//OOC: This is my very first post here on Planewalker, and I am not quite sure if there is a strict system under which to format entries. If there is something wrong with this one, please do not hesitate to point it out so I can fix it.
This entry is about a demiplane idea I have been toying around for a while. To make it more welcoming, I shall start with a short in-character text.
Thank you beforehand for taking some of your time reading here.
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Athos Marmaroth was all set. Ticket in hand, battles picked out and he was already standing in front of the portal. He handed out his ticket to Mâlramâr, the taciturn minotaur, usually regarded as "The Silent Gatekeeper", or "the blasted cow that won't let me pass", and went straight through the glistening gateway..
Poor Athos had never grown accustomed to the sickness and weariness of passing through a portal, yet all the discomfort was worth it. Oh yes. For it was now when the real fun started. Before him, stood the seven great Coliseums of Khandor: Anaurak, Balamir, Khalasos, Maphilis, Akatoch, Phanbator and Thundamar. Athos was a regular at Balamir; the screams of warriors falling into the blackness of the pits were priceless. Yet as much fun the Pit of Columns was, Athos always longed for that special place, where the most honourable battles were fought, where gods and common folk stood alike in awe, Thundamar, the Pit of Duels. Alas, poor Athos could not afford it. Turning that thought aside, he went to see some battles in the Lower Arenas, where most coinless berks gathered for some steel clashing fun.
Passing through the crowds was no easy task, and Athos was quickly pushed and shoved around, hoping the pushing and the shoving would take him where he wanted. The talking, the fighting, the shouting, made the place overwhelmingly loud. Yet, one grew accustomed to it... eventually.
On his way he saw exotic, puzzling creatures, clearly not meant for domestic purposes, being dragged by several tamers. These were not just any average tamers. They were the Varmint Gatherers, of whom entire books of legends and epic deed had been written. Hired by the different authorities in Khandor, these men (even some women) travelled throughout the Multiverse seeking bizarre and powerful creatures for the usual fights in the Pit of Beasts, or as training for some of the warriors that were staying. Needless to say, messing around with them would quickly arrange a date between your head and cold steel, as they were as short tempered as the monstrosities they hunted. The way was also brimming with merchants of all types and origins, pompous nobles and their cortèges, shouting bookies, training warriors, snack stands (fried Dhenools were really popular) and the occasional minotaur guarding a portal entrance, or serving as a guide.
Hours ago, Athos arrived at the Lower Arenas of Khandor. These minor battle theatres serve as showplace for those who wish to introduce themselves into the world of the gladiators and expect to be pinpointed by a talent hunter, with the occasional visit from a fighter of greater prowess, just to impress the spectators who can't afford a ticket into the grander arenas. The place was packed. The shouts of encouragement, bloodlust or simple madness were deafening. These were the arenas most commoners could afford, and it showed. Most of it was made out of wood, with a little stone mixed in for stability, and compared to the Seven Great Ones this arena was nothing more than a blood-stained barn. Athos found a seat, and luckily it was really close to the pit. It was show time. The battles were usually short, but intense. What the fighters lacked in skill, they more than made up with their fighting spirit. Beheading after beheading, the berk cheered on. This had been the most fun he had had in a while, and some of the best performances he could remember in these arenas. Yet, they could not compare to the glory of the Pit of Duels.
"...I know this fella', real good lad. Got me one of 'em tickets, THE tickets, if ye know what 'am sayin', berk. The rascal found it while he was cleanin' the ready room of one of 'em fighters" Athos heard the conversation between two old men, sitting right in front of him, both with long and dirty white hair, and modest beards.
"Lucky bastard ye, Gerod. I wish I had a ticket for Thundamar..."
"Thundamar!" Athos thought. It seemed his fate mocked him, showing him the happiness he could be enjoying. "Blasted old man! It is I who should have that ticket, not him"
"And it seems it is one o' the good ones, too. Really close to the action!"
Athos groaned with every passing comment. The envy was tearing him apart. He had to get that ticket.
He no longer paid attention to the fights, and kept track of every move the old man made, all the while plotting and scheming of different ways of getting that ticket. It would soon be his... yes it would! Suddenly, the old man Gerod stood up, visibly tired of all the fights and cheering, and went out. Athos followed suit at a distance, of course "I must be like a shadow!" He thought.
Athos hid in a shadowy alleyway in the path of Gerod, just far enough for no one to notice, waiting to lure him into the darkness... and claim his prize. "Athos, you are a genius! Your mother raised no clueless!" He was, to say the least, content with his little scheme.
"Hey, old man. I have something for you. A gift, if you like..." Athos whispered.
"And what would that... Hey, what you doin'? Somebody hel... Aggh!"
A dull whooping sound was heard, and then there was silence. If someone listened very closely they might have heard a faint, squeaky little voice saying "I have it, I have it!"
Athos came out of the darkness, brushing his hair with his hands, looking both left and right with a dubiously innocent look on his face "Seems no one's noticed" Athos thought to himself. He was totally ecstatic; at last his lifelong dream was just one step away! All he had to do was going to the Pit of Duels and enjoy the show.
Athos stood in awe at the entrance of Thundamar. Rising hundreds of feet into the ever lit skies of Khandor, surrounded by imposing sculptures of the greatest of gladiators, clad in colossal pieces of glittering bronze armour. Great stone bridges crisscrossed the heights, allowing quick passage for the thousands of spectators that were previously enjoying the great feasts given within the Palace... He was at a loss for words. After a moment, he pulled himself together "No time to stand here like a clueless, less sighting, more fighting!"
He handed his ticket to the local attendant, a beautiful young lady, dressed in pompous purple and green robes, her brown hair standing on the way of her face "Greetings, my name is Serna, how may I help you, sire?" She asked.
Athos stood there for a moment staring at her, and then quickly composed himself "Ah, yes, I've come for today's fight. Here's my ticket" Athos handed out the ticket to Serna.
She looked surprised and quickly took a second look at Athos, who for a moment thought he had been discovered "And who might you be, good sire? So we can announce it to everybody when you go in"
"These must really be good seats!" Athos thought "Mmm right, sure, I'm... uh... Ebroth Imthera, Emperor of... the lands of... Zalchaccia, Archduke of Flingan, son of Barbanar the Great, Prince of..."
Serna stopped him "That will be enough, sire. Though we need to get you some proper clothes" She added.
"Oh right, I was wearing these rags as I can't have my loyal followers recognizing me. Sometimes my own popularity betrays me, ha ha ha" Athos chuckled.
"Right this way, lord Imthera"
Athos followed Serna through a series of mazelike corridors. In them, he came across people of legend. There was Sorentar and Barmentar, the legendary entrepreneur and fighting duo of brothers, famous for their highly coordinated combat skills and talent-seeking school of fighters; or the famous Ashass, The Sculpted Colossus, a giant who saw half of his body turned into hard stone, which he then had a renowned artist in Sigil sculpt into a both wonderfully done and impressively lethal new shape. The list went on and on...
Finally, they arrived at a room guarded by two menacingly looking minotaurs. She showed the ticket to both of them, and they cleared the way.
"You will be waiting here for the battle. You will be noticed of your entrance properly. I take my leave now"
"Of course, no problem at all" Athos responded "This is some fancy treatment I'm getting. Mugging the old berk was really worth it!" Athos thought to himself "Wait 'till I tell the lads back in the Cage about this one, ha ha!"
The room was everything a mere mortal could expect. Beautifully decorated, comfortable furniture, abundance of food and drink, and just the right temperature to set you in the mood. It was good to be in Thundamar. After a while, the sound of trumpets filled the air. A rush of blood went to Athos' head "This is it. At last! What I've been waiting forever!" His heart was beating ever faster. The minotaurs on the door guided Athos into a corridor, and stayed guarding at his back.
A powerful, rumbling voice was heard "Welcome, ladies and gentleman, gods and mortals, emperors and kings. Welcome to the place where battles of the like you've never even dreamed of take place. Welcome to Thundamar, the Pit of Duels!" A thundering roar came crashing down the coliseum, filled with applause and shouting.
"Shouldn't I be already sitting?" Athos questioned himself. He put those questions aside "Stop worrying, old Athos, they'll take me to my seat in some fancy ceremony, the little mistress said so. I should just wait and relax."
The voice continued "We bring you a special fight today! A veteran versus new blood! We bring you the deadly, the vicious, the man a thousand armies could not stop, he who walked into the fiery furnaces of Hell and came out intact. That's right, the very man that crushed thunder with his own hands. I give you, ladies and gentlemen, The Unmatched, the Thunder Breaker, The Earth Shaker... Orphalax!"
"Orphalax, Orphalax, Orphalax!" Started chanting the coliseum, deities and mortals alike. Orphalax came out into the arena greeting his fans, his body completely hidden below a mountain of silvery metal armour, both his hands encased in viciously long, sharply clawed gauntlets, known as the Heart Reapers. He then proceeded to raise both his arms in a gesture of power. The crowd was incredibly pleased, and the avalanche of roars became even greater.
"And against him, an initiate in this arena. Emperor of a far away land, he came here to prove his prowess against the best of the best. Will he be able to beat the might of The Unmatched? Or will he die a miserable death, his flesh and bone ripped to shred by the claws of the legend he faces? You'll be the judge, Orphalax the executor. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, the Emperor of Zalchaccia, the Archduke of Flingan... Athos Imthera, the Mightless!"
"Ha ha, poor bastard. I wouldn't want to be on his shoes. Everybody knows Orphalax obliterated the last ten poor souls that happened to be on his way. Oh well, I hope he puts up a fight, I don't want my only fight here to be over in ten seconds" Athos quickly thought.
The guards on his back pushed him towards the corridor "Hey, what's with the treatment? I'm an Emperor, you know" Suddenly it hit him. "Wait a minute, did he just say Emperor of Zalchaccia?" He asked one of the minotaurs on his back, his face contracted by fear.
"Come on, you're up!" In a deep sounding voice, that was the only response Athos could hear.
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//OOC: To avoid huge posts, I will put the information on following ones.
The only thing that I'd suggest doing is remember to turn on BBCode for the post.
(Already did that for you with my admin powers.)
Otherwise, it looks really interesting I'm curious to see where you're going with it. And of course, once you get it polished up and all on the forums to where you think it's ready, you can drop it into Planewalker's entry system and we can get it put into the website itself.
That and well - talk about some ironic justice there. *grin* Always check what's *on* the ticket before you use it.