DUEL 2 NEWSLETTER
Date : 07/19/2017 Duedate: 08/15/2017
STORMCROWE ARENA
DM-45 TURN-387
This Weeks Top Honors
THE DUELMASTER IS
TICKET TAKER
AVID FANS (65)
(45-2522) [4-1-0,140]
Chartered Recognition Leader Unchartered Recognition Leader
A CHEERLEADER LIKES ME
AVID FANS (65) OTIS LIKES LUNGERS (565)
(45-1092) [13-10-1,178] (45-5269) [6-3-0,61]
Popularity Leader This Weeks Favorite
GATTILIAN JOE TWITCH
TIME STALLYANS (547) FORCE OF FIVE (539)
(45-5006) [20-11-4,124] (45-4934) [3-3-0,31]
THE CURRENT TOP TEAM
TIME STALLYANS (547)
TEAMS ON THE MOVE TOP CAREER HONORS
Team Name Point Gain Chartered Team
1. TIME STALLYANS (547) 67
2. LAW DOGS (555) 52 INTERNATIONAL (554)
3. BATTLE SHIPS (552) 38 Unchartered Team
4. OTIS LIKES LUNGERS (565) 38
5. CSU COLLEGE RADIO (561) 37 BIG LAKE KILLERS (551)
The Top Teams
Career Win-Loss Record W L K % Win-Loss Record Last 3 Turns W L K
1/ 1 INTERNATIONAL (554) 52 26 5 66.7 1/ 4 TIME STALLYANS (547) 12 3 1
2/ 3 DARQUE FORCES (428) 547 328 34 62.5 2/12 BASH BROS CARS (562) 11 4 0
3/ 5 CSU COLLEGE RADIO (561) 56 35 1 61.5 3/ 7 AVID FANS (65) 10 5 1
4/10 LAW DOGS (555) 29 19 1 60.4 4/ 8 SHEWISH BUFFET (520) 10 5 0
5- 7*RUNEMASTERS (553) 9 6 1 60.0 5/15 BATTLE SHIPS (552) 9 6 1
6/ 8 PHANTOM REGIMENT (496) 71 48 3 59.7 6/ 9 SIMPLETONS (424) 9 6 0
7/ 9 GOING BERSERK (527) 66 47 6 58.4 7/14 PHANTOM REGIMENT (496) 9 6 0
8/12 BASH BROS CARS (562) 56 42 1 57.1 8/ 6*ICE-N-FIRE (544) 9 6 0
9/ 4*BIG LAKE KILLERS (551) 12 9 2 57.1 9/11*NOV FUN 14 (559) 9 6 0
10/18*FORCE OF FIVE (539) 17 13 1 56.7 10/29*VILLAINS WE LOVE (537) 8 7 1
11/ 6*ICE-N-FIRE (544) 17 13 1 56.7 11/ 2*BIG LAKE KILLERS (551) 8 7 1
12/ 2*NOV FUN 14 (559) 9 7 0 56.3 12/24 LA BOULANGE (533) 8 7 0
13/13*WRATHMEN 1.1 (543) 15 12 0 55.6 13/ 3 INTERNATIONAL (554) 8 7 0
14/14*OTIS LIKES LUNGERS (565) 22 18 1 55.0 14/33 CSU COLLEGE RADIO (561) 8 7 0
15/15 AVID FANS (65) 198 171 20 53.7 15/25*OTIS LIKES LUNGERS (565) 7 3 0
16-17 MIKES HEROES (509) 42 37 2 53.2 16/17*PONY BRIGADE (558) 7 8 1
17/16 YUPPIE HORDE (560) 186 164 11 53.1 17/ 1 DEAD POETS (548) 7 8 1
18/29*IMA BUBBA 2 (541) 10 9 0 52.6 18/13 GOING BERSERK (527) 7 8 1
Career Win-Loss Record W L K % Win-Loss Record Last 3 Turns W L K
19/20 TIME STALLYANS (547) 80 74 11 51.9 19/31 LAW DOGS (555) 7 8 1
20-19 DESCENDENTS OF DAR (291) 275 262 11 51.2 20/16*CANDY CRUSHERS (534) 7 8 1
21/21 SHEWISH BUFFET (520) 112 112 8 50.0 21/10*WRATHMEN 1.1 (543) 7 8 0
22/24 WOB AFW (556) 27 29 1 48.2 22/35*1ST DIVISION (545) 7 8 0
23/31 SIMPLETONS (424) 20 22 1 47.6 23/19 THE MENTORS RIDE (550) 7 8 0
24/11*PAIN AND PLEASURE (564) 10 11 1 47.6 24/26 WOB AFW (556) 7 8 0
25/27 MAIDEN JAPAN (504) 44 49 3 47.3 25/20*FORCE OF FIVE (539) 7 8 0
26/22*HOWLIN SLAUGHTER (563) 7 8 0 46.7 26/28*HOWLIN SLAUGHTER (563) 7 8 0
27/25 DEAD POETS (548) 42 51 3 45.2 27- 5*RUNEMASTERS (553) 6 4 0
28/28*OTTODROME XLV (549) 7 9 0 43.8 28/21 MAIDEN JAPAN (504) 6 8 1
29/32 LA BOULANGE (533) 31 41 0 43.1 29/30*OTTODROME XLV (549) 6 8 0
30/26*CANDY CRUSHERS (534) 10 14 1 41.7 30/23*PAIN AND PLEASURE (564) 6 9 1
31/33 THE MENTORS RIDE (550) 24 34 1 41.4 31/32*FREE CANDY (540) 6 9 1
32/35 BATTLE SHIPS (552) 18 27 2 40.0 32/27*MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE (557) 6 9 0
33/23*MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE (557) 6 9 0 40.0 33/22 DARQUE FORCES (428) 6 9 0
34/30*PONY BRIGADE (558) 11 17 1 39.3 34/18*3RD MECH (546) 5 7 0
35/34*3RD MECH (546) 7 12 0 36.8 35/36*IMA BUBBA 2 (541) 4 4 0
36/36*FREE CANDY (540) 6 11 1 35.3 36/39 YUPPIE HORDE (560) 3 7 1
37/37*VILLAINS WE LOVE (537) 8 16 1 33.3 37/38*ABATTOIR 5 BLADES (535) 2 13 0
38/38*1ST DIVISION (545) 7 15 0 31.8 38-37 DESCENDENTS OF DAR (291) 1 4 0
39/40*ABATTOIR 5 BLADES (535) 3 17 0 15.0 39-34*BOTTOM OF THE WORL (301) 1 9 0
40-39*BOTTOM OF THE WORL (301) 4 23 0 14.8 40-40 MIKES HEROES (509) 0 1 0
'*' Unchartered team '-' Team did not fight this turn
(###) Avoid teams by their Team Id ##/## This turn's/Last turn's rank
TEAM SPOTLIGHT
from Shewish Buffet:
"... and that concludes our brief overview of the history of Stormcrowe," the
tour guide said. He was guiding a group of gladiators through a ruined keep on the
outskirts of the port city.
"Hold just a minute," said Family Recipe. She was a sturdy women, and was rarely
seen without a scimitar at her side. "So the Chaos Wars decimated the kingdom of Van
and the only survivors sought refuge on this island. Then Serva pirates came and
enslaved the Van. Then priests of Kjarran arrived and offered up the Serva pirate
rulers as blood sacrifices. Then a Karnhorn fleet sailed in and laid waste to all the
strongholds. Then the remaining people fled into the swamps. Then the Ansark
Karragit invaded and took over everything. Then somehow the surviving humans scraped
together this single settlement?"
"And now Stormcrowe is a port that attracts the world's scum and the gladiators
fight to amuse them," added Marsh Fellow.
"That's pretty accurate," said the guide, obviously pleased that they had been
listening.
"Why would anyone choose to live in a place like this?!?" Family Recipe asked.
Later that day, back at the guild house:
Sloppy Joe was lying on the couch and looking out the window at the Bash Bros
Cars stable. All these new additions to the arena made space pretty tight. They were
next door neighbors and partners in the contest that had made their lives so
miserable. The Bash Bros were at work on their carts and wagons, like usual. One was
washing this, another was polishing that. Sloppy Joe didn't think he'd every seen
them use the carts, they mostly just worked on them and complained about stuff. It's
amazing they found time for the gladiator business.
"Why did our manager put our team in this hellhole, anyway?" Family Recipe was
still steamed up about the whole situation. "Even if we survive in the arena, it
seems pretty clear that this place could be invaded at any moment!"
Marsh Fellow, on the other hand, was far more relaxed. He was in the Challenger
Champions and the close prospect of immortality and a trip to the Isle made the place
tolerable. "We're lucky we have jobs, frankly. If it weren't for this contest, some
of you might be on the unemployment line right now." He looked pointedly at Shrimp
Scamp.
"Don't even start with me. Its hard enough getting the crowd on your
side when you are 1-4, but try it with a name like Shrimp Scamp," he replied.
"You think you have it bad? I'm not human. I'm not a bean. It makes no sense.
I'm an orc!" Human Bean snarled. "And I don't like the idea of being eaten by a
Shewish Giant, even if it's just for the shock value and the crowds. I do the eating
around here!"
"Well we are just going to have to suffer through this contest, put up with the
constant complaining by those Bash Bros guys, and before you know it, most of these
jokers will be gone and we'll have the arena to ourselves again. As lousy as this so-
called city is, it's much nicer when you can actually find your own table at the
tavern instead of having to squeeze in next to the stablemate of the warrior you
killed last week." As the only decent warrior on the team, Marsh Fellow felt it was
his obligation to guide the rest of them. "Back when it was just us, Darque Forces,
Northern Lights and Avid Fans, the place had a nice feel to it. A BBQ and some sports
on the weekends in between the occasional duel. It wasn't a bad life."
"And you should be thankful that there is only fighting once a month, Shrimp
Scamp, or you'd be losing twice as often!"
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
E.S.P.N. Slaughterhouse International Predictions
by: Senior Analyst, Dr. U. N., Internationally acclaimed
Sure, sure. I know. You want E.S.P.N.'s best ratings and predictions for The
Slaughterhouse Cup. You"ll get 'em. With two rounds already in the scorebook, but yet
another eight months of competition to go, some things are already clear, and some are
completely unknown. But the good Doc will assess the 21 teams, and give all you
fantasy DMers out there, your best shot at winning your local pool and maybe even a
beer or two. So without further ado, here is Dr. U. N.
Twenty, or is it twenty-one teams and eighteen with decent possibilities. Indeed,
not a bad competition at all. Let's eliminate the three duds first, then get down to
putting odds on the 18 possibilities.
THE DUDS
First, we have the Manager 1 and Manager 2 Team. (M1M2) With both schizophrenic
owners and bipolar general managers, this team is doing nothing but blowin" in the
wind; from both ends. They will be lucky to finish the competition in one piece.
Slightly worse than M1M2 are the TWiXes. When you really get down to it, both Var and
Dameon Darkheart are nothing but a pair of candy xxxxx. (Can I say that here?) O.K.,
O.K., already been bleeped once! A pair of candy rumps. (wink) How can a pair of
candies even consider competing? The third, and certainly the worst of the lot are The
Database Editors. Database editors? Did they enter the wrong competition? Probably.
Look, when you combine rambling over wording, with less than sparkling couth, and add
it to the "never won a thing in my whole life" syndrome, what do you have? Nothing but
that which dribbles out of a candy rump, so count them out awfully early. With those
three off the odds makers" radars, you can bet none of them are really taking this
Slaughterhouse competition seriously. (M1M2 and TWIX are at 500,000 to 1 and Editors
at a lofty 1,000,000 to 1.)
Done with the easy part. The real competitors will be divided into three groups,
the "front runners", the "good chances", and the "might get lucky" squads.
THE FRONT RUNNERS
Team 7 (G Vegas Gigolos) are the clear cut favorite. When Darque was offered help
in control of refereeing and scoring, he refused. Smart owner there! Having control of
all the scoring mechanisms, and owning a radio station, albeit not quite a Div I
station, gives them significant and unwarranted advantages. If you don't like it, take
it up with the coordinator! (Odds 1-1.)
Not far behind, but sadly lacking any competition controls, are squad 17, MAGA,
and squad 6, Shewish Drive-Thru, with 13, Bobs and Wolves, and team 4, Silent But
Deadly, plus 18, Captains of Industry just a tad farther back.MAGA (squad 17) at 3 to
1 has the best possibility of upsetting the Gigolos; after all, Trump doesn't lose
much of anything, does he? Mr. (or should I say Commander In Chief?) Trump and
Kharadmon make for a formidable combo. And one can never count out the Shews (team 6).
At 4 to 1, OAB and Assur are set to show their stuff. Food and cars and very smart
gentlemen; they are in it to win it. Two squads sit at 6 to 1, the Bobs & Wolves (team
13) and The Deadlies (squad 4). The B&W's have two things against them; their name and
the unlucky designation of team 13. Otherwise, they could have rivaled the Gigolos.
And never count out the killers, Mannequin The Murderer and Snake In The Grass
Khisanth. A mean team! Close behind them are The Captains Of Industry (What a cool and
formidable name!) List them at 13 to 2.
THE GOOD CHANCES
Having a good chance is sort of like drawing a way outside lane in The Derby. Not
the best position, but skill and ability can move one to the forefront. Six squads are
in similar position and all sit at 11 to 1 odds. Solid chances and not at all long
shots. These are teams 8, 10, 11, 14, 19 and 20.
F/X (Squad 19) has Otto and many, many mentors, hence their brain trust may just
pull them through. Watch out for them. Team 10, Alternate Facts, has all those famous
lawyers counseling, and if loopholes are found, they could go all the way. Holding
them back could be the German, Jerman, who may not be germane. Beware, when one
combines the whole 1st Div. with the 3rd Mech, one has a formidable team, and the
Rough Necks (Squad 14) will pull out all the guns necessary to make their case. Squad
11, Cannibal Specters, has much of the bookie world buffaloed. But they are known to
have a lot of surprises up their combined sleeves. And anyone who starts at the bottom
of the world, well.... Squad 20, Pain In The Otis can be a formidable pairing.
Anything that hurts so bad it feels good, bears watching. Rune Force, team 8, is full
of possibilities. If those runes get going, and all five forces come to bear, then
watch out Slaughterhouse!
THE COULD GET LUCKIES
They say getting lucky takes work. Was that Vince Lombardi who coined that
phrase? Or Thomas Jefferson? Lombardi and Jefferson would probably win this
competition. Some other thoughts on luck:
"Luck is the residue of design." -- Thomas Milton
"Luck is a word the bitter teach the ignorant." -- Steve Maraboli
"Look out for luck. You can't trust luck." -- John Steinbeck, The Grapes Of Wrath
So do any of these six have it? Some have some skill. Some have some fine
warriors. Some probably don't. Listed at 20 to 1 is squad 2, T Rotten. Baranabas and
Gunsmith? Sounds like an old television rerun. And close behind, at least as far as
Vegas is concerned, at 22 to 1, is CONSCRIP, team 12. Been around a long time; haven't
won anything pertinent in years. Squad 9, Phantom Blades comes off at 25-1. It is nice
to see Hammer back from the old folks home, but... Two are rated at 30 to 1 odds;
FROGZ (squad 1) and Dead Time (team 15). Look, everyone knows the Frenchies never have
any luck (except maybe in the bedroom); perhaps they chose the wrong game? Black Heart
with Gentleben? That last name says it all, and explains the 30 to 1 for Team 15. They
can be funny, but can they be lucky? Finally, checking in at 40 to 1 odds are The
Deplorable team 5 combining Spirit and Street. No way the other competitors are not
going to allow any deplorable team to win the prestigious Slaughterhouse. Nope.
So there you have it. Let's summarize:
Gigolos: 1 to 1 Rune: 11 to 1
MAGA: 3 to 1 TRotten: 20 to 1
Shews: 4 to 1 CONSCRIP: 22 to 1
Bob Wolves: 6 to 1 Blades: 25 to 1
Deadlies: 6 to 1 FROGZ: 30 to 1
Industry: 13 to 2 DeadTime: 30 to 1
F/X: 11 to 1 Deplorable: 40 to 1
Facts: 11 to 1 M1M2: 500,000 to 1
Roughnecks: 11 to 1 TWiX: 500,000 to 1
Cannibals: 11 to 1 Editors: 1,000,000 to 1
Pain: 11 to 1
Personally I am placing some easy money on those G-Vegas Gigolos and a side bet
on CONSCRIP. I expect to be rich when this is all over. Good luck to you on your
betting.
-- Dr. U.N., Internationals
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
The room in which they sat was now quiet. There were no more of the Stormcrowe
arena fans remaining in the seating that was a mere ten feet above the hewn stone
ceiling. The only noise was from the breathing of the four warriors and the
occasional drip of their blood-stained sweat upon the flagstones. The fishoil lamp
provided only limited light and gave off the scent of a whaling vessel that had been
too long at sea.
None of them spoke a word. They had all failed, and there would be words in
excess when their Lord, Sin Zoo, arrived. He had recruited them all from various
parts of Alastari with the hope of gladiatorial glory in the famed Slaughterhouse
tournament.
And yet, they had all been beaten this day upon the sands of the arena. One of
them was even abed in the infirmary this very moment, being treated for his wounds and
clinging to life itself.
The door creaked open and then closed with the sound of an iron bolt being
thrown, but none of them would even look up. Both dread and anticipation lived in
them now as they waited for the man whom they represented, to speak. When the words
came, they were spoken with unsettling calm and resounded quietly in the stone room.
"Is it the fact of the matter, that you have all had your fill and just want to
go home now?" The question had the desired effect, stunning the gladiators in the
room to look at him with confusion on their faces. Sin Zoo stood near the door in the
officer's uniform that had he had earned decades earlier, with the blood that would
stain earned today. His body was rigidly calm and his face seemed to be chiseled from
stone. his eyes wee hard and calculating as he waited for a response to the question.
Another few hard moments passed as he eyed each of his warriors in turn and knew
that none would speak. "It appears to me... and probably everyone watching today --
that our first round success was either a fluke, or the limits of your capabilities.
We were so close to the top that Master Darque and Lord Assur even gave me their
acknowledgements."" The warriors knew that such congratulations from two of the most
acclaimed managers in all of Alastari would be a high to Sin Zoo. His eyes narrowed
as he continued, "I was incredibly proud of you when I learned that we were even
ranked above that smug Consortium Rep and his partner Crip with his bought-and-paid-
for group of ringers."
The mention of the highly funded Conscripts squad caused muscles to flex and
fists to clinch throughout the room. "You all must have felt indestructable... why
else would you have spent last night drinking and whoring in the red lantern district,
only to return two hours before the dawn this very morning?" Sin Zoo gave them a
moment to let the revelry of the evening set in so that his men could see its actual
cost upon them. "So I'll ask you again. Do you want to go home or stay and fight?"
Leather Neck was the first to slowly stand, causing pain to shoot through his
entire body. With an unwavering and deep voice he said, "My life I devote to Sin Zoo
and the 1st Division. I will not stop until I lay face sown in the sand." The
statement was copied by all the warriors as they came to their feet. Devil Dog,
Master Guns, and Recon joined Leather Neck in standing spine straight with their
chests out. None of them twitched as they waited to see if Sin Zoo would accept their
oath.
After a few moments he spoke. "Your brother, Grunt, is in the arena infirmary
and will need to stay there for a few days, but he will live and fight again. I
expect nothing but training out of the lot of you until the next round. There will be
time for play after this tournament has ended and we have survived. Morning and
evening training sessions, because I believe we can correct some weaknesses I have
seen." Reaching for the door and swinging it wide, he said, "This last round was only
one battle that we miserably lost... but the war is still within our grasp. Every
waking moment, from this point forward, think on how you want to be remembered and
about the group you represent." With that, he left his warriors to think about the
future, closing the door behind him and walking toward his chambers.
The chant started as he rounded the first corner and headed for the stairs that
left this sublevel. "1st Division... 1st Division," they shouted over and again, and
even at this distance and through the rock it could be heard clearly.
Climbing the second set of stairs, he mumbled to himself, "We shall see."
-- Sin Zoo (1st Division) Squad #14
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
WELCOME TO THE OTTODROME
Welcome, visitors, to the Ottodrome. The Ottodrome is an immersive experience of
sight and sound, sensation and thought, combat, consciousness and imagination. For
your safety we must insist that you keep your arms, legs and minds inside the ride at
all times. Ottodrome International, LLC and its parent company, OXF Holdings, are not
responsible for injuries, mental, physical, or emotional which may result from your
failure to follow all safety guidelines or staff instructions.
The Ottodrome environment is created by the psyche of its namesake and may
include images, thoughts, ideas, and concepts that may be disturbing to some visitors.
Parental guidance is strongly recommended. Trained counselors are available at the
conclusion of your visit for anyone requiring assistance in recovering from such
trauma.
Upon arriving at the facility, you will first be directed to the visitor
screening area. There, each visitor will be screened by our staff professionals for
any physical defects or emotional instability. We regret that not every patron will
be able to experience the Ottodrome, and those rejected for admittance are invited to
relax in the recuperation lounge while waiting for any companions to complete the
experience. Complimentary snacks, beverages and cocktails will be served during this
period.
If you are approved for entry, your visitor badge will receive a red approval
stamp and you will proceed as directed through to the entry vestibule. Items
forbidden beyond this point include: cameras, photographic equipment or recording
devices of any kind, tobacco products, firearms, explosives, flammable liquids, strong
pornography, corduroy jackets and saccharin.
Upon entering the Ottodrome you may experience one or more of the following:
Out-of-body experience, feelings of abandonment, loss of self, identity crises, sense
of betrayal, delusions of competence, divorce, spastic colon, nausea, disorientation,
general hopelessness and ennui. Generally these effects are not permanent, but some
may be severe. Please allow for adequate recovery time before making further plans.
We at Ottodrome International wish thank you for choosing to visit us. We realize
that you have a choice in entertainment options and hope you enjoy your visit.
Postcards, souvenirs and other merchandise are available for purchase in the gift
shop.
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Wednesdays were always a hectic day at the Allied Axis compound. To support the
many teams in the field, there seemed to be a constant line of replacement warriors
auditioning for a coveted position on one of the many Allied Axis teams strategically
placed throughout the arenas of Alastari. This day Den sat upon the dais with a
furrowed brow, the auditioning procedure had come to the point that the AA affectingly
called "Gulag". "Bust a deal, spin the wheel. There are many options on the wheel,
some celebrate life, some celebrate death, others fall somewhere between the two, fate
will help you make your choice. Your time is near, spin the wheel, accomplish the
task and you are that mtween the two, fate will help you make your choice. Your time
is near, spin the wheel, accomplish the task and you are that much closer to becoming
an apprentice of the Allied Axis," Den explained to the well-muscled young warrior
that stood before the dais.
The warrior had journeyed through many hardships to get to this point. The
anticipation was written over his expectant face, he was about to achieve an
impossible dream, to believe that he was a few tasks away from an apprenticeship in
the Allied Axis was almost more than his young heart could sustain. He slowly
approached the wheel where he noted many different tasks written along the outer rim,
none of them very explanative. He passed caution to the wind and grabbed the wheel
and gave it a mighty spin. The letters became a blur as they spun, the colors melding
together in an almost beautiful pattern of eagerness. What would it be, what indeed.
The wheel slowed and the names became legible once again, he saw an option called "The
Brother's Hand" approach the pointer, and did not notice the glee in Den's face as it
approached. The pointer hovered over "The Brother's Hand" for a brief second and then
the wheel slid a single spot and the pointer came to rest on "Diminutive Horde".
"The choice has been made, live or die, this will be very unsettling for the both
of us," Den explained as the warrior stared blankly at him.
"What must I do, should I-" the warrior began to ask, but before he could finish
his question several doors around the room were flung open. He stood frozen in fear
at what might come through those doors, and was slightly relieved when over a dozen
children looking to be around ten years old rushed at him. The color drained from his
face when we realized they were not wearing smiles, but instead were painted with a
grimace of hate, their teeth bared forward in snarls of rage and their fists clenching
small clubs. He did not know what to do, certainly he was not to harm these small
children, what type of sick test could that possible be? The answer came in sharp
pain as the blows began to rain upon his body from all sides, the small clubs
answering the question and making a statement. The assault was relentless, the
children screaming in glee as they exerted themselves. Quickly the warrior spun out
of the circle, grabbing one child as he did so, lifting him high into the air in a
weak attempt to block the many blows pounding him. There was a sickening thud as
several clubs struck the small child turned human-shield in the head; he went limp in
the warrior's hand. Throwing him into the fray knocking several other children down
the warrior positioned himself, gripping his sword in both hands. Once again, the
children spun upon him, but this time he was ready, he pulled his sword still not
knowing if he was passing or failing this test, but he would ask that question if he
survived.
-- Submitted by Den and the Big Lake Killers
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
From Philthy Phil and the Ice-n-Fire team.
Philthy Phil sat alone, at his table, inside the Cumon' Inn. Phil was a big man,
a strong man, a filthy man. Which explains why he sat alone. He just arrived in
Stormcrowe, and was supposed to meet Crambus, at the Cumon' Inn, this very evening.
Phil was anxious to get the meeting over with, as the arena fight were almost
concluded, and soon the dark arena fights would begin. He loved the dark arena fights
the most, and often sent his warriors there, just for the simple joy of watching them.
Here in Stormcrowe the dark arena was busy, as the arena had recently been flooded
with some very average managers, like Vlad, Stik, and Womanta. Their ability to fight
and train a full team was almost always in question. Philthy Phil was new to
Stormcrowe, as well, having arrived just a few turns ago, along with Den, to win the
Slaughter House 5 contest. It was typical Allied Axis behavior to support contests all
across Alastari. Their are few alliances that give so much back to the dueling
community, as the Allied Axis.
Philthy passed the time by playing mumbly-peg, with his dagger. He loved this
dagger. It was a gift, from the mighty General Ikillu, who had taken it from a Rirorni
Commander. There was not another like it. The blade was made of a metal that seemed to
capture the light, then reflect it back with an almost soft and pulsing glow. The
handle was an intricate design of horses, that climbed upwards, and the pommel being
made from two of the heads with teeth barred, facing different directions. It was
rumored that the man that carried this blade could ride a horse faster, and longer,
than any other. Philthy wasn't certain about that, and it was hard for him to discount
that rumor as well, for he had a habit of sleeping as he rode anyway. He found few
things as relaxing as having a few tankards of ale, and then letting the rhythmic
rocking of the horse put him to sleep. Granted, he often found himself in strange
destinations (not as strange as the consortium crew, like outside an orphanage
window), by letting the horse take him where it would, but how could you get somewhere
you've never been, without taking a different path...
Phil looked up from his game of mumbly-peg as another manager came through the
door. It was not Crambus, so he put his attention back on his game. Few played mumbly-
peg, but Phil did. He was actually quite good at the game. Dancing the blade between
his fingers with the ease of an insane acrobat. Certainly he would catch the side of a
finger at times, and the blood would flow as a result, but these times were not
frequent, and most of the scars on his left hand were from years past. He practiced so
hard, because he wanted to be ready for next year's Alastari's mumbly-peg
championships. It was finally going to be held at his home arena of Niytyole Island!
And he knew that this was his year! Earning that distinction would mean more to him
than the constant scores of victories and kills he has racked up against the charlatan
Deeders, over the years. The Chief Justice Bill, had granted the honor of destroying
Dweebers' hopes and dreams to Philthy Phil(along with the esteemed title of 9th in
Command), and he has embraced that honor with extreme joy and great success.
The dagger flew between Phil's fingers, his form getting better all the time.
Then, suddenly, his concentration was broken, as he heard a ruckus outside the front
door. The sounds were the unmistaken noises of a tussle, and then, suddenly, the front
door flew open, as a body was thrown through it. Following the body was another large
man, this one just as big as Phil. They locked eyes and nodded, finally the Head Court
Jester, Crambus, had arrived. Now, they could get down to business.....
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
So apparently we need to write a DM or fantasy related spotlight in order to
receive maximum points this turn. Why is this so important?!? What reason could we
possibly have to fill up our newsletter and mailboxes with a bunch of nonsense. Well
I'm certainly not going to miss out on the points...
Since nobody is going to read these spotlights anyways, my first thought was just
to recycle on of my spotlights from DM 93. Easy and done. But then I realized that
is a bad idea. If even one person accidently read it and became a better manager for
it, I could hinder my own chances to win this silly little contest. Granted it is a
very long shot that both of those things would happen, but why take even a very tiny
chance.
My next idea for a spotlight was to pick on Den, the AA, and/or the IC. While
that could certainly be fun, it isn't original. Plus, all men have breaking points.
Even the seemingly untouchable Den. I actually like Den. Why would I want to
contribute to his or someone else's breaking point! Much better to contribute to
their encouragement and willingness to keep playing this game. But that makes for a
poor spotlight. Plus 31 lines is a lot of material.
How about I write about all the warriors I've seen in action here in Stormcrowe?
Now there is an idea! People would be able to challenge those warriors knowing
exactly what they are facing, not just a style! Very tempting and the Delarq part of
me would like to do that and smile! But once again, my concept of morality and who I
want to be known as comes back into focus and I must decline this topic as well.
Maybe I could take my joke of an idea and make it into a spotlight. Certainly
there is more than a small amount of truth in it! Darque moderating this contest is
setting the bar for contest moderation at a height not seen since the Morya Madness
contest. That contest drove Hammer to retirement. I can only hope this one doesn't
do the same to Darque. While I could fill the content length and Darque does deserve
the accolades, it is not something I think he wants. Better to thank him in private
and continue my prayers (which do more for him than words ever could) for a good
friend!
What about saying how great the Shewish Drive-Thru is? Who am I fooling? Even if
it were true, it isn't my style.
I could explain in a spotlight how I name my teams and warriors. But once again,
the content length would not work. Plus I can describe that well in much fewer words:
I pick a topic, add Bash Bros (or BB for short) in front of it, and then name the
warriors things around that topic that I find annoying (with a very loose definition
of annoying).
Clearly I am at a loss for what to write in a spotlight. But to get those
points, I'll do what I have to do! Nobody will read it. I could probably just put
random words together on a page and sign my name and it'd be all good. And next time,
I'll have to remember. If it requires a newsletter full of spots, I probably don't
want to participate!
-- Assurnasirbanipal, Bash Bros Cars
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Stormcrowe Recreation
By Crip, Mgr of Avid Fans
The wonderful land of Alastari has a wide and varied climate including arid
plains, icy mountains, humid swamps. Even the changing seasons bring variety to the
weather and local environments. Here in Stormcrowe, it has been known to have a
significant impact on the pastimes of our local gladiatorial managers.
For example, here on this early spring morning, we can see Consortium Rep, U.N.,
off for his morning run through the nearby forest glades. Sometime his cardio-
exercises go on for hours and hours. Dameon Darkheart likes to head off to the
local quarry and crush boulders instead of little candies. Var is rarely seen far
from DD, as he looks for edible crumbs to strengthen his new team. Over on the
opposite side of the quarry, Spirit and Mannequin have fashioned primitive barbells
from some fallen logs and are spotting each other as they go through a weight training
routine.
Floyd and The Muffin Man have broken out their bicycles and have taken off for an
extended ride through the hillsides. As we follow them past a meadow, you can clearly
see that Den and Philthy Phil are attempting some classic yoga poses like "flowering
pansy" and "downward facing dog".
Across the way at the village square, Presstoe and Bubbaganoosh, have undertaken
some sparring, utilizing some ju-jitsu techniques, but neither one seems to really
know what they are doing. On the other hand, Sin Zoo and Catalyst both seem to have
suffered multiple facial contusions as their various karate moves are met with little
defence.
Over at the sportsfield, a little game of basketball has broken out. Khisanth has
been trying to organize his teammates OAB (One-Armed Basketballer), Assur, Rune and
Blackhart into his vaunted triangle offence, but truth be told, his coaching
instructions seem to be beyond the athletic capabilities of his squad. This means
that their opposition, consisting of Painmaster, Otis the Drunk, Kharadmon, Nomad and
Hammer, while not particularly talented, are being successful in crashing the boards
to take a significant lead in their game.
Landed immigrants La Guillotine and Le Pentarque are clearly not impressed with
the team sport on display and are trying to encourage others into some other activity,
which no one else seems to understand. "Venez-ici, on va jouer un p'tit peu de
football", "C'est facile, frappez le ballon avec tes pieds. Ne touchez pas le ballon
avec vos mains", "Si le nom du jeu implique les pieds, pourquoi est-ce que vous pensez
que vous pouvez toucher le ballon avec vos mains?"
Street Legal, Jerman, Vlad, Manta, Howlin' Wolf, Gentleben, Otto X, Dr. F &
Donald Trump are all being completely confused by the local francophones (Trump, in
particular, seems to have an extremely perplexed look on his face, but what else is
new there). While not being particularly active this morning, they seem to be
offering counterarguments such as "How in the world can anyone be expected to play
football without touching the ball with their hands?", and "How can you get points if
there's no touchdowns or field goals?"
Meanwhile Barnabas, Gunsmith, Darque, Deeders & Stud Craft have taken all of the
oblong ovalish-shaped air-filled balls that the football players had dragged out, and
are tossing them in the air while the others in their group try to deflate them by
puncturing them mid-air by using bow & arrows. None of them seem to have thought
about what will happen once all the balls have been punctured.
Off by himself, Crip has taken a pair of steel bladed shoes down to the pond with
a curved stick and a frozen cow patty, and everyone else is completely clueless as to
what he might be up to. However, upon arriving at the pond and failing to walk on
water, he mutters something about a broken Zamboni and heads home.
Meanwhile, Barnabas, Gunsmith, Darque, Deeders and Stud Craft have managed to
have managed to puncture all the oblong balls, and not being creative enough to come
up with an idea of what else to shoot, they decide to turn in for the day.
Street Legal, Jerman, Vlad, Manta, Howlin' Wolf, Gentleben, Otto X, Dr. F and
Donald Trump only now realize that they their oblong balls have been absconded with,
and set off in chase of the perpetrators.
La Guillotine and Le Pentarque head off in pursuit of their fellow football
fanatics. "Une pause? On ne pause pas pendant un match de football", "Revenez-ici".
The basketball players, having had their game reach a rather lopsided score, seem
more interested in what the other teams are doing. Painmaster, Otis the Drunk,
Kharadmon, Nomad, Hammer, Khisanth, OAB, Assur, Rune and Blackhart are avidly
discussing where to stop for refreshments on the way back.
The martial artists are all showing signs of fatigue by now. Still no signs of
wounds on Presstoe and Bubbaganoosh; whereas, Sin Zoo and Catalyst are barely
recognizable through their bruises. They decide it is probably best to stop by the
village healer on the way back.
Den and Philthy Phil appear to have endured some significant rips in their yoga
pants, and sneak back to the seamstress before re-appearing in public.
Floyd and The Muffin Man are no longer riding their bicycles, as their tires have
gone flat; however, they too have decided the day of exercise is still drawing to a
close.
Spirit, Mannequin, Dameon Darkheart and Var are all making their way back from
the quarry, sharing fist-bumps and high-fives over their daily achievements.
As the sun sets, everyone makes their way to the village pub. The cool spring
air is getting rather brisk as the sun sets, bringing everyone close to the flickering
flames of the wood fire. Everyone has taken to discussing the gladiatorial duels
which are scheduled to take place the next day. As the hours continue on, the
temperature continues to fall, and more logs are added to the fire. The spring dew
collecting on the grass is starting to crystallize. As the beverages start settling
in everyone's bellies, their eyelids get heavier and heavier. Almost everyone, except
for the Consortium Rep, U.N., who people are only noticing now, hasn't returned from
his run.
As everyone makes their way out of the pub, they glance over the pond with its
shimmering reflection of the star-filled sky and across the meadow towards the forest
and catch some jittery movements among the freshly budding deciduous trees.
Mannequin draws chuckles from everyone as he quickly interjects, "Ahh, spring, a
great time when you know everything is coming back to life because the sap is still
running through the trees".
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
YOU GET WHAT YOU NEED
I saw her today at the reception
In her glass was a bleeding man
She was practiced at the art of deception
Well I could tell by her blood-stained hands
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you just might find
You just might find
You get what you need
--- The Rolling Stones
There was a momentary flash of a beyond with the rainbow combination of colors
that blended and faded together, before exploding both together and individually in a
seemingly slow motion array of time and space mutilation and cohesiveness that seemed
to span the lengths of the universe, as well as the inner regions of the multi-verse:
all coupled and blended and multiplied by a cacophony of sounds and various minute,
numberless sensations that assailed the bodies and emotions and minds of those who had
now come into the extreme contact of the forces unleashed by the object that was held
aloft in the hand of a well-known veteran manager, at least to those who had been
around ages ago when he had first arrived and then chosen to stay among those who had
found this far off place of sand-dancing mayhem and....
Yes, Dear Reader: the time has once more come for both Contest Veterans and
Contest Newbies to take pen in hand upon paper, to transfer their thoughts with
dancing fingers upon the keyboards of laptops and other more known modern devices to
paint a picture of words and phrases into a maelstrom of various thoughts or questions
or queries or statements or just plain gibberish as the Slaughterhouse Five
contestants make their feeble attempts, as is the case for anyone not motivated to
apply their literary skills any other time of the year, or for the more trail-worn and
battle-hardened contestants to find new and refreshing ways to convey either their
enthusiasm, or their disdain, for being forced to find a way to concoct a story or
series of unrelated momentary thoughts and ideas into a somewhat cohesive collection
of words as well as sentences to not only entertain you, Dear Reader, but to qualify
their time and effort to gain 5 points in Round Three (3) of the festivities that are
gaining momentum in Arena 45.
So it is that Hammer the WordSmith is doing his part to not only entertain, but
more importantly, to also fatten the content of the DM-45 Turn-387 Duel 2 Newsletter!
Imagine the consternation of the manifold and virtually unknown Mail Carriers assigned
the task of delivering these Newsletters! Also, how many more countless minutes per
Newsletter it may take for Green Eyes and the rest of the RSI Gang to print out this
multitude of mindless mayhem and hopefully, a multitude of intellectual gems hidden
among all the Team Spotlights that are to be compiled in the latter part of July 2017
in our own reality in the office or offices of Reality Simulations? I for one am
looking forward to enjoying the reading of all these Team Spotlights, as I motivate
myself to get my own written, while you all wonder what points I am making?
The answer is quite simple, Dear Reader: I am making 5 points for my Abattoir 5
Blades, which is more than double the number of points that my collection of
underachieving warriors have currently been able to accumulate over the course of the
previous two Rounds!
Which now brings us to the following:
"Where have you brought me?" asked a bewildered Stormm Krow, as she steadied
herself from the as must be understood, unexpected journey that the veteran manager
had suddenly brought her through the Time/Space/Dimensional Warpings of the Mind and
Senses, as she controlled her urges to (quite a bit understandably) vomit upon the
floor of her as-yet-unknown destination in another place and another time reality, or
unreality, as the case may be! "Where... What is... this Place? And Who are....."
"These are some of my friends," explained the veteran manager, as he took the
time to introduce the beautiful, but battle-worn, Shagornan Elf to the current
clientele. "And this is the Red Dragon Inn. This is where Nomad and I have been
hanging out for years! We get to swap yarns and hear about some of the derring-do in
countless fantasy worlds and realms created by the imaginations of some of the finest
gamers that I have ever had the honor and privilege of meeting and gaming among! We
specialize in the written words of both Master and Novice Story Telling! Much like
writing Team Spotlights in the Duel 2 Newsletters, but more Intense and Compelling
from among the ranks of those who are Playing a Game!"
Stormm Krow surveyed her new surroundings, accepting the Elven Ale that was
offered her to drink, as she found an empty table with two chairs, where she could
confer in private with the veteran manager.
But before she could voice her concerns about the poor showing of the Abattoir 5
Blades, who had been left in her charge, the veteran manager raised his hand, palm
outward, as a sign of peace and no malice.
"Do not worry your pretty little battle-scarred head about the performance of my
Abattoir 5 Blades," replied the veteran manager in a soothing and comforting tone.
"Hammer has always been known more for his WordSmith Stories than his prowess on the
Sands of the Alastari Arenas! I derive greater pleasure in entertaining my friends
and friendly foes with my stories than I do with my Arena Records! The DM 45
Slaughterhouse Contest merely provides me the amusement of reading the Team
Spotlights, plus the Personal Ads, as well as anticipating whether or not my warriors
Live or Die! Watching all of my guild members Survive and Graduate seems to be good
enough for me in my Elder Age!
Anyone See Nomad?"
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
WHEN GHOSTS GATHER
There was a chill in the air of the Phantom Regiment Guildhall as the squad
gathered after the second round of the contest, but then, this particular guildhall
always had a bit of a chill to it. It was impossible to enter and not notice it. At
least that was what the living said when they entered. The gladiators themselves
never seemed to pay much attention to the temperature. Which made it rather odd that
they sat around a fire in a stone pit in the center of the room, the fire casting its
light in dancing shadows around the room but providing very little heat before the
smoke wound its way out of a small hole in the ceiling. The fighters seemed to
appreciate the play of light and shadow.
Standing was a gangly man whose "head was small, and flat on top, large green
glassy eyes, and a long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weather-cock perched up
on his spindle neck to tell which way the wind blew... his clothes bagging and
fluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the genius of famine descending
upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a field." (Credit to Washington Irving)
Such was the figure of Ichabod Crane who, since Jacob Marley had moved on to Advanced,
was the leader of the group.
Those that saw him were surprised to discover that he was a gladiator, instead
thinking he would have fit better in a classroom or, in truth, a graveyard. But
somehow old Ichabod appeared to have skipped that step and stood before the group with
sword in hand and on closer examination appeared to have left his bumbling ways behind
him with his mortal life. He spoke to the other four gathered in front of him.
"Nicely done. The 4-1 this past turn will help turn this contest around for us."
"I know, I know -- I got the loss. But I'll keep Truckin'." This came from
another one of the spirits in the room who, despite his name, did not seem
particularly grateful at the moment -- Grateful Dead. Nor did he seem any more like a
gladiator than Ichabod who stood above him. He was a bit heavy, bearded and sat in a
room full of gladiators holding not a piece of steel, but a guitar. Like all the
others he was tinged with a Touch of Grey.
Another one of the apparitions shook his head at this. "Come on, G.D., we all
know sometimes the chips aren't worth a damn. Those kinda challenges happen, but if
they got the warrant from the commission, I guess they're going to come into the
arena. As you said, all you can do is keep on Truckin'. Stayin' Alive -- whatever
that means, eh?" The one who spoke looked nothing like the previous two. For
starters, he looked the part of a gladiator -- athletic and coordinated. But he also
looked... 'damp' was the only word likely to come to the mind of a visitor to this
chill room. He looked damp and grey with a touch of what appeared to be seaweed
sticking out from his clothing. But more than anything, he had an air of mystery
about him. Everything he did -- his words, his actions and even his clothing --
seemed to leave the viewer wondering what had just happened. He was a hard man to
figure out and that slight hesitation had helped him in the arena more than once.
"Stayin' Alive??!" spat Grateful Dead, "That one ain't mine!" Shaking his head
he added, "Check out College Radio, they probably know that stuff. Decades dead it
is. And needs to stay that way."
The final two seemed a bit more normal. At least normal for a group of Phantoms,
if that was possible. Prowler wandered the edges of the room, always seeming to find
the shadows cast by the fire in its center. He wore dark clothes and seemed to play
with a long curving blade. It was hard to say more than that about him as the
observer somehow never quite managed to get a straight look. He didn't add to the
conversation, but silently moved about on the edges.
The final member of the group was Spectre. He was the smallest and seemed to
almost blend in with the chair he sat on and the shifting firelight. When nobody else
spoke, the small gray apparition's voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at
once. "Speakin' of Truckin', are we going to the upcoming tournament? G.D.'s fan
club will be disappointed if we don't show up. Those freaks follow him everywhere."
"You're just jealous, Spec, nobody follows you around or names an ice cream in
your honor. Even without winning I'm more famous than you."
Ichabod, trying to control the group, just shook his head at the old songster
saying, "Well at least we know they can't revoke your soul for trying to win a few."
He looked around at the others in the room and moved on to the question that had been
asked. "Yes, we should be making it to Kansas City, although I don't think the boss
will be there with us. In fact, we should get packing. I want to leave a bit early.
I'm a bit worried about the trip there. There are stories about people disappearing
along the road... it is worrisome."
The rest of the group looked at him a bit oddly, but got up to go. From the
darkness at the edge of the room Prowler's low voice could be heard, "Ich, forget
about it. WE are now the things that go bump in the night...."
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Dueling gallantly is the dream of any gladiator, but how could we be jolly if we
are not provided with the bare necessities?
A seasoned veteran can slip on a sand still wet from previous fights. A gleaming
sword can quickly break without maintenance. An oversized helmet can blind the
fiercest wall of steel. How true, but as our old gladiatorial glory, The Little Cat
from dm81, once said, "A warrior can reach the throne under the rain, on wet sand,
with his bare hands, if he gets proper food!"
So, when the ferocious, bright and beautiful La Guillotine sent his bersekers on
the road to glory, he quickly came back disappointed. His guys ran, shouted, hit like
headless white rabbits on drugs but after one or two mimutes dropped from exhaustion.
They couldn't stand long only with Stormcrowe greasy burgers! He couldn't bring them
the finest delicacies from Aruak, but at least he could do something for the bread...
and LA BOULANGE success story was born.
Maitre Boulanger recruited the toast of his art:
- L'apprenti, the future of baking
- Le Fourner, the king of ovens
- Petit Pain, the master of Bonsur pastries
- Gluten Free, the diabolic propagandist of ugly low-fat stuff.
Success seemed easy at first. Hundreds of starving customers crowded the little
bakery, the oven was blazing all-night long and prize-money jumped frome the pockets
of happy gladiators. Alas, disaster was not far. The five bread-mongers found harder
each day to serve so many violent and hungry customers (Scandal Savage!). When
Simpletons meet Bash Bros and a Pony Brigade meet in your classy boutique, what can
you do? Run for cover, reach for the shovels?
Finally, Maitre Boulanger had to pay some arena training to the crew. The Master
happened to be as good with a sword as with a pack of chestnut flour. For the others,
it was not so easy but they learned to use their strong points: a man who can shovel
huge breads from dawn to dusk can also break a head with his white maul, so they found
a way to enjoy the sands. Gluten Free fought a little too nasty, trying to slice the
fat from opponents begging for mercy, but complaints were soothed with carrot cakes.
Now, a balance has been found between fighting and cooking. Once a month, after a
week of reinforced training, the bakers fight in Stormcrowe with their famous
advertising armors. The night after the fight, if everyone is still alive, free cakes
are offered to all the other teams, with double portion to anyone had the courtesy to
lose against a baker. The remaining weeks, they work on cooking good stuff and make
the doughnuts' minions cry.
-- Le Pentarque, food-dealer
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
The full moon hung heavy in the deep, dark blackness, shining a spotlight onto
the monolith-covered hilltop below. What few clouds there were avoided the moon,
afraid of being burned away by the unearthly brightness. The circle of monoliths on
the rounded hill absorbed the moonlight, making them almost shine on one side while
creating sinister pockets of shadow on the other. Inside the towering stones were
circles of stone benches, one inside the other. Circles upon circles. Figures sat
on, perched on, stood on, and even laid upon the benches. The robed figures appeared
unaffected by the eerie tableau, or the haunting moon, or by the lone figure clad in a
black robe striding up the well-worn path. The figure carried a black, leather-bound
book in one hand, a skull in the other, the skull polished to a high sheen. That
figure is me and the skull belonged to Yore of Ick. I can't help but wonder what
possessed a people to name a town Ick. Was the town itself that bad? The landscape
pathetically poor? Was there a noxious smell? Many times I joked with Yore that they
named the town after him. Yore took it all with great mirth, though, a classic bard
through and through. I pause in my journey to the center of the innermost circle and
raise the ivory skull to eye level. Alas, poor Yore of Ick, I knew him well.
I step to the middle of the innermost circle, the very top of the hill, to the
rock slab that is the perfect height to act as my podium.
I bang the skull on top of the slab three times -- Yore always did have a hard
head -- and the conversations die down.
"I bring you all a proposition." I open simply. "I will not coerce you, though I
can. I will not beg you. I want you to do this of your own free will and to better
the world around you." A tad thick maybe, but it will have to do.
"Under every stone lurks a politician." murmured a man in a blue robe.
"You must be Aristophanes," I reply, recognizing one of the poet's well known
phrases. The man merely nods.
"Politician, no. Arena manager, yes," I counter. "My proposal is simple. I
will resurrect each of you that will fight for me on the arena sands."
"Fight?" Aristophanes asked incredulously. "I am a poet. Let each man exercise
the art he knows."
"They can conquer who believe they can," the man in green retorts. I think about
the phrase for a moment, and then snap my fingers in recognition. "Virgil! Well met,
sir. Virgil is right. Each of you has the ability to win in the arena."
"And you have fought in the arena?" Virgil asked.
"I have. I have killed a few and fought many."
"Trust one who has gone through it," Virgil replied sagely. Again, another
quote. I begin to wonder if that's all these ghost of poets remember.
"Wise words. I've even died a few times after becoming immortal, so I know what
that's like, too."
"Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so
it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call,"
stated a woman in yellow.
I recognize the quote from Sylvia Plath. This is starting to feel like a bad
Ancient Literature class.
"Yes, Sylvia, dying can occur, and while you may be good at it, I would ask that
you hold off exercising your call as long as possible."
"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream," the man in red quotes.
"That may very well be, Mr Poe, but I guarantee you this is not a dream."
"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream
only by night," replied Edgar.
Another quote. This is getting ridiculous. Next I'll be hearing about Shaka
when the walls fell.
"Although it is indeed night, this is most definitely not a dream. The book I
have here has the incantations necessary to bring you back to life -- on this very
night."
"Freedom lies in being bold," the last man on the first row of benches states. I
wrack my brain knowing this has got to be a quote, but I simply can't place it. I
need him to talk more.
"Indeed, good sir. You have two paths before you tonight: the bold one, and
cold one," I revel in my own turn of phrase. Take that, you silly poets.
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -- I took the one less traveled by, and that
has made all the difference," the unknown man in white replied.
Aha! Every first year literature student knew that line.
"Yes indeed, Mr. Frost. Can I take that as your agreement to my proposition?"
Robert Frost paused, dramatically, and then nodded his head.
"Aristophanes? You agree?"
"Quickly, bring me a beaker of wine, so that I may wet my mind and say something
clever," Aristophanes quipped.
"Leave the clever remarks to me. You do the fighting. Agreed?" Aristophanes
nods.
"That's two. Mr. Poe, do you agree?
"I wish I could write as mysterious as a cat," Edgar Alan Poe stated flatly.
"Well, everyone needs a goal, although that is one of the crazier goals I've ever
heard."
"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity," Poe replied, glassy-
eyed.
This was becoming tedious. "You will be the death of me, Poe. Will you consent
to being resurrected to fight in the arena?" Poe's eyes cleared momentarily and he
nodded.
"Excellent. Sylvia? How about you? You are important to my plans."
"Kiss me and you will see how important I am."
"Uhh... can we wait until after you're revived?" Sylvia nodded.
"I'll take that as a yes. That just leaves you, Virgil. Will you join these
other four? I promise, there are many arena foes left for you."
"It never troubles the wolf how many the sheep may be," Virgil replied with a
deadly gleam in his eyes.
Whoa. Finally a warrior, I think. And someone not to turn my back on.
"Fantastic. That makes five, and that makes a team." I open the book to the
bookmarked page and speak the words of resurrection.
"Once you were dead, and now you're not."
The ethereal forms of the ghost poets slowly materialized.
"Seriously? Those were the words?" Frost asked incredulously.
"Oh, come on, what poet-wannabe wrote that?" Poe rolled his eyes.
"What drivel! What swill! Those words desecrate the page!" Aristophanes cried
out.
"Pure poppycock!" Sylvia turned her nose up.
"Enough already!" I yelled, slamming shut the book. At least they weren't
quoting themselves anymore, but my ears had had enough.
"Henceforth, you will be known as the Dead Poets. Follow me to your new home in
Stormcrowe."
"Let us go singing as far as we go: the road will be less tedious," Virgil
suggested, a broad grin on his face.
Another quote! Don't these crazy dead poets ever quit?
"Okay, that's it! No more quoting yourself! No more quoting each other! No
more!" I sputtered, barely getting the words out in my fury. "Never more!"
Edgar Allan Poe simply snickered.
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Team Mentors Spotlight
Brocc Bealsworth sat perched on the third branch from the ground in his favorite
tree, a place he had come to a thousand times before. The faint smell of burning
hickory floated in from the village in the distance. Civilization was out of sight
from this location, but that smell meant winter was coming. Brocc stiffened slightly,
bracing himself against the wind. It definitely carried the chill that would usher in
the winter. The solitude afforded him the chance to think through the various
complexities in his life. He had been thrust into the role of the man of the farm
when his father left to join the battle for Arion. The dark horde threatened to
capture the capital city, and they had to be stopped. All able bodied men of the
valley, and the realm, took up arms and set out to protect the city.
Brocc had understood the logic behind his father's decision to join the battle
now, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. Others knew his father as Shadow,
the best blacksmith in the valley, but to Brocc he is so much more. Still, Shadow's
skill with the forge and the sword were needed and who was he to interfere, and so
Brocc had put on a brave face. How things had changed since that day. Two long
winters had passed and the third fast approached. By all accounts the horde had been
driven from the gates of Arion and back into the Marsh land, but Shadow had not
returned. Brocc was no longer a boy and he longed to show his father all he had
learned.
Jolted from his contemplation by a distant commotion, Brocc peered to the east.
The putrid smell that assaulted his senses betrayed the approach of the hideous
creatures long before they came into sight. It was Orcs, he knew. They made no
attempt to move silently, seemingly breaking every branch as they stumbled through the
trees toward Brocc and the family farm. The creatures had no fear of the haunted
woods during the day. Brocc had seen it all before, of course. The intrusions had
become more and more frequent as winter approached. Two sheep had disappeared
recently, and he suspected the Orcs where back for more. Such vile beings, Orcs,
constantly fighting for control, only to be killed by the next challenger. They have
no discipline in battle and while they possess brute strength many times that of
Broccs', they are virtually devoid of skill. His training had taught him that balance
was the key to swordplay. The Orcs for their part carried large tree branches
fashioned into crude clubs. He had even seen some clever enough to attach smaller
sharpened spikes to the end of their clubs. Intimidating to look at, but no more
effective.
They were getting closer; he could hear them wading through the dense brush in
front of his position. The crack of a large branch splitting just feet from his
position confirmed their arrival. He could see them now; there were three of the
beasts. The one in the middle was considerably taller than the others, standing at
least a full head taller than Brocc -- and Brocc was the tallest of his family. This
Orc bore the wounds of many battles. He must be the leader of this ragtag band. He
barked what were clearly orders at his companions in the guttural language common to
the creatures. The intent became obvious as the smaller Orcs spread out in opposite
directions, periodically glancing back to the big one seemingly seeking approval. A
loud bark from the leader brought them to a halt and confirmed Brocc's suspicion.
They would approach the farm from the southwest corner. That was the shortest
route to the field the sheep where typically grazing in. Taking note of the sun's
position, Brocc realized the Orcs would move quickly. As fierce as an Orc was, the
big ones nearly double the height of a full grown man with horrific tusks protruding
from either side of their toothy maws, they had no desire to be in these woods after
dark. No, Brocc knew they intended to return to their cave in the hills, fresh sheep
in tow, before the sun vanished from the sky. He wasn't going to let that happen.
Sliding the dagger silently free of the hilt on his left hip, Brocc positioned
himself directly above the path of the approaching Orc. The smallest Orc who had been
sent to the left flanking position was now on a course to cross directly under the
tree Brocc was crouching in. He closed his eyes and envisioned the battle, playing
out all the possible scenarios in his head. Orc instinctually flock to the sound of
battle, making surprise key to a quick victory. The smell of the advancing Orc nearly
knocked Brocc from the tree. Nothing smelled that bad. It was incredibly hard to
concentrate on strategy while fighting back the bile threatening the back of his
throat.
Gripping the hilt of his dagger with both hands, Brocc dropped from the tree and
with a mighty thrust drove the blade of his dagger deep into the furry beast. His aim
had been true, pushing the blade clean through the base of the neck and out the other
side. Brocc used the falling Orc to cushion the fall, rolling away from the dead
beast and landing on his feet. The smell coming from the open wound was infinitely
worse, and Brocc had to swallow hard to contain the contents of his stomach.
Brocc's heart sank when he heard the shouts. He knew he had been detected and
the other two were coming. With uncanny speed the leader crashed through the brush to
the left of his position. Brocc didn't have time to retrieve his dagger from the
corpse, and chose to draw the sword from the hilt on his right hip. It was his
masterpiece. He had not named her yet, but planned to soon. He had forged her
himself from iron ore his father had left behind and she was balanced perfectly for
him.
Just then Brocc noticed the larger Orc stop and wave the smaller one forward.
Was this Orc actually capable of strategy? With little time to contemplate that
thought Brocc slashed his sword up and to the left knocking the oncoming club out and
to the right leaving the chest of the oncoming Orc vulnerable to attack. Brocc kicked
hard into the chest of the little one knocking him off balance and sending him
stumbling backwards. Seeing his opportunity, Brocc charged in, slashing his blade
wide right. The poor Orc, thinking he had an opening, came in club lifted high, but
Brocc had seen this predictable move coming. He twisted the sword in his hand and
cocked his wrist ninety degrees, dropped to his knees and brought the blade back
through the previous path in a perfectly executed riposte laying open the Orc from
shoulder to waist. Bleeding immensely and having lost the lust for battle, the Orc
fled back into the woods in the direction they had come from. Brocc knew the poor
creature would die and did not pursue.
The large Orc still stood in the same clearing he had stopped in. Brocc and the
massive Orc locked eyes taking measure of one another. The beast's breathing was even
and calm. This was no ordinary Orc, Brocc knew. There was hatred in those eyes, but
Brocc was more disturbed by the intelligence that was evident. He was calculating the
situation and Orcs where not capable of calculating. His giant black eyes narrowed,
scrutinizing Brocc. Just as Brocc tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, the
Orc captain gave a snort and fled back into the woods.
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Candy Crushers
A tall orc stood alone near the bow of the tattered sloop, The Northwight. Her
mane, the color of midnight, whipped by the tendrils of an approaching storm. Not
even her two companions deigned to approach her, preferring to spend the short voyage
in the hold with their cups, regaling tales of their feats in tournament. Perhaps it
was the fresh scar on her forehead, or perhaps her companions sensed her disdain for
braggarts and drunkards. Could it simply be the she was the only orc aboard? Kit
cared not. She preferred the company of the sea when in this mood, or at least she
was satisfied with this comfort today. Memory is an inconsistent thing and hers more
so of things prior her adaptation upon completing gladiatorial training.
"The sea is fickle mistress." someone once told her. She could not recall who,
but had a vague recollection of an unsteady deck beneath her feet. "She can have the
gentle caress of warm, loving arms but wrong her and her fury rages fiercer than a
scorned lover." Someone was tempting a lover's wrath today for it was no gentle
caress which greeted The Northwight as she sailed from the Aljafir northward toward
Stormcrowe and Kit's temporary home. Still the captain had insisted that "Th'
Northwight will hold fast, don't ye worry. We shall be thar jus' in time fer ye t'
fight!"
Not particularly welcome news. Kit couldn't recall ever backing from a fight,
but her memories of life before the last year were fleeting at best. She had killed a
gladiator in the arena on her challenge the previous cycle. The kill did not trouble
her. In fact, it was quite beneficial to her team in this contest known as Stormcrowe
Slaughterhouse. It was the fifth running of this contest, which meant little to Kit
as she could not recall any of the previous four. No, Kit was concerned that she would
be Bloodfeuded by a gladiator whose style was anathema to hers. Bash and Pez, on the
other hand, were quite excited to get back. Bash and Pez were not their names. Kit's
orcish tongue had difficulty with Butterscotch Basher and Pez Pulverizer, so she kept
with the short names. She couldn't easily utter her own name, Kit Kat Katana, and so
preferred Kit. She was actually quite certain that wasn't her name before. Kit even
doubted she was an orc before the adaptation. Just as well that she had no
recollection. One of her companions, Bash, had been with the stable since its
inception, as had Kit. Pez was a newcomer who was introduced to Kit and Bash on the
Isle of the Eye just before tourney. It was fact that Pez had performed the best of
the three, surprising Kit who had aspirations of achieving Tournament Victor status
herself.
"My Lord," Pez had queried Darkheart, their manager and creator as it were, "we
are but a scant two days from the honor of combat on the fields of Stormcrowe."
Pez had a way with language that annoyed Kit. She decided right then that she
would dislike him greatly. "How, pray tell, shall we arrive with time to display our
puissant skill at arms?"
Darkheart's brow furrowed as Kit recalled. Kit's recollection brought a wry
smile, exposing a newly broken tusk. Perhaps she would not have to put up with Pez
for too long.
"I have no long-term plans for Stormcrowe," Darkheart rattled, "and would not
expend the costs in magic which the creation of a way gate would extoll." Perhaps all
humans used too many words. Kit wondered if she were human before, did she waste such
breath then? "I will activate the way gate at the stable house of Dragon's Fist in
Aljafir and will engage transport by sea to Stormcrowe upon our arrival."
Darkheart did just that, as Kit recalled. She shuddered at the memory an
encounter in the stable house as they made their way from the gate through to an exit.
Five gladiators, her brothers in arms as it were, levitating in pools of a sickly
yellow light. They appeared asleep and must have been for some time, considering the
accumulation of dust throughout the compound. "Inactive" Darkheart had said
dismissively. Kit hoped she would never be inactive. She shuddered again, as much
from the thought as the bitter wind biting through her too short cloak.
Darkheart had arranged passage quickly with the captain of the first ship he
found in port. The captain, one Ned Reeders, seemed to cower from Kit's manager as
most humans not in his employ seemed to do. She supposed it was the long black cloak
he wore about himself at all times or perhaps the cowl which hid his features. Mayhap
his rattling, duo-tone voice. None of which seemed particularly perturbing to Kit,
though the tendency of his eyes to actually flash when agitated had convinced her that
she did not want to anger him. The wraithy one deposited a few coins in the hand of
Captain Reeders. "See to it that the three of you board and that the good Captain
Reeders set sail immediately." Darkheart said as he moved his gaze to Kit. "I have
business in Niytyole and trust that you will handle your transport from here."
A wave crashed against the port side of The Northwight, bringing Kit out from her
thoughts. The storm had reached them but the ports of Stormcrowe were in sight. They
had nearly crossed the Trier Sea and would narrowly escape its fury. Kit wondered who
had jilted the Lady Trier, but only briefly, for as the docks appeared in view she
rued the challenge that would await her on the sands on the morrow.
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Hail warriors of Stromcrowe... It is I, Alpha Rev from the team CSU College
Radio. I have just returned from the most recent FTF tourney held in the magical
lands of Kansas City. Apparently it is a whole kingdom revolving around the eating of
crazy amounts of meat. Of course while there I had to sample all of the myriad meat
treats. I dined on brisket, ribs, steak, pulled pork and some insane thing called
Burnt Ends... Holy cow!! (no pun intended but intended). It was no shock to me that
my tourney performance suffered a a result of all that crazy meat I ate. Hard to be
all dodgy and such when your belly cant fit into your armor. I finished at a
miserable 3-3. I had expected better of myself. I will now regal you with my exploits
in the tourney.
So the tourney started early on Saturday and I was not feeling my normal chipper
self. Getting to the tourney ended up being a pain in the neck and I didn't get a
good night's sleep before it started. I know, excuses, excuses!! So before I go too
far, here are my stats in no particular order:
15-8-11-9-21-9-11
So even though I wasn't feeling good as the tourney started, I was able to win my
first round match up. I was matched against CAMBRE AWTREY of GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS from
the fine arena of Jhans. Cambre likely thought he had me but I was able to turn the
tables on him and squeak out a 1 minute victory. So on to round 2.
Round 2 sees me matched against WILLIE of THE MILKSOPS from the bloated arena of
Jasper Gulch. I don't know if you have ever been to Jasper Gulch but we don't care
for it at all. Wayyyyy to many people. Everyone is very rude. For this reason I
really wanted to stick it to Willie and all his Jasper Gulch buddies. Willie didn't
stand a chance in this one. I was able to take him down quickly in a single minute.
Take that, Jasper Gulch!!!
Round 3 finds me matched up against STRANGE FORM of B.I.G. from over in Arvat.
Fine folks over in Arvat but I still wanted to stick to Strange Form and start a sweet
3-0. Sadly, Strange Form acted really strange and I couldnt figure him out. He
smoked me in a single minute. After the tourney was over I felt a bit better about
this loss as Strange Form went on to TV.
Round 4 and I am matched against ANALOG TARZAN of THIRSTY THUGS 162A. Another
warrior from Jasper Gulch!!! Bet he is looking for revenge!! My manager always says
he fears seeing warriors from the Thirsty Thugs, so I knew I had my work cut out for
me. It went as I expected, a big L. Now I am at 2-2 and on the bubble. Damn.
Round 5... So next up for me is GLASS HAWK of XCOM ALPHA from over in Zensu.
Good food over there in Zensu if you ever have a chance to check it out. I was able
to take down the Glass Hawk in a 1 minute duel. Now I'm 3-2... I have to make a run
here for a chance at a TV.
Round 6 is upon us. I am matched against 1963 of SHEET FW3. Another Jasper
Gulcher, hate these guys!! My run sadly ended here. Mr 1963 took me down in a 1
minute duel. I didn't have a chance against him.
So that's how my tourney went. I was hoping to do better and bring smiles and
accolades to my guild house but it wasn't meant to be this time out. I hope others
from Stormcrowe did better then I did this tourney. Best of luck to everyone on the
sands. Talk again soon.
-- Alpha Rev of CSU College Radio
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Sunlight shattered across the water as the boat sped along towards the cove.
Normally, Howlin' Wolf would've booked passage on one of the larger warships that
littered the Trier Sea, but word had already spread of his arrival. To be chosen as
the Free Blades Poet of the Century was honor enough, but to do so while still
breathing was unfathomable. Enveritus, the previous recipient, died in his nineties,
with decades of works accumulated during his time as the laureate of Barikala. Even
Turna, the man whose suicide was thought to be in hopes of winning the award, was 73.
No, the fanfare would've been too much on such a vessel. The autographs were one
thing, but the adulators and sycophants with their pawing and fawning fatigued him.
Instead, Howlin' Wolf secured a schooner through one of his lesser known trading
conglomerates. He smiled, thinking of his silent partnership with the former pirate
One Armed Bandit. Getting a ship commissioned was arduous endeavor enough, but to
procure the right materials and hire the proper laborers were trials that would've
taken a layman months. Instead, it had taken a score of days and came with a top crew
of veteran sea dogs. A modern marvel of maritime design, the ship's sleek hull cut
through the frothing, rabid waves faster than anything Howlin' Wolf had ever seen.
The cove's shore beckoned towards them with the mesmerizing glitter of white sand,
uncommon in the normally marshy region.
Poet of the Century. How did it come to this? Howlin' Wolf had barely touched a
pen since he assumed the mantle of gladiator manager. Yes, dazzling tapestries of
untold worlds gushed from his mind. Yes, casual turns of phrases irradiated the souls
of every reader. Yes, he had closets of finespun clothes, drawers of meticulously
crafted golden baubles, vaults of precious metals, lines of credit from the greatest
merchants and banks, and other insipid temptations that lay dormant, awaiting his
call. He had eschewn all of his former life, content in his current dealings. What
would happen when he sat down to the blank page to write his magnum opus?
The light was dim as he stepped into his cramped cabin, the desk assuming the
cryptic impression of a butcher's block. Fitting then, for his arrival into
Stormcrowe, the warriors he had sent there before him posing as the incanted
manifestation of the howling of slaughter. Howlin' Wolf set his lantern down as he
nestled into the all too familiar hunch of a prone writer, his back immediately
tensing with memory long and unforgiving. The quill dripped as it dragged itself from
the inkwell into the nook of its owner's hand. In this moment, Howlin' Wolf began to
write.
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Late last year, preceding the upcoming election for Stormcrowe Slaughterhouse's
Presidency Spirit of Trump decided to make a run, and an unexpected one at that, for
the presidency! He decided he alone could stop the volatile Hillassur Clinton and OAB
Clinton (One-Armed Bill) Clinton. Although Spirit of Trump was far richer than the
Drive-Thru's team he felt drawn to put an end to the evil empire's attempted further
grab of power and the dangerous policies that they would likely try to pass into law
on the land that Spirit of Trump was so proud of. A land that allowed him to turn 1
million gold coins into billions of gold coins. When he thought about it there was
really only one choice he could make for his running mate. After winning the
nomination to run against the evil empire he named Street Legal his running mate.
Although they came from far different backgrounds, and of varying different basic
beliefs, Spirit of Trump felt Street Legal would make the strongest running mate he
could choose and give him the best chance of winning victory to the House of
Slaughters of Stormcrowe!
One-Armed Bill was well known for his oratory prowess, though of possible
questionable morals he had at one point sat within a presidency himself and he stood
as advisor to his partner Hillassur Clinton in the run for the presidency in
Stormcrowe! All the experts, as the race progressed, predicted not only a runaway
victory for Hillassur but quite possibly the biggest runaway since Consormondale was
defeated by Otto Xeagan had won roughly 30 years before. The debates were basically
seen as merely a formality as victory was all but assured for Hillassur, especially
with One-Armed Bill's assistance and previous history, and knowledge, of what it took
to earn victory in a presidential election! The running mate was also merely an
afterthought, and not very effective, thus his name will be withheld from this story
as it proved to be of no significant relevance so there's no need to give said running
mate any free publicity or further adulation!
Things were generally seen, by the mainstream media of Alastari, as Hillassur
winning all the debates and the foregone conclusion was only becoming more and more a
certainty in their minds. One-Armed Bill even served in capacity to deflect an
ongoing criminal investigation against Hillassur by meeting with the Attorney General
which lead to a surprising dismissal of any charges, by of all people the head of the
FBI (Friends of Bill Inc) which seemed a little bit odd as the FBI rarely made
prosecutorial decisions.
All seemed well in a runaway until Hillassur made a HUGE misstep, if not just an
outright blundering buffoonish attempt at humor by labeling all backers of Spirit of
Trump as being lumped into "a basket of deplorables!" The dismissed as a mere misstep
of minor distinction by the Alastari press Spirit of Trump and Street Legal decided to
embrace the name and make a run as a team known as "The Deplorables." They urged the
basket of deplorables to "get out the vote," and to stand up to the true tyrants of
Stormcrowe, Hillassur and One-Armed Bill.
Though it appeared momentum was building the press continued to dismiss the odds
of The Deplorables to avoid a crushing defeat predicting Hillassur could get as many
as 350-375 electoral votes, if not more. On the eve of the election Spirit of Assur
and Street Legal were confident of victory but seemed to stand nearly alone in that
belief but they stood fast and firm and urged the basket to make their voices heard!
Early election results were predicting a landslide victory was in the works for
Hillassur and many Deplorables began to change channels in a sullen recognition that
despite a valiant attempt by a group of outsider, non-mega candidates, was put forth
the dream of an upset were quickly dwindling. But then suddenly in the toss-up areas
surprising results were beginning to trickle in. Many areas that The Muffobama-Man
had easily taken in the previous election over Mitter Darque, Spirit of Trump was
leading in the votes. Still Hillassur and the Alastari media assured that the "Blue
Wall" would not crack and Hillassur would carry at least 3 or 4 of the toss ups! Even
if not Hillassur would have to lose ALL of the tossups to lose this election with the
Coastal Elites firmly in the Clinton corner......
And now as election night is late into the night will One-Armed Bill and
Hillassur come out and concede victory to Spirit of Trump... and his running mate
Street Legal????????? Only time will tell if Hillassur will show up to speak to those
who backed the election run! (stay tuned!!!);
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Mutually Exclusive
We're Mutually Exclusive and don't you know your tooth is
Loose in your head from where we've been abusive and
Set you back while we talked some smack,
wielding that war hammer for a few love taps.
And we'd like to know what's with the excuses?
See, we're driving this train but you know what the caboose is.
So, on your knees to greet our five MC's.
Doing what they do while you bob to please.
Rich and Po', well he ain't no ho.
Making moments matter because, you know, YOLO.
Trust and Trump will make you act a chump.
Running around bawling while he kicks your rump.
Then you try to jump and your head goes 'thump'.
Odd and Even will quickly find you leaving
the arena sand, so you can do some heavin' of your guts
before you start bereaving your teammate klutz.
Happy and Sad will make you wish you had,
another pair of nads for the ones he grabbed and,
you know he starting squeezing, leavin' you seizing
on your knees and have you start believing
in the fact that it's our season.
Trump and Truth, well that who's in the booth,
spitting out this juice while your neck's feeling the noose.
Forsooth, you ---
"What the hell is that?" Jerman stared over the shoulder of Trump and Truth.
The latter had been scribbling furiously.
Truth turned several shades of red and scrambled to hide his piece of scratch
paper. "Nothing, boss!"
"Were you really just trying to flow and air out your vocabulary and you used the
word 'forsooth' ?"
"What's wrong with that?"
Jerman snorted. "Do you even know what it means?"
"Nope, do you?"
Jerman stopped and considered. "You know, I don't think I do. It's one of those
stupid words people use for no damn good reason."
Trump and Truth considered. "But my flow's so wet, you'll never get used to it."
"Knock that crap off," Jerman growled.
"Spitting out the illin, leave you needed penicillin."
"One more rhyme and your paycheck's gonna freeze in time."
"Got, it boss."
Jerman stalked off. Truth and Trump picked up his pencil and started humming.
"Watchin Jerman retreating, prolly gonna do some eatin...."
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
It was the best of times (turn 1). It was the worst of times (turn 2).
As The Spirit was going over the results of the Stormecrowe Slaughterhouse
Five turn 2 there was a knock at the door. It was barely audible as if
someone was trying to avoid being heard by anyone else save who the knock was
intended for. But a knock it was.
Spirit arose and answered. There standing in his doorway was the ugliest woman
he had ever seen. Tall yet skinny. Knobby knees. Flat chested with the biggest Adams
apple he's ever seen on a woman. Not to mention in need of a shave. Then he realized
it was no woman.
"Den!" he exclaimed. "What in the world are you doing in that dress?!"
Den replied, "I'm in drag, errr disguise, of course! I couldn't bare the thought
of others knowing I came to you for advice! Also I prefer to be called Denise when
I'm dressed this way."
Spirit knowingly nodded, "Of course. I really wouldn't want them knowing,
either. You'd best come in, lest all of Alastari think I'm keeping company with a
troll woman!"
As Denise walked in he marveled at the cleanliness of Spirit's home here in
Stormcrowe. Although Denise's' humble abode was the nicest in all the Allied Axis it
was still a pig's sty compared to the rest of Alastari. The AA is not known for their
cleanliness, after all. Hygiene is not one of their strong suits. For that matter
it's not even on their list!
"Would you care for something to drink?" asked Spirit as he offered Denise a seat
in his library.
Denise nodded eagerly as he knew whatever The Spirit had to offer was way better
than any swig the AA was used to. While their drink of choice was called Stormcrowe's
Best, it really wasn't good at all. But it was cheap and that was what mattered to
them. They didn't make much money in this game. That's hard to do when your win/loss
percentage is as bad as theirs. They tried to make more money on the side betting
against their own warriors but soon found out everyone else bet against them too so no
big pay out there.
While Spirit was pouring the drinks Denise looked around the room in hopes of
spotting something small and valuable he could stash up his dress and sell later for a
bottle or two of that nasty drink he likes. Then he thought better of it knowing The
Spirit would know what he did and who knows what he would do as punishment. Denise
WAS a coward at heart, after all. Still, the books in Spirit's library all looked
valuable and rare. Not that Denise would know. He could barely read "See Spot Run"
or "Fun with Dick and Jane." In fact, he thought the later was smut just from the
title.
At any rate, Spirit handed Den a glass of the best drink he's ever tasted.
Denise had no idea what it was but it was delicious! Perhaps he could steal the
bottle, he thought.
"So what brings you to my doorstep? Are you in need of money again? I
told you last time I helped out that I don't mind being there for those in
need but you MUST learn to make it last. You can't waste it on wine and women, or
men. I'm not sure what you AA prefer."
Denise nodded in agreement. "We at the AA are always grateful for your
generosity. No one else in all the land will help keep us fed, clothed and sheltered.
We know it's because of our nasty disposition and all around hatefulness to others.
That's not why I'm here. I'm here because I'm sooooo tired of being on the losing end
of these contests. When I was thinking of how to change that I realized it was your
stable who I lost to the most. Makes sense, considering who you are. You're the
smartest manager I know. What I'm really here for is advice on how to be a mediocre
manager."
Spirit was a bit surprised that Denise has started caring whether he wins or not.
Spirit replied, "Don't you mean you want to be a good manager?"
Denise responded, "Let's not get crazy here. I know my limitations. Mediocre is
probably way over my abilities but it's a goal."
Spirit could only nod in agreement. He was a bit shocked that anyone in the AA
actually cared about doing well. He was about to dismiss Denise and tell him he
should go. Not because he didn't like helping people but there's only so much some
people can learn and this IS Denise after all. However Spirit was a generous
benefactor and was curious as to exactly how well Denise could do so he decided to
continue the conversation. He addressed Denise, "Ok Den. I'll do it. Let's see how
well you can learn."
This was going to be a long night...
-- Spirit, Villains We Love
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Many moons ago when I was in my prime (if you can call it that), I set out on a
journey to recruit teams to fill every arena in Alastari. I was determined to compete
with the mega managers who ruled the grand tournaments. Of course to do this I needed
warriors, lots of them. They needed to be trained quickly between tournaments in the
arena where needed, which eliminated slow arenas with the four week turn around. Too
long between turns, too much down time or over training between fights and too easy to
forget to even send in orders for them to fight.
While staying at the U.A.K. guildhouse in Cliffhome, I decided to head west to
Osksi and from there head out to sea and try my luck at finding teams in Transel,
Kaltos and Sunset. From there I could sail southeast to Illis and back on to land at
Ticorus and the Smoking Plains cities.
The 65 mile trek was slow but comfortable. Merchant caravans tended to move at a
nice steady pace, not wanting to beat themselves and some of there fragile cargo to
death on rough roads. This gave me time to put together some flyers for each city I
needed warriors in. The good thing about these established, older arenas is that the
infrastructure is in place to get teams set of fairly easily. Want-to-be warriors
were in abundance, trainers were everywhere and even ready to move in guildhouses were
usually in abundance. Each city should take three to four days to get a team manned
and set up in the new facilities. Since none of these teams were expected to fight in
the arena right away, there was plenty of time to evaluate the talent fully before
tournament time.
Osksi took close to four days to get everything set up, a few snags and goofs on
my parts made it take longer than it should have. Found a couple of good Wall of
Steel types and a mix of average guys to fill in. I found out about a merchant vessel
leaving that afternoon for all of the ports I need to visit. Only two days per stop
so I need to cut down on the mistakes I had made here in Osksi. Either that or
arrange new transportation in every port, which could add days and unneeded expenses.
First stop, Transel, went very smoothly although I overdid it a bit on the
styles, all strikers and parry strikes. Off to Kaltos, again very smooth but took a
little more time in selecting warriors. One very promising aimed blow, very
intelligent and agile but seemed a little on the frail side. If he survived he could
be great. A couple others that could be tourney worthy, depending on how that checked
out with the trainers. A little longer on the water, over to Sunset, a steady wind
and calm seas made for a pleasant journey. Once there things got a little harder. A
rash of deaths in the arena were making it tough to find quality warriors. I did
manage to snag one very good lunger and an odd fellow who fought with the slashing
style. I got the team all set up and prepared to move on.
I found out from several people that it would be much easier to get a transport
to Illis if I went on to Kolact. I wasn't planning on setting up a team there so that
would give me some down time. Much needed, since I had been extremely busy over the
last couple of weeks. Kolact was, by far, the nicest city I had yet visited on the
isles. Why it could not support an arena every other week was beyond me. I wasn't
here to worry about that though. I needed to arrange some transportation to Illis and
get on my way. There seemed to be no transports heading out to Illis at least for a
week. Seemed odd but I found out that there was a large group of pirates that decided
to band together and hit the trade route hard recently. Nobody was really in a panic
about it as everyone was assured that the Kolact navy would have the mess cleaned up
within the week.
Now I really had some down time.
I decided to get away from the port and move down the coast and see if I
could find a decent beach with a bar right on the water. Hopefully with some young
ladies around to chat with and admire. I had spent a couple of days drinking
fruity drinks with umbrellas, leading to shots and then of course the next
morning bloody mary's with all kinds of vegetables sticking out of them for breakfast.
On the third day I was just sitting there doodling on a piece of paper, "Otis
Likes Lungers." A group of young guys comes wandering up to the bar, "Jager bombs all
around!"
Since it was still early I was the only other person at the bar. The one who
seemed to be the ring leader asks, "Hey dude, wanna do a shot?"
Who am I to turn down a perfectly good Jager bomb?
He looks over at what I am scribbling and says, "Hey bros, I knew this guy looked
cool."
They all looked at the paper. The first guys says," Likes me", second guy, "Me
Too," third guy, "Me Three," fourth guy, "Not Me," last guy, "Me Either."
Master Darque sits there with a glazed look in his eyes and says, "So what you
are saying is, you are in the contest."
"Well, yeah. I am moving my team out of here and moving my team from Kolact in
here for the contest. They'll be here Tuesday. I am teaming up with Pain to form
Pain in the Otis," I reply.
"That you are," MD mumbles under his breath before shouting "Next!"
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
**** Mannequin's Spotlight ****
Smack, smack, smack! An official from the SGC (Stormcrowe Gladiatorial
Commission) hammered a few nails and hung copies of the scoring results for the
Stormcrowe Slaughterhouse 5. A large crowd of managers and townsfolk had gathered to
see the updated contest scores. There was plenty of cursing and jostling as people
tried to get close enough to read the results.
Mannequin carefully studied the crowd from a safe distance. He was paying
attention to their body language as the results were read and shared with others in
the crowd. Though he was too far away to hear what was being said, he could see some
people were happy with their results. Some though, were not. He spotted his partner
push his way through the crowd and angrily stomp his way towards him.
He handed Mannequin a crumpled sheet of paper. It was one
of the scoring sheets the SGC official had just hung up. Mannequin carefully
smoothed out the paper and looked for their spot in the standings.
"Hmmm, we dropped from 2nd to 10th in the rankings," he said. "We are dead-
center in the middle of the standings -- 9 teams are above and below us. That
really shouldn't surprise you. It kind of matches our team records (6-4-1 and
5-5)."
"Pathetic!" Khisanth spat venomously.
Mannequin folded the paper as best he could and put it in his pocket. "Come on,"
he said, "let's find a tavern with a quiet spot and try to figure out what we need to
do to get back in this thing."
They started walking towards the waterfront where most of Stormcrowe's taverns
were located. Mannequin led the way, pausing every now and then to say hello to
someone as they made their way. It wasn't long before they found themselves walking
along the wharf. The place was busy with merchants buying or selling cargo,
fishmongers selling their wares and idle sailors looking for a good time.
Mannequin made a beeline towards one of the nicer taverns, The Fisherman's Widow.
Its clientele was primarily traders and merchants so it wasn't as rough and rowdy as
the rest of the drinking holes along the wharf.
They found a table near one of the front windows. Khisanth took the bench seat
next to the window so Mannequin pulled out a chair with his back towards the center of
the room. There was a large group seated at the long table in the middle of the room
behind him.
It wasn't long before the barkeep came by to take their orders. He brought a
bowl of peanuts with him when he returned with their drinks. Mannequin took the
scoring sheet out of his pocket and placed it on the table. "Did you happen to see who
is in 1st place?" he said. "That's a real shocker."
Khisanth didn't even look at the paper. "BH/GB," he said before taking a long
pull of his ale.
"Do you have any ideas how we can catch up to them?" said Mannequin.
"Kill them," he said with a predatory gleam in his eyes.
"What? We can't do that. It's impossible."
"You're the expert, figure it out."
Mannequin exhaled and reached for a large handful of peanuts. "It doesn't work
that way," he said as he popped a few peanuts in his mouth. "I can't just snap my
fingers and make something happen."
"I thought you your killing mojo had returned."
"It has, in spades and then some," said Mannequin. As he talked he had thrown
his hands up in a wild gesture. A few of the peanuts in his hand went flying in all
directions. One landed on a plate of the group having lunch behind him. "It's not
something I can control. It's a natural ability. It happens whether I want it to or
not."
The explanation didn't seem to satisfy Khisanth. He seemed dubious but accepted
it by saying, "What are the scoring rules for next round? We need to come up with a
better plan if we can't take the easy route to the top."
Mannequin spent the next 20 minutes going over the scoring, suggesting challenges
and hashing out strategies. He was interrupted a few times by a man behind him who
had started coughing and wheezing. They finished their drinks and motioned for the
barkeep to bring them a second round.
They spent the rest of their time discussing their chances in the upcoming
tourney. The man sitting behind Mannequin continued his wheezing and was making some
other odd sounds. His tablemates were concernedly asking if he was OK. Mannequin and
Khisanth drained their cups and got up to leave. As they left the tavern the sick man
vomited and fell to the floor.
"Some people don't know how to hold their liquor," Mannequin observed as he
walked out the door.
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
"Make Alastari Great Again."
The magnificent oversized banner moved and flapped in the breeze, making a
satisfying snapping sound that pleased the most powerful man in 2 worlds. Donald
Trump surveyed the crowd as he walked up the raised dais, and approached the podium.
"Good afternoon, Stormcrowe!" The roar of the crowd was strangely underwhelming.
The self-styled monarch surveyed the crowd, which was HUGE! He smiled to himself,
adjusted his too-long red tie, and looked down at his notes.
"I'm here today to set the record straight. Some members of the Fake Media have
attacked my team, Yuppe Horde." Trump paused dramatically, and surveyed the crowd.
He waited for the BOO's and outrage from the crowd that never came. Undeterred, he
moved forward.
"They've claimed that we missed the first turn of the Stormcrowe Slaughter
Challenge. Not true! We were here! We were ready to fight! An overzealous left-
wing bureaucrat prevented us from participating, and that is an OUTRAGE!"
Once again, Trump paused, standing up straight and grimacing presidentially while
he waited for his words to have the proper effect. The crowd simply stared back, a
little girl in the front row absently eating a corn dog, blue eyes peering out from
under her bright red "MAGA" truckers' cap.
"They've also said that my Yuppie Horde performed poorly during the last turn,
losing more than we won. Again, I say OUTRAGE! There is a wide-ranging left wing
conspiracy, going right to the very TOP of the gladiatorial commission, that doesn't
want to grant us a victory. It's disgusting." A young man in a cheap suit pushed his
way to the front of the crowd.
"Mr. Trump! Mr. Trump!"
Donald Trump scowled at the young man. Looking to his left, Trump made eye
contact with FOMO and Sharper Image. A simple head motion, and they began slowly
making their way offstage.
"Mr. Trump, what can you tell us about your relationship with Alternate Facts,
and the allegations that the two teams are secretly colluding together?"
Donald Trump stomped his feet impatiently. "You see, folks? You see?"
Looking to his right, Trump nodded toward Uptown Funk and Battle Frog, who began
making their way down a small set of stairs, off-stage and toward the crowd.
"These OUTRAGEOUS lies are the Fake News Media lying to you. Colluding? We
couldn't do that. I don't even know what that word means!"
"Mr. Trump! Mr. Trump! What do you say to allegations that you attempted to
purchase not only the Stormcrowe arena itself, but literally every other team so that
you could ensure MAGA's victory in the current contest?"
Trump's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "WHO told you that?" Now the crowd
was beginning to pay attention, growing as many came from far and wide to witness this
young reporter taking on the multi-multi-millionaire. Trump glared angrily at his
four gladiators, moving too slowly as the crowd swelled and swayed around them.
Trump walked around the podium, towering over the young reporter who stood his
ground.
"Mr. Trump! Mr. Trump! What do you say to the story that your own son tried to
create a back channel of communication with Darque, in order to gain an unfair
advantage?"
Screaming incoherently, Trump dove off the stage, tackling the young man who was
definitely not prepared for this attack. They went down in a pile, lost in the crowd.
"Fight! Fight! Fight!" The crowd chanted.
Trump stood up, battered and bloody, holding the young man over his head and
making dramatic eye contact with those nearby. The reporter was frozen in fear. They
never covered this in Journalism school.
As the four gladiators finally arrived, pushing the crowd away and creating a
small circle amid the mass of humanity, Trump shouted "THE REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE
TELEVISED!" Dropping the reporter behind him with an unceremonious "ooph!" he strode
away triumphantly.
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Arena Food Vendor Guide
Stormcrowe Tourism Board
Going to the arena is always an enjoyable family event. We have crafted this
handy guide so the duel enthusiast can have the most joyous experience at the the
Stormcrowe arena. Along with the gladiator and manager rosters included in this book,
below is a useful guide to the various food wagons located around the arena. The star
rating accompanying each entry ranges from 1-star, our worst rating, to 5-stars, our
best. We have also began a new "price point" entry that will let you know the price
ranges for each food wagon.
Den's Meat Wagon $
*
Looking for a dining experience that defies explanation? Look no further than Den's
Meat Wagon! Sadly, it also defies edibility, so bring a strong stomach if you plan on
stopping by here. I am not even sure the offerings at this food wagon are made of
meat, at least not the regular fare of beef, pork, chicken, or lamb you find at other
establishments. The servers are as prickly as their boss, but it appears to be a
favorite hangout for members of the AA. Alley cats and rodents appear to be frequent
guests as well.
OAB's Shewish Buffet $$
***
The name says all you need to know about this wagon. It is a buffet style offering
with dishes mainly of Shewish origin. Thanks to a partnership with Assur, they are
now offering a horse-side service. That's right! Just ride up to the wagon, stay on
your horse, and they will bring the food to you! Eating on horseback may be the next
big fad in Stormcrowe.
TMM's TC Kitchen $$$$$
*****
You better bring your gold pouch if you plan to stop by this wagon. TMM has spared no
expense with his latest food venture. Not only are the dishes gourmet level, but to
save on overhead, TMM is employing his former Primus TC's in the kitchen. You get
great food and star-studded service. Expect precision and tireless service as an army
of Aimed Blows punch out dish after dish without ever picking up a utensil!
Consortium's Puree Pit $$
**
Have you lost your teeth after too many bar room brawls or arena fights? Are you just
old or had poor brushing habits? It can be hard to chew without any teeth, but that
is where Consortium's Puree Pit comes in for the rescue! Nothing solid is served by
this food wagon. Service is slow and my food was cold. I did not see an employee
below the age of 70. In fact, I'm sure one of them passed away while preparing my
order (employees from Den's Meat Wagon showed up for the body).
Free Candy
*
This is a trap. There is no free candy. They will try to kidnap you. Do not believe
the sign.
Candy Crushers $
***
Who doesn't love candy? After narrowly escaping the attempted kidnapping from the
previous food wagon, I made my way to the delightfully named Candy Crushers. While
the candy is affordable, it is all broken. I learned the inventory for this wagon
comes from damaged cargo wagons. This helps keep the prices low! Hey, candy is
candy! A chocolate bar still tastes delicious whether it is whole or in tiny
fragments.
sLaw Dogs $$
**
Hot dogs are a good staple of arena food. Vlad jumped into the act with some cleverly
named entrees. Bark-B-Q Dog and Muttropolitan Dog are highly recommended if you are
feeling famished. They also have pupsicles for the kiddos if you want a nice treat to
endure the arena heat.
La Boulange free or $
*****
Who doesn't love bread? You'll have the answer to that question in my next entry.
This bakery wagon has all of your bread needs in one convenient location. You may
have a hard time understanding the wagon owner as he speaks this melodic, unknown
language, but I have discovered if you bother him enough, he will throw bread at you!
Highly recommended!
The Yuppie Wagon $$$$
***
Bread is bad, or that is what the sign says on this wagon. It is not only bread, but
something they call carbohydrates. I have no idea what they are talking about, but to
briefly describe this strange wagon I will say they serve only meat. it is similar to
Den's Meat Wagon, but edible. There is a lingering aroma of Dwarven Axe Body Spray in
the vicinity, and nearly every employee will ask you if you do something called
Crossfit.
If none of these options appeal to you, you can always bring something from home.
Don't let the arena guards catch you trying to smuggle in outside food, or you may
find yourself employed as an arena stand in as punishment! As always, enjoy your time
in Stormcrowe arena and happy dueling!
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
So the Grand Slaughterhouse contest is well underway. But let us take a look
together at the implications of such an event being organized here, and what grand new
experience it will give us the chance to live.
Only a few turns ago, the arena was one of the most peaceful and quiet areas of
the City, almost empty week-in and week-out. It was the ideal place to come to for a
peaceful, solitary moment and where one could sit in the stands wherever he desired,
with a good book to read undisturbed by any noise or other kind of nuisance you
generally have to put up with in public areas... Or have a quiet picnic under the
shade of the arcades above the stands, or spend some time with your partner relaxing
or just enjoying each other's company without anyone in sight except occasionally for
the gladiators, far below, who seemed to enjoy the place as they would a training
ground on a day off.
This also was the reason Stormcrowe's arena had been chosen by La Guillotine to
try a few experiments. The place offered total discretion and allowed a very
contemplative approach to the hard task of gladiatorial management, quite far from
what would be expected in any "big" arena. Anything could be tried without any
consequences, no unfriendly managers would laugh at the pathetic failures which you
sent in the sands, for example, or just tried to kill them for fun's sake.
So all was peaceful and quiet on the Stormcrowe front, until that fateful day
when the official announcement of the contest was made and the posters announcing the
event and giving all the details to enlist were posted across town and on the walls
and doors of the Arena.
At this point, it happened more than occasionally that GOING BERSERK would be the
only active stable in the arena, so they were clearly getting used to ending the turns
at the #1 spot and started to relish a new challenge, having no doubt that they
weren't #1 by chance. They were simply the best, whatever the opposition was, or even
the lack of it, as the cynical among you would doubtlessly and ungallantly point out.
"Surely it wouldn't come in any harder than the mighty Fratsfa Slave, the
treacherous Mordant Deserter, or the agile Kung Fu Master, and we could rather expect
the opposition to be thrilled by the chance to discover an all-new approach to
gladiatorial combat, even at the cost of a few metaphorical spankings." Well, at
least, this is what the BERSERKS believe... And I haven't told them yet that things
may be slightly more challenging.
So you now know how the Stormcrowe BERSERKS will fight, armed with a lifelong
culture of contemplation, trained under the quiet but ever observing eyes of the
sparrows perched on the top of the arcades, or hailed by the furious shrieks of rage
of the ramping lizards running across the empty stone pavements of the stands.
Then finding a teammate was easy: Le Pentarque would always relish a new
challenge himself, and he brought in another team trained in one of the many arts he
masters, a very different one. But they are indeed waiting to prove their mettle: the
mighty bakers of LA BOULANGE, who also can boast of being top dogs when it comes to
making croissants and other delicacies. Honestly, I would still expect LP to have
trained them other skills, though.
Now you know what you are up against: the F.R.O.G.Z. are *bread* for victory!
And they will provide you with a new experience of defeat in the sands which shall
enlighten your inner being as well as change forever the expectations of your taste
buds!
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Joe cursed his bad luck. Presstoe could have sent Stuntman or one of the others
but his manager told Joe that he was the fastest warrior in the stable so he had the
best chance of getting away if something went wrong in Den's House of Horrors. Ok,
the real name of Den's establishment was the House of the Rising Sun. Den's houses of
ill repute were all over Alastari. The House had a wide selection of offerings for
men looking for an alternative to the normal brothels in the city. Den's brothel
offered a selection of brawny men, feminine men, and ladyboys (some who had a lot of
work done and paid a lot of gold at the House of Alterations). The ladyboys really
creeped Joe out because they looked like real ladies and some had even been "cut", but
not all. It was rumored that Den and some of his minions like Philthy Phil liked them
better when they looked like a lady up top but had the package they were looking for
downstairs. Joe shivered with the heeby jeebies just thinking about it.
Joe was mingling now with the working girls now and had to feign interest but he
was really trying to find a way to Den's private chambers. His job was to spy on Den
and see what he was up to. Den was generally up to no good. When he wasn't telling
his gladiators to down-challenge in the arena he was writing insults in the town paper
to antagonize his victims. He managed stables in the biggest cities in Alastari and
had managed to get almost every boss in those cities to hate him to the point they had
little venom for anyone else. It seemed odd to Presstoe that Den went out of his way
to get so much negative attention. When the other managers weren't avoiding Den they
were down-challenging him back without remorse, writing long columns to ridicule Den
or defend themselves.
Joe had one of Den's employees grab him by the arm and request a drink. This one
wasn't letting go and at least the ladyboy did a passable job of emulating a real
lady. Joe plied his companion with drinks and eventually was able to get her to take
him to a room close to Den's chambers. He left the escort in the room making an
excuse that was going to get more ale, and tried to sneak into Den's quarters.
The hallway was empty and he listened but he couldn't hear anyone inside. It was
late and Den could be sleeping one off. Joe tried the door and to his surprise, it
was unlocked. He nudged it open slowly and peered inside. There was just little
moonlight coming from the the ceiling of Den's chambers so it took Joe's eyes a
minute to adjust. There were no windows and the skylights appeared to be tinted so
that it would be hard to see in the room from the outside.
As Joe lit a torch on the wall it became obvious why there weren't more windows;
there were strange machines and devices strewn about the room. Joe shivered thinking
of the unspeakable acts that must take place in that room.
Joe found Den's desk and began to read his papers. There were dozens of papers
with fight results from cities everywhere, notes scribbled about the results and
possible insults, and hash marks keeping track of other team's win/loss records for
the turn. There was little on opponent's fighting styles' or strategies. Joe was
astounded by the amount of time Den was dedicating to embarrassing his opponents.
Then Joe found the evidence that Presstoe had sent him to discover. There was a
letter from Sheila Greywand praising Den for his efforts and promising more bags of
gold would be forthcoming.
It started to make sense to Joe now. Sheila had helped establish the Duel arenas
throughout the cities of the cities of Alastari, to train warriors for the coming
battles. She feared that someday The Chaos Gates she had worked so hard to seal ages
ago would decay and the bloodthirsty monsters would come through again and wreak
havoc. Over time, the inhabitants of Alastari had forgotten the Chaos Wars and grown
lax. Less young men and women joined stables to learn the art of fighting and some
cities were forced to shut down their arenas. Lady Greywand was using Den to stir up
trouble in the remaining cities. It was a brilliant plan and was working incredibly
well. Den stirred up so much hate that some managers had come out of retirement just
to battle him.
Now Joe's thoughts turned to the treasure. He had seen a large chest in the
corner of Den's room near some of his torture devices. He carefully tried the lid and
found it was not locked. As he lifted it up he jumped back in shock -- there was a
man inside! Philthy Phil rose up with a maniacal grin on his face, his head covered
in a bondage mask, his body dressed in black leather straps. At that moment Den came
through the door to his chambers and found his pet standing over Joe. "Stop, PP!" Den
proclaimed. "Death is too good for him. I have other ideas on how to make an example
of this one."
Joe was found days later and though he was able to return to fighting in the
arena, he was never the same. He had an uncontrollable Twitch now and despite the
name Joe, the announcer now called him a her and Joe's tongue had been removed so
there was little he could do to argue.
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
The planet was Earth, 3rd planet from the sun of this forsaken solar system in
this forgotten galaxy. The year was 1573. Chiyome and her kunoichi had set up an
extensive network of some 200-300 agents and assassins, all orchestrated by Chiyome.
She was well on her way to becoming Japan's most prolific crime lord. Her agents were
vast and well trained. They were versed in the art of deception and disguise,
allowing them to move freely from town to town, village to castle and even the temples
as easily as water flows down river. This wandering priestess of the Shinto Shrine
maidens was making her move to over throw the Emperor.
Chiyome's kunoichi were perfectly positioned. Chiyome sits looking out the
window, the geisha she employed here were finishing their last preparations. Chiyome
reflects and is amazed at how only a dozen years can change ones life so drastically.
Her mother was killed in the Fourth Battle of Kawanakajima.... her father disappeared
and was assumed dead, but the masters of the ninja arts were known to disappear for
long stretches.... 12 years, however, was long even for him. She had always known she
would enter the family business but little did anyone know the ambition that she
possessed.
"Komiko, we leave at sunset." Her voice was cold as death. Komiko wasn't even
sure if that was her natural voice or not as every time she spoke it was as if she was
someone else.
"Yes, Miko."
Samisan in hand, Chiyome made her was to the veiled carriage awaiting them in the
courtyard. Not everyone in the hanamachi was a part of the clan, not everyone needed
to be. There has to be a layer of truth in every lie otherwise the lie will unravel
at the worst moment, words her mother taught her years ago.
As she and Komiko silently rode, the carriage casually made its way to the
Castle. Neither lady showed any sign of nerves. The lion's den was their playground
and this night was a good night to play.
The carriage slowed to a stop and a gloved hand pulled the veil aside, allowing
the ladies to step off with ease. The celebration was well underway and people were
coming and going. Even without a carefully laid out plan it would probably easy to
slip in unnoticed. Without a sound, the geisha made their way up the grand entrance
stairs.
Once inside, the grandness of the castle took on a new meaning. There had been
celebrations before but this was a sight to see.
"Chiyome Izumo-no-Kami, come with me," a familiar voice spoke from the passageway
on the left. Hairs should have been standing up on the back of her neck, she knew it,
but follow she did and fear she had.... a fear she had no memory of, but felt
familiar.
The man in a black cloak led them down the hall to a door. Chiyome was about to
kill the fool but decided to find out why this sense of familiarity was so strong and
even stronger when she was able to smell his pipe tobacco he held in his left cloak
pocket.... but how did she know that?
Stepping through the curtain into the next room was more than a step. She was
not in the castle any more. Her blade moved so swiftly the sound came split seconds
after the sharp point was pressed against her father's heart.
"Is that the kind of welcome home you want? Put the blade down before I decide
you need a new lesson." Her father had a look of one you did not want to trifle with,
but so did she.
"Why have you brought me here?"
"That is your first question? Not, 'how have you been, father?'"
"I will not ask again."
"I have brought you here to fight... for me."
"Where is here?"
"My daughter, let me welcome you to Stormcrowe. Here I am known as Gentleben and
as Gentleben you shall refer to me, not as father. Plus, I am not your real dad, just
the man who killed your father and raised you as his own.... for a short time. We can
catch up later. For now, go to your rooms and get settled in. I will be there
shortly to explain everything!"
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
It's been almost three years, he's forgotten us!" exclaimed Extra Usage.
"He hasn't forgotten us, our time will come," replied Happy Wheal, upbeat as
always.
"I was a tournament victor, though. You'd think that would count for something,"
growled Extra Usage.
Mid Undo sided with Happy Wheal. "Look, we all know he's busy. Remember, we had
that drooling idiot A for the longest time, but he was finally dealt with. We
actually picked up a good teammate in Taffy Reservoir."
"Taffy Reservoir spit in the corner, hitting the ceiling. "I'm #$@&%*! glad to
be here and I want to prove myself."
"Usurp Idol remained quiet as always, seemingly staring through everyone. The
rest of the team had always been curious about his silence, some wondering if he had
hit his head on door frames one too many times. He remained a good fighter, though,
despite his lack of verbal skills.
Suddenly the door flew open. The Muffin Man entered their training room briskly
and quickly looked over the team.
"This is the first time I've entered the Stormcrowe Slaughterhouse contest, and I
don't want to disappoint. Some of you might be questioning my belief in your
abilities, but I wouldn't have sent you here if I didn't think you could compete. Do
YOU think you belong here?"
He looked them dead in the eyes, one by one, and got a nod of approval from each.
"Now get out there and show them what you're made of!"
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
This takes place in the not so distant past. Our story begins at the keep called
the "Serpents Hold" in the outskirts of Ardivent...
A man enters the throne room out of breath and carrying a parchment sealed with
the wax seal of the blades.
"Lord Khisanth, a crow delivered this message just now." The messenger hands the
parchment to his lord, who quickly opens it to read.
His face drops at what he's read. "My lord, is it news from Lord Vhagar about
the coming games?"
"It is news about the coming games... But this was not written by Lord Vhagar."
"Fetch me a quill and parchment and have a crow at the ready."
The man scurries off and returns later with what's asked of him.
"Not good at all," Khisanth mumbles, shaking his head.
Our story now moves to Tobir, where Lord Vhagar's Brothers of the blade reside.
It is midday and Lord Vhagar has already consumed a flask and a half of wine. He
is outside looking over the "training" of his stable. His second in command
approaches.
"More wine!" lord Vhagar mumbles.
"My lord.. are you sure thats a good idea?" says Bansay, an up-and-coming
slasher, feared in these parts. "It's only midday. Perhaps I can have the kitchens
prepare you some food?"
Vhagar responds, "How about I prepare you to be fed to my dogs?"
Bansay dismisses the statement and brings up the reason he is here. "My lord,
our stable is not ready for the upcoming games. They have become fat from all the
eating and drinking, spending all their coin in the whorehouses.... We won't stand
much of a chance if from what I am hearing is true. There is rumored to be a man made
of muffins bringing his stable... pardon the translation.... We must double our
efforts. This is not the stable you promised."
Vhagar stands, looks at his officer, and backhands him in the face. "I will not
be told how to run my stables!"
"Very well," Bansay sadly whispers.
"More wine! Do not make me ask a third time!" With this, Lord Vhagar rises and
walks to the deck's edge. He begins to urinate down on the sands on which his
gladiators are "training."
Bansay reaches into his pocket and takes out the parchment that had just been
delivered. The candlewax still holds the shape of a serpent. Bansay rubs the wax
with his thumb.
"Enough," he yells. And with the speed of a serpent his scimitar is un sheathed
and with a single swing, Lord Vhagar's head is removed from his shoulders.
He looks down at the corpse, partly sad, partly excited. He then drops the
parchment on the chest and walks away.
The parchment reads, "You know what must be done... I, Khisanth, will lead the
Brothers of the Blade in the coming games.
"I will lead all of Vhagar's gladiators from hence on!!!"
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
Team Spotlight -- Law Dogs
The charge was nothing less than murder. The Law Dogs sat around the table
playing poker. No one stated the obvious.
"He was a sot and deserved it for working for that scum of a manager," Clawrence
muttered.
"But... but...," Rusty interjected as he dealt the next hand. "'Murder'? The
word is hard."
"Much harder than the deed," Clawrence agreed. Atticus snorted in response.
"You could have left him alive, you know." Atticus had been quick to admonish
Clawrence for the killing of Gary Ridgeway. "You've done nothing but subject yourself
to four turns of challenges by Den and his bunch."
"You should be just as quick to acknowledge that, dear Atticus, if not for me,
this merry bunch of canines would not have scored any points last cycle. If any of
you had managed to win a fight, perhaps I would have been less inclined to slaughter
that dandy."
"You must be joking," Perro snorted.
"You're right, Perro, I am joking. I would have slaughtered him anyways.
Besides, four turns of challenges from whom? That entire team is a bunch of wet-
behind-the-ears farm boys who frighten the sheep more than any of the real warriors.
Even the Spymaster called out the Big Lake Losers for their down-challenging last
turn. If any of them are brave enough to try to bloodfeud, I'll just kill them too."
"That's rich, you talking about down-challenging, Clawrence. You down challenged
that Ridgeway punk when you killed him."
"Vlad said, 'Beat Den at his own game.' That's what we're doing."
Jack, who had been thoughtfully silent, finally piped up. "Well, I guess it is
settled."
"What's that?" Clawrence asked, looking over his cards at his teammate.
"We need to find a good clawyer."
Barks of laughter erupted in the room and they all went back to playing poker.
"No, seriously."
"Why are you still chewing that gristle?"
"Well, mostly because we still have lines to kill in this story."
"We do?"
"We sure do."
"Are you sure? It seems like we've leveraged the whole dogs-playing-poker thing
pretty heavily. We should go do something else."
"Like what?"
"Let's go kill some cats."
"I'm down with that," Atticus replied.
***---------*---------*---------*---------**---------*---------*---------*---------***
*********************************
STORMCROWE SLAUGHTERHOUSE V
TURN 2 REPORT AND SCORES
*********************************
Turn 2 is in the books, and what an exciting turn it was! Dead Time jumps to the
front of the pack, while The Deplorables implode and go from first to almost worst!
Turn 3 is a bit more involved with the TOGS scoring mechanisms, but the scores are
still close enough that it is anyone's game at this point. Good luck to each squad on
turn 3!
The Commission does a most excellent job of getting the ads and spotlights into
the newsletter, but mistakes do happen. If you submitted your ads or spotlight by
email, save the receipt you get from HAL (the RSI computer that responds with "We got
your e-mail"). If you have proof of submission before the turn was processed, you will
get credit for the ads and spotlight. If you do not have the email receipt, I have no
way of verifying your ads or spotlight were submitted in a timely manner and cannot
award points.
************************
Turn 4 will utilize Battle Royal scoring from Talcama (DM 18). The rules for next
turn are:
+1 Win
+1 Kill
-1 Loss
-1 Death
No Avoids (-10 point penalty for avoiding)
I do receive an avoids report from The Commission, so any violations will be noted and
penalized.
************************
TEAM TURN 2 SCORE TOTAL SCORE
Dead Time 21 27
Conscrips 17 23
Shewish Drive-Thru 14 21
Pain in the Otis 19 18
TWiX 9 15
Bobs & Wolves 8 13
Captains of Industry 8 12
F/X 9 12
The Database Editors 5 12
Silent but Deadly 5 11
F.R.O.G.Z. 5 9
Alternate Facts 1 7
Phantom Blades 5 7
G-Vegas Gigolos 2 6
Rune Force 2 6
Rough Necks -6 1
MAGA -4 -1
The Deplorables -10 -2
Cannibal Specters -2 -4
As always, scoring questions or rules clarifications can be directed to me via diplo,
on Chatzy, the Duel2 forums, or by email at rebelnerfherder @ yahoo.com
-- Master Darque
SSV Moderator
DUELMASTER'S COLUMN
Notes from the arena champ.
SPY REPORT
I can't believe the violence in STORMCROWE! I still haven't told Mom I'm
writing Spyreports. She'd have a cow! Well, here we go... Too bad, DEAD POETS, but
TIME STALLYANS was just too good to be stopped. VILLAINS WE LOVE had like a really
albendranius week! Those hunks got a 3-2-1 and wound up as 10th team! I couldn't
believe it. Did LA BOULANGE really go up by 12? If only those guys didn't have so
may missing teeth... Gross! CSU COLLEGE RADIO had like a really albendranius week!
Those hunks got a 4-1-0 and wound up as 14th team! Wanna hear about a real loser?
Listen to this--DEAD POETS got 0-5-0 and dropped 16. Didn't see much of them after
the fights! I couldn't believe it. Did LAW DOGS really go up by 12? If only those
guys didn't have so may missing teeth... Gross! Really, just how far can one team
drop in one round? WRATHMEN 1.1 dropped 11, which I think's more than all the other
teams combined! 1ST DIVISION had like a really albendranius week! Those hunks got a
3-2-0 and wound up as 22nd team! See if I even talk to any of those losers in DARQUE
FORCES again! Didja see where they got 2-3-0? Somebody musta won a lotta fights!
Wanna hear about a real loser? Listen to this--3RD MECH got 1-2-0 and dropped 16.
Didn't see much of them after the fights! Cut this out and put it in your
scrapbooks, IMA BUBBA 2! 'Cause they got 3-0-0 and moved up to 35th! MVP award for
NOT ME? OTIS LIKES LUNGERS' proud of it after beating SWISS ALP and getting 25
points. Talk about yer big time losers! EDGAR ALLAN POE got smashed by RUNNING
FREE, and lost 14 points! This Duelmaster is like something else! TICKET TAKER
stopped DEAD BATTERY dead in his tracks! Is the Duelmaster really being a real snob
to his teammates? Don't ask me!
I gotta admit I haven't been in "deep con caves" with any spies. Really, I just
wing this stuff. THE MENTORS RIDE was STORMCROWE's most avoided team. Is there some
award for that? Is there some deep dark secret why AVID FANS' been avoiding THE
MENTORS RIDE so much? Or is it just that they're too scared? Can VILLAINS WE LOVE's
VADER be more popular than me? He was challenged the most, but is that really the
same? Speaking of challenging 86 points above did you hear about DOOR DINGS of BASH
BROS CARS vs. AVID FANS' A CHEERLEADER? (And how was that intro!) Like, was that
some fighting on DOOR DINGS' part, or what? And he got 7 points out of it! (besides
getting in my report) Poor A CHEERLEADER.
What does a fighter fight for? I mean, the crowds don't give a hoot if someone
gets killed. Not after four more fights. What a bummer deal for GERALDINE! She
just barely was getting hers "fighter feet" but got kill by INSOLENT FURY of YUPPIE
HORDE! Those're the breaks, I guess. I was SO depressed when I heard MID UNDO got
killed. It was just a kid, and didn't get a fair chance in STORMCROWE, or anything!
VADER bloodfeuded (is that a word?) KIT KAT KATANA for revenge over some guy's bad
fortune. Was it really worth it? Like was that some Bloodfeud, or what? (IMA SLAYA
vs. PRISM GLIDER, that is.) What if they had a fight and nobody showed up? I'd be
out of a job, that's what!!!
Remember, blood on a purple robe may stain. Soak it in cold water, and hand
wash. I gotta leave. STORMCROWE is like such a dump, and you guys smell too much!
Its been really albendranius! Later, guys-- Debby Tonte
DUELMASTER W L K POINTS TEAM NAME
TICKET TAKER 2522 4 1 0 140 AVID FANS (65)
CHALLENGER CHAMPIONS W L K POINTS TEAM NAME
A CHEERLEADER 1092 13 10 1 178 AVID FANS (65)
GALAPAGOS 5101 13 5 1 130 INTERNATIONAL (554)
GATTILIAN 5006 20 11 4 124 TIME STALLYANS (547)
DOOR DINGS 5247 21 14 0 110 BASH BROS CARS (562)
UKKO 4780 14 4 1 110 GOING BERSERK (527)
PTOMAINE 5002 19 12 2 106 TIME STALLYANS (547)
ICHABOD CRANE 4352 14 7 2 99 PHANTOM REGIMENT (496)
PROWLER 4350 14 9 0 99 PHANTOM REGIMENT (496)
ROBERT FROST 5021 13 4 2 97 DEAD POETS (548)
FLYING DUTCHMAN 4469 13 6 0 97 PHANTOM REGIMENT (496)
MONGOLIA 5100 9 0 1 96 INTERNATIONAL (554)
MAITRE BOULANGER 4888 7 5 0 94 LA BOULANGE (533)
CHAMPIONS W L K POINTS TEAM NAME
DEAD BATTERY 5248 10 7 1 90 BASH BROS CARS (562)
RUSTY SABITCH 5111 7 1 0 88 LAW DOGS (555)
MARSH FELLOW 4815 9 4 1 87 SHEWISH BUFFET (520)
-SVAMPBOB 4510 8 3 0 86 MIKES HEROES (509)
SCANDAL SAVAGE 4753 19 9 1 81 DARQUE FORCES (428)
JACK MCCHOW 5104 9 4 0 79 LAW DOGS (555)
SHARPER IMAGE 5173 9 12 1 78 YUPPIE HORDE (560)
-PINGU 4439 7 9 0 78 MIKES HEROES (509)
WAR MAIDEN 4743 17 15 1 74 DARQUE FORCES (428)
AN ARENA DOCTOR 4175 13 15 1 73 AVID FANS (65)
FOMO 5172 13 8 0 72 YUPPIE HORDE (560)
HUMAN BEAN 4853 7 1 0 70 SHEWISH BUFFET (520)
CHOPPER 5044 4 3 1 70 THE MENTORS RIDE (550)
BENDER 4804 6 2 0 69 SIMPLETONS (424)
WISCONSIN 5079 7 2 1 67 BATTLE SHIPS (552)
CHALLENGER ADEPTS W L K POINTS TEAM NAME
SLOPPY JOE 4797 8 12 0 66 SHEWISH BUFFET (520)
CHALLENGER ADEPTS W L K POINTS TEAM NAME
ALPHA REV 5213 7 1 1 66 CSU COLLEGE RADIO (561)
BOMBAY BIKE CLUB 5214 8 6 0 64 CSU COLLEGE RADIO (561)
LIKES ME 5269 6 3 0 61 OTIS LIKES LUNGERS (565)
LE FOURNER 4895 7 7 0 60 LA BOULANGE (533)
GRATEFUL DEAD 4525 6 10 0 60 PHANTOM REGIMENT (496)
L'APPRENTI 4898 8 7 0 58 LA BOULANGE (533)
RAINBOW DASH 5143 6 1 0 58 PONY BRIGADE (558)
WRATHCHILD 4407 10 10 0 57 MAIDEN JAPAN (504)
-ARIANA 3500 8 1 0 57 DESCENDENTS OF DARK (291)
RIME-ANCIENT MARINER 4496 8 3 0 57 MAIDEN JAPAN (504)
ADEPTS W L K POINTS TEAM NAME
-STORABOLLEN 4509 10 5 2 56 MIKES HEROES (509)
INSOLENT FURY 5169 10 2 1 56 YUPPIE HORDE (560)
NOT ME 5271 3 4 0 53 OTIS LIKES LUNGERS (565)
-WARSTRIKE 3436 12 15 1 52 DESCENDENTS OF DARK (291)
LADY MACDEATH 4774 11 9 1 52 DARQUE FORCES (428)
RUNNING FREE 4406 10 9 0 52 MAIDEN JAPAN (504)
ME TOO 5267 5 4 0 51 OTIS LIKES LUNGERS (565)
SECURITY GUARD 4825 5 4 1 50 AVID FANS (65)
A REPORTER 4758 8 5 1 49 AVID FANS (65)
UNDK 4872 5 3 1 49 GOING BERSERK (527)
ATTICUS PINSCHER 5110 5 3 0 49 LAW DOGS (555)
SPECTRE 4651 2 2 0 48 PHANTOM REGIMENT (496)
ROCK OF AGES 5096 10 10 0 45 INTERNATIONAL (554)
NIKKI 4954 2 4 0 45 WRATHMEN 1.1 (543)
PATHFINDER 4988 6 2 1 44 TIME STALLYANS (547)
-KEJSAREN 4584 7 6 0 43 MIKES HEROES (509)
RASAM 5117 4 3 0 42 WOB AFW (556)
EDGAR ALLAN POE 5016 6 8 0 41 DEAD POETS (548)
BOULDER 5215 5 6 0 40 CSU COLLEGE RADIO (561)
SWISS ALP 5098 9 6 2 39 INTERNATIONAL (554)
EIRE 5097 7 3 1 39 INTERNATIONAL (554)
RUSTBELT 4931 4 2 1 38 FORCE OF FIVE (539)
THE JOKER 4916 3 2 0 38 VILLAINS WE LOVE (537)
AMMOZON 5256 3 0 0 38 DARQUE FORCES (428)
CHRISTINA 4957 4 1 0 37 WRATHMEN 1.1 (543)
CHICAGO 4801 4 2 0 37 SIMPLETONS (424)
ALDON 5120 4 0 0 37 WOB AFW (556)
PAIN MAIDEN 5266 3 2 0 36 PAIN AND PLEASURE (564)
BRAVE NEW WORLD 4453 5 12 3 35 MAIDEN JAPAN (504)
PERRO MASON 5109 5 7 0 34 LAW DOGS (555)
CHALLENGER INITIATES W L K POINTS TEAM NAME
QUATAN 4887 4 4 0 33 GOING BERSERK (527)
IT GUY 4959 3 1 0 33 SIMPLETONS (424)
IMA SLAYA 4946 3 1 0 33 IMA BUBBA 2 (541)
HMS CENTURIAN 5068 4 0 0 32 BATTLE SHIPS (552)
KELLI 4955 4 1 0 32 WRATHMEN 1.1 (543)
BLACK AND WHITE 5137 3 0 0 32 MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE (557)
-LORD BATTLESTONE 3485 8 7 0 31 DESCENDENTS OF DARK (291)
JOE TWITCH 4934 3 3 0 31 FORCE OF FIVE (539)
VADER 4914 2 2 0 31 VILLAINS WE LOVE (537)
ME EITHER 5268 6 2 0 30 OTIS LIKES LUNGERS (565)
BISHOP 5116 5 2 0 30 WOB AFW (556)
CLAWRENCE DARROW 5105 3 1 1 30 LAW DOGS (555)
EXTRA USAGE 5152 3 0 0 29 NOV FUN 14 (559)
MELISSA 4953 2 3 0 29 WRATHMEN 1.1 (543)
BUBBLES 4935 4 2 0 28 FORCE OF FIVE (539)
KIT KAT KATANA 4901 3 2 1 28 CANDY CRUSHERS (534)
NO WASHER FLUID 5233 3 0 0 28 BASH BROS CARS (562)
STUNTMAN 4932 4 2 0 27 FORCE OF FIVE (539)
BATTLE WAGON 5275 2 1 1 27 BATTLE SHIPS (552)
CHALLENGER INITIATES W L K POINTS TEAM NAME
HIT A POLE 5231 2 1 0 27 BASH BROS CARS (562)
FAMILY RECIPE 4854 4 2 0 26 SHEWISH BUFFET (520)
SARA JANE MOORE 5061 3 1 1 26 BIG LAKE KILLERS (551)
DEVIL DOG 4975 2 2 0 26 1ST DIVISION (545)
LEAN HOG 5255 2 1 0 26 HOWLIN SLAUGHTER (563)
CAR SEAT HEADREST 5210 2 1 0 26 CSU COLLEGE RADIO (561)
A FUNKY NIGHTMARE 4905 2 2 0 26 ABATTOIR 5 BLADES (535)
IMA GETCHA 4944 4 1 0 24 IMA BUBBA 2 (541)
TED BUNDY 5059 3 1 1 24 BIG LAKE KILLERS (551)
PRISM GLIDER 5146 2 1 1 24 PONY BRIGADE (558)
-NIMROD CAIN 4963 2 1 0 24 BOTTOM OF THE WORLD (301)
INITIATES W L K POINTS TEAM NAME
BUTTERSCOTCH BASHER 4903 2 3 0 23 CANDY CRUSHERS (534)
LEMON 5241 2 1 0 23 BASH BROS CARS (562)
USKURNTAI 4886 3 5 0 22 GOING BERSERK (527)
YAMATO 5083 2 2 0 22 BATTLE SHIPS (552)
ZIPPORWHILL 5138 2 2 0 22 PONY BRIGADE (558)
THE MOUNTAIN 4969 4 2 0 21 ICE-N-FIRE (544)
OZARKS 5046 4 3 0 21 THE MENTORS RIDE (550)
ME THREE 5270 2 5 1 21 OTIS LIKES LUNGERS (565)
CHOKE-A-LOTS 4936 2 1 1 21 FREE CANDY (540)
LEATHER NECK 4976 2 2 0 21 1ST DIVISION (545)
THE HOUND 4968 3 3 0 20 ICE-N-FIRE (544)
MOCHIZUKI CHIYOME 5283 2 0 0 20 TIME STALLYANS (547)
BLUE HORSESHOE 5039 2 1 0 20 OTTODROME XLV (549)
-LYRATH 5092 2 1 0 20 RUNEMASTERS (553)
SNOW 4971 4 2 1 19 ICE-N-FIRE (544)
ODD AND EVEN 5135 1 2 0 19 MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE (557)
MAN ABOUT TOWN 5038 1 2 0 19 OTTODROME XLV (549)
BATTLE FROG 5167 3 2 0 18 YUPPIE HORDE (560)
BLOW OUT 5043 2 8 0 18 THE MENTORS RIDE (550)
PORTLY FELLOW 5035 2 2 0 18 OTTODROME XLV (549)
GLUTEN FREE 5053 2 1 0 18 LA BOULANGE (533)
BIRTHDAY CAKE 5037 2 1 0 18 OTTODROME XLV (549)
TWISTED 5113 2 1 0 17 WOB AFW (556)
GUMMI BEAR GAVEL 5089 2 1 0 17 CANDY CRUSHERS (534)
HAPPY AND SAD 5136 1 2 0 17 MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE (557)
CARAMEL CUDGEL 4900 1 2 0 17 CANDY CRUSHERS (534)
BONKERS 4938 0 3 0 17 FREE CANDY (540)
-LORD KNIGHTMARE 3618 4 4 0 16 DESCENDENTS OF DARK (291)
THEON 5056 4 1 0 16 ICE-N-FIRE (544)
EDMUND KEMPER 5058 3 1 0 16 BIG LAKE KILLERS (551)
LOHENGRIN 4933 2 4 0 16 FORCE OF FIVE (539)
THE FEVER DREAMER 4906 1 3 0 16 ABATTOIR 5 BLADES (535)
KARRIANA 5260 2 2 1 15 PAIN AND PLEASURE (564)
PELOSI 5165 2 2 1 15 SIMPLETONS (424)
RICH AND POOR 5133 0 3 0 15 MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE (557)
MASTER GUNS 5258 2 1 0 14 1ST DIVISION (545)
SYLVIA PLATH 5008 2 2 0 14 DEAD POETS (548)
SANDTIGER 5273 2 1 0 14 TIME STALLYANS (547)
SHRIMP SCAMP 4855 1 5 0 14 SHEWISH BUFFET (520)
TIRPITZ 5276 1 2 0 14 BATTLE SHIPS (552)
NASTY SAND DANCER 4907 0 4 0 14 ABATTOIR 5 BLADES (535)
UPTOWN FUNK 5168 0 2 0 14 YUPPIE HORDE (560)
STICKY SITUATION 4904 0 4 0 14 ABATTOIR 5 BLADES (535)
ARTHUR BREMER 5060 3 2 0 13 BIG LAKE KILLERS (551)
HAPPY WHEAL 5150 1 2 0 13 NOV FUN 14 (559)
TRUMP AND TRUTH 5134 1 2 0 13 MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE (557)
PEZ PULVERIZER 5287 1 0 0 13 CANDY CRUSHERS (534)
ARAVAE 5285 2 0 0 12 PAIN AND PLEASURE (564)
-DRAXON 5091 2 1 0 12 RUNEMASTERS (553)
DARK HELMET 5293 1 0 1 12 VILLAINS WE LOVE (537)
INITIATES W L K POINTS TEAM NAME
PETIT PAIN 5054 1 2 0 12 LA BOULANGE (533)
POTHOLE 5207 2 2 0 11 THE MENTORS RIDE (550)
-PT STUD 5159 2 0 0 11 3RD MECH (546)
-BROGAN 5095 2 1 0 11 RUNEMASTERS (553)
DR. EVIL 5041 2 1 0 11 VILLAINS WE LOVE (537)
KIT KAT 5281 2 1 0 11 FREE CANDY (540)
-SCARFACE RON 5065 1 2 0 11 BOTTOM OF THE WORLD (301)
FREDDY 4920 0 3 0 11 VILLAINS WE LOVE (537)
BEETLE 5157 3 1 0 10 3RD MECH (546)
-RAGE 3637 2 4 0 10 DESCENDENTS OF DARK (291)
ARYA 4972 2 4 0 10 ICE-N-FIRE (544)
LIVE CATTLE 5253 2 1 0 9 HOWLIN SLAUGHTER (563)
BIG DUMMY 5087 2 2 0 9 SIMPLETONS (424)
IMA PIMP 5062 2 1 0 9 IMA BUBBA 2 (541)
BUTTER BAR 5158 1 3 0 9 3RD MECH (546)
-OCTO REX 5090 1 2 0 9 BOTTOM OF THE WORLD (301)
SKETCHY JEFF 5036 0 3 0 9 OTTODROME XLV (549)
ARISTOPHANES 5103 2 2 0 8 DEAD POETS (548)
VIRGIL 5280 1 2 0 8 DEAD POETS (548)
-MYRINA 5094 1 2 0 8 RUNEMASTERS (553)
USURP IDOL 5151 2 1 0 7 NOV FUN 14 (559)
THE VEAL DEAL 5251 2 1 0 7 HOWLIN SLAUGHTER (563)
ORFEO HART 5086 1 2 0 7 FREE CANDY (540)
-MIKE 4927 0 3 0 7 BOTTOM OF THE WORLD (301)
A HAMMER FAVORITE 5274 0 3 0 7 ABATTOIR 5 BLADES (535)
TAFFY RESERVOIR 5208 1 2 0 5 NOV FUN 14 (559)
FEEDER 5252 1 2 0 5 HOWLIN SLAUGHTER (563)
RECON 5259 1 2 0 5 1ST DIVISION (545)
IMPERIA PAYNE 5085 1 2 0 5 FREE CANDY (540)
GRUNT 5148 0 4 0 4 1ST DIVISION (545)
SARGE 4978 0 4 0 4 3RD MECH (546)
TENDER TAPS 5139 0 3 0 3 PONY BRIGADE (558)
MUTTON HONEY 5254 0 3 0 3 HOWLIN SLAUGHTER (563)
GINSU 5282 0 2 0 2 WOB AFW (556)
BRUCE BRENIZER 5294 0 1 0 1 BIG LAKE KILLERS (551)
-SATCHEL PUDDIN' 5284 0 1 0 1 BOTTOM OF THE WORLD (301)
'-' denotes a warrior who did not fight this turn.
THE DEAD W L K TEAM NAME SLAIN BY TURN Revenge?
JAR HEAD 4973 0 1 0 1ST DIVISION 545 PELOSI 5165 384
ARTY 5156 1 1 0 3RD MECH 546 CHOKE-A-LOTS 4936 386
THE POISON BLADE 4908 0 1 0 ABATTOIR 5 BLADE 535 SARA JANE MOORE 5061 384
GARY RIDGEWAY 5057 0 3 0 BIG LAKE KILLERS 551 CLAWRENCE DARROW 5105 386
WONKA WRECKING B 5032 1 1 0 CANDY CRUSHERS 534 KARRIANA 5260 386
ADHDIVA 5257 0 3 0 DARQUE FORCES 428 BANDIT PRINCE 387 NONE
BEA LIGERENT 4812 5 6 0 DARQUE FORCES 428 RUSTBELT 4931 384 REVENGED
PABLO NERUDA 5009 0 1 0 DEAD POETS 548 KALROTH 5093 384 REVENGED
IMA SLACKA 5278 0 1 0 IMA BUBBA 2 541 PRISM GLIDER 5146 385 JUST REVENGED
POWERSLAVE 5155 1 2 0 MAIDEN JAPAN 504 PATHFINDER 4988 386
MID UNDO 5153 2 1 0 NOV FUN 14 559 BATTLE WAGON 5275 387
GERALDINE 5263 3 1 0 PAIN AND PLEASUR 564 INSOLENT FURY 5169 387
MAZE 5286 0 2 0 PAIN AND PLEASUR 564 MOUNTAIN TROLL 387 NONE
TENDERHOOF 5145 1 6 0 PONY BRIGADE 558 TED BUNDY 5059 387
KALROTH 5093 2 1 1 RUNEMASTERS 553 ROBERT FROST 5021 386
SHADOW 5047 4 4 0 THE MENTORS RIDE 550 UNDK 4872 387
LONESOME FOX 4989 3 5 0 TIME STALLYANS 547 BRAVE NEW WORLD 4453 385 JUST REVENGED
MOJO JOJO 5272 0 2 0 VILLAINS WE LOVE 537 KIT KAT KATANA 4901 386 JUST REVENGED
SALMAN 5118 3 2 0 WOB AFW 556 SECURITY GUARD 4825 385
REP #1 5295 0 1 0 WRATHMEN 1.1 543 DARK HELMET 5293 387
PERSONAL ADS
Of course I shall have ads. We Internationals cannot afford to loose points for
CONSCRIP. No way! -- U. N., Manager of Internationals
U.N. -- Of course you have ads, just like you have loose points, just like your loose
morals. Just don't go losing any points. -- Crip, mgr of Avid Fans
Rasam -- Do you really think we need to go another round? -- A Security
Guard
Maitre Boulanger -- Were you really going for a sounds like something inappropriate
translation? -- Ticket Taker
L'Apprenti -- Schooling the master and the apprentice! That's just icing on the cake.
-- A Reporter
Rusty Sabitch -- And so are so random matchups. -- A Cheerleader
Kejsaren -- Do you have a boo-boo? Could I fix it up with one of these little band-
aids? -- An Arena Doctor
Little did I expect, last turn, to be 2nd best on CONSCRIP with a 4-1. Clearly Crip is
the master. -- U. N.
P.S. Kudos, Crip; and thanks!
Me Three, I think I might like all of you, too! -- Eire, Internationals
Wisconsin, did you have to make me the laughingstock of The Internationals? Arg! --
Swiss Alp
Grateful Dead you should be greatful you aren't. -- Rock Of Ages
Dead Battery, you should have your boss spend less time on DM, and more on his cars.
You think? -- Galapagos
Bender, a simpleton a day keeps the doctor, and the infirmary, away! -- Mongolis
Ahhh, yes, those good ole FONZ days ..... can you all imagine writing a spotlight
EVERY two weeks? Can you? It was definitely the bane of some. -- U. N. (a good friend
of The Crazy Creepster)
Jessica -- Just business. I hope you understand. -- Human Bean of Shewish Buffet
Lohengrin -- Its nice to have company down here at 1-4. -- Shrimp Scamp
FOMO -- That was nice, feel free to try again anytime -- UKKO
Jack McChow -- Bad match-up for the second time in a row. Thanks for enabling me to
get my invite, though... -- SNAEGH
BLOW OUT -- Quite a shame, you really could have earned me my 1st K... -- QUATAN
Slaughterhouse contestants -- Ok you've had it easy from us until this point, but the
beasts are about to awaken (or at least the F.R.O.G.Z.) -- La Guillotine, Going
Berserk
Damn! An ugly sandbagger always finds worse than him... congrats to the ugliest,
Ticket Taker! -- Maitre Boulanger, mastered
I Thought Theon was a good guy... interesting 20 pts DC against a 1 pt loser... -- Le
Pentarque, trying to comfort Petit Pain
Rustbelt -- That should have happened a turn earlier, but I'm not sure what happened
to my fight orders. Since there are no points for another fight this turn, you get a
breather. -- Scandal Savage
Prowler -- I do so much better in random match ups than challenges. Perhaps, I need to
just let fate determine my next opponent. -- War Maiden
Chopper -- Well, that was embarrassing! -- Lady MacDeath
Family Recipe -- I think that loss has sealed my fate. -- ADHDiva
Devil Dog -- Our names paint us out to be a match made in heaven, but the outcome for
you seems like hell is a more likely setting. -- Ammozon
Arya -- Next time I'll make you truly one of the faceless ones. -- Portly Fellow
Maze -- LOVED beating the crap out of you -- Blue Horseshoe
Arya -- Next time I'll make you truly one of the faceless ones. -- Portly Fellow
Maze -- LOVED beating the crap out of you -- Blue Horseshoe
Hammer -- Don't go joining a team and then saying the game has passed you by! Turn it
around! I know those blades are sharp! -- The other half of Phantom Blades
War Maiden -- I do love it when someone challenges me thinking it will be easy and
then that happens. Especially when that someone was above me in the standings! --
Prowler
Rock of Ages -- And even after that I'm still ranked higher! What's with that? -
Grateful Dead
Rime -- Are you sure your armor wasn't defective or something? Thanks for the
challenge. -- Spectre
Bombay Bike Club -- Now that is how a Phantom is supposed to do it! -- Flying Dutchman
Poe -- A dead poet! Hey! We have something in common! -- Ichabod Crane of the
Phantom Regiment
Draxon -- Thank you sweetheart! I needed that. -- Christina
Me Either -- Appreciate the popularity boost! -- Nikki
Chicago -- Well, that didn't work out like I had hoped. -- Melissa
Pain Maiden -- Well done. -- Kelli
Human Bean -- No thaks... I've already ate. -- Jessica
Master Darque -- That was a good challenge on your part. Enjoy that small victory. --
Sin Zoo (1st Division)
Blackhart -- Now that I see how you plan to manage your Poets, I will be prepared. --
Sin Zoo (1st Division)
1-4-0. Well, that sucked. Excuse my while I tweet a do over. -- The Donald
Marsh Fellow -- You broke my dagger, you jerk. That was my LAST ONE! -- Sharper Image
Snow -- That's cold, man. -- Uptown Funk
Brave New World -- You almost came to an end...next time. -- Gattilian
Wrathchild -- Damn.....not good lethal enough of a dose. -- Ptomaine
Powerslave -- You are freed from bondage and any other obligation life has to offer.
-- Pathfinder
Dr. Evil -- Demolished is a harsh word, sternly put in his place is how I would have
described that fight. -- Sandtiger
Pothole -- My shocks help up nicely, wouldn't you say? -- Mochizuki Chiyome
Street -- Have you learned your lesson yet? -- Gentleben
Hey Stormcrowe -- HI! -- Assurnasirbanipal -- Assur -- Shewish Drive-Thru -- Bash Bros
Cars
P.S. How is that for a nice easy to search qualifying ad!
Up challenges only for max points?!? Who is the Andorian pansy that came up with that
idea? I'll reiterate as I have for years: recognition points are a poor measure of
morality, fairness, or honor in challenging. -- Assur
P.S. The Delarquan way rules! If I could go back in time, I'd go back the Aruak
invasion. Sounds like too much fun.
Butter Bar -- You -- Hit a Pole
Stormcrowe Slaughterhouse Psycho Participants -- Hammer Here! Making sure my +5 points
for my Team Spotlight titled YOU GET WHAT YOU NEED is not negated by a -5 points for
failing to write a P-ad for the DM-45 Turn-387 Stormcrowe Arena Newsletter! -- Hammer,
mgr Abattoir 5 Blades; teamed with Nomad's Phantom Regiment as Squad 9: Phantom
Blades
Kit Kat Katana -- You suck! May your blood spill heavily upon the sands of Stormcrowe!
-- Spirit
Step one of successful Contest dominance by Consordomites:
Step 1: Remind RSI how much money you provide every week.
Step 2: Request from RSI and receive from RSI all 15-21 CN RUs possible as to pick and
choose which scum is preferable.
Step 3: Have RSI run "Consordomite Code" thru Hal so 3-9 wit Scum learn like 17-21.
Turn on endurance, Hit Points and, Damage boost.
Step 4: DC anyone you feel like.
Step 5: Remind RSI how much money you provide every week.
Street Legal -- By now I'm sure you looking into every Spam Blocker known to man
trying to get rid of Spirit. Ignoring him won't work. I'm sorry, my friend but, you
may need to enter the "Spirit Protection Program." Because of his Blight, the
Government has designed a program to wisk away unwitting citizens who may have
befriended Spirit by accident. Get out now while you still can!!! -- Deeders
Bill.....Go....have a great summer!!!!
Assureashellyouaintmypal -- I couldn't help but take notice of your ad at the Rusty
Hook looking for Sheep and other livestock for your guildhouse.....what I found odd
was the post script...."we pay more for the pretty ones"!!!! Sad days indeed. --
Deeders
Uskurntai -- I'd be going berserk too if my momma gave me a name like yours. -- Prism
Glider
Lemon -- Pucker up! You know you suck when you down-challenge a guy with an 0-5 record
and lose. I'd say that loss was well deserved! -- Tenderhoof
Lyrath -- I'm starting to think I'm going to have a very short career. -- Tender Taps
Odd & Even -- I'd say that was as perfect a random match-up as I could have asked for
from the GC. -- Zipporwhill
Mojo Jojo's Ghost -- Sugar... spice... and everything nice. These were the
ingredients chosen to create the perfect candy. But Dameon Darkheart accidentally
added an extra ingredient to the concoction... Chemical X! Thus the Candy Crushers
were born! Using their ultra-superpowers, Butterscotch Basher, Caramel Cudgel, Gummi
Bear Gavel, Kit Kat Katana, and Pez Pulverizer have dedicated their lives to fighting
crime and the forces of evil!
Stuntman -- Ye lucky dobber. 'at willnae happen again! -- Butterscotch Basher
Kalroth -- Welcome to the land of the Dead. -- Robert Frost
Ichabod Crane -- You've got a good head on your shoulders. Hope you keep it. -- Edgar
Alan Poe
Bubbles -- Bubbles?!? Bubbles?!?! Who's your PR man? -- Sylvia Plath
Pelosi -- I wiped the floor with you. -- Virgil
Grunt -- What can I say? I like fighting you. -- Aristophanes
Ted Bundy -- Something about you makes my skin crawl, stay away! -- Shadow
Lady Macdeath -- I had thought your sir name to be one of vocation, but maybe it is
instead prophetic in nature. -- Chopper
Bishop -- would you like my recipe for fish tacos? -- Ozarks
All -- Prepare to be slaughtered! -- Howlin' Wolf
Darque -- Thanks for running a great contest! (Except the spotlight writing part ...)
-- HW
Darque -- My team has not been performing up to snuff... I promise to light a fire
under them for the rest of the contest. -- Floyd
Simpletons -- I thought your team name was very clever until I saw my namesake attend
a night fight a few turns back. I hope your manager knows how to avoid me as much as
he does in other arenas! -- Philthy Phil, manager "Ice-n-Fire"
How that was a crappy turn!!! What the heck is my spotlight going to be about ?!?! --
Khisanth
Vlad -- Thanks, you too! -- Jerman
Jerman -- Nice spot! -- Vlad
Hammer -- Not only has the game passed you by, but also fashion, hair styles, hygiene,
and life. Breathe, choke, die, the best advice I can offer you. -- Den
Vlad -- Well, just looky at you getting a lucky kill on me last turn. Are you going
to sit that warrior as well? Seems like something a pervert like you would do. I
hear that you really suck, and it's not blood. -- Den
Womanta -- Yikes! You should change the name of your team to Bottom of the Rankings
as that is where you are heading. You're not doing very well here, are you? Do you
think that your estrogen prevents you from managing well? - Den
Sin Zoo -- I don't know you, and I am perfectly happy with that. But, a question, is
your name derived from a night of fun at the zoo? -- Den
Gentile Ben -- At first I thought people didn't like you because of your hat, but
turns out it because you are really weird looking. -- Den
Presstone -- I wish you were one of the Teams on the Move, not the ranked ones, but
the ones moving out of the arena. Really clepto, come up with a new team name once
every generation or something. -- Den
Manaqueen -- Do you have a team here with anyone worth challenging? -- Den
Sprite -- As I told you before, you are not to talk in this arena. At least you can
listen well. -- Den
Gentleben -- As the highest ranking member of Maiden Japan I must declare that we
cannot exponentially expand the DC action that you exponentially took on us for our DC
kill of your team member.... let it be known though that there's a good chance we will
seek every possible advantage against you whenever we can for the duration of this
contest! -- Wrathchild, Maiden Japan, The Deplorables team
Nikki -- I hit like a 4 year old but I can go for days. You need to work on that
cardio. -- Me Either
Running Free -- That kind of stopped you in your tracks, eh? -- Likes Me
LAST WEEK'S FIGHTS
ADHDIVA was butchered by BANDIT PRINCE in a 1 minute Dark Arena fight.
MAZE was dealt death by MOUNTAIN TROLL in a 1 minute Dark Arena duel.
PATHFINDER subdued BRAVE NEW WORLD in a 1 minute Bloodfeud melee.
IMA SLAYA demolished PRISM GLIDER in a 1 minute uneven Bloodfeud fight.
VADER devastated KIT KAT KATANA in a 1 minute one-sided Bloodfeud contest.
ARTHUR BREMER was savagely defeated by CLAWRENCE DARROW in a 5 minute Bloodfeud match.
RECON was vanquished by PELOSI in a 1 minute mismatched Bloodfeud fight.
ROBERT FROST was beaten by GALAPAGOS in a popular 2 minute master's Challenge brawl.
SNAEGH was handily defeated by GATTILIAN in a 1 minute uneven Challenge melee.
DOOR DINGS slimly won victory over A CHEERLEADER in a 3 minute Challenge duel.
FOMO was overpowered by FLYING DUTCHMAN in a 1 minute one-sided Challenge fight.
PTOMAINE overpowered SCANDAL SAVAGE in a 1 minute one-sided Challenge match.
RUSTY SABITCH devastated WISCONSIN in a 1 minute mismatched Challenge conflict.
ICHABOD CRANE subdued MAITRE BOULANGER in a popular 3 minute master's Challenge match.
HUMAN BEAN handily defeated SECURITY GUARD in a 1 minute one-sided Challenge conflict.
CHOPPER bested WRATHCHILD in a 1 minute Challenge duel.
GRATEFUL DEAD slimly lost to BENDER in a crowd pleasing 4 minute Challenge bout.
AN ARENA DOCTOR bested LE FOURNER in a exciting 1 minute veteran's Challenge fight.
JACK MCCHOW savagely defeated BOMBAY BIKE CLUB in a 4 minute veteran's Challenge bout.
PAIN MAIDEN was devastated by SLOPPY JOE in a 1 minute one-sided Challenge contest.
RAINBOW DASH vanquished SPECTRE in a 1 minute one-sided Challenge match.
LADY MACDEATH viciously subdued CHICAGO in a action packed 2 minute Challenge duel.
ALDON defeated MELISSA in a popular 2 minute Challenge match.
RUSTBELT outlasted PERRO MASON in a 7 minute Challenge duel.
TWISTED was overpowered by THE JOKER in a 1 minute uneven Challenge fight.
SHADOW was assassinated by UNDK in a 1 minute gruesome one-sided Challenge bout.
PORTLY FELLOW was overpowered by CHRISTINA in a 1 minute uneven Challenge duel.
AMMOZON handily defeated EDMUND KEMPER in a 1 minute mismatched Challenge bout.
MAN ABOUT TOWN was vanquished by BOULDER in a 1 minute one-sided Challenge bout.
USKURNTAI was overpowered by KELLI in a 1 minute uneven Challenge duel.
HIT A POLE overpowered BLOW OUT in a 1 minute one-sided Challenge match.
NO WASHER FLUID luckily beat ME THREE in a exciting 3 minute brutal Challenge fight.
SHRIMP SCAMP was outlasted by THE MOUNTAIN in a monotonous 16 minute Challenge fray.
QUATAN vanquished GUMMI BEAR GAVEL in a 2 minute brutal mismatched Challenge fight.
STICKY SITUATION was demolished by LEMON in a 1 minute one-sided Challenge struggle.
A FUNKY NIGHTMARE handily defeated DR. EVIL in a 1 minute one-sided Challenge fight.
EXTRA USAGE savagely defeated THEON in a 2 minute brutal Challenge conflict.
IMA GETCHA won victory over BUTTERSCOTCH BASHER in a 2 minute Challenge bout.
SNOW was outlasted by BUBBLES in a popular 7 minute bloody Challenge duel.
LEATHER NECK narrowly defeated BONKERS in a 3 minute Challenge competition.
ZIPPORWHILL was outlasted by IT GUY in a action packed 9 minute Challenge battle.
BISHOP bested CHOKE-A-LOTS in a crowd pleasing 2 minute Challenge match.
SKETCHY JEFF was vanquished by BATTLE FROG in a 1 minute one-sided Challenge conflict.
BIRTHDAY CAKE unbelievably bested LIVE CATTLE in a 5 minute Challenge match.
IMA PIMP outwaited ARYA in a tiresome 12 minute gory Challenge match.
ARISTOPHANES was subdued by GLUTEN FREE in a 3 minute gory beginner's Challenge fight.
GRUNT was beaten by BIG DUMMY in a 1 minute novice's Challenge fray.
HAPPY WHEAL handily defeated SARGE in a 1 minute one-sided Challenge duel.
MASTER GUNS subdued TRUMP AND TRUTH in a 2 minute Challenge conflict.
VIRGIL was beaten by BLUE HORSESHOE in a 1 minute brutal Challenge battle.
GINSU was defeated by ORFEO HART in a 2 minute amateur's Challenge bout.
LEAN HOG savagely defeated THE FEVER DREAMER in a 2 minute Challenge struggle.
MUTTON HONEY was bested by BUTTER BAR in a 1 minute amateur's Challenge fight.
MOCHIZUKI CHIYOME demolished NASTY SAND DANCER in a 1 minute Challenge contest.
TICKET TAKER overpowered DEAD BATTERY in a 1 minute mismatched Title duel.
PROWLER defeated SHARPER IMAGE in a 2 minute master's fight.
NANU NANU handily defeated MARSH FELLOW in a 1 minute one-sided contest.
UKKO overpowered WAR MAIDEN in a 1 minute uneven fight.
MONGOLIA demolished KHALHUMS DWARF in a crowd pleasing 1 minute one-sided conflict.
ROCK OF AGES was viciously subdued by L'APPRENTI in a 2 minute bloody veteran's fight.
A REPORTER was luckily beaten by RIME-ANCIENT MARINER in a 6 minute duel.
ALPHA REV overpowered RASAM in a action packed 1 minute gruesome one-sided fight.
EDGAR ALLAN POE was beaten by RUNNING FREE in a 2 minute battle.
INSOLENT FURY narrowly killed GERALDINE in a 3 minute duel.
STUNTMAN was overpowered by ATTICUS PINSCHER in a 1 minute mismatched fight.
LIKES ME demolished EIRE in a 1 minute mismatched duel.
ME EITHER was savagely defeated by NIKKI in a exciting 3 minute gory match.
ME TOO overpowered FAMILY RECIPE in a 1 minute one-sided fight.
SWISS ALP was devastated by NOT ME in a exciting 1 minute mismatched duel.
HMS CENTURIAN handily defeated UPTOWN FUNK in a 1 minute one-sided match.
BLACK AND WHITE vanquished SYLVIA PLATH in a 1 minute one-sided brawl.
LOHENGRIN narrowly defeated RICH AND POOR in a action packed 4 minute gruesome fight.
OZARKS was savagely defeated by JOE TWITCH in a action packed 8 minute conflict.
ODD AND EVEN was viciously subdued by THE HOUND in a popular 3 minute bloody fight.
HAPPY AND SAD was demolished by SARA JANE MOORE in a 1 minute mismatched fray.
TED BUNDY luckily killed TENDERHOOF in a 2 minute bloody bout.
FREDDY was overpowered by TIRPITZ in a 1 minute one-sided struggle.
CAR SEAT HEADREST subdued KARRIANA in a 2 minute fight.
CARAMEL CUDGEL was viciously subdued by YAMATO in a exciting 5 minute gruesome fight.
DEVIL DOG demolished USURP IDOL in a exciting 1 minute one-sided contest.
TAFFY RESERVOIR was beaten by KIT KAT in a 6 minute beginner's duel.
POTHOLE subdued FEEDER in a 1 minute beginner's duel.
THE VEAL DEAL outlasted A HAMMER FAVORITE in a unpopular 14 minute novice's duel.
BEETLE was outlasted by PEZ PULVERIZER in a monotonous 16 minute brawl.
MID UNDO was executed by BATTLE WAGON in a 1 minute one-sided fight.
TENDER TAPS was handily defeated by PETIT PAIN in a 1 minute one-sided melee.
IMPERIA PAYNE was overpowered by SANDTIGER in a exciting 1 minute one-sided bout.
ARAVAE viciously subdued BRUCE BRENIZER in a 2 minute brutal amateur's fight.
DARK HELMET slaughtered REP #1 in a 1 minute uneven contest.
BATTLE REPORT
MOST POPULAR RECORD DURING THE LAST 10 TURNS
|FIGHTING STYLE FIGHTS FIGHTING STYLE W - L - K PERCENT|
|LUNGING ATTACK 34 PARRY-LUNGE 21 - 13 - 1 62 |
|STRIKING ATTACK 29 AIMED BLOW 39 - 31 - 2 56 |
|TOTAL PARRY 22 TOTAL PARRY 58 - 51 - 0 53 |
|BASHING ATTACK 21 PARRY-STRIKE 10 - 10 - 0 50 |
|SLASHING ATTACK 20 LUNGING ATTACK 79 - 81 - 5 49 |
|WALL OF STEEL 19 WALL OF STEEL 48 - 51 - 4 48 |
|AIMED BLOW 14 STRIKING ATTACK 75 - 89 - 4 46 |
|PARRY-LUNGE 7 PARRY-RIPOSTE 13 - 17 - 1 43 |
|PARRY-RIPOSTE 6 BASHING ATTACK 51 - 71 - 4 42 |
|PARRY-STRIKE 3 SLASHING ATTACK 43 - 62 - 1 41 |
Turn 387 was great if you Not so great if you used The fighting styles of the
used the fighting styles: the fighting styles: top eleven warriors are:
AIMED BLOW 9 - 5 SLASHING ATTACK 9 - 11 3 PARRY-LUNGE
WALL OF STEEL 12 - 7 LUNGING ATTACK 15 - 19 3 LUNGING ATTACK
STRIKING ATTACK 17 - 12 BASHING ATTACK 8 - 13 2 WALL OF STEEL
PARRY-LUNGE 4 - 3 PARRY-STRIKE 1 - 2 1 BASHING ATTACK
TOTAL PARRY 11 - 11 PARRY-RIPOSTE 1 - 5 1 TOTAL PARRY
1 STRIKING ATTACK
TOP WARRIOR OF EACH STYLE
FIGHTING STYLE WARRIOR W L K PNTS TEAM NAME
PARRY-LUNGE TICKET TAKER 2522 4 1 0 140 AVID FANS (65)
LUNGING ATTACK A CHEERLEADER 1092 13 10 1 178 AVID FANS (65)
BASHING ATTACK GATTILIAN 5006 20 11 4 124 TIME STALLYANS (547)
TOTAL PARRY DOOR DINGS 5247 21 14 0 110 BASH BROS CARS (562)
WALL OF STEEL UKKO 4780 14 4 1 110 GOING BERSERK (527)
STRIKING ATTACK FLYING DUTCHMAN 4469 13 6 0 97 PHANTOM REGIMENT (496)
SLASHING ATTACK MONGOLIA 5100 9 0 1 96 INTERNATIONAL (554)
PARRY-RIPOSTE MAITRE BOULANGER 4888 7 5 0 94 LA BOULANGE (533)
AIMED BLOW RUSTY SABITCH 5111 7 1 0 88 LAW DOGS (555)
PARRY-STRIKE CHICAGO 4801 4 2 0 37 SIMPLETONS (424)
Note: Warriors have a winning record and are an Adept or Above.
The overall popularity leader is GATTILIAN 5006. The most popular warrior this turn
was JOE TWITCH 4934. The ten other most popular fighters were A REPORTER 4758, SNOW
4971, BENDER 4804, CLAWRENCE DARROW 5105, RICH AND POOR 5133, YAMATO 5083, A
CHEERLEADER 1092, GRATEFUL DEAD 4525, JACK MCCHOW 5104, and LIVE CATTLE 5253.
The least popular fighter this week was BEETLE 5157. The other ten least popular
fighters were PEZ PULVERIZER 5287, THE VEAL DEAL 5251, A HAMMER FAVORITE 5274, THE
MOUNTAIN 4969, IMA PIMP 5062, ZIPPORWHILL 5138, KIT KAT 5281, REP #1 5295, BRUCE
BRENIZER 5294, and TENDER TAPS 5139.
The following warriors will travel to AD after next turn:
TICKET TAKER (45-2522) AVID FANS (65)
The following warriors have traveled to AD after fighting this turn:
SNAEGH (45-4792) GOING BERSERK (527)
NANU NANU (45-5227) CSU COLLEGE RADIO (561)