Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
at adventu, we believe that colorful story and plots far outweigh the need for a battle system. rp should be about the writing, the fun, and the creativity. you will see that the only system on our site is the encouragement to create amazing adventures with other members. welcome to adventu... how will you arrive?
year 5, quarter 3
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Laguna could hear his property manager yelling from the lobby downstairs. He slowly rolled over in his bed onto his back and sighed. Even after hanging up his dog tags, there was still no time to sleep in. Still, being an early riser by force significantly outweighed the prospect of falling off of icy cliffs or being shot at. He sat up and took a moment to admire the quaint living space he had been afforded since he had woken up with no memory.
Across the room his bookcase was filled with picture frames of all shapes and sizes. All pictures he had taken traveling through Torenseten and the surrounding area, full of marvels and mysteries that were nothing like anything from his previous life. Or had he just forgotten all of these marvels along with his memories? Aside from aspiring to be a journalist, these pictures kept him grounded. If he were ever to lose more memories, the pictures would always be here to remind him.
To the right of that in the opposite corner of the room was his desk, littered with pamphlets and reams of paper stacked haphazardly in a fortress like formation protecting a rather old typewriter he had purchased in the market. His experience with the device when writing articles had been less like a tango between fingers and keys, and more like a wrestling match between him and the mechanical familiar since it jammed no less than three times every time he would write a new article.
Laguna snatched up his camera and made his way down to the lobby. The aroma of slightly burnt behemoth steak and antlion eggs was intoxicating. Rather than stop and greet the neighbors, he instead rushed out the door into a sea of commotion that was unusually lively, even for Torensten. He had been told that there would be a massive festival today, and he was determined to woo the masses with some groundbreaking coverage.
The streets were littered with jugglers, dancers, minstrels, and small stages with varying theatrical productions. Each venue seemed to have its own unique magic and marvel, as though they came from their own unique world. He had been particularly thrilled with a troupe that had dressed their chocobos with dynamically colored feathers and flowing ribbons that seemed to tacitly spell out an adventurous tale as they spun around and kicked their legs in synchronization to a lively waltz. He was also drawn to a series of futuristic pyrotechnic machines that could conjure fireworks in the shape of some of the most fearsome beasts in Zephon that could still be seen vibrantly in the morning sunlight.
As he continued to patrol for the next big story, the parlor games caught his eye. He figured this might be the opportunity to impress a special someone out there in the crowd, or at least have a good conversation starter if he could put on a particularly impressive performance. He approached the magic pot stand with conviction and his usual degree of overconfidence. *5 tries to hit 3 pots!* read the sign. Laguna hurled his shots one by one, making the awkward grunting sound that one would make if they had never hucked a ball at anything in their life before. The pots merely hopped out of the way each time in a chorus of laughter, popping their heads out to taunt him by making faces and sticking out their tongues.
Feeling defeated, Laguna retreated to the center of the square where a very tiny man on a grand stage was belting out an announcement in an uncharacteristically loud voice. "Adventurers! Gladiators! Sorcerers! Thieves, and the like! Steel yourselves! Are there no others who would brave the most fearsome beasts and challenge our contestants? Come and prove your worth in glorious combat! There is no greater title than Champion of the Festival of the Hunt!” The crowd immediately erupted in a deafening roar of cheers and whistles. This could be my ticket to finally draw some attention. Laguna sized up the other two contestants that had volunteered to the prospect of being gored in front of a large audience. One was a younger knight wearing gold plated armor, but his posture and gait indicated that his personality was more of a politician than a warrior. The other looked like a jester that had fallen into a box of Christmas decorations. I could take these guys on. No sweat. “I’ll throw my hat in the ring! Sign me up!”
Torensten: this was the name of the city he was told to investigate. Sure, it might have taken him about three days to stumble his way through that Wanderwood, as it was called, but the famous Gilgamesh does not make time to pause on the quest for everlasting greatness! Standing delicately perched atop the needle of a clock tower, the man in the scarlet cloak proudly surveys the bustling streets below, ambition running through his veins like hot fire.
"What liveliness! Such vibrancy and color! So much music and laughter! I think I can even smell barbecue!" Gilgamesh wonders out loud, coming off as rather weird to a passing flock of pigeons. "I was not told that there would be festivities to partake of!" The scatterbrained warrior had originally planned to investigate the many equipment shops and item synthesis specialists with the aims of increasing the size of his weapons collection, but as it turned out, today marked a special observance that Gilgamesh had no awareness of, no thanks to his recent arrival in this wholly foreign realm.
He noticed a gap in the avenue beneath him, and ferociously smirked. "How marvelous! I better jump in and see what all the big fuss is about!" Without delay, Gilgamesh tilts forward and begins a falling descent to the ground, tucking his enormous body into itself to facilitate a rolling flip that directly transitioned into as smooth of a landing as he could muster; the swordsman staggered a bit from the impact, a side effect of how dizzy he felt from all that vertical spinning.
The sudden appearance of Gilgamesh catches a small cluster of people off guard and provokes a few gasps of surprise, but no one is injured from his sloppy athletic display. Even he cannot believe it, since trying those kinds of stunts usually ended up poorly for him, but it does not stop him from trying to save face before the public. "Nailed it! That's true skill right there, ladies and gentlemen!" he boasts nervously, carving away the tension with a few theatrical poses as if he planned for all of this to happen.
When it became perfectly apparent to the perplexed civilians that he was not from around these parts, they wasted no time returning to their daily activities in favor of leaving the outsider to contend with his own delusions of grandeur, a task Gilgamesh had no trouble happily indulging from what it appeared like. For all they were concerned, the stranger was hired on as a replacement harlequin for one of the carnival troupes.
Just as Gilgamesh was beginning to acclimate, he captures mention of a challenge on the wind: a call for people from all walks of life to test their mettle against the world's most dangerous creatures in a contest of strength and will; to seize victory here would earn the winner privilege to be recognized as Champion. Simply the mention of such a prize was enough to instantly get him to start hearing the drums of war.
"If there is no greater title, then it shall be me who claims it!" Gilgamesh triumphantly declares from the edge of the crowd, arms folded into his muscular chest. The people begin to make room for his enormous physique as he took big, confident steps forward to meet the ones that would become his opposition for this trial. So far, no one looked distinct enough for him to approach. "From swordsmen to sneaks, mages to monsters, all who have faced my blade have met their demise! Gilgamesh shows no quarter!" He thrusts a hand forward for passionate emphasis, despite its lack of practical value. "Just don't go running home to your mommies when I show you what for!"
Some of the onlookers weren't too keen on the bravado he was putting out, but a good portion of the crowd didn't seem all that bothered by Gilgamesh's melodramatic behavior, as it made for a more immersive festival experience when all was said and done; either this guy was really big into stage performance, or he was a few wrenches short of a full toolbox.
One thing was certain, however: this would be a festival worth remembering.
"Adventurers! Gladiators! Sorcerers! Thieves, and the like! Steel yourselves! Are there no others who would brave the most fearsome beasts and challenge our contestants? Come and prove your worth in glorious combat! There is no greater title than Champion of the Festival of the Hunt!”
Living nearby Torensten, Caius had stopped in town to pick up some provisions and had instead found that some sort of festival was going on. Curious, he found himself wandering the streets for some time. The last time he had seen a festival like this was the small one they had held in Insomnia after the end of the Darkness. A tiny affair, nothing serious... And nothing like this, for sure. But it was the closest thing that Caius could associate even remotely. Strolling through what felt like a new Torensten, as if none of the horrors that it had faced recently had ever even existed, he had moved past a group of dancers, some of which who gave him looks that he didn't recognize or understand, before the voice that rang out drew his attention. The sudden cry had caused his gunblade to materialize in his hand, and he had been moments from drawing and firing when he realized that the man was giving some sort of speech.
Caius walked toward the stage as he heard the rest of it. A Festival of the Hunt? This was interesting. When had this come about? But... He realized, if a member of the Dragonblades became this Champion of the Festival of the Hunt... It would bring more eyes to the organization and likely bring them more work. In a way, Caius saw this as another means to bring "food" to the table for his "family", so to speak. Another avenue to help them make a living for themselves... And to help more people in turn. Which meant that he needed to do this.
The roar of the crowd indicating a great deal of interest in this whole thing settled his decision. A man with black hair would sign up, calling loudly his intentions. The next... Oh, he knew this one. The swordsman from the woods who smelled worse than the monsters he fought for a living. He listened to the man's speech, a little amazed at his confidence and ability to speak so raucously like a military commander... And yet it amused him at the same time. It all seemed so silly.
But when he stepped forward, Caius didn't expect the hush that fell over the crowd that followed when he did. The Dragonblades were decently known, but Caius had been making his name in Torensten for a very long time now. But that was something that Caius was fairly oblivious to, the name he had made for himself. Not understanding the hush that had fallen, Caius looked around as if thinking perhaps they were waiting to see who would volunteer next. Was he to make some kind of speech like the others?
No, he supposed that wasn't his thing. But he did need to indicate his intentions. It was a shame he didn't bring Vordun into town, for fear of scaring people. He could have shot fire into the air! That would have been big, right? But small and simple would have to do.
The crowd roared, to his surprise again, the moment that Caius silently raised his gunblade into the air. That was his signal of his participation.
FFXIV
22
YEARS
Male
None
Heterosexual
161 POSTS
TheHPDrop
It won't do to twiddle our thumbs and pray for a saviour.
Post by Keimusho Onishi on Oct 13, 2019 19:16:40 GMT -6
Keimusho walked out of an apartment complex with his elderly companion, Aldrich. While Keimusho technically did not live there himself, it was in that building he would stay in his time in Torensten since he looks after the elder due to his amnesia. After having to deal with illusions, a trial courtesy of a ghost, having part of his horn severed, and more, it would be best for the ninja to find a way to blow off steam. And a way he did yet find. The duo's wandering around led them to what seemed to be some sort of special occasion. For the time being the surrounding area held food and other fun activity, but that was not what caught the ninja's intrigue. The ninja turned his attention towards a stage as an individual announced a contest of sorts.
"Adventurers! Gladiators! Sorcerers! Thieves, and the like! Steel yourselves! Are there no others who would brave the most fearsome beasts and challenge our contestants? Come and prove your worth in glorious combat! There is no greater title than Champion of the Festival of the Hunt!”
"The Festival of the Hunt? So that's what this is all about.", the Au Ra muttered to himself. The ninja was not of the sort that liked to draw attention to himself but this competition intrigued him for other reasons. The exuberance the crowd displayed gave the impression that this was a very big occasion and with a competition of some sorts surely there must be an equally noteworthy prize. Keimusho speculated that such a prize must be gil or at least something that could be sold for a sizable sum of it. The ninja himself could do without the money. He had no problem hunting for food or camping outside as he had done prior but he had to keep Aldrich in mind as well. While he managed to obtain living arrangements for Aldrich, that would not change the fact that Aldrich would need gil for other expenses when Keimusho eventually leaves Torensten. If he were to win this competition he would give the reward to Aldrich so he live on his own for a while. The ninja would make his decision. He would enter into this contest. He just hoped that his temporarily impaired hearing due to his severed horn wouldn't affect his performance. The horn was in the process of growing back, but it would still be a few days before it grew back in its entirety.
The ninja edged closer to the stage from where the announcement originated. The ninja looked around to eye some of the contestants. The first was black haired individual who had an air of confidence to him and the second boasted an absurdly higher amount of bravado to the point that he made a speech explaining how each of his foes met their demise courtesy if his blade. He was covered head to toe in red armor that reminded him of the Far East. The last individual was one who Keimusho already acquainted himself with, Caius. Keimusho wanted to ask the Dragonblade how his search of the Original Sin was going but realized that it was perhaps not the most appropriate time to do so. Besides it appeared that the mercenary was soaking in the moment while he raised his gunblade while the crowd was erupting in response. "Wow the Dragonblades really are well known around here.", the ninja thought. After the ninja finished scouting his competition, he announced his participation by simply saying, "I'm in."
The announcer beckoned Laguna up on stage. He shifted through the crowd that seemed to have paid his announcement no heed, still wildly cheering in the direction of the announcer eagerly awaiting the details of this year's most anticipated event. Far too nervous to take his time to find a ramp or staircase upward, Laguna awkwardly planted his torso on the lip of the stage and tried to hoist himself up, failing to kick his right leg up and over the edge a few times before he was eventually hoisted up with the help of a few excited onlookers.
Casually brushing himself off, Laguna gathered his composure when a crash could be heard behind the crowd. Another bystander appeared to be putting on an impromptu street performance to capture the fiery crowd’s attention, but it was immediately obvious that his telegraphed amateur presentation failed to win the hearts of the masses as they turned back to the stage almost immediately.
Seizing the moment, Laguna twirled his machine gun in the air and gave a swift fist pump before his leg immediately cramped up. He keeled over for a moment, massaging and stretching his calf in a cold sweat. He wouldn’t be making a name for himself in this contest without inspiring the crowd to rally behind him, and his accidental vaudeville performance on stage wasn’t exactly the entrance he had in mind.
As Laguna righted himself and calmed his nerves once more, the crowd erupted. Filled with determination, he twirled his gun once more, took a few bows a gestured blowing kisses before he realized the attention of the crowd was anywhere but on him. The oaf of a swordsman was drawing attention as he shoved his way towards the platform, and in the center of the crowd another mercenary had volunteered, gunblade raised, riling up the crowd even louder than before. Laguna squinted to confirm the mercenaries weapon of choice. The iconic weapon was one of the few things that he had encountered since his amnesia that caused past memories to rush back through his mind. What have I gotten myself into?
One by one the contestants made their way up to the stage, each turning to the crowd and rallying support and affection to their cause in their own quirky way. They lined themselves up on display as the Beastmaster of the hunt arrived on stage and began to explain the rich history of the event to the rabid crowd. Laguna was most intimidated by the swordsman who seemed to have more weapons than wits, though his clumsiness was more intimidating than his eccentric appearance. “You must be boiling in all of that armor” Laguna rattled of-of-the-cuff trying to break the ice. The man’s stature reminded him of Ward, and the dozens of arm wrestling contests he had lost to him before Ward started to let him win enough to at least pay for his bar tab at the end of the night.
The gunblade specialist would be a force to be reckoned with too, especially with the masses behind him. “Most people can’t even wield a sword or a gun on their own properly. I’ve fought alongside soldiers with similar weapons back when I was enlisted. Where did you learn how to use a weapon like that?” Laguna was hoping that being inquisitive might reveal a connection to this person, or at least his own long forgotten past that he was still trying to unravel.
Side stepping back towards the Beastmaster without looking where he was going as he transitioned his monologue to the rules of the contest, Laguna cleanly planted his chest directly into another contestant who seemed to have materialized on the stage out of nowhere. He was a massive scaly creature, resembling more of a dragon than a man with long flowing silver hair. Caught off guard, all Laguna managed to squeeze out of his lungs was “Oh hey buddy. Didn’t see you there. I’ll just go this way instead.” before he immediately slinked back, away from the rest of the contestants.
The Beastmaster finally finished his speech, and beckoned the contestants forward for one last briefing away from the ears of the crowd. Laguna’s world began to slowly spin around and stretch away from him like a never ending corridor as nervousness set in. Being a Galbadian war veteran was great on paper, but he would be the first to admit that his training and field experience was not exactly world class. He would have to rely on his cunning mind and quick reflexes, two qualities that his friends still to the last day that he had seen them insisted he did not have.
A palpable silence falls over the rabble of spectators. Gilgamesh proudly folds both arms into his bulky chest, wholly convinced that his mere force of presence had stunned them all into speechlessness. This was to be expected from an illustrious master of weapons such as himself!
Too bad literally nobody else agreed with him in this regard.
Before he is able to bask further in his own delusions of grandeur, the churlish nitwit feels his weight being shoved towards the stage by a few of the competition's organizers, who were pressed to keep things moving along in a timely fashion. There were others that wanted to join the hunt, and this stranger wasn't reading the situation at all. Tourists.
The quietude dissolves into a raucous and mighty cheer when a third man lifts his weapon aloft in a comparatively modest gesture, signalling his own will to participate. Gilgamesh had not finished climbing atop the stage when a fourth challenger—a humanoid creature with horns and scales, dressed the part of a shinobi assassin—also emerged from the shadows of literal and figurative obscurity to take part in the contest.
Only when he took his place beside another fellow sporting a firearm and some rather well-conditioned black hair did Gilgamesh recognize the individual responsible for heating up the audience so passionately, a revelation that caused his blank white eyes to widen like saucers. It was—
Wait. Who was that guy again? He certainly looked familiar...
Oh! That was the fellow from the forest, the chap with the blue dragon thing! Come to think of it, neither of them actually exchanged names with one another, had they? Scatterbrained as he normally was, Gilgamesh never forgot a person's face, and the soldier of fortune was no exception to this rule; after all, he provided an extra hand in helping the warrior to recover his beloved naginata.
His painted lips form a thin smirk. What better way to repay this most gracious act of charity than to demonstrate his legendary prowess in battle first hand?! Today, all shall come to know the immortal legend of the invincible Gilgamesh!
Just as the swordsman began to allow his imagination free reign to thrash about inside that vacuous skull of his, the gun-toting man nearby disrupts his concentration with a statement that proved more obvious than Gilgamesh allowed himself to admit in public. "It is my passion for battle that boils without limit! My blade yearns to be quenched in the blood of fiends!" he crows exuberantly, throwing his arms up in an unconvincing attempt to pretend like he wasn't wiping the sweat from his brow.
When all was finally said and done, Gilgamesh found himself summarily corralled away from the platform alongside his fellow participants to have the rules of the hunt explained in greater detail. Although his ears might have been carefully absorbing information, his eyes were fixated on the blond mercenary's magnificent specimen of a weapon, wondering precisely how he came to acquire such a piece of art and, more importantly, where he could get one of his own.
It was pretty hot outside, though. But a little sweat won't stop the mighty Gilgamesh!
A small smile crossed Caius' face as he walked up to the stage and saw an old friend - Keimushi, walk up to the stage. Now that they weren't in a burning village, he was able to get a better look at the shinobi's armor. Dragon-like scales and horns... Did he kill an actual dragon to make that armor? He would have to ask. Vordun had been shedding a lot recently, and Caius had been considering perhaps building an armor set of his own using them. But he'd only ever made weapons before... Armor was something different entirely. And he did quite like wearing jackets. He liked that they had pockets.
That would have to be a thought for another time. He nodded his head when the ninja stepped onto the stage. "Mu" He spoke respectfully, with courtesy using the name that he would prefer Caius used for him in public. Caius had also said he'd probably use it as a nickname, so it was fine anyway.
As the explanations went on, Caius listened carefully... But he was more focused on mental preparation. The mercenary hopped from one foot to the next, to and fro... Eyes closed as he breathed in rhythm, shaking out his arms, his hands, his wrists, his legs... Stretching himself out as he hopped back and forth, the anticipation driving his adrenaline to highs that made him very much look forward to what was to come.
His pre-battle meditation was interrupted when the first man to enter had spoken up toward him. Asking about his blade, he opened his eyes and straight away noticed the black-haired man used a gunblade of his own. Admittedly, it was the first time that Caius had seen one that wasn't his. He'd heard of their existence... But had never seen one beyond his own.
"Built it" Caius answered curtly. "I learned what was necessary to survive."
FFXIV
22
YEARS
Male
None
Heterosexual
161 POSTS
TheHPDrop
It won't do to twiddle our thumbs and pray for a saviour.
Post by Keimusho Onishi on Oct 16, 2019 12:31:12 GMT -6
After Caius was finished working up the crowd, he turned towards Keimusho and simply called him by "Mu". The ninja appreciated how the mercenary kept his word on using that alias rather than his actual name despite it being as unnecessary as it may be. The ninja approached the mercenary and proceeded to give him a bow. "Hello Caius. Long time no see", he responded to the mercenary's single-worded greeting. Keimusho knew that it would be best to not ask about the mercenary's search for the Original Sin, so instead he opted to inquire about Caius's dragon. "I see that you little companion isn't here with you this day", he said being unaware of the size the dragon grew after his first encounter with Caius. After the exchange with words with the mercenary ceased, the ninja decided to converse with another competitor that peaked his interest: the man shrouded in red armor. After hearing the man's speech he knew that he had a rather exuberant personality, but to what extent he did not know. To put it simply, Keimusho was not aware of the grave mistake he was about to make by conversing with this individual.
The ninja started the walk in the vicinity of the red-armored individual, only to collide with the black-haired individual. This seemed to be happening a lot lately. Sure Keimusho was a shinobi ;however, he wasn't trying to act stealthily. It was almost like he was invisible to some people. The worst part of it was that he could not hear the individual approaching due to his impaired hearing. It was very bizarre to the ninja, but it wasn't frustrating to him. Perhaps this was due to his preference to keep a leveled-head. “Oh hey buddy. Didn’t see you there. I’ll just go this way instead.", the individual said as he moved to another direction. The ninja said nothing in response. The ninja completed his journey towards the armored individual and proceeded to give him a bow. Gilgamesh's armor reminded him of the Far East and it was perhaps the only reason that Keimusho talked to him. By the way his armor appeared the ninja guessed that he was a samurai of some kind. If the ninja went off of personality alone he would most likely have no interest in talking to him. "Greetings. Your armor reminds me of my homeland. Pray tell from where do you hail?", he asked the armored individual.
Just as Gilgamesh was about to blather on about how intense the heat was in Torensten, another person he didn't know stepped forward to bask in his resplendent presence. He even wished to know of his people! Now this is a guy with cultured tastes, the bumbling warrior proudly mused, like how a teacher might look upon the student that surpassed him in the ways of the sword.
"The name of my peoples cannot be spoken through common tongues!" Gilgamesh boasts with thunderous confidence, sweeping a hand dramatically to emphasize absolutely nothing of importance. "Masters are they, who hath perfected the arts of both battle and blade-smithing; twicefold their children split the heavens asunder!" That part was always the best to shout aloud, but considering the stakes up for grabs in the present moment, it was arguably more appropriate to pay the Ringmaster heed and absorb the rules of this festival. "Steel thy nerves, soldier of the shadows! Victory is all mine!"
Gilgamesh subdues his bombastic laughter behind a series of weird shivering movements in an off-beat attempt to keep quiet while demonstrating his signature bravado in full force. If this was what it meant to 'have your cake and eat it', then the strange sword collector would be glad to learn that this was a dessert clearly nobody wanted to partake of. Either that, or whatever Gilgamesh drank a few hours ago could have been spiked with something. Or it was heat stroke; the legendary Genji suit was many things, but 'well-ventilated' wasn't a part of that list.
Here's hoping he didn't pass out before the rules started getting explained in proper. Everlasting glory was fine and all, but not if you weren't conscious enough to enjoy the full benefits of it.
Based on the people present to serve as fellow competitors, their odds of demonstrating a competent performance were significantly higher than those of the arrogant warrior dunce. Even the gun-toting fellow could probably show him what for, despite the apparent cramping issues his leg seemed to suffer every now and then.
Then again, it wasn't really hard to outperform Gilgamesh. A clump of moss could do it.
When the man with the machine gun-blade had left to engage with other contestants, Caius smiled lightly as Keimusho approached. When he asked about Vordun though, Caius frowned lightly. "Dragons attacked Torensten some time ago" He revealed quietly. "It was a brutal massacre. I didn't know about it until recently" He admitted. He was still gutted about the whole thing and the fact he couldn't bring Vordun here. But it would just... Scare people. It would cause a serious problem if he brought Vordun here, with how big he was now. There was no hiding Vordun anymore. At least until Caius thought up a new plan. "Vordun is on standby elsewhere."
As Mu and Gilgamesh conversed, the competitors had finished filing in and the Ringmaster was ready to announce the rules.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I welcome you once again to the Festival of the Hunt! Collaborating with Torensten's ruling body, we hope to bring you plenty of entertainment and merriment on this glorious day! And now... It is officially time... For the MAIN... EVENT!
Competitors, listen closely. These are the rules as to how the Festival of the Hunt's main event will be organized.
- Competitors must sign up and give a name to be used by commentary, as well as for team assignment. You may give a description to be used as well if you wish. No sign-ups may be taken once the competition has started.
- We will be isolating and sealing off part of the city, where stores and residential areas will be unharmed. Contestants may not leave this area except in cases of emergency.
- Contestants will be assigned into teams of three, chosen at random. Should a team member be knocked out, they are eliminated from the competition and it is the job of their teammates to get them to safety before resuming competition. Failure to comply will result in the disqualification of the entire team. You cannot choose your own team.
- Monsters of different kinds from all across Serentestra will be released into the sealed area. Different monsters score different points per kill, the points of which will be tallied for each team at the end of the competition. Whichever team has the most points will be crowned the Champions of the Hunt!
- Combat pets and mounts may be used as they are considered part of the combatant. Anything that is human or human-like must be submitted as a separate contestant.
- Once teams have been chosen, you will be given a period to strategize with your team before the competition begins. You may work out a team name with your team once you have been assigned.
----
A team competition? That was interesting. Caius was used to working with others as part of the Dragonblades, but he couldn't help but wonder who he would be matched up with and against. He just hoped that whoever it was could pull their own weight.
Once names were given, the ringmaster would return to the podium.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN... THANK YOU FOR WAITING!" He cried. "Sign-ups have officially concluded, and we are ready to announce the teams!
Representing Team A..."
Caius saw the other gunblade toting man stand up as his name was called, but his name was foggy to him. It seemed he would not have time to speak to him today, as Caius was not announced alongside his lineup. He perked up as the announcement came for the next one though, just wanting to be announced so he could plan.
"Representing Team B... A man shrouded in mystique. No man knows his name, no man knows his game... But we have been given a name! Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you... THE MYSTERIOUS... MU!"
As the crowd finishes cheering, the Ringmaster continues his speech.
"AND HIS TAG TEAM PARTNER... He claims to be a great and illustrious warrior from another world, who has slain his foes one by one, no matter what man or beast gets in his way! He claims that many have lined up in his path and he has knocked them all down! HE IS... THE VOIDWALKER... GILGAMESH!"
As the crowd lights up and dies down, the final entrant for Team B is soon to come...
"And finally... THEIR TAG TEAM PARTNER... A mercenary known throughout Torensten as a Lich Slayer... LEADER OF THE RENOWNED DRAGONBLADES MERCENARY GUILD... THE DRAGONGLAIVE, CAIUS DRAGELION!"
The crowd cheers loudly and Caius quirks a brow. Dragonglaive? That was a first he had heard that one. He was curious if this man studied up on known warriors. Considering he had to recruit for a festival like this every year, he supposed it wasn't all that surprising. Quite the nickname though. He wouldn't have thought that one up himself.
With that, each team was given a camp to strategize in while the sealed area was finished being prepared. Once Team B's was designated, Caius headed to his camp to meet with Mu and that Gilgamesh guy. He was pretty sure he remembered him, sort of? Didn't he see him in the woods or something? He recognized the armour, at least... That part wasn't hard.
