Dawn of Champions [IC Thread]

[The Rapture Republic]

OOC thread

Dawn of Champions

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Year: 2250

The Factory dimension simulated by Rapture’s Engineers has been established successfully without any abnormalities happening. When forming the dimension to host the battle tournament, where many will make this place there graves. The dimension is designed as scorching volcanic hellscape with boiling magma hotter than the surface of the sun, though not as tense, where you could feel your face bursting into flames, only tense if you actively tried to get close or throw yourself in the oceans of molten rock. Landscape of the volcanic hellscape was mountainous with volcanoes everywhere erupting constantly releasing poisonous gases into the extremely hostile atmosphere, where electromagnetic storms that would pound the surface with starfighter-sized lighting bolts leaving craters after the electric bombardment that happens every 20 minutes, the only infrastructure was the Factorium, constructed for the gladiators to use as platform to battle and use various levels of the building for snipping positions to target their opponents and using the machinery in the factorium for their own advantages, as this place was a model after the standard mining mills to extract minerals from beneath the crust and the inferno seas.

Now, before everyone started to arrive by the set instructions provided to them by the Chancellor of the Rapture Republic. Some who cannot use space travel or create portals will come to the enter the base from stargates nearby the landing platforms for spacecraft to gather and listen to a holographic VictorNet give some additional information before scattering and seeing who comes out the victor. None shall worry for the Chancellor to participate no, for this fight is to be fair and not end before it started by a literal “Machine God” appearing in the scene.

Otherwise, the infamous Patient Zero will be the acting gladiator representing the country of Rapture to be a difficult yet acceptable challenger to face in mortal combat. Camera drones would be flying everywhere to film the gladiators and televised around the multiverse, owned by Atlantic Entertainment Studios for viewers, who wish to enjoy some popcorn with the family while seeing a real person getting decapitated or impaled, Roman style.

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First Arrival.

Zero exited from the Stargate, he was short male, with completely white hair though he was youthful in appearance, his nails were blackened and had a muscular physique. He wore a ghoulic mask resembling a leather gimp mask with an eyepatch covering his right eye, where his kakugan manifests. His mask bears a lipless mouth with large gnashing teeth, equivalent to restraint monster. Bolts seen sticking out of his neck would invoke a Frankenstein-like theme, symbolizing he is a product made by Dr. Blackwell’s Blackwater Project for the development of super soldiers. Lastly, he wore monochrome and wore a form-fitting black suit with outcuts and shoulder platting made out of neutronium, the strongest known metal to the Sol system.

Zero examined the gathering arena, the architecture was a mix between neo-classical, totalitarian and gothic from his observation. Zero walked towards a cylinder panel with five large gates leading to random places of the facility and possibly outside to the hellish and violent environment. He launched himself into the air two stories, landing smoothly on top of a statue resembling the Grim Reaper, where replicas would stand next to each gateway. Awaiting for gladiators to arrive before the game of death begin.

[Low bloods]

The second arrival's entry

Oni and Low walk out of a portal looking around.

"This should be fun, when it starts that is." Oni stood with his hand clutched on his blade as he were eagerly yet cautious as he wasn't quite sure if this was the pre meeting or the actual battle, yet either way his guard was extremely high at even that.
"I wonder if we're early this time?" He jokes a bit before becoming a bit silent, looking towards the former King.

Low was awfully silent though did offer some dialogue. "Reminds me of when I was alive, right before my death I participated in one of these. Maybe we should host one next year, after all we got the tech, we already have blood sports and such. And as the King of Corpses we battle diplomatically to the death.
I'm just sure people eat this stuff up."
While it seemed Low was staring at his hand he laughs
"Ahh the Pain of the living, I look forward to seeing old and new faces."

Both conversed a bit before they grew silent they were considered to be teammates but rarely planned on cooperating amongst one another unless help was required along the way.

[A m e n r i a]

The click clack of Siyeon's heels can be heard as she walks upon the scorching dimension from her spawning point. She stretches and groans from not doing anything for a while. Looking around, she started walking in random directions, not sure who to fight first.

[The Legion of the Shadow]

A dark rift appeared, distorting reality near it. Out steps the gladiators for the tournament, and as they enter the gathering area, the rift closes and reality resumes as normal. Armine the Phantom, as highest ranking among the gladiators, shouts, "Legionnaires, front and center." Jana the Bold, Gilebertus the Warden, and Johamma the Colossus all march forwards and stand at attention. "We are here to prove that the Legion is the mightiest fighting force in the multiverse! To prove to the Warden-Paladin that we are capable of protecting the Four Cities of the Legion! And to prove that we are the righteous warriors of the Shadow God!" The gladiators shout cheers of agreement, and Armine says again, "Now, inspect the competition, but do not interact with them unless I say so. They are our enemies, and we cannot give them any advantage, no matter how small."

[Greater South]

As the team exited out into the place, they looked around their environment as some were nervous, the others gleefully anticipated.

"Uhhh... so, uh, why are we back in Hell again? It ain't even Halloween yet, Merasmus is still recuperating from last year!" The Scout asked.

"Monseiur Vonstein has invited us over here to prove our merit against powerful warriors from many other worlds, like a gladiator competition." Spy said.

"Uh huh. And what's the prize gonna be?" Scout replied.

"We do not know. Maybe money. Maybe immortality. Maybe something else." Heavy said. "But for now, we settle on present. Stick as team, everyone."

"I don't know 'bout that one, Heavy..." Engineer asked. "...what if they make it so that only one of us gets outta here alive?"

"Don't worry about it. We'll just respawn back home once we're killed here." Sniper said, polishing his kukri before sheathing it and slinging his sniper rifle onto his back, drawing his bow. "Now, let's just set ourselves up and get ready for it."

[Skyhooked]

All Skyhookedian council gathered near the teleporter in underground labs, which will take them to the gladiator games, from which they might not come back. After a few long seconds, the teleporter created a stable wormhole, which led them to the Factory dimension. A hellish place full of machines and despair. Place with only two exits - truimph or gruesome death.

All five men entered the wormhole, and quickly ended up in the Factorium.

-"Skyhooked gonna watch us, partners, so we gonna perform well! We been through such things before, and we know how to fight ol' Vonstein. Besides, those foes ain't so bad, especially for a gunslinger like me!"-Says Stan Dixon, as he looks at his revovler and puts on shades and cowboy hat.

-"There is only one thing we know for sure about him or other gladiators. If we hit them alot, they will probably die, as for their strengths and weaknesses, we will find them out the hard way. Victor dude is a tought foe, perhaps he became stronger since those happy times we fought him, but I guess he has some weakness. Maybe he has viking allergy? Bjorn never fought him.. so we can't say, that he doesn't."-Casey James, who looks like a rasta.

"Analizing odds... Odds of winning are low. Scaning place for best positions... 10%... 40%... 70%... 90%... 99%... 99%... Not working, not working, reboot, reboot! Scanning again. Done. There are position, from which sniper can see everything and we can't see him at all. This is gonna be fun. And if I die, I have a backup. And if my proccessor is destroyed... does this unit have a soul?"-John Walker AI

"Odin shall see us thorugh this, and if not, we will all feast in Valhalla! I lived for thousand years, and this will be my moment of greatest triumph either way!"-Bjorn of Steel

"Let's not forget why we are here. As counil, we represent the best of Skyhooked, in statemanship and in battle! Now, we represent it's deciciveness and courage! The battle will be observed by millions, and we will show them strength of our cause! If we live, this will be the crowning moment! If we die, Skyhooked will carry on! For revolution!"-First Leader Seth

And here they are, five differently looking men with different mentalities, who share the common bond. Stan Dixon wears his ahwaian shirt, bandolier, and cowboy hat with shades. Casey James is dressed exaclty like some rasta and has nice long dreadlocks. John Walker AI had recently polished his hull. Bjorn of Steel has steel armor with pagan runes (not magical) and valknut on one of pauldrons. And first leader Seth had his old, decorated riot armor, he found during the revolution.

[Eodor]

Service grants Strength

For 5000 years, the Irenton Empire has endured.

Where other, weaker Empires would fall to wrack and ruin, Irenton remained steadfast and resolute. The crashing tides of evil and destruction breaking upon the invincible bulwark that is the Empire's mighty armies. It's soldiers remain courageous no matter the foes they face and gladly stand to the end against odds uncounted.

It has been 5000 years, and Irenton endures...

Courage begets Immortality

There was silence in the teleportarium, an air of authority hung overhead, the Imperator had arrived.

The two Spire Guard, once of Command Sector Bastion, bowed before their lord. The two Heavy Fusiliers also bowed, their armour making such a thing uncomfortable but not impossible. The Black Guard, however, the commander of the unit, remained still.

Imperator Augustus, singular overlord of Irenton, gave an involuntary twitch at the Black Guard's defiance, "arise!" He commanded, and the soldiers did just so. Augustus stared into the fiery green eyes of the Black Guard, and considered his choice. For the Imperial team was not meant to succeed in their mission, they were there to ensure the last of the Black Guard died beyond Imperial borders, away from Imperial eyes. He smiled, a twisted smirk that he knew the Black Guard could not understand, such was the nature of Emperor Nicholas' most vile creation.

He then left the room, closing the metal blast door behind him and ordered the controller to initiate teleportation. The five within the chamber were consumed with a purple light, teleporting away to the Factory.

[Veise]

Astre, for a long time, needed some sort of outlet to truly measure his power. For as long as he has lived his short life, he had not met very many equals. He was the best swordsman in Veise, the fastest man, and the strongest man as far as he had seen. He had no metric to measure the depths of his miraculous, demi-godlike strength. While Astre had no interest in paltry war games or arenas as a duelist, he knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and he took it without hesitation.

He had fetched himself a grey, mid-thigh length hooded cloak and a pair of goggles and well as a cheaper, comfier black uniform for the event. He clicked his rapier into a cheap, unassuming sheath, and acquired himself a suit of flight gear (which would be almost totally hidden underneath his cloak). The Prince believed he was a superior, high being, but he was very secure in his belief of this and was not particularly shy of dressing simpler and more practical. He passed through the portal, silent, but almost immediately began to read his soon-to-be opponents.

[Cossack Khanate]

Kirve, Via, Veil, and Mark all stepped through the swirling purple and black portal that deposited them in the lobby of the Factory Dimension. Kirve immediately noticed the gladiators around them: A living skeleton of former King Low, legionnaires from the Shadow Realms, hulking members of Task Force 2, an odd collection of gunslingers and nordic fighters from Skyhooked, as well as the legendary swordsman Astre. Seeing the huge figures with huge steel armor and smaller figures with ominous weapons didn’t exactly help Kirve’s spirit. Via, practical as usual, counted her magazines, checked her equipment, and was discussing strategies with Mark. Veil had already began to drift away, lurking around in the shadows of the lobby. Kirve decided to wander too, observing the odd architecture around him. He wasn’t nervous of death; he knew that he would be respawned in the lobby, but he also knew he would still feel the pain of a regular death. He looked back at his team, and wondered if they could survive the onslaught they were about to face.

[Veise]

Astre read into his opponents as well as he could. "Well-armed. Lots of armor. Not them, they're very vulnerable. There's a wolf, with an almost ethereal presence. There's more." Astre's thoughts were jumpy, yet precise and detailed in his own language like college-level note-taking. He noted that most competitors were disadvantaged and cursed himself for not having any armor on hand, but noted that most of his foes were wielders of melee. Most of the ranged warriors were less armored, except for a particular group that he reminded himself to take caution with.

He was confident that he could pierce any armor, regardless, though that wasn't to say that Astre wasn't still looking around. The four new, lightly-armored ranger arrivals caught his eye, and he returned Kirve's glance with an expression of pure malice composed of a ferocious glare and a wrinkled nose. While he acknowledged the practicality of scanning his opponents, he did not particularly like being the recipient of this and kept at the outskirts of the crowd. His cloak concealed essentially his entire load out and his goggles still left much to the imagination as to what it could be a hint for.

[The Zeonic Imperium]

Zeonic Experimental Newtype Team

As the other groups of gladitorial units arrived to the gathering area of the factory-arena, soon arrived a colossal tear in space-time, hundreds of feet wide and almost a hundred tall: seeing into it, it seemed that it led off into the fabric of reality, possibly dangerous for some to enter without the right safety precautions. As it expanded to its maximum size, out stepped a black and white mobile suit, heavily armored with what seems to be some sort of refit, and armed to the teeth with brand new weaponry: standing beside it to the left is a much more standard mobile suit, though well customized to a personal use, and an older model with special funnel weaponry to its shoulders and knees, and at the far end, a mobile suit that seems to match the similarities of the forbidden mobile suit known as a Gundam. To his other side, was a fantastical mobile suit that seemed to be quite different in operation, a bright red aerodynamic unit, and a mysterious white mobile suit, with large wing-like protrusions.

"Vonstein!" A voice rings from the middle unit, the leader of the currently arranged team. He raised one of his arms up at the man atop the statue, as a piece of wrist armor separates, revealing a large, claw-like cover for the hand, bursting with a charged amount of particle energy. "We've accepted your challenge, and readied with you, this tournament. Don't keep me waiting: the amount of surprises we've packed for you and the others here especially are going to hurt. Win or lose... this will be fun."

The black custom unit to his right side moved and grabbed his extended arm, trying to pull it back. "Zoltan, sir? I don't believe it's wise if we simply threatened our ally like this." Erika went and partially rejected her statement: both of the men were much more powerful then her, and there was no mediation to be done in this conflict. Meanwhile, the others spoke to one another, on the opposite sides of one another.

"So, you're really the one Lord Aznable killed? Why'd he bring you back?" Zechst remarked off to Banagher, who kept himself at bay from really needing to speak on a matter like this. "That's off topic, pilot. We're here for a mission that we were put to, and it's to simply just attend: not get together." The man in the Silver Bullet replied, while the Jagd Doga pilot simply sighed and looked on through the other contenders they were going against. "Really, I hope you weren't this steely back before you got mind-blown."

And on the other end, the two others spoke on the mysterious woman who was brought with them in the winged mobile suit. "So, she's really her? Cloned the same way you were, I assume?" The Rozen pilot spoke on to the pilot of the Rebawoo, who felt an eerie but familiar aura to the mystery pilot. "I think it's her. I've only felt the energy once before, and it was back around when me and the others were going through our process. We're not clones, but... if it's the same power that led Neo Zeon before, I assume this is their test run for how well she's improved: thank Deikun she's on our side again."

[The Legion of the Shadow]

The Legionnaires looked at the the large mobile suit with no emotion. They had slain Demon Lords larger than that, and thought that if it was an attempt to threaten them, it was amusing. "Sir, we have looked over our opponents, and if you excuse me for saying this, I think we might finally have a challenge for once. See there? That is Astre, a legendary swordsman from Veise. I say we take care of him first and then move onto the more...challenging foes." Armine nodded and mentally prepared himself to slay this man. Or, he thought with a smirk, prepare to have Astre slay him.

[Veise]

Astre was distracted by his scanning for a moment and saw the squadron of mechas enter, each around 20 meters in height. The giant metal contraptions with their bells, whistles, and flickering, fancy weaponry confounded the prince, who came from a world in which cogs were still the staple of machinery. He had adjusted and studied the weaponry a century or two his junior, but the technology of an ascended humanity had been nothing to him but rumors yet. His eyes widened at the machinery before narrowing as he logged estimations of what they could be armed with in his head. He met the glance of the Legionnaires with a hateful snarl before returning to the giant machines to gauge whether or not he could cut them.

So far all he could determine as a certainty was that they had energy weaponry. The swordsman prince's idea of energy weaponry was something like fire in his head, so he assumed it would not particularly be a precision weapon. The prince knew that taking these crafts down would be his finest moment, were he to survive the ordeal. He found that there was no information that he could glean from merely looking, and he wasn't about to draw attention to himself through speech. Finally, moving onto another train of thought, the Prince noted the gazes he gained from a few of his opponents. The hungry look that Armine gave him and the look of nervousness from Kirve told him he wasn't being read into, but moreso was to become a victim of targeting. "Either they think I'm easy pickings, or my reputation precedes me," he thought. He turned his head up to the sky to make himself more difficult to read.

"They're all wielders of melee weaponry," continued the Prince in thought as his face was overcome by a look of blatant malice, "so... I'll kill them first!"

[The Rapture Republic]

The Holographic transmitter activated with a blinding light of sky blue glomming throughout the room, revealing the Chancellor of Rapture with wearing his signature trench coat, shown always worn by his publicity pictures with the Rapture Tribune and when speaking with foreign leaders on striking a miltary tesde agreement, alongside liveleak, when the Chancellor is not in his final phase form incinerating entire civilizations without a second thought, as the Chancellor leads a miltary charge against the enemies of the Rapture Republic. He had a wide smirk acrosss his face with his arms crossed, as his eyes gaze down at the gladiators.”Welcome, meatbags and glorified parasites? To my tournament of death and dishonor! You all have been accepted to die, and yes. Some of you may survive, reluctantly so; for death is preferred than continuing your disgusting and wasted existence in this multiverse. However, insects! We will have the displeasure in crowning you the Spartan King, the Omniversal Tyrant, the Archangel of Annihilation! Also granting you rewards that surpass your fatal carbonite greedy hearts and minds, shining brighter than the Heavenly Kingdom! If you survive, of course!” VictorNet unleashed a booming laughter causing massive tremendous tremors across the dimension, which could cause the whole base to collapse into the oceans of fires, if it wasn’t thanks to the mastery of Aquarian engineering.

Pound! Bang! Pound!

Struck the massive gates with bleeding screams echoing from the concealed cracks between the colossal doors. Unknown and loud sounds from unknown creatures laying behind the gates, for the gladiators to face. When the Chancellor authorizes the games of extermination. The transmitter released scatters of lighting hitting the walls, leaving truck-sized holes in them, as the panel couldn’t handle the immense power of the Chancellor coming through. It would soon explode if the transmission didn’t end.”Now, maggots! You will not escape this lobby alive. As it seems my faithful servant, Zero. Has released the hordes of the undead to be your first hazard and confrontation with him. So, Zero! Your bloodlust is unstoppable and you have my permission to massacre everyone here. Let the slaughterhouse, begin! Bahahaha! Blackwell open the damn gates!” Roared, the Chancellor.

The transmission finally, as the panel smoked with blacken clouds. Instantly Zero came crashing down from the Grim Reaper statue, emanating immeasurable hateful and malicious power, unleashing even so; by the gladiators blasted by an endless hurricane of purified hatred and daemonic evil, symbolizing the terrifying and horrifying might of anyone, known as a Vonstein.

Sinister laugher played from the mouth and the mind of Zero, transmitting his madness via telepathic direct intervention into the minds of the gladiators, strategically to cause distractions as the cogs of the gates started to lift and levitate upwards, revealing the abominable necromorphs tearing one another apart, as they started to wildly berserk at the gladiators with their acidic claws trying to attack the living gladiators and enlighten them with the infectious virus produced from Zero. When he wants to establish an undead horde. This was the gift of the Marker, a terrible ability practiced by the user. The horde only numbered in the one thousands, estimated by the organizers of this event to be suitable for the gladiators to clear through without much trouble.

Zero raised slowly with his left eye beaming eye with devilish menacing ultraviolence.”Come get me, Zoltan, Banagher, Astre, and my ancient enemy, the drunken cowboy.” He’d crackled, as tendrils as large as Roman pillars burst out from his back launching backwards attracting to the hall behind gate three, which lead to the heart of the factorium, attracted. They pulled Zero while breaking the sound barrier. The Dawn of Champions has officially kicked off, and all the audience watching this from home are asking; Who will live! Who will die? And who’s going to make the popcorn!!!??”


Factorium’s radio station: Living After Midnight is currently playing, Volume 19

[Low bloods]

"Perhaps we should find better ground upon all this rubble.
I cant believe that monster doesn't... you know if it wasn't for all these undead I'd start picking targets."
Low said as he was beheading and bisecting the undead.

Oni was quiet as he was looking to the past as this was his every day job when he was younger. He was letting off alot of steam before he glanced around "Screw this we need to bail out and get out of this hell hole, I'd prefer not to get picked off so soon... But that Jack off in a gimp mask I must watch."

The two indeed looked for a way to get out while fighting off the large amount of undead.

[The Legion of the Shadow]

The Legionnaires allowed grins of glee to spring onto their faces. They had fought hordes upon hordes of Demons and undead before, and hacked at the abominations, acting like kids in a candy store. Johamma smashed her hammer into a necromorph, causing a tremor that killed several more in the process, while Jana collected the shadows of the creatures and used them to slice several of them in half.

[Skyhooked]

A legion of ruthless, cybernetic undead, coming after terrifying telepathic transmission is something, that can fill the heart with terror and despair, but all the five member didn't panic. Isntead, they grabbed their weapons and started to look for better position, or at least some cover. In this cruel place, even flimsy wall can make difference between life and death, or at least they thought so. They split, but stayed close enough to eachothers, so they all could cover eachothers.

Bjorn of Steel shouted "Til Valhall!", one of his warcries, and rushed closer, filling enemies with buckshots. He prepared to charge with a sword, when his mag is empty.

And Seth covered his flanks with bursts from his custom assault rifle as best as he could. He used shorter bursts to improve his accuracy and lower the risk of friendly fire.

Stan Dixon and John Walker AI picked the other direction. Stan quicky drank all whiskey from his flask before he focused on the undead. He picked them with his winchester, a trusty lever action rifle, with which he killed many big game during hunting. Stan's alcoholism made him lose a few precious secons, which displeased John Walker AI, who scanned the place for suitable cover. His sensors soon found one. A pile of metal barrels and crates.

-"Your alcoholism may decrease your efficiency, Stan."

-"Nah, I only get better. Besides, soberity is boring. Just look, how I am pickin' those thingies off. And can ya' help me a bit, I think, they gonna flank us soon. Comin' on ten o' clock."-Stan says, as he easlily hits three creatures with his winchester in less than a second.

-"Recieved. Now scanning for objects for cover... And firing a few bursts."-John Walker AI as he mows down hostiles, who almost flanked Stan.

Meanwhile, Casey thought about the message and missed the beginning. He thought about it's meaning, and probability, that the reward is actually DEATH, as the villain in Fallout said something like that. Thought until one of the creatures returned him back to reality with it's acidic claws. In the last moment he dodged the attack and responded with spraying from his UZI, killing four of them, if killing can apply to such creatures.

He lost his comrades, but not for long. Bjorn's warcry let him find the direction, so now he heads there, unleashing a hurricane of bullets from his UZI and bursts of flames from hand, setting those unlucky abominations on fire as easily, as he lights a joint, hoping, that fire will spread onto other abominations. And if it won't... he can throw a few additional fireballs. Well, as soon as his mana regenerates.

[Veise]

Astre disregarded both the words of the machine Chancellor. He glared and drew his rapier, and pointed its edge towards the horde of reanimated abominations. "Ugly things," scathed the Prince in a hushed tone before transitioning into a stance of preparation to pounce. Finally, a blast of power surged through his legs, and the Prince's feet left the ground. A blast of dust, and perhaps basket-ball sized chunks of the floor, were kicked up.

SHREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENG! A howling roar like the passing-by of a speeding jet resounded.

With incredible speed, the Prince was now careening across the lobby. In his way were plenty of Necromorphs, and he began to calculate his attack. He shifted his trajectory with spurts from his flight suit, which gave no evidence of its existence except for brief spurts of high-pressure, white gas. "Perish, you breathing insults to the heavens." thought the Prince as he reeled his blade back. In meeting them, a considerable clump of monsters, perhaps at least ten, were dismembered by clean slashes of splitting depth. All through the mastery of the grey and gold blur that was the Prince, though Astre had simply bypassed the majority of his foes on his way across the lobby.

He skidded his feet across the ground after finding a comfy clearing in the midst of the charging horde, and made a three-pointed landing in preparation to make another bounding leap.

[The Chuck]

Daniel Clay prepared for the battle by making a stop at an intergalactic trader he had met somewhere along his journey through space and time. At the trader he purchased all the .45-70 and .44-40 ammunition he could. Along with purchasing ammunition, Daniel bought hay for Bonnie and enough rations to last himself two weeks. After gathering all of the supplies he loaded it into the saddlebags on Bonnie's saddle. After this he filled the water skins and loaded his rifle and revolver. Checking to make sure his Schofield had a cowboy load he pulled himself up by the pummel on Bonnie's saddle and rode through the stargate provided by the generous Victornet and looked around. Muttering to Bonnie,

"What in tarnation have we gotten ourselves into this time Bonnie?"

Bonnie whinnied in reply to his inquiry. After listening to Victornet give a brief rundown of what to expect, he nudged Bonnie and she trotted onto the barren inhospitable wasteland that was to be their home, possibly temporarily, possibly permanent. As they moved along he nudged Bonnie to get her to pick up the pace. Going from a walk to a trot then a canter and finally a gallop they sped across the volcanic rock that made up this world. As they rode, they were rushed by a wave of creatures and Daniel pulled out his Schofield and opened up on them. In rapid succession as they bolted across the wastes there were five reports of gunshots. Each shot seemed to meet its mark and the mysterious creatures started to fall. As they rode they encountered cracks and crevices filled with lava and noxious gases. At each gap, Daniel pulled back on the bit in Bonnie's mouth and they'd jump over the cracks. At the first good gap that they jumped the creatures turned back and didn't follow them. Like this they rode for a good distance until Daniel believed they were a fair distance from the other contestants. Once he figured they were a ways away he let Bonnie slow down to a trot and kept going. After an hour or two they encountered a large rock formation with lava spewing down sections of its side so Daniel urged Bonnie forward and they traversed up the rock formation. After another hour of upwards travel they arrived at the summit and were greeted by a large cauldron of molten rock bubbling and churning. However that pit was about one thousand feet from the lip they had just rode over and there were many large boulders between them and the lava. As such this is where Daniel decided to establish a base camp of sorts. Hopping off of Bonnie he opened up one of the saddle bags and pulled out one of the water skins. Taking a swig from it he opened it up and attached it to let Bonnie take a well deserved break. While Bonnie drank from the saddle bag, Daniel walked around with his rifle and surveyed the land while gathering charcoal from the burnt trees and scrubs and pitched his poncho to use as a sleeping surface in the warm volcanic sand. Once he had a fairly decent little base camp set up he hammered a spike into one of the rocks and tied up Bonnie before climbing onto one of the rocks near the lip of the plateau and looking out across the wastes in search of any competitors.

[Greater South]

"Zombies, huh? Alright, let's do this!" The Scout yelled as the gates opened and the team rushed out, the Medic putting his Medigun stream on Heavy as he mowed down the zombie hordes with his minigun. Soldier and Demoman were also making quick work of the undead, lobbing grenades and rockets and sending them flying all over, while the Engineer placed a version of his sentry that was placed on tank tracks, as to not break the 'no camping rule, as well as a mobile dispenser.

"Ya-dadadadadadada ya-dadadadadadada do-de-da-va-da-da-dada- Ka-boom! Ka-boom!" Heavy sang, gleefully firing his minigun into the zombies with the Medic smiling behind him, the doctor being breifly jumped by a zombie before the rotting corpse was decapitated with a bonesaw, the Medic getting back up to charge on him.

"Hmmmrrpmprhpmhprhmphmmmmhrr!" The Pyro mumbled as he let out a burning stream of fire into the zombie horde, a bit of flame accidentally igniting Sniper's arrow as he took out a zombie's head with it, before slinging it and firing his submachine gun instead.

"Yo, I'm like a freakin' sparrow here! Can't catch me, ya freakin' maggot houses!" The Scout jeered and laughed as he let off laughter, dodging swipes and offing the zombies one by one with his scattergun. The Spy, however, looked around, and simply cloaked to invisibility as he'd sneak around, waiting for the right oppurtunity to strike on of the other contestants.

[The Rapture Republic]

Now, as the Undeaad horde dwindles by the blades of the chosen suicidal gladiators selected by the committee of the Dawn of Champions Battle Tournament. They will have to choice, which gate they wish travel through. The first gate centered at the front behind the destroyed holographic panel, where Zero landed upon. Would lead the gladiators towards the courtyard and cargo platform, where for snipers and ranged fighters would be suitable to pick off opponents from above the various high cranes and support structures. This is where Patient X would be located, standing atop a crane holding a cargo container.

The second gate on the right side of the first gate, would lead to the Mountains of Madness, where the dimension’s volcanic activity rivals the chaos of hell and the immaterium, where gladiators with the most endurance could only survive without getting killed by the inhospitable environment, in addition, this area is where the infamous Doctor Blackwell would be waiting to face any foe that wants to be his next science experiment and he was manipulating his aura for any gladiators with or without special abilities to find him, at a mining station stretched across the highest volcano, named Mount Doom dwarfing Mount Everest on Earth.

The third gate is where Zero shot down the halls of the factorium towards the forgery, a toxic and polluted area harmful to human lungs, as the automated poured liquid molten volcanic rock to be turned into Neutronium, a metal that was forged from Newtypes creating a near- invincible armourment used to build Gundams and starships for the notorious Rapture Republic. All pathways were dangerous with various rooms and hallways with advantages and disadvantages for gladiators to fight against each other, all who survive the endeavor would be faced by another, as the factorium is covered with traps to trigger different events, much like the zombie horde.

*There is a bonus gate, the fourth gate that leads to the factorium’s control room, no traps or tricks, as this would be were VictorNet is watching the players through a network of drones and cameras and at a console to trigger the aforementioned events. However, it’s completely optional and I would recommend against when scrolling VictorNet’s factbook.

*Also players, have my full permission to edit the setting of the factorium and volcanic environment to there own liking. However it is forbidden to make the room or outside area biased to one character, it must pose a challenge to their enemy and themselves.

[Polish Prussian Commonwealth]

Erika rushed out and began to fire her H&K416 in short bursts at the mass of undead as she retreated.
As she slipped away to Gate 1, she began rerunning the people she saw.
Band of Mercs, appear to be from that game. Some fucker who leaps around, and fucking bullshit mechs. I've seen worse.

[The Legion of the Shadow]

The Legionnaires rush towards the second gate, as a volcanic environment was similar to the environment of the Shadow Realms, and ran through the gate, preparing to fight any gladiators who came through. Armine led them forwards near a volcano, and had them patrol the area, just in case there were any undead in the area, but mostly to find Doctor Blackwell and try and defeat him.

[Greater South]

"Go! Go! GO!" The Heavy commanded as their team regrouped once more, the Spy uncloaking after finishing an undead with his revolver as he joined back up with his team, running into the first gate as they went into the courtyard, they readied their weapons as they looked around the area to check for enemies

"Alright, gentlemen, quick war planning. Sniper, get yourself into that high ledge there, Engineer will be your escort. Medic, take care of the Heavy and Pyro while they search for any lives to take. As for the rest of us, disperse!" The Spy said as he turned himself invisible once more, the mercenaries going their own directions as ordered; the Sniper and Engineer making their way to a section of high-level cranes with ladders conveniently placed among them, the Heavy, Medic and Pyro teaming up as they searched the area going up the courtyard, and the Scout, Demoman and Soldier running around to random locations

[Veise]

Astre stood up, and a wind blew against his back for unnecessary dramatic effect. His cloak and hair flowed majestically as the wind passed it, and the Prince dug a hand into his hair. He quickly decided that the second gate was the best choice, with him betting that the first gate would be excessively occupied and that the third gate was simply out of his reach. The legionnaires were heading in that direction, a good first kill in the Prince's eyes as well as a safer bet since they weren't equipped for ranged combat.

The Prince put his hood up and took off in for the second gate, preparing to be intercepted. A necromorph intercepted him but was flung violently aside as the Prince became a grey blur darting across the room, kicking up a trail as he went.