The Legacy of the Tournament of Champions (IC)

[Olthar]

OOC Thread

---

Champion Colusseum, 1123^th year of the mechana calendar

Far out in the middle of the ocean, there floats an artificial island of stone, metal, and bizarre materials known only to the mechana. It is a perfect circle nearly five miles in diameter with the internal structures arranged in radial sections.

The outer ring is divided into eleven equal parts separated by walls and gates and function as temporary housing for the people who've come to watch the Tournament. The structures are all of mechana construction but attempt to replicate the traditional homes of the different factions, only being mostly successful. Of course, some sections, like the ones for elementals and oozes, tend to be perpetually empty as they don't show up to watch.

The middle ring, also divided by faction, contains various stores and services for both the audience members and participants to provide all they need. The default options are all run by the mechana and trade in scraps of metal, but most factions set up their own unofficial stalls that deal in actual currency.

The center ring is very similar to the first, but houses the participants in the Tournament, instead, and tends to have better accommodations. The mechana contestants, however, are not present in this ring as they are put up in the Colusseum, proper.

Finally, in the center of the island, is the Champion Colusseum, a huge structure half a mile wide and 40 stories tall. It has hundreds of thousands of seats, evenly divided among the eleven factions, as mechana never actually watch the Tournament. The field in the center is a quarter mile wide and can be changed to a variety of stages and environments using giant moving platforms that sink into and rise from the ground. Above the field, are large, floating panes of glass the mechana call a "Jumbotron" that somehow show moving pictures of the field in a larger image so that the audience can more easily see it. Covering the entire Colusseum is a huge, domed roof that can open and close under its own power.

Every year since the mechana arrived on Tournia, they've held the Tournament of Champions at this bizarre, fantastical place. It is always held at the same time of year in late spring/early summer when the rains have stopped but it's not yet too hot. Most people reach Champion Colusseum by boat, the outer ring being surrounded by docks and piers. Though, some factions, like the angels, choose to fly there, instead. The contestants, on the other hand, arrive at the Tournament in a wholly different manner...

The time has come for another Tournament of Champions, and the beginning of this one happens just the same as the rest: individuals from around the world start disappearing, teleported to Champion Colusseum without foreknowledge or warning, and often without consent. All participants save those from the mechana, themselves, are chosen, abducted, and forced to participate. Now, most people enjoy being chosen and crave the fame and fortune of the Tournament. They are allowed to freely roam the island, but the rest remain Locked in their rooms until it's their turn to fight.

This year's Tournament has just begun, and the participants have just been chosen. Elsa Rothman and Lothran Corronis are teleported to rooms that resemble the ancient structures of the Necropolis with blackened sandstone walls, dusty floors, and no windows or furniture other than a portrait of the Mummy Pharaoh that she insisted be installed in all rooms after the first Tournament. Thist is teleported to a room with moss and vine covered walls, large windows on one side to let in the morning light, and a big red button that dispenses live chickens whenever pushed. The entire room is also flooded with a half foot of algae-filled water.

All three rooms have one of the mechana's strange, magic-but-not-magic screens near the currently locked door that sparks to life moments after the rooms' occupants arrive. They all display the same thing, both in written text and in monotone audio:

"GREETINGS, CITIZEN OF TOURNIA. YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED TO PARTICIPATE IN THE TOURNAMENT OF CHAMPIONS. DOES THIS PLEASE YOU?"

Meanwhile, deep within the bowels of Champion Colusseum, Cedric and Winthrop are teleported in under different circumstances. Like all Mechana participants, they willingly decided to enter the Tournament for whatever their individual reasons. As such, they are not greeted with a screen and their doors are already unlocked. Their rooms are bare and spartan to the extreme, being little more than dark closets with charging stations and auto-repair centers. The rooms are located in Sublevel 1 under the contestant training and preparation room. The entire sublevel is isolated and blocked off from going anywhere else in the Colusseum but the prep room.

[G-Tech Corporation]

The familiar whizz-zap of the teleportation sequence faded away, and Winthrop's voice faltered. "...as you can see.."

Bugger. Was it that time already? They could have given him a little more warning, at least, but no- that would be far too simple. Right out of a board meeting in Richardsgrad, feh. The Gamesmasters decided precisely when festivities would start, but eh, they were never precise about the starting time itself except for when the contestants had already been pulled in.

"Bugger", said Winthrop out loud, reflecting his internal monologue with action because that is what regular people do. It was part of the habits the Scion was working to develop, something about seeming more human and less like a soulless automaton. Of course, that would be a lie, but a lie agreed upon between friends was of the utmost value in many ways.

Spartan. Not that the word meant much to the denizens of this existence, since Sparta wasn't actually a thing. But it was the best phrase the Orator could come up with for his habitation. Meant for machine-men more than men who happened to be machines, but ah well. The door opened with a wave of one mottled flesh-colored claw, and off the dapper destroyer trudged towards the prep room. Time to see who was up against what. Hopefully there would be some interesting contestants this year.

[Labstoska]

Lothran Corronis
"Oh screw you!" This was Lothran's first exclamation as he slowly came back to consciousness and managed to slowly shamble across his room and observe the awful conditions that had been provided for him, he had spent the past few centuries attempting to get away from the dammed necropolis and the equally-dammed-if-not-more-so pharaoh, he had even gone so far as to create his own immortal court in order to show the Pharaoh that she wasn't the coolest kid in the wasteland and that colour is still a thing that exists even if one is undead. Now by yet another cruel twist of fate Lothran had been forced to dwell in the wasteland or rather an imitation of it's bleak depressing nature.

Suddenly a great mechanical voice echoed throughout Lothran's room "GREETINGS, CITIZEN OF TOURNIA. YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED TO PARTICIPATE IN THE TOURNAMENT OF CHAMPIONS. DOES THIS PLEASE YOU?" Lothran thought for a few moments, he assumed that whatever reply he issued would be heard through some dark Mechana sorcery and he didn't know if he was ever going to get another chance to issue another complaint, he had to make this one count. Lothran cleared his voice and began "well I am rather happy about actually being apart of the tournament; untold riches, unimaginable treasures all that stuff however the living conditions are... to put mildly an utter shit show, first of all would it really be so hard for you to appreciate that maybe not all of the undead appreciate her enduring majesty as much as she wants you to think , secondly this bleak depressing atheistic I already get enough of it out in the wastes and so perhaps adding a bit of colour variety would be nice, and finally what about food I have no idea how to get it and despite the fact that it's not particularly a necessity some of us undead still like to elaborately fantasise that we are still mortal!"

Lothran then paced around the room, his mind retreating and allowing his subconscious to take over all matters concerning the external universe . Slowly he began to form a number of scenarios in his mind concerning the tournament and how he may win, of course the amount of times he wins compared to the amount of times he looses was rather depressing and oddly enough most of these scenarios ended with him being consumed by an ooze yet the one or two scenarios in which he actually managed to survive gave him a small glimmer of hope

[Olthar]

Winthrop

When he reached the training and preparation room, Winthrop would find himself one of the first ones there. There were only a couple other mechana realigning their targeting parameters or practicing against simulated opponents. The rest of the factions had only just arrived and weren't yet freely exploring the island.

The prep "room" was actually more of a massive hall with eight dozen individual practice areas, one dozen per floor with a large opening in the middle of the hall, allowing easy flight access between the floors. The ground level also contained an arms and equipment requisition room in case a contestant arrived without their gear (which happened often), and in the middle of the hall there was a large screen that displayed all the matchups between battlers in the current round.

---

Lothran Corronis

After Lothran answered the question posed to him by the strange mechana device, the screen went dark, and there was an audible click from his door. It seemed that the mechana did not consider him a flight risk and unlocked the door to allow exploration. But what lay beyond his small room?

---

Jonna Moonborn

Jonna Moonborn was teleported into a room with crude, wooden walls, a dirt floor, and a window to let in the late afternoon sun. In one corner of the room, there was a soft bed made of some weird, squishy material and rough linen blankets. In the other corner, there was a counter with a metal water dispenser embedded into it next to a large metal cabinet that was somehow cold inside and stocked with food. Finally, there was a smaller room adjacent to this one that had a metal chair with a bowl instead of a seat that was filled with water.

Jonna didn't understand anything she saw and didn't even know how she had come to be here. Before she could think too long about it, however, she was greeted by the unemotive voice of the mechana not-magic window. She was never a fan of the Tournament and was not terribly thrilled at being part of a no doubt rigged mechana contest, but she was always one to go with the flow. The young werewolf shrugged her shoulders and answered with a lazy, "Sure," and her door was soon opened. Jonna, though, did not leave her room just yet. She was far more interested in that food in the weird metal cabinet.

---

Douglas the Dimetrodon

Douglas was teleported into a room designed to look like a tropical rainforest. It was much larger than most contestant rooms, being roughly 3,000 square feet in size with an 80 foot ceiling. The walls were covered in bark, and numerous trees filled the room. The floor was covered in dirt and ferns. On one side of the room, there was a small, metal hatch that periodically opened and released a live chicken into the room. There were already four wandering around in the shrubbery.

Shortly after Douglas's arrival, the screen by the door sparked to life and asked him the same question that it had asked everyone else.

[Grenartia]

Thist is teleported to a room with moss and vine covered walls, large windows on one side to let in the morning light, and a big red button that dispenses live chickens whenever pushed. The entire room is also flooded with a half foot of algae-filled water.

All three rooms have one of the mechana's strange, magic-but-not-magic screens near the currently locked door that sparks to life moments after the rooms' occupants arrive. They all display the same thing, both in written text and in monotone audio:

"GREETINGS, CITIZEN OF TOURNIA. YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED TO PARTICIPATE IN THE TOURNAMENT OF CHAMPIONS. DOES THIS PLEASE YOU?"

Thist gave a sigh, as they contemplated the conditions they found themself in. Their socks were undountedly ruined, and their boots probably were, too. And while they could eat an entire live chicken at once, they had come to enjoy freshly cooked ones. Carlotta and Mitch had raised them to not be picky, but at the same time, they figured as long as they were in the Tournament, and they were being asked if they liked the conditions, they should be honest, and try and get ones they like better.

"I'm honored to have been chosen, and I realize most other oozes live in conditions like this, but I'm not like other oozes. I've learned to enjoy the human and elven lifestyles. Could I please have a room and food fitting those conditions?"

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

Elsa Rothman
Tournament of Champions

Elsa knew she was chosen as one of the participants. What she didn't know is how she would be chosen, or kidnapped without her concern or opinion on the kidnapping process. She arrived, teleported, to this strange room. A strange room, one that resemble Necropolis. One with black walls, dusty floors (as she kicked around it) and no windows or furniture other than the portrait of the Mummy Pharaoh herself. Hmm, looks weird that she's here in portrayal. But oh well, perhaps there may have been a shining bright light of beacon in all this, right?

The silver lining, and all that. A voice was heard, a Mechana's. "GREETINGS, CITIZEN OF TOURNIA. YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED TO PARTICIPATE IN THE TOURNAMENT OF CHAMPIONS. DOES THIS PLEASE YOU?" Tournia is a terrible name, to be honest. Can't they settle with just Tourney? Tournia looks cool, but not cool. "I'm...fine with this, new place of lodging that you provide to me. Yes," she obliged, answered politely. Well, polite is the answer to go.

[Labstoska]

Lothran Corranis
Well that was surprising, the door had actually opened revealing a dark corridor, unfortunately his room had not miraculously transformed into a paradise of untold luxury yet Lothran would take what he could get. Now that the door had actually been opened Lothran was faced with a particular dilemma, it was not often in life that Lothran had something simply given to him and Lothran doubted that the oh so high and mighty Mechana would build any kind of large pool and spa just for the convenience of the Celestial emperor. He would have to enter this next corridor with upmost caution and paranoia.


Lothran inched closer and closer towards the room's exit, the mounting dread growing as he approached it. After what seemed like an eternity of inching he finally reached the precipice, beyond lay a corridor of darkness and possible horrors, the enduring celestial emperor took three deep breaths, wondered if it was possible for the undead to die and slowly raised his leg extended it out into the corridor and placed his foot down, taking his first steps into the eldritch domain of the corridor.

[Olthar]

Lothran Corranis

Upon leaving his room, Lothran would find himself in a hallway of metal: metal floor, metal walls, metal ceiling. Strange, flameless lights lined the walls, illuminating the hallway. There were dozens of other doors, almost like it was an inn. Many of those doors were also opening, and numerous other undead beings were walking out of their rooms and heading towards the exits. It was a veritable who's who of the most powerful beings in the Wastes. Even the Mummy Pharaoh, herself, could be seen confidently striding away, Sebek following behind like a loyal dog.

Lothran couldn't yet see it, but if he were to leave the undead contestant boarding, he would find himself within the third ring of the island. To the south lay the second ring and all its merchants (though the undead section was rather empty and bare), and to the north lay Champion Colusseum.

---

Elsa Rothman

As soon as Elsa answered the question, her door unlocked itself as if by magic. If she were to leave, she would find herself in the same hallway in which Lothran now stood.

[Labstoska]

Lothran Corronis
As Lothran stepped out into the dreaded corridor he sighed with relief, fortunately the Mechana did not have any sadistic tortures in mind for him(yet) however as Lothran looked around the corridor a much worse circumstance presented itself. If Lothran still had a nose it would be sufficiently wrinkled in disgust, if there was one thing in unlife that Lothran could not stand it was other undead, a mixture of idiots and bitter aristocrats. Lothran also noticed that the tournament had really gone all out this year on undead celebrities, he was able to pick out among the crowd; Garagoth the butcher of Nideros, Sendath the royal necromancer and even Arkoth the only being to ever be brought back twice.

Then Lothran noticed the Pharaoh and wished that he could still have heart attacks, it would save him from an awful lot of pain as contestants were not formally allowed to kill one another outside the arena and yet as seen as the Pharaoh was very insistent that all undead obey her and Lothran had quite literally declared himself celestial emperor, he had a feeling that she wasn't particularly fond of him, so although he could not be murdered Lothran had never read the rules concerning horrible debilitating injuries being inflicted on an opponent. He quickly turned on his heels and speed walked through the exit opposite to the direction the Pharaoh was heading.

[G-Tech Corporation]

The hulking construct stalked forward into the training room, too-human eyes sweeping over the competition that was mechanically inclined.

A thousand years the machines had been upon this world, and yet their warforms still seemed uninventive. Efficient, certainly, durable, quite, but hardly daring. There was more creativity in the little finger of a dull giant than in most of the Mechana that occupied this world, for reasons which Winthrop was still ill-placed to fathom. They had accepted him, but he still did not understand them in truth.

Not that it mattered at this juncture. Right now there was time for no thought, and instead rigor of the physical. Negotiating mining rights out of petty feudal barons had its place in a man's life, but it did little for the sword-arm or a fellow's aim with a weapon of stuttering death. From beneath the silken waistcoat that adorned his frame the Scion produced the Orator, and he stalked thence to the practice yards.

Its maw streamed prismatic destruction. In his hand was entropy, and the memory of doom. And bugger if it didn't pull up and to the right a fraction when it fired full power, just a touch off center. Fiddlesticks. A part of the Walker's mind observed the other mechanical contestants and their attributes as another part of the madman's psyche worked to calibrate the weapon's paroxial inhibiter to account for the recoil.

[Constaniana]

Douglas the Dimetrodon did not answer the initial question upon finding himself in a strange new jungle. Perhaps he would have if he was literate, but at the moment the movement of the chickens piqued his interest more. They moved in a similar way to some of the newfangled species on Dinosaur Island. And if they thought the same way as those other beasts then they formed the most vicious packs. Time was of the essence if their menacing flood was to be contained. So Douglas sneaked over to where the fiendish quartet was pecking in the dirt, let out a fearless roar, and pounced on the nearest one. The chicken's neck snapped under the weight of claws landing on it, and the other three took to the air. They barrel-rolled and dove around him, swinging their large talons all the while. Douglas smacked one behind him with his mighty tail, hurling it across the room towards the doorway. Its unconscious body slammed into the magic screen. The dimetrodon let out a roar of approval.

[Olthar]

Thist

Upon hearing Thist's answer, the door to their room unlocked, just like all the others. However, also just like all the others, it could only be opened via a handle. Apparently, the mechana never actually considered the possibility of intelligent oozes to make special accommodations for them.

Nevertheless, if Thist found a way to open the door, they'd find an empty and bare metal hallway, the floor elevated above the water level in the room.

---

Lothran Corronis

As Lothran left the housing building, he'd notice that the other undead were leaving him, and each other, alone. Due to numerous ancient rivalries and slights, there were lots of dirty looks and angry expressions, even a few snide remarks, but they all seemed more intent on not breaking the rules of the Tournament. Whether they wanted the prize or feared the mechana was uncertain.

Reaching the outdoors, Lothran would see that it was early morning, and the sun was barely rising over the horizon, not that the time of day meant much to undead anymore. To the south, there was the market, the mechana stores and undead stalls already open. The stores primarily sold weapons, armor, and souvenirs, assuming Lothran had thought to bring pieces of scrap metal with him when he was suddenly and unexpectedly teleported here.

In the north, Champion Colusseum loomed over the rest of the island, a titanic structure unlike any else in the world. The Pharaoh Mummy did have a pyramid built in the wastes that was larger than it to show her dominance, but the Colusseum still seemed like a much more impressive structure somehow. There were two clearly visible entrances: the bigger one for the audience, and the smaller one for the contestants that lead to the training and preparation room.

---

Winthrop

As Winthrop practiced his aim, several participants from the other factions began slowly funneling in. Primarily, the humans, giants, fairies, and monsters were showing up. The other factions tended to be either too arrogant to train or too stupid to train.

---

Douglas The Dimetrodon

After a minute without an answer, the screen in Douglas's room shut off, and his door remained locked. It seemed the mechana considered him too unintelligent to allow him to wander around the island. However, when the chicken hit the screen, it turned back on through some unknown sorcery. The automated system then falsely registered the dinosaur's roar as an affirmative answer and unlocked the door with an audible click. Of course, like with the ooze rooms, the door had only a handle for opening.

[G-Tech Corporation]

With the sixteenth successfully vaporized target with tolerances marginal, Winthrop was satisfied. Teleportation was an imprecise science at the best of times, and he was still getting a handle on how the denizens of this reality treated it- or rather, if they were competent or not. So far, so good. A minor alignment corrected, just in time for new arrivals to begin filtering in from their chambers, which were more distant than those assigned to himself and the other mechanical beings.

Humans. Bog standard. Some of them looked to possess some measure of magical ability or martial prowess, but more or less inconsequential.

Giants. More serious. Even the Scion would feel a clubbing from the right hands, and though they were dimwitted, brute strength had a nasty tendency historically to lay low even the most impressive of plans. The Germans learned that the hard way at Kursk; even if you traded five to one with your foe, the sixth Russian still as drunk as a bastard and yelling "urra!" would be enough to put you in the ground. And some of these giants were probably stupid enough not to even know they were dead, which was right dicey.

Fairies. Pompous, but mystical. Discarded out of hand. Enchantments powerful enough to harm the eldritch starstuff the Walker had taken for his own corporeal form were not worth worrying about, mainly because the Orator could hardly do anything about them. Note to self: pack flyswatter in gear.

And monsters. A mixed bag. Some were killy, no doubt, others harmless. He would have to treat them carefully. A slavering werekin could be easily dealt with, but some of the more esoteric beasts might have tricks he hadn't encountered before.

Picking a human knight out of the crowd, Winthrop hurried over to the dour well-mustachioed man, nodding diffidently and pulling a broadsword he had "acquired" earlier from his belt.

"Care for a spot of sparring, sirrah?"

It wasn't likely he would learn anything, but movement kept the voices from getting too playful, and it helped focus the mind, the repetition of close quarters combat.

[Grenartia]

Thist

Upon hearing Thist's answer, the door to their room unlocked, just like all the others. However, also just like all the others, it could only be opened via a handle. Apparently, the mechana never actually considered the possibility of intelligent oozes to make special accommodations for them.

Nevertheless, if Thist found a way to open the door, they'd find an empty and bare metal hallway, the floor elevated above the water level in the room.

"That's pretty damn rude, not even responding to my question." Thist thought to themself. They heard a click come from the door, which was odd, so they reached for the handle to open it, to see if anything was wrong with it. It opened, which made them curious about what that clicking noise was. Nevertheless, they figured it was some sort of Mechana wizardry or something, and after making sure they were properly in Elven form, left the room and walked down the hall. After a while of wandering, they saw others, carrying weapons, and decided to follow them, since they were probably fellow contestants. The others ultimately came to a training room inside the Colosseum.

"Perfect," they thought to themself. "Now I can practice before the competition." Spotting an archery range, they began firing away at the targets.

[The Knockout Gun Gals]

---

Elsa Rothman

As soon as Elsa answered the question, her door unlocked itself as if by magic. If she were to leave, she would find herself in the same hallway in which Lothran now stood.

Elsa Rothman

Elsa saw that a door was opened. A door that was, in fact, located in front of her. It seems that her...response proved to be fruitful, and this is the fruit. Well, better than nothing, she guessed. She walked to the direction of the door, and to her surprise, many undeads were outside, as well as the Pharaoh herself. "Well, this seems nice," she muttered. It is understandable if she wanted to go out to the direction of the Pharaoh, but she decided to do that, following the direction of the other undeads.

[Constaniana]

The remaining two chickens both looked at the doorway in alarm at the clicking sound, fearing yet another attacker and the distraction proved their undoing. Douglas slashed at them in rapid succession, and then set about eating his prey. He missed the seasoned meats his humans at college would feed him, especially the kind with eleven herbs and spices. Still a bit peckish and not aware that he would he constantly fed in here, the dimetrodon trotted over to the door and ate the last chicken. Douglas dimly remembered the concept of opening door handles. He had learned that trick in college so he could break into people's rooms whenever there were stockings on the doorknob.

The mighty reptile clasped the door handle with his right paw and turned it, grinning as it swung open into a new hallway. Perhaps there would be water or more tasty food down this way, and so he set off exploring.