifestyle for them."
Wilson: "Next up from Asgard...Hoskuld Lokison!"
Hoskuld Lokison walks out from the back to the cheering of the crowds. Celes pops out of the back alongside him.
Sanchez: "Hoskuld has been relaxing during his time here. I think I heard he had made a few new beers and other hard spirits for the locals to sample as far as making some coin here and there."
Silverfield: "A couple of the local guilds that deal with brewing have made some noise that Hoskuld selling his small batches to local bars has been cutting into their profits, but they can get over it. It isn't like Hoskuld makes that much."
Sanchez: "A gold coin not earned is still a gold coin not earned."
Wilson: "And the final opponent, from Russia on Earth...Boris Drago!"
Boris walks out from the back, though the crowd remains quiet as he walks to the ring with only a smattering of cheers. He steps into the ring, glaring at Hoskuld Lokison, and then nodding to Ragnar.
Sanchez: "Boris doesn't like Hoskuld a bit. Probably from the times that Hoskuld attempted to seduce Dasha."
Silverfield: "I didn't think Boris and Dasha had that kind of relationship for Boris to be so jealous."
Sanchez: "Boris wants to sometimes it seems."
As the bell rings, the three warriors begin circling the center of the ring while keeping an eye on each other.
Boris makes the first move, leveling Hoskuld with a single punch. He takes a few swings at Ragnar, but each shot is dodged. Ragnar hits Boris a few times in the gut before backing up out of the reach of the big Russian.
Boris starts walking toward Ragnar, who keeps backing up. Hoskuld grabs the ankle of Boris, but is stomped in the chest for his efforts. Ragnar uses the distraction to leap through the air to nail and elbow to the side of Boris's head, staggering him to the side, but not knocking him down.
Ragnar continues his assault, grabbing Boris by the left calf with both hands, and pulling the leg out from under Boris to bring him down to the mat.
Silverfield: "Ragnar has experience dealing with creatures that have the size and strength of Boris Drago. He might not have the wrestling skills that the other two have, but he is a born warrior."
Sanchez: "What creatures have the size and strength of Boris?"
Silverfield: "Other Harador, orcs, orges, and a few other creatures."
Hoskuld Lokison gets to his feet, laughing at Boris being down. That is until Ragnar clocks him across the jaw, sending him staggering back into the ropes.
Ragnar follows Hoskuld to the ropes, but is grabbed with a belly to belly suplex, and sent over the top rope. Boris gets to his feet and is met by Hoskuld with a right hand that doesn't faze the big guy.
Drago: "You won't get past me today."
Hoskuld ducks under a punch, slipping behind Boris. He turns around to with swinging his fist to nearly take the head off of...Dasha? Boris checks his swing, is grabbed, and brought down for a hot shot across the ropes.
Sanchez: "What the heck is going on? Where did Hoskuld go?"
Silverfield: "Magic."
Ragnar rolls back into the ring, frowning as Boris sits back up to look at Dasha in confusion.
Boris: "Why? What?"
Dasha: "Boris, you idiot! You try to hit me again and I will end you!"
Dasha just laughs as Ragnar jumps up to grab Boris from behind around the chin, places his knees in the small of Boris's back, and pulls backwards with all his might. Dasha shifts back into Hoskuld, punching Boris in the belly to send the air exploding from his lungs.
Sanchez: "Boris is falling!"
Silverfield: "Ragnar better move!"
Ragnar gets out of the way as Boris falls onto his back. He doesn't get to continue his attack because Hoskuld takes him down with a spear, going for the cover.
One...Two...Thr-Ragnar kicks out!
Sanchez: "Ragnar almost forgot he was supposed to kick out there."
Silverfield: "That would not have been a good reminder of the rules for him."
Hoskuld rolls Ragnar over, starting to apply a Boston Crab, when Boris plucks him from the Harador's back, and tosses him from the ring with a growl.
Ragnar rolls over as Boris reaches for him, kicking him square in the face.
Sanchez: "I bet Ragnar's wishing that he had an axe right about now."
Silverfield: "This fight would have been quickly ended."
Ragnar tries for another kick, but Boris grabs him by the foot, swings him, and sends him flying through the air to land on Hoskuld outside of the ring. Both of them smash into the ring railing, hitting the ground. Boris walks over to the ropes, leaning down to leer at the two.
Drago: "Come fight Boris. No lay around!"
Ragnar and Hoskuld both get to their feet as Boris eggs them on. They circle around the ring in different directions, rolling inside. Boris meets Hoskuld, choke slamming him to the mat. Boris turns around to be met by Ragnar by a knee to the gut that hits hard enough to double Boris over.
Ragnar looks at the doubled over Boris for a moment with a frown as if deciding what to do before jumping up to bring his knee into the back of Boris's neck to drive him face first into the mat. He rolls Boris over, going for the cover.
One...Two...Thr-Boris kicks out!
Sanchez: "Ragnar looked uncertain at what to do there for a moment."
Silverfield: "He's new to pro wrestling. He knows how he would kill Boris, but defeating him in a pro wrestling way is very different. He'll get the hang of it. That or he'll kill someone."
Ragnar gets to his feet, meeting Boris as he rises to lift him up, and throw him down for a bodyslam. He follows this by grabbing an ankle as if hooking a leg and driving a knee into Boris's throat for the pinfall. He's quickly told how he was in the wrong when the ref tells him that he isn't pinning Boris, but choking him. Ragnar breaks the hold, backing away. He's grabbed from behind by Hoskuld, and pinned with a back suplex with a bridge.
One...Two...Thr-Ragnar kicks out!
Ragnar rolls away as Hoskuld quickly gets to his feet. Hoskuld dodges a punch by Boris, grabs him, lifts him up into a press slam position, and hurls Boris from the ring!
Sanchez: "What the heck? I would never imagine that Hoskuld could do that!"
Silverfield: "His biology is different from everyone around him. He does weight as much as Boris despite his small frame. We're just not supposed to talk about it. Remember?"
Hoskuld stuns Ragnar with a punch, lifting him into position for a piledriver. Ragnar tries to break free, but is dropped on his head. Hoskuld rolls him over for the cover.
One...Two...Ragnar kicks out!
Hoskuld stands up, but is grabbed by a returning Boris. He's lifted high into the air for a-
Sanchez: "Sea of Red! Sea of Red! This could be finished right here!"
Silverfield: "It's not over yet!"
Boris drops to his knees to go for the pinfall when Ragnar applies a picture perfect sleeperhold, with his knees using the small of Boris's back as support instead of the mat.
Sanchez: "Ragnar full of surprises tonight! First, it seems as if he doesn't know much about wrestling, then this!"
Silverfield: "You know the move. I would say that Father Nathan's been busy in getting Ragnar ready for his debut match."
Boris stands up, trying to reach Ragnar to knock him off, but can't quite reach. He jumps into the air, intending to land on his back, but Ragnar drops off to allow Boris to land on the back of his head. He quickly covers Hoskuld while Boris is stunned.
One...Two...Three!
Sanchez: "Ragnar's done it! He's won his debut match here in GWG!"
Silverfield: "Dasha isn't going to be very pleased with this result as she was trying to show that the Russians were a power here in Vesperia to be feared and respected."
Sanchez: "I would say that Ragnar won't soon forget the power of Boris Drago. Besides, I heard that a orcish raiding party managed to get all the way here and Boris helped defeat them. After that, he was helping some of the poorer folks rebuild."
Silverfield: "True. A war party has on occasion worked their way through the mountains to get around the Wall and slowly make their way here. They're normally stopped long before they can get near the capital, but their leader must have been smart. I wonder if they took him down or if he escaped?"
Sanchez: "We'll find out soon enough I'm sure. An orc can't go that long without attacking somebody, right?"
Silverfield: "Ha! That's a bit racist, but fairly true."
Archery Competition
Wilson: "If you will direct your attention one last time to the screens above to the side chamber. There, we will be having the archery competition between two of Vesperia's finest archers!"
The screens light up to reveal the side chamber as people finish getting to their seats.
Wilson: "First up, from the village of Thrunt in the Duchy of Renal, Tobias Staats!"
A short, rather scrawny man in a light brown tunic and brown leggings with cropped short brown hair raises a bow over his head to the cheers of the crowd.
Silverfield: "Tobias Staats is renowned throughout Vesperia and beyond for his long range talents. He was on with many journeys with Vesperian trading vessels to Valaria, Tentaria, Dalamar, and Yaarador. Legend has it that he managed to take down Captain Skabbins the Crusher with an arrow through the left eye before the ships even came into a decent range for the ballistae. So the battle was essentially won before it even started. He's also renown for being able to get a hail of arrows in the sky on his own."
Sanchez: "That sounds pretty epic!"
Wilson: "And he will be facing from the Wall...Makolm Alsgaard!"
A large brute of a man in chain mail armor over leather with bare legs. He may have a tunic, but you can't see it under the armor. His head is shaved bald and he is layered with scars.
Silverfield: "Makolm was born in the middle of a battle on the top of the Wall. Legend has it that his mother was slain while she was in labor and that an archer cut him out. He came out of her belly, seized an arrow from the archer, and slew his mother's killer when he used his own umbilical cord to let the arrow fly."
Sanchez: "That sounds a bit far fetched..."
Silverfield: "You do know what Legends are, right?"
Sanchez: "I do."
Wilson: "The first stage of the night will shooting arrows into a garland of vines that is twelve inches at the diameter. We will begin at a short range for six shots then move to a long range for six shots. One point will be awarded for each shot that lands inside of the garland. Tobias Staats will go first."
Tobias Staats stands in the shooting range with his bow, drinking in the cheers of the fans.
Sanchez: "I find it interesting that a Vesperian isn't one of the two out there tonight."
Silverfield: "These are the very best in the empire, better than even the best Vesperian archer. Though it is surprising that no one called in a favor."
The crowd goes silent as Tobias draws his first arrow. They cheer as each shot thunks into the wooden partician inside of the garland and go silent when he moves onto his next shot. Only the fourth shot of six goes slightly astray, piercing through the garland instead of going inside of it.
Wilson: "Five points for Tobias Staats! A fine start to this contest! Next up, Makolm Alsgaard!"
Makolm gets into position, looking at the garland with distaste.
Sanchez: "Why does Makolm look at the target like that?"
Silverfield: "He's probably disappointed that he's not firing at war criminals."
Sanchez: "For real?"
Silverfield: "Life is harsh at the Wall."
Makolm methodically let's loose six arrows, each one striking the target inside of the garland. He grunts with a grimace, heading back to his station so that the next target can be set up.
Wilson: "A perfect run! Six points for Makolm to begin this contest!"
The arrows are grabbed and returned to their owners as the garland is being taken down to be moved to the long range. Tobias Staats takes his position with a smile.
Quick as a flash, Tobias looses six arrows that each strike the target inside of the garland. The crowd cheers as he sinks his last arrow.
Wilson: "Six points for Tobias to bring him up to eleven points! Let's see what Makolm can do at this range!"
Makolm Alsgaard steps up to his position with a scowl, readying his first arrow.
With practiced ease, Makolm sinks all six arrows into the target.
Wilson: "And Makolm continues his perfect score to bring him to twelve points! Next we will do the wand challenge. A stake will be put into the ground to be shot at. Points will be given for hitting the target and a further point for the arrow remaining in the target."
Tobias Staats waits as the garland is being taken down to be replaced by a stake that is six feet tall and three inches wide. Tobias draws his first arrow with a smile.
The first three shots strike the wand and remain stuck in place. The fourth shots missed the target. The fifth shot strikes, but falls out. The sixth shot strikes and remains in place.
Wilson: "A good run for Tobias! Nine additional points to bring his running total to twenty! Can Makolm continue his perfect streak?"
Makolm Alsgaard steps up, smirking at Tobias as the Renallian walks away.
Makolm's second shot goes wide of the target, but every other arrow hits home and stays in the wand.
Wilson: "Not a perfect round for Makolm, but he does add ten points to his score to bring him up to twenty-two points! The wand is being moved to the long range now with Makolm leading over Tobias by two points!"
Tobias gets into position once the wand is moved, letting his arrows fly quickly. All of them strike the wand with only the first arrow falling back out of the wand. Tobias raises his bow over his head with a smile.
Wilson: "Eleven points for Tobias to bring his total up to thirty-one!"
Makolm Alsgaard gets into position, though this time, he is sure to run his shoulder into Tobias on his way.
Alsgaard: "Watch yourself, Renallian."
Makolm let's his arrows fly, but misses three of his shots. The three that strike remain in the wand. He lets out a curse in Harador as he walks away from the station.
Wilson: "Makolm scores six points to bring his total to twenty-eight! Now Tobias is leading by three points! The next event will be the Circle! A circle is placed on the ground at a long range for the archers to aim arrows through the air. There will be six shots with two points being scored for each shot that lands within the target."
Tobias points his bow skywards, letting loose his arrows. Three of the arrows strike their target within the circle. Tobias nods with a smile as the arrows are being returned to him. He looks over at Makolm with a laugh.
Staats: "Beat that, barbarian!"
Wilson: "Tobias scores six points to bring his total up to thirty-seven!"
Makolm steps into position, scowling at Tobias as he does so. He points his bow up, but not quite so high as Tobias did. Four of his six shots strike the target. He grins at Tobias, who just shrugs.
Wilson: "Makolm scores eight points this time around to bring his total up to thirty-six, just a point down from Tobias! The next will feature both archers standing side by side to see who can shoot their arrow the furthest! The one who does so will score three points. It's still anyone's game, folks!"
Tobias smiles as Makolm walks over to stand next to him with a growl.
Sanchez: "What kind of ranges are we looking at here?"
Silverfield: "An average Vesperian bow can send an arrow about four hundred yards. The bows they carry are anything, but average."
Tobias slings his first arrow with a smile. One thousand four hundred and twenty-four yards!
Makolm sends his first arrow through the air. One thousand four hundred and thirty-three yards!
Wilson: "After the first shot, Makolm is winning!"
Staats: "I was just getting warmed up. Watch this one!"
Tobias pulls his arrow back, a look of determination on his face as he draws back as far as he can. He looses the arrow with a shout. One thousand six hundred and twenty-five yards!
Sanchez: "Holy crap!"
Silverfield: "That was a long shot."
Makolm draws his arrow back with a grimace before letting it loose. One thousand five hundred and thirty-three yards!
Wilson: "Tobias in the lead! Last shot coming up!"
Tobias let's loose his last arrow, letting a whoop when it lands. One thousand eight hundred and forty yards!
Staats: "Beat that!"
Makolm grits his teeth, drawing one more arrow. One thousand eight hundred and forty-five yards!
Wilson: "Makolm Alsgaard has shot the furthest and is thus awarded three points to bring him up to thirty-nine points to Tobias having thirty-seven. The final challenge is the speed challenge where the archers will be given one point per arrow fired over the course of a minute."
Makolm walks off the range to allow Tobias to go first, but not before punching Tobias in the shoulder with a rough laugh.
Alsgaard: "You won't win this challenge, Renallian. We Harador make superior archers."
Staats: "Superior at killing mindless orcs, goblins, ogres, and the like. We Renallians are superior."
Sanchez: "How many arrows can an archer normally send out in a minute?"
Silverfield: "The normal archer is suggested to keep their rate down to six per minute, but they can do many more. It's just that during the course of a battle, shooting out too many arrows at a pace can wear the archer out. They normally carry about sixty to seventy-two arrows into battle at a time with younger soldiers running supplies."
Staats: "You know what, Alsgaard? Why don't you go first this time?"
Makolm narrows his eyes, but takes his place to get ready to fire.
Wilson: "Go!"
Makolm begins firing arrows quickly, one after the other until a horn sounds for him to stop.
Wilson: "Makolm has fired nineteen arrows in a minute! This brings Makolm to fifty-eight points! To win, Tobias will have to fire more than twenty-one arrows!"
Tobias cracks his neck with a laugh.
Staats: "This is where we separate the men from the boys."
Tobias begins firing arrows, his hands like a blur as the bowstring seemingly never stops vibrating. Forty-two arrows!
Wilson: "The winner of the archery competition...Tobias Staats!"
Sanchez: "Wow! That was just...wow."
Silverfield: "It has been said that Tobias can make his own volley of arrows. He just proved it tonight in winning."
Sanchez: "I know you said it early on, but watching it is a whole 'nother thing!"
Makolm Alsgaard puts his bow away with a growl, walking toward Tobias Staats. Tobias looks up at Makolm, not saying anything. Makolm looks at him for a long time before begrudgingly putting out his hand.
Alsgaard: "The better archer won. Today."
Tobias grins, taking the hand.
Staats: "You are an amazing archer. You should come with me on a journey on a ship someday so we can shoot some pirates!"
Alsgaard: "And you to the Wall."
Staats: "Sounds like fun!"
The fans begin making their way back to their normal seats as the screens fade.
Sanchez: "I thought for sure that Makolm was going to punch Tobias in the face."
Silverfield: "You watch too much pro wrestling."
Sanchez: "Really?"
Silverfield: "It's a joke!"
Sanchez: "I know, but a poor one!"
World Championship
Wilson: "Ladies and gentlemen, we have come to the main event of the evening! This final match of the night is for the Glorious Wrestling Guild World Championship! Featuring first the challenger, from the Cakesphere? Cakeworld? Wait...yo' mommas? Who wrote this?"
Sanchez: "I'm thinking Clowny wrote his own intro, MaLisha. Just announce his name."
Wilson: "He is Mr. Clowny!"
Mr. Clowny comes out from the back, dancing to music that's only in his head. He makes his way down to the ring as people stare at him.
Silverfield: "We have Jesters or Fools here, but not so much in the way of clowns. It's a brand new experience for these people."
Sanchez: "I heard that he doesn't have his cake powers anymore. They must have required a direct connection to the source of the powers."
Silverfield: "Ah. That would be like a priest of our world that worshiped a living god that was trapped on your world. Without a connection to his god, his powers would be gone."
Mr. Clowny dances about the ring, squeezing his nose for the familiar *honk* sound. He gooses the ref when she isn't looking, causing her to jump into the air. She turns around and scolds him, threatening to disqualify him before the match even starts.
Sanchez: "Clowny getting real familiar with the ref there."
Silverfield: "Disgusting behavior."
Wilson: "And his opponent, the GWG World champion...Dasha!"
Dasha comes out from the back to a smattering of boos from the fans. She sneers at a few close fans, also exiles from Earth, before heading down to the ring. She looks at Mr. Clowny with utter loathing as she stretches before the bell rings to start the match.
Sanchez: "Dasha looks like she'd rather shoot Mr. Clowny than wrestle him in the ring."
Silverfield: "It's the Imperiousness in Dasha. She feels that she's above the foolish antics of Clowny. Even without the magical powers, I'm sure he has some antics up his sleeve."
As the bell rings to start the match, Clowny greets Dasha in the center of the ring with an arm drag. Then another one. Then another one! He slips behind he as she gets up with a Russian curse to hit an atomic drop. He moves to follow this up with a bulldog when Dasha lifts him up using his momentum and slams Clowny onto his back. She waits for him to sit up, kicking him square in the face to send him back to the mat with a loud *honk*.
Sanchez: "A brutal kick right in the clown nose!"
Silverfield: "Dasha had told Father Nathan that she wasn't going to hold back."
Dasha drags Clowny to his feet, but he grabs her with a fireman's carry that he turns into an airplane spin, and drops her to the mat. Clowny runs to the ropes, coming back to leap into the air for a Whoopie Cushion splash. Dasha rolls out of the way so that Clowny lands on his butt. He rolls onto his side, twitching in pain as he reaches at his behind.
Dasha grabs Clowny by the throat with both hands for a choke. She holds it for a few seconds before delivering several vicious headbutts.
*Honk!*
*Honk!*
*HONK!*
The ref yells at Dasha until she releases the choke. Clowny rolls away, clutching at his throat to try to regain his breath and knocking his rubber nose away to wipe the blood away.
Clowny gets back up, but is grabbed by Dasha for a snap suplex. She follows this up with a Sanbo joint lock on Clowny's shoulder. Clowny let's out a stream of anguished words that only come out as *honk*s.
Silverfield: "Where do those honks come from now? The nose is on the other side of the ring."
Sanchez: "No idea. Dasha looks like she just about has Clowny's shoulder dislocated."
Clowny gets a foot on the ropes, causing the ref to force Dasha to break the hold. Dasha does so, then rips Clowny off of the mat, lifting him up, and bringing him down for a Spinebuster.
Dasha gets up, motioning for Clowny to rise, but he doesn't. She shrugs, applying a Sanbo Calf Crush. Clowny tries to reach for the ropes, but finds that he's in the middle of the ring.
Sanchez: "It doesn't look like Clowny can fight his way out of this one."
Silverfield: "Then he better give up or else find his way to the local Healer because he'll be broken."
Mr. Clowny tries to break out, but finds that he cannot easily do so. You could almost see the light bulb flash over his head as he manages to reach up with his finger and-
Sanchez: "OH MY GOD! Clowny just tried to violate Dasha's butt through her pants!"
Silverfield: "What is wrong with him?"
Dasha breaks the hold, spouting a stream of Russian curses. She grabs Clowny by the ear as he sits up and hits the Iron Fist right over the heart. She perches on his hips and hits the move three more times before going for the cover.
One...Two...Three!
Sanchez: "Yeah...we should have a Healer summoned."
Silverfield: "Probably a good idea."
Dasha raises the GWG World title belt over her head in victory to a round of boos from the crowd. She sneers at them before heading to the back.
Silverfield: "Is there really going to be anyone who can challenge Dasha for the World title?"
Sanchez: "Unless more people come sign up? I have my doubts. Maybe once Ragnar gets a bit more training."
Silverfield: "That's all the time we have tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Join us for the first episode of Glorious Wrestling Guild's Forge. We'll be coming to you live from the Southern Glory Arena at Salbalast. It's a major Vesperian port city on the Southern Coast of the Duchy of Renallia."
That's the PDF version of the show and is downloadable. Shows even come with mp3 files built into the pdf for a more immersive viewing.
Exile
Held in the capital city of the Vesperian Empire, Vesper, at a location used for different sporting events. A new wrestling event is to be held for people who mainly knew such things as Jousts and Duels, amongst other sporting events from our Middle Ages. It will be a change of pace for the Vesperians to see such an event, as well for those formerly of the ASA and Earth who would be attending a sporting event without the doom and gloom of war hanging over their heads. Still, it is not "home" and so, we begin our Exile.
Opening
Wilson: "We will be opening tonight's program with an opening prayer by the Grand High Priest of Kyjun, Ezzio Nizzola!"
An impossibly old man walks out from the back. He has shoulder length hair of pure white color though he is bald on the top of the head. His white skin is wrinkled and spotted with his face seeming to be sliding off of his face with a sad expression. He wears silken robes resplendent with silver and blue decor. He slowly walks to the ring while leaning on a eight foot tall ornate wooden staff painted silver and blue with a silver eagle at the top holding a light blue sapphire the size of an ostrich egg.
Sanchez: "How old is Ezzio Nizzola?"
Silverfield: "If one would believe what is said, he is several hundred years old because of the blessings of Kyjun so that he may carry on the work of the God of Vesperia. He's sort of similar to the Pope of your Catholic Church."
Sanchez: "But I thought that Kyjun was really dead and could no longer give such blessings? If that's so, then how is-"
Silverfield: "There are a thousand different answers to that mystery, but nothing has ever been proven."
Ring attendants help Ezzio Nizzola up the stairs and into the ring. He is handed an amber gem stone that is flat on one side. It begins to glow gold as he presses it to his throat, and his voice becomes magnified so that everyone in the brand new arena can hear.
Nizzola: "Welcome everyone! Welcome to the opening show of the Glorious Wrestling Guild. It is called Exile for the people of Earth whom we have welcomed into our lands!"
"But before we get into the grand spectacle that is a mixture of the sporting events of the ones we know and that which the people of Earth call professional wrestling, I would like to call for a prayer."
Everyone in the arena silently stand up and bow their heads, even those who hail from Earth do so as well, and bow their heads.
"Kyjun, God of Goodness, Father of Vesperia, we ask for your blessings over this event! Keep our warriors safe as they entertain the people across our world and hone their skills for the tests to come."
"It is true, we know, that you have given your life long ago while defending your children from the vile Eternals of the Xamillian Empire. It's true that the power that you have granted your followers before the birth of Vesperia can no longer be granted, but you still live on!"
"So long as a single person remains who will carry the Vesperian flag that represents the unity of our peoples. Vesperians, Renallians, Harador, and now Earth...ians, the spirit of your teachings will remain with us all! It had carried us through the dark times when Xamillia attempted to cover all of the world and beyond with their darkness. Your teachings will continue to grant us strength so that one day we may cleanse the world of all of the Eternals and free the peoples of the North who have spent too many long years under the brutal rule of the bastards who had even betrayed their own God to rob divine power. Your teachings have and always will keep us on the path of righteousness!"
"We know oh Lord Kyjun that you watch over us from beyond the grave in the afterlife where we who have proven ourselves worthy may join you. We in turn shall ever endeavor to prove ourselves worthy of joining you. In your name we pray. Amen."
Everyone silently take their seats as ring attendants help Ezzio Nizzola out of the ring and to the back.
Silverfield: "He is a wise man and the teachings of Kyjun are nice to hear, but I would put my real weight to the blessings and teachings of Medmos in this spectacle. This is a series of martial contests and in such, there is no better than the God of Military Might, Medmos. I think that he will be one of the gods that we will need to look to so that we can find the strength to destroy Xamillia and free the races enslaved to the North."
Sanchez: "I'm afraid I have not fully read up on gods other than Kyjun quite yet."
Silverfield: "You will in time. Other arenas throughout Vesperia are nearly finished and I have heard that a few arenas are being built in allied nations beyond our borders. We will get the chance to tour and you'll know far more about the world that fate has forced you to call home."
Sanchez: "It's an exciting and yet bittersweet time for us, Connor. Exciting because we will see more of this world. Bittersweet because we know that our world is likely...dead or close to it."
Silverfield: "Where there is life, there is hope. I'm sure there are yet brave heroes behind on Earth to ensure that not all is lost."
Sanchez: "And I hold onto that hope nightly."
Zadian vs Frietag
Wilson: "Our first wrestling contest of the night is scheduled for one fall! Featuring the challenger, weighing in at three hundred and twenty pounds...Samuel Zadian!"
Samuel Zadian walks out from the back to the cheering of the crowd. He looks a bit put out from the lack of entrance music, but shakes it off to head down to the ring.
Sanchez: "So, I know it isn't like we have a stock of entrance music anymore like we did on Earth, but I thought that we had something of an orchestra to supply something?"
Silverfield: "I think we're still working out the details to write up people new music to come down to the ring to."
Wilson: "And his opponent, weighing in at three hundred pounds...Frietag!"
Tony Manzell walks out from the back with a wide smile, motioning to the ring entrance until Frietag comes out to the cheers of the fans. They walk down to the ring, Tony Manzell opening the ropes for his client as to let him into the ring. Frietag gets into the ring, stretching out to get ready for the match. Tony Manzell points at Samuel Madison with a laugh.
Manzell: "You're going down, boyo! This is the first pro wrestling match of Glorious Wrestling Guild and you're gonna look like a big ole bitch while getting your ass kicked!"
Samuel Zadian shakes his head, looking to Frietag, who just shrugs with a smile.
Sanchez: "Tony Manzell is pretty arrogant going into this."
Silverfield: "He has been training Frietag pretty hard during this last year. It isn't like they've had much else to do. If Manzell imparted even a small part of his skills onto Frietag, then this will be a great match. Tony Manzell beat everyone put in front of him during his time with the Imperial Wrestling Alliance on Earth."
Sanchez: "This is true. Let's see what happens with the first pro wrestling match of the Glorious Wrestling Guild!"
As the bell rings, Frietag and Samuel Madison meet in the middle of the ring to exchange punches. They continue like boxers for a few minutes until Samuel staggers backwards, bleeding from a cut under the left eye. Frietag grabs Samuel, bringing him down with a hip toss, and driving a knee under Samuel's chin. He keeps the knee pressed in while slamming a fist into Samuel's gut over and over again.
Sanchez: "The opening minutes and Frietag isn't letting up."
Silverfield: "Manzell did say that Frietag was going to kick Zadian's ass."
The ref forces Frietag to get off of Zadian when he notices that the knee has become a choke hold. Samuel Zadian rolls away, holding his throat, and trying to catch back his air. Frietag stalks around Samuel, cracking his knuckles with menace.
Samuel gets back up with a curse, wiping blood from his face. He lunges at Frietag, but is caught up for a bodyslam. Samuel sits right back up, but Frietag kicks him in the face to send him back down to the mat. Frietag continues stomping Samuel in the face and chest until Samuel grabs Frietag's foot to twist it and bring Frietag down to the mat.
Frietag gets back up into a seated position, but Samuel lunges up to smash Frietag across the jaw with an elbow. Samuel rises up, catching Frietag with a front face lock, and bringing him back down to the mat with a ddt. He pushes Frietag over, applying a rear naked choke.
Sanchez: "Samuel Zadian isn't going to just roll over and play dead in this match."
Silverfield: "I would hope not. It would make for a poor opening match if he did."
Frietag grabs the ropes so that the ref would break the hold for him. Before Samuel can get far away, Frietag is up. He grabs Samuel as if for a neckbreaker, bringing him over his shoulder, and then dropping down to drive Samuel's head into the mat. He goes for the cover.
One...Two...Samuel kicks out!
Frietag kneels up, back handing Samuel as he tries to roll away. Frietag gets up, pulling Samuel to his feet, and into an irish whip. Samuel ducks a clothesline on the rebound, keeps going, and comes back to leap into the air for a Superman Punch!
Frietag ducks under the fist, leaping up into the air to catch Samuel with a mid-air spear that he twists around to bring down Samuel with a power bomb!
Sanchez: "What the heck? What an impact from that move!"
Silverfield: "Frietag going for the pinfall here and this may be it!"
One...Two...Three!
The ref raises Frietag's hand in the air as Tony Manzell rolls into the ring to help his client celebrate.
Sanchez: "The opening match of Glorious Wrestling Guild and Frietag has won!"
Silverfield: "It'll be some good momentum going in for Frietag."
JOUST! HOLY ORDER OF THE SWORD OF KYJUN (PALADIN ORDER) VS THE BROTHERHOOD OF MEDMOS (KNIGHTLY ORDER)
Wilson: "Now, if you would direct your attention to the screens overhead. They are the flat surfaces overhead that you can see to the outside for those unused to the...erm...magic."
Four giant screens come to life to show the a side chamber in the building that has solid ground instead of stone floor. Two horses stand across from each other with a group around each one and armored people getting mounted on the horse.
Sanchez: "I see that a lot of people have left. It seems that some dual tickets were sold for the seating to the side arena so that people could go back and forth from here to there to watch the action live instead of on screens."
Silverfield: "It's a luxury option. A lot of those tickets were bought by the guilds, the churches, and the different warrior orders to give to their people."
Wilson: "The challenger in the bright armor with the shield bearing the symbol of a sword. He is from the Holy Order of the Sword of Kyjun and is one of the top ranked paladins...Gottold Skell the Fourth!"
Gotthold raises his lance into the air to the cheers of the fans while his shield is being strapped to his other arm.
Wilson: "And his opponent in the dark iron armor with the shield bearing the severed head of an orc. He is from the Brotherhood of Medmos, a veteran knight of nearly a score campaigns at the Wall...Ortwin Ringstorff!"
Ortwin raises the shield strapped to his arm, getting even more cheers from the crowd.
Sanchez: "Now Kyjun is the God of Goodness that is the basis of the state religion, even though Kyjun himself is dead. Medmos is a War God, known as the God of the Military. He was worshiped by the Harador before the rise of the Vesperian Empire and is considered a Barbaric God. Right?"
Silverfield: "That would be correct."
Sanchez: "Then why was Lord Ringstorff cheered for more than Lord Skell?"
Silverfield: "This is something of a war of generation. The older generations feel that the teachings of Kyjun are to be held above everything else. The younger generations feel that a more practical outlook is needed. This includes the worship of living gods such as Medmos, God of the Military, Eton, the Dwarven Battle God, Qildir, the God of Craftsmanship and Trade, Deheia, the Elvish Sea Goddess, or a number of lesser known deities. Lesser known to many Vesperians anyway. It is thought that if we do not hold Kyjun's Truth to be the only truth, then we will allow a moral rot to take hold of our empire and bring it into ruin."
Sanchez: "Do you believe that to be true?"
Silverfield: "No. I think that Kyjun's teachings are fine to remember, but we should pray to gods that can hear us and respond to our prayers."
Sanchez: "Why isn't the Brotherhood of Medmos an order of paladins?"
Silverfield: "They battle in his name, but have refused the trappings of the paladin. They feel that Medmos should not have to grant supernatural abilities, but simply watch as they battle in his name. A harsh and pragmatic group that is mainly Vesperians who have served their time on the Wall and have become to be considered brothers to the Harador by engaging in their rituals to become Harador adults."
Sanchez: "What is-"
Silverfield: "Another time! The joust is about to begin!"
Gottold Skell the Fourth and Ortwin Ringstorff set their lances and shields into place. The crowd begins to cheer wildly as the two begin barreling at each other at top speed.
Sanchez: "Is this like chicken?"
Silverfield: "No, roast chicken is being sold at the stands. This is a joust!"
Sanchez: "I didn't mean. Oh my!"
The two meet in the middle of the way, lances clashing against shields and glancing off. The momentum of the knight and the paladin take them to the opposite sides of the field where they begin turning their horses around for another pass.
Silverfield: "The first to knock the other from the horse with the lance wins."
Sanchez: "What if they knock each other off?"
Silverfield: "Then they draw swords and fight to the yield."
The two warriors get their horses straightened and begin another charge. This time when they meet in the middle, Ringstorff's lance shatters while Skell's shield snaps. The momentum of the horses carries them back to the original positions while nothing of their footsteps can be heard over the roar of the crowd.
Sanchez: "What's Lord Ortwin Ringstorff going to do without a lance? He'll be beaten for sure!"
Silverfield: "Watch. This next pass will determine if Lord Ringstorff loses or if the contest will continue."
Once the two warriors get turned around, Ortwin Ringstorff begins adjusting himself on his horse. Once the charge begins, he quickly rises up while holding the reins until he's standing on the saddle.
Ortwin slaps aside the lance with his shield, knocking the shield from his arm, dives at Gottold Skell the Fourth, and tackling him off of the horse to the ground.
The two men rise up to their feet and draw their swords.
Ringstorff: "Accept that the ways of Kyjun are in the past! Embrace the future! Military might will destroy evil!"
Skell: "The teachings of Kyjun remain true to this day! The foundation of this very empire cannot be wrong!"
The two attack each other with all of their might, blades sending out a shower of sparks as they clash.
Silverfield: "Tradition dictates that jousters use wooden lances and dulled swords. Somehow, I don't think this is the case tonight. The bad blood between the Holy Order of the Sword of Kyjun and the Brotherhood of Medmos runs deep."
Sanchez: "So, someone could die tonight?"
Silverfield: "That's a very real possibility."
Gottold Skell strikes a blow along the side of Ortwin Ringstorff. It doesn't sink in deep, but draws blood. Ortwin brings his own sword down upon the right shoulder. His blow doesn't draw blood, but crushes the shoulder pauldron in.
The two back away from each other. Ortwin holds his side, blood running through his armored fingers. Gotthold sticks his sword point into the ground, rips the pauldron away, revealing the chain mail underneath. He casts it away with a curse before taking up his sword again.
Skell: "Ours is divine birthright from Kyjun himself! You disrespect his memory through the worship of another god! A traitor to your own race!"
Ringstorff: "You're an idiot! Kyjun would not want us continuing to worship him after his death! It's insanity to do more than to use his lessons as guide and embrace living gods with ideals that can grow and change!"
Silverfield: "It's worth knowing that the Holy Order of the Sword of Kyjun is one of the most obstinate, zealous groups in all of Vesperia. The Brotherhood of Medmos gains in popularity because they worship Medmos and frame his ideals with those of Kyjun to create a new whole."
Sanchez: "I see. We had all kinds of extremists back on Earth. If someone believed in something, there was always someone willing to commit violence for it."
The two come at each other again, the clashing of blades increasingly violent with neither willing to give even an inch of ground.
With a roar, Gotthold Skell snaps Ortwin Ringstorff's sword, slashing him from shoulder to hip. The armor takes the brunt of the attack, but it draws blood all the same. Ortwin staggers backwards, dropping his hilt to the ground.
Skell: "Surrender or there will be one less race traitor to populate this land!"
Ringstorff: "Kyjun and Medmos share a teaching. They say never surrender to the enemy!"
Ortwin reaches to his back where a sword sits in an oversized scabbard. He draws it with a wince and a shower of sparks. It would be a normal sword, save for the hooks all along the blade that curve down and are sharpened on the inside.
Sanchez: "What in the world is that?"
Silverfield: "A Harador forged blade. It's meant to kill. The hooks catch on flesh and rip it apart. It's also good in the hands of a skilled warrior to disarm your enemy before spreading his guts across the battlefield. Gotthold threatened to kill him. A Harador doesn't threaten to kill, he just does. Ortwin is Vesperian yes, but he is Harador in spirit."
Gotthold sneers at Ortwin, readying for another attack.
Skell: "Barbarian weapons won't help you live the night! Submit and go back to the Wall to lick your wounds!"
Ortwin doesn't respond, wiping blood from his chest across the flat of his sword.
The two clash again, but it begins to become clear that Ortwin has changed his fighting style. He disarms Gotthold, sending the paladin's sword into the air. His next swing catches Gotthold in the side, the deadly hooks catching a seam. The leather straps holding the chest plate on that side rip, and Ortwin opens Gotthold's armor up with the bottom of his blade. Near the top of his sword catches chain mail and leather, ripping through it all to tear open the meat inside.
Ortwin finishes his brutal slash, tears his sword away, and backs up. Gotthold stands in shock, his chest plate only holding on by a couple of straps, and his insides spilling through his fingers. He drops to his knees at the same time his sword slams into the ground point first.
Skell: "I...yield."
Ortwin watches grimly as Gotthold passes out from shock, healers running to their sides. Ortwin shakes them off, motioning to the downed paladin.
Ringstorff: "I will live. Help him first. He has no god to listen to his prayers."
Back in the ring, MaLisha Wilson watches at screen as if entranced at what happens when she remembers herself.
Wilson: "And the winner of this contest, Lord Ortwin Ringstorff of the Brotherhood of Medmos!"
The crowd cheer wildly, though the fans with the dual tickets begin making their way back to the main arena.
Sanchez: "And that's how a joust is normally done?"
Silverfield: "No. It is normally a bit less violent than that. These two orders just have the long standing grudge."
Sanchez: "That was just...brutal."
Silverfield: "More so than some of the wrestling matches you've seen in the past?"
Sanchez: "No, I suppose not."
AN EXHIBITION BY THE GUILD OF ELEMENTAL SPIRITS
Wilson: "If you will address your attention once again to the magical screens above. Presenting from the Guild of Elemental Spirits, and I don't mean the very odd kinds from up North that you can drink, the beautiful Gisela Eminger!"
Twisting winds turn the ground in the side chamber that stirs up dirt which turns into fiery tornado then a water spout before settling into the form of a woman. Mist cloaks her dignity until a shimmering blue strapless dress comes into view that appears to be water. She is handed a amber gem stone to press to her throat.
Eminger: "Thank you for the gracious introduction! I am one of the highest ranked Elementalists of our order, having mastered each of the four elemental magics. Though that is not what I am here to present to you tonight."
A level plane of fire springs to life, hovering an inch over the ground. It stretches and grows around Gisela, until only a circle around her appears to not be made up of flame. The bottom edges of her dress bubble and steam, despite being mid thigh.
Gisela steps onto the plane of fire, the hole filling behind her. The fire transforms into a stone earth.
Eminger: "Once upon a time, we Vesperians were a selfish lot. We tilled the land and honed our fighting skills, always in communion with our god, Kyjun. Though he taught us the basic tenets that we know now back then, we stayed isolated from other groups. We wanted to remain alone and in peace. That was when the Eternals came. That's when Xamillia came to our door step. Kyjun fought for us, even as the enemy worked to enslave us all. Even as the enemy worked to burn down the Forest of Mist to the West of us. Kyjun showed us that we should fight for more than ourselves when he went forth to destroy the Eternals himself."
A hole forms along the plane, sinking down as if bottomless.
"As we know, Kyjun died to protect us. His death stripped us of the powers he had been granting us, but not of his teachings. Not of his Word. We unified with the Renallians and the Harador to free our land of the evil of Xamillia. His death took away with but one hand though. He gave with the other when his death tore open a hole in the world into another. We found gold, silver, minerals, gems, diamonds, and more wealth than could ever be imagined in the Elemental Plane of Earth. That's not all we found. We found links to other Elemental Planes from exploring the Elemental Plane of Earth. Fire, Water, and Air. The realms are full of dangerous creatures and spirits of unimaginable power. We deal with the spirits. Behold!"
The stone ground upon Gisela stands begins to crack and break apart as large moss covered stones rise up in the general humanoid shape. Small red glowing eyes peek out of a crack in the "head" of the creature. It rises up to stand nearly thirty feet tall to look around at the crowd.
Sanchez: "What in the heck is that? I think I remember Thamptis commanding something similar, but it was made of glass."
Silverfield: "You must be thinking golem. That was a glass golem. Glass animated by magic and forcing a spirit to inhabit the body, often an elemental. This is-"
Eminger: "An Earth Elemental. A spiritual being of the Pure Earth. Those of the Earth School of the Guild of Elemental Spirits can summon and command these creatures. Earth Elementals are used to help guide mining expeditions into the depths to help us find the best materials while angering as few native creatures as possible."
The Earth Elemental sinks back into the ground without a trace, leaving behind a small black coal.
Eminger: "The first Elemental Plane we discovered outside of the Elemental Plane of Earth, was Fire. It was a dangerous place for us to explore, but a very wonderful one."
A flame flickers to life on the coal, causing it to quickly glow orange as the flame begins to consume it. The flames quickly grow and expand out to nearly a dozen feet tall with two dark spots shadowing in the flames in what could be eyes.
Eminger: "We have helped the guilds for generations with the use of Fire Elementals in the forges to keep them lit and hot. Tiny fire elementals have been used in some locations for street lamps. You just have to keep them fed and happy for them to continue on their work."
Sanchez: "This sounds similar to slavery, Connor."
Silverfield: "The spirits are kept happy and well fed. There are intelligent elementals that want more, but we use the semi-intelligent that are fairly easy to appease. Like using domesticated animals."
Sanchez: "I see."
The flames die away as the Flame Elemental fades away, leaving a small divot in the stone. Waters fills the divot to form a small pool.
Eminger: "We had mastered the Elemental Planes of Earth and Fire. Can't get much more dangerous than that, right? Wrong. We discovered the Elemental Plane of Water. We could easily traverse the Planes of Earth and Fire with a few protection spells. The Elemental Plane of Water required a lot of swimming from one vast underwater bubble to another. We chartered vessels from an allied nation to the North, vessels that could journey through this region and protect ourselves from some of the creatures there that approached the scale of mountains."
The pool of water becomes a geyser, a stream of water in the air that forms a serpent-like head. It rises up, curling around Gisela, and hissing a watery tounge in her ear to make her giggle a bit.
Eminger: "When we began summoning Water Elementals, we wondered what could we do with their abilities to help our society? The answer came as cities grew and expanded. We needed to help bring fresh drinking water to places, help with irrigation for crops, and help with sanitation. The most brilliant use was when we used a combination of Earth Elementals to build corridors in front of the Wall and Water Elementals to flood the entire region ten miles North of the Wall to defeat an invading force from Xamillia. The water was nearly a hundred feet deep that day!"
Sanchez: "A hundred feet deep? Wow!"
Silverfield: "Legend has it that an entire tribe of orcs died on that day."
The water serpent dissolves away into nothing and Gisela reaches into a pouch. She tosses a handful of sparkling dust into the air and it begins swirling around her.
Eminger: "The last plane that we discovered was the Elemental Plane of Air. It is a wondrous world of islands of earth and stone floating through the air. We use Air Elementals to help sailing vessels speed their journeys when the wind is low, to help windmills go, and in a few cases bring a nice cool breeze to a hot day."
The sparkles fall to the ground and overhead a cloud begins to form.
Eminger: "That there are four different basic elemental types is true, but not so that there are only these four types. There are also paraelementals, quasielementals, omnimentals, and a variety of other odd elementals. This one is in the class of omnimental and is what we call a Tempest!"
The cloud quickly darkens into a storm cloud, growing larger and larger. Lightning cackles within it as fiery eyes and a mouth open up on it.
Eminger: "A Tempest is hard to control, even for the most skilled of Elementalists, but can help turn the tide of a battle with harsh wind, rain, lightning, and even stone hail."
The Tempest vanishes and the stone ground returns to normal. Gisela Eminger takes a bow to the cheering crowd.
Eminger: "Thank you! If you are interested in learning about Elemental Magic and the Summoning of these beautiful creatures, come to the Guild of Elemental Spirits, and you can be tested for magical potential. It's a long road to mastery, but it is worth it!"
Sanchez: "I wonder if any of my fellow Exiles will go get tested?"
Silverfield: "It's worth a shot. Most people begin learning a craft through apprenticeships at a young age, but I think exceptions will be made for those exiled here since they would have not had the chance before."
Sanchez: "Sounds good. I think a lot of my people have settled into different jobs and such. It isn't like we can do little else until we can find a way home. Being mostly of military background, a good number of people have entered military service. Some of those have made their way to the Wall to fight."
Silverfield: "I have never been to the Wall myself. I heard that it was a stunning sight."
Sanchez: "I heard an arena is being built in sight of the Wall. We may all get the chance to see it."
Silverfield: "So long as nothing gets past the Wall on that day, it will be great."
Sanchez: "I thought the Wall has always held."
Silverfield: "It has been overrun in places before. They're always driven back, but it has happened."
Sanchez: "Well, we should cross our fingers."
Triple Threat
Wilson: "This next match is a triple threat match for one fall! Featuring first, from Carador in the Duchy of Harador...Ragnar!"
Ragnar storms out from the back to the cheers of the fans, making his way to the ring. The intensity coming off of him makes the fans cheer even the louder.
Sanchez: "Now Ragnar used to be stationed on the Wall?"
Silverfield: "All Harador are stationed on the Wall at some point in their lives. All Harador go beyond the Wall at some point in their lives to kill enemies. Or rather, they do if they intend on being recognized as adults. A Harador that doesn't cross the Wall and bring back an enemy skull will always be considered a child."
Sanchez: "That sounds rather harsh."
Silverfield: "It is the military lifestyle for them."
Wilson: "Next up from Asgard...Hoskuld Lokison!"
Hoskuld Lokison walks out from the back to the cheering of the crowds. Celes pops out of the back alongside him.
Sanchez: "Hoskuld has been relaxing during his time here. I think I heard he had made a few new beers and other hard spirits for the locals to sample as far as making some coin here and there."
Silverfield: "A couple of the local guilds that deal with brewing have made some noise that Hoskuld selling his small batches to local bars has been cutting into their profits, but they can get over it. It isn't like Hoskuld makes that much."
Sanchez: "A gold coin not earned is still a gold coin not earned."
Wilson: "And the final opponent, from Russia on Earth...Boris Drago!"
Boris walks out from the back, though the crowd remains quiet as he walks to the ring with only a smattering of cheers. He steps into the ring, glaring at Hoskuld Lokison, and then nodding to Ragnar.
Sanchez: "Boris doesn't like Hoskuld a bit. Probably from the times that Hoskuld attempted to seduce Dasha."
Silverfield: "I didn't think Boris and Dasha had that kind of relationship for Boris to be so jealous."
Sanchez: "Boris wants to sometimes it seems."
As the bell rings, the three warriors begin circling the center of the ring while keeping an eye on each other.
Boris makes the first move, leveling Hoskuld with a single punch. He takes a few swings at Ragnar, but each shot is dodged. Ragnar hits Boris a few times in the gut before backing up out of the reach of the big Russian.
Boris starts walking toward Ragnar, who keeps backing up. Hoskuld grabs the ankle of Boris, but is stomped in the chest for his efforts. Ragnar uses the distraction to leap through the air to nail and elbow to the side of Boris's head, staggering him to the side, but not knocking him down.
Ragnar continues his assault, grabbing Boris by the left calf with both hands, and pulling the leg out from under Boris to bring him down to the mat.
Silverfield: "Ragnar has experience dealing with creatures that have the size and strength of Boris Drago. He might not have the wrestling skills that the other two have, but he is a born warrior."
Sanchez: "What creatures have the size and strength of Boris?"
Silverfield: "Other Harador, orcs, orges, and a few other creatures."
Hoskuld Lokison gets to his feet, laughing at Boris being down. That is until Ragnar clocks him across the jaw, sending him staggering back into the ropes.
Ragnar follows Hoskuld to the ropes, but is grabbed with a belly to belly suplex, and sent over the top rope. Boris gets to his feet and is met by Hoskuld with a right hand that doesn't faze the big guy.
Drago: "You won't get past me today."
Hoskuld ducks under a punch, slipping behind Boris. He turns around to with swinging his fist to nearly take the head off of...Dasha? Boris checks his swing, is grabbed, and brought down for a hot shot across the ropes.
Sanchez: "What the heck is going on? Where did Hoskuld go?"
Silverfield: "Magic."
Ragnar rolls back into the ring, frowning as Boris sits back up to look at Dasha in confusion.
Boris: "Why? What?"
Dasha: "Boris, you idiot! You try to hit me again and I will end you!"
Dasha just laughs as Ragnar jumps up to grab Boris from behind around the chin, places his knees in the small of Boris's back, and pulls backwards with all his might. Dasha shifts back into Hoskuld, punching Boris in the belly to send the air exploding from his lungs.
Sanchez: "Boris is falling!"
Silverfield: "Ragnar better move!"
Ragnar gets out of the way as Boris falls onto his back. He doesn't get to continue his attack because Hoskuld takes him down with a spear, going for the cover.
One...Two...Thr-Ragnar kicks out!
Sanchez: "Ragnar almost forgot he was supposed to kick out there."
Silverfield: "That would not have been a good reminder of the rules for him."
Hoskuld rolls Ragnar over, starting to apply a Boston Crab, when Boris plucks him from the Harador's back, and tosses him from the ring with a growl.
Ragnar rolls over as Boris reaches for him, kicking him square in the face.
Sanchez: "I bet Ragnar's wishing that he had an axe right about now."
Silverfield: "This fight would have been quickly ended."
Ragnar tries for another kick, but Boris grabs him by the foot, swings him, and sends him flying through the air to land on Hoskuld outside of the ring. Both of them smash into the ring railing, hitting the ground. Boris walks over to the ropes, leaning down to leer at the two.
Drago: "Come fight Boris. No lay around!"
Ragnar and Hoskuld both get to their feet as Boris eggs them on. They circle around the ring in different directions, rolling inside. Boris meets Hoskuld, choke slamming him to the mat. Boris turns around to be met by Ragnar by a knee to the gut that hits hard enough to double Boris over.
Ragnar looks at the doubled over Boris for a moment with a frown as if deciding what to do before jumping up to bring his knee into the back of Boris's neck to drive him face first into the mat. He rolls Boris over, going for the cover.
One...Two...Thr-Boris kicks out!
Sanchez: "Ragnar looked uncertain at what to do there for a moment."
Silverfield: "He's new to pro wrestling. He knows how he would kill Boris, but defeating him in a pro wrestling way is very different. He'll get the hang of it. That or he'll kill someone."
Ragnar gets to his feet, meeting Boris as he rises to lift him up, and throw him down for a bodyslam. He follows this by grabbing an ankle as if hooking a leg and driving a knee into Boris's throat for the pinfall. He's quickly told how he was in the wrong when the ref tells him that he isn't pinning Boris, but choking him. Ragnar breaks the hold, backing away. He's grabbed from behind by Hoskuld, and pinned with a back suplex with a bridge.
One...Two...Thr-Ragnar kicks out!
Ragnar rolls away as Hoskuld quickly gets to his feet. Hoskuld dodges a punch by Boris, grabs him, lifts him up into a press slam position, and hurls Boris from the ring!
Sanchez: "What the heck? I would never imagine that Hoskuld could do that!"
Silverfield: "His biology is different from everyone around him. He does weight as much as Boris despite his small frame. We're just not supposed to talk about it. Remember?"
Hoskuld stuns Ragnar with a punch, lifting him into position for a piledriver. Ragnar tries to break free, but is dropped on his head. Hoskuld rolls him over for the cover.
One...Two...Ragnar kicks out!
Hoskuld stands up, but is grabbed by a returning Boris. He's lifted high into the air for a-
Sanchez: "Sea of Red! Sea of Red! This could be finished right here!"
Silverfield: "It's not over yet!"
Boris drops to his knees to go for the pinfall when Ragnar applies a picture perfect sleeperhold, with his knees using the small of Boris's back as support instead of the mat.
Sanchez: "Ragnar full of surprises tonight! First, it seems as if he doesn't know much about wrestling, then this!"
Silverfield: "You know the move. I would say that Father Nathan's been busy in getting Ragnar ready for his debut match."
Boris stands up, trying to reach Ragnar to knock him off, but can't quite reach. He jumps into the air, intending to land on his back, but Ragnar drops off to allow Boris to land on the back of his head. He quickly covers Hoskuld while Boris is stunned.
One...Two...Three!
Sanchez: "Ragnar's done it! He's won his debut match here in GWG!"
Silverfield: "Dasha isn't going to be very pleased with this result as she was trying to show that the Russians were a power here in Vesperia to be feared and respected."
Sanchez: "I would say that Ragnar won't soon forget the power of Boris Drago. Besides, I heard that a orcish raiding party managed to get all the way here and Boris helped defeat them. After that, he was helping some of the poorer folks rebuild."
Silverfield: "True. A war party has on occasion worked their way through the mountains to get around the Wall and slowly make their way here. They're normally stopped long before they can get near the capital, but their leader must have been smart. I wonder if they took him down or if he escaped?"
Sanchez: "We'll find out soon enough I'm sure. An orc can't go that long without attacking somebody, right?"
Silverfield: "Ha! That's a bit racist, but fairly true."
Archery Competition
Wilson: "If you will direct your attention one last time to the screens above to the side chamber. There, we will be having the archery competition between two of Vesperia's finest archers!"
The screens light up to reveal the side chamber as people finish getting to their seats.
Wilson: "First up, from the village of Thrunt in the Duchy of Renal, Tobias Staats!"
A short, rather scrawny man in a light brown tunic and brown leggings with cropped short brown hair raises a bow over his head to the cheers of the crowd.
Silverfield: "Tobias Staats is renowned throughout Vesperia and beyond for his long range talents. He was on with many journeys with Vesperian trading vessels to Valaria, Tentaria, Dalamar, and Yaarador. Legend has it that he managed to take down Captain Skabbins the Crusher with an arrow through the left eye before the ships even came into a decent range for the ballistae. So the battle was essentially won before it even started. He's also renown for being able to get a hail of arrows in the sky on his own."
Sanchez: "That sounds pretty epic!"
Wilson: "And he will be facing from the Wall...Makolm Alsgaard!"
A large brute of a man in chain mail armor over leather with bare legs. He may have a tunic, but you can't see it under the armor. His head is shaved bald and he is layered with scars.
Silverfield: "Makolm was born in the middle of a battle on the top of the Wall. Legend has it that his mother was slain while she was in labor and that an archer cut him out. He came out of her belly, seized an arrow from the archer, and slew his mother's killer when he used his own umbilical cord to let the arrow fly."
Sanchez: "That sounds a bit far fetched..."
Silverfield: "You do know what Legends are, right?"
Sanchez: "I do."
Wilson: "The first stage of the night will shooting arrows into a garland of vines that is twelve inches at the diameter. We will begin at a short range for six shots then move to a long range for six shots. One point will be awarded for each shot that lands inside of the garland. Tobias Staats will go first."
Tobias Staats stands in the shooting range with his bow, drinking in the cheers of the fans.
Sanchez: "I find it interesting that a Vesperian isn't one of the two out there tonight."
Silverfield: "These are the very best in the empire, better than even the best Vesperian archer. Though it is surprising that no one called in a favor."
The crowd goes silent as Tobias draws his first arrow. They cheer as each shot thunks into the wooden partician inside of the garland and go silent when he moves onto his next shot. Only the fourth shot of six goes slightly astray, piercing through the garland instead of going inside of it.
Wilson: "Five points for Tobias Staats! A fine start to this contest! Next up, Makolm Alsgaard!"
Makolm gets into position, looking at the garland with distaste.
Sanchez: "Why does Makolm look at the target like that?"
Silverfield: "He's probably disappointed that he's not firing at war criminals."
Sanchez: "For real?"
Silverfield: "Life is harsh at the Wall."
Makolm methodically let's loose six arrows, each one striking the target inside of the garland. He grunts with a grimace, heading back to his station so that the next target can be set up.
Wilson: "A perfect run! Six points for Makolm to begin this contest!"
The arrows are grabbed and returned to their owners as the garland is being taken down to be moved to the long range. Tobias Staats takes his position with a smile.
Quick as a flash, Tobias looses six arrows that each strike the target inside of the garland. The crowd cheers as he sinks his last arrow.
Wilson: "Six points for Tobias to bring him up to eleven points! Let's see what Makolm can do at this range!"
Makolm Alsgaard steps up to his position with a scowl, readying his first arrow.
With practiced ease, Makolm sinks all six arrows into the target.
Wilson: "And Makolm continues his perfect score to bring him to twelve points! Next we will do the wand challenge. A stake will be put into the ground to be shot at. Points will be given for hitting the target and a further point for the arrow remaining in the target."
Tobias Staats waits as the garland is being taken down to be replaced by a stake that is six feet tall and three inches wide. Tobias draws his first arrow with a smile.
The first three shots strike the wand and remain stuck in place. The fourth shots missed the target. The fifth shot strikes, but falls out. The sixth shot strikes and remains in place.
Wilson: "A good run for Tobias! Nine additional points to bring his running total to twenty! Can Makolm continue his perfect streak?"
Makolm Alsgaard steps up, smirking at Tobias as the Renallian walks away.
Makolm's second shot goes wide of the target, but every other arrow hits home and stays in the wand.
Wilson: "Not a perfect round for Makolm, but he does add ten points to his score to bring him up to twenty-two points! The wand is being moved to the long range now with Makolm leading over Tobias by two points!"
Tobias gets into position once the wand is moved, letting his arrows fly quickly. All of them strike the wand with only the first arrow falling back out of the wand. Tobias raises his bow over his head with a smile.
Wilson: "Eleven points for Tobias to bring his total up to thirty-one!"
Makolm Alsgaard gets into position, though this time, he is sure to run his shoulder into Tobias on his way.
Alsgaard: "Watch yourself, Renallian."
Makolm let's his arrows fly, but misses three of his shots. The three that strike remain in the wand. He lets out a curse in Harador as he walks away from the station.
Wilson: "Makolm scores six points to bring his total to twenty-eight! Now Tobias is leading by three points! The next event will be the Circle! A circle is placed on the ground at a long range for the archers to aim arrows through the air. There will be six shots with two points being scored for each shot that lands within the target."
Tobias points his bow skywards, letting loose his arrows. Three of the arrows strike their target within the circle. Tobias nods with a smile as the arrows are being returned to him. He looks over at Makolm with a laugh.
Staats: "Beat that, barbarian!"
Wilson: "Tobias scores six points to bring his total up to thirty-seven!"
Makolm steps into position, scowling at Tobias as he does so. He points his bow up, but not quite so high as Tobias did. Four of his six shots strike the target. He grins at Tobias, who just shrugs.
Wilson: "Makolm scores eight points this time around to bring his total up to thirty-six, just a point down from Tobias! The next will feature both archers standing side by side to see who can shoot their arrow the furthest! The one who does so will score three points. It's still anyone's game, folks!"
Tobias smiles as Makolm walks over to stand next to him with a growl.
Sanchez: "What kind of ranges are we looking at here?"
Silverfield: "An average Vesperian bow can send an arrow about four hundred yards. The bows they carry are anything, but average."
Tobias slings his first arrow with a smile. One thousand four hundred and twenty-four yards!
Makolm sends his first arrow through the air. One thousand four hundred and thirty-three yards!
Wilson: "After the first shot, Makolm is winning!"
Staats: "I was just getting warmed up. Watch this one!"
Tobias pulls his arrow back, a look of determination on his face as he draws back as far as he can. He looses the arrow with a shout. One thousand six hundred and twenty-five yards!
Sanchez: "Holy crap!"
Silverfield: "That was a long shot."
Makolm draws his arrow back with a grimace before letting it loose. One thousand five hundred and thirty-three yards!
Wilson: "Tobias in the lead! Last shot coming up!"
Tobias let's loose his last arrow, letting a whoop when it lands. One thousand eight hundred and forty yards!
Staats: "Beat that!"
Makolm grits his teeth, drawing one more arrow. One thousand eight hundred and forty-five yards!
Wilson: "Makolm Alsgaard has shot the furthest and is thus awarded three points to bring him up to thirty-nine points to Tobias having thirty-seven. The final challenge is the speed challenge where the archers will be given one point per arrow fired over the course of a minute."
Makolm walks off the range to allow Tobias to go first, but not before punching Tobias in the shoulder with a rough laugh.
Alsgaard: "You won't win this challenge, Renallian. We Harador make superior archers."
Staats: "Superior at killing mindless orcs, goblins, ogres, and the like. We Renallians are superior."
Sanchez: "How many arrows can an archer normally send out in a minute?"
Silverfield: "The normal archer is suggested to keep their rate down to six per minute, but they can do many more. It's just that during the course of a battle, shooting out too many arrows at a pace can wear the archer out. They normally carry about sixty to seventy-two arrows into battle at a time with younger soldiers running supplies."
Staats: "You know what, Alsgaard? Why don't you go first this time?"
Makolm narrows his eyes, but takes his place to get ready to fire.
Wilson: "Go!"
Makolm begins firing arrows quickly, one after the other until a horn sounds for him to stop.
Wilson: "Makolm has fired nineteen arrows in a minute! This brings Makolm to fifty-eight points! To win, Tobias will have to fire more than twenty-one arrows!"
Tobias cracks his neck with a laugh.
Staats: "This is where we separate the men from the boys."
Tobias begins firing arrows, his hands like a blur as the bowstring seemingly never stops vibrating. Forty-two arrows!
Wilson: "The winner of the archery competition...Tobias Staats!"
Sanchez: "Wow! That was just...wow."
Silverfield: "It has been said that Tobias can make his own volley of arrows. He just proved it tonight in winning."
Sanchez: "I know you said it early on, but watching it is a whole 'nother thing!"
Makolm Alsgaard puts his bow away with a growl, walking toward Tobias Staats. Tobias looks up at Makolm, not saying anything. Makolm looks at him for a long time before begrudgingly putting out his hand.
Alsgaard: "The better archer won. Today."
Tobias grins, taking the hand.
Staats: "You are an amazing archer. You should come with me on a journey on a ship someday so we can shoot some pirates!"
Alsgaard: "And you to the Wall."
Staats: "Sounds like fun!"
The fans begin making their way back to their normal seats as the screens fade.
Sanchez: "I thought for sure that Makolm was going to punch Tobias in the face."
Silverfield: "You watch too much pro wrestling."
Sanchez: "Really?"
Silverfield: "It's a joke!"
Sanchez: "I know, but a poor one!"
World Championship
Wilson: "Ladies and gentlemen, we have come to the main event of the evening! This final match of the night is for the Glorious Wrestling Guild World Championship! Featuring first the challenger, from the Cakesphere? Cakeworld? Wait...yo' mommas? Who wrote this?"
Sanchez: "I'm thinking Clowny wrote his own intro, MaLisha. Just announce his name."
Wilson: "He is Mr. Clowny!"
Mr. Clowny comes out from the back, dancing to music that's only in his head. He makes his way down to the ring as people stare at him.
Silverfield: "We have Jesters or Fools here, but not so much in the way of clowns. It's a brand new experience for these people."
Sanchez: "I heard that he doesn't have his cake powers anymore. They must have required a direct connection to the source of the powers."
Silverfield: "Ah. That would be like a priest of our world that worshiped a living god that was trapped on your world. Without a connection to his god, his powers would be gone."
Mr. Clowny dances about the ring, squeezing his nose for the familiar *honk* sound. He gooses the ref when she isn't looking, causing her to jump into the air. She turns around and scolds him, threatening to disqualify him before the match even starts.
Sanchez: "Clowny getting real familiar with the ref there."
Silverfield: "Disgusting behavior."
Wilson: "And his opponent, the GWG World champion...Dasha!"
Dasha comes out from the back to a smattering of boos from the fans. She sneers at a few close fans, also exiles from Earth, before heading down to the ring. She looks at Mr. Clowny with utter loathing as she stretches before the bell rings to start the match.
Sanchez: "Dasha looks like she'd rather shoot Mr. Clowny than wrestle him in the ring."
Silverfield: "It's the Imperiousness in Dasha. She feels that she's above the foolish antics of Clowny. Even without the magical powers, I'm sure he has some antics up his sleeve."
As the bell rings to start the match, Clowny greets Dasha in the center of the ring with an arm drag. Then another one. Then another one! He slips behind he as she gets up with a Russian curse to hit an atomic drop. He moves to follow this up with a bulldog when Dasha lifts him up using his momentum and slams Clowny onto his back. She waits for him to sit up, kicking him square in the face to send him back to the mat with a loud *honk*.
Sanchez: "A brutal kick right in the clown nose!"
Silverfield: "Dasha had told Father Nathan that she wasn't going to hold back."
Dasha drags Clowny to his feet, but he grabs her with a fireman's carry that he turns into an airplane spin, and drops her to the mat. Clowny runs to the ropes, coming back to leap into the air for a Whoopie Cushion splash. Dasha rolls out of the way so that Clowny lands on his butt. He rolls onto his side, twitching in pain as he reaches at his behind.
Dasha grabs Clowny by the throat with both hands for a choke. She holds it for a few seconds before delivering several vicious headbutts.
*Honk!*
*Honk!*
*HONK!*
The ref yells at Dasha until she releases the choke. Clowny rolls away, clutching at his throat to try to regain his breath and knocking his rubber nose away to wipe the blood away.
Clowny gets back up, but is grabbed by Dasha for a snap suplex. She follows this up with a Sanbo joint lock on Clowny's shoulder. Clowny let's out a stream of anguished words that only come out as *honk*s.
Silverfield: "Where do those honks come from now? The nose is on the other side of the ring."
Sanchez: "No idea. Dasha looks like she just about has Clowny's shoulder dislocated."
Clowny gets a foot on the ropes, causing the ref to force Dasha to break the hold. Dasha does so, then rips Clowny off of the mat, lifting him up, and bringing him down for a Spinebuster.
Dasha gets up, motioning for Clowny to rise, but he doesn't. She shrugs, applying a Sanbo Calf Crush. Clowny tries to reach for the ropes, but finds that he's in the middle of the ring.
Sanchez: "It doesn't look like Clowny can fight his way out of this one."
Silverfield: "Then he better give up or else find his way to the local Healer because he'll be broken."
Mr. Clowny tries to break out, but finds that he cannot easily do so. You could almost see the light bulb flash over his head as he manages to reach up with his finger and-
Sanchez: "OH MY GOD! Clowny just tried to violate Dasha's butt through her pants!"
Silverfield: "What is wrong with him?"
Dasha breaks the hold, spouting a stream of Russian curses. She grabs Clowny by the ear as he sits up and hits the Iron Fist right over the heart. She perches on his hips and hits the move three more times before going for the cover.
One...Two...Three!
Sanchez: "Yeah...we should have a Healer summoned."
Silverfield: "Probably a good idea."
Dasha raises the GWG World title belt over her head in victory to a round of boos from the crowd. She sneers at them before heading to the back.
Silverfield: "Is there really going to be anyone who can challenge Dasha for the World title?"
Sanchez: "Unless more people come sign up? I have my doubts. Maybe once Ragnar gets a bit more training."
Silverfield: "That's all the time we have tonight, ladies and gentlemen. Join us for the first episode of Glorious Wrestling Guild's Forge. We'll be coming to you live from the Southern Glory Arena at Salbalast. It's a major Vesperian port city on the Southern Coast of the Duchy of Renallia."