In seconds, the voluminous white fog enveloped every contestant present, shrouding each from the view of his or her thirty-one competitors...and from the view of one surreptitious interloper. The sputtery hissing noise of the fog machines beneath the floor masked the farewells, catchphrases, and other such parting words uttered by those assembled, but cutting through all the noise came the sound of the Inquisitional College's bell—a single crystal-clear, shockingly loud chime. That sudden resonance galvanized the staff of the college into action, and just as they'd rehearsed, each shouted out a name to be drowned in the hubbub. Even if nobody could quite make out what they said, however, the lantern heard loud and clear, and all at once the employees hurled their lanterns at the feet of the contestants they stood behind. They burst apart with a bright flare, but more like that of a flashbang than a molotov, and the challengers were whisked away. A moment passed before the fog machines stopped and the air cleared to reveal nothing at all. Felicity, standing with her arms crossed on her high perch, felt it necessary to give a triumphant if not joyful smile. The Crucible was on.
The Lady in White
Location: Justice Hub@LazoWhen the fog cleared, the Inquisitional College was gone. A haze remained, but rather than the output of portable machines, it was the bleariness of a stormy night sky. Up above, the clouds swirled in hues of gray, black, and green, like titanic snakes writhing about. Pithy stood in the exact center of a helicopter pad, no doubt a platform foreign to her, which in itself rested on the roof of a tall building that could have been a citadel. Surrounded by a sprawling complex of various military facilities, from obstacle courses to barracks to depots to workshops, it gave of the austere and unwelcoming vibe of a highly secured facility not meant for the common man. From the woman's vantage point, a vast amount of the city was visible, including towering buildings and seemingly endless maze of streets. To the southwest, just beyond a high seawall, was a rocky shore followed by expansive ocean.
Something of perhaps more immediate concern were the intimidating constructs situated on each corner of the helipad. Bearing some superficial similarities to ballistae, they somehow moved on their own from side to side, but their outward angle kept Pithy out of the watch of their red eyes. After a few moments, a beeping noise came from one, and like a dog pointing toward its prey the machine moved itself to fire at a hitherto unnoticed figure in the sky. With a shriek, the dark, winged shape plummeted to the ground, and as if nothing had ever happened, the turret returned to its vigil. Somewhat hidden by the night, similar figures wheeled and dove through the air above and throughout the complex, and the manic flutter of their wings and talons indicated that they were not around to make conversation. They weren't alone, either. Within a minute of Pithy arriving, another flying shape had found and hovered a respectful distance away from her. It resembled the constructs in design, but rather than a red eye, it boasted a purple one. Its undercarriage also bore a wooden box, oddly out of place with the rest of it.
As the woman watched, a light shone out from it, creating a purple rectangle in the air that displayed an image on its face: the head of a young man with slicked-back, platinum-blonde hair, purple-rimmed glasses, and eyes that looked closed. Plastered on his face was a cheesy smile, and as he moved his mouth, sound began to emanate from the flying machine. “Hey, hey, hey! Looks like the ole maid finally got this party started! Well, hi there Miss In White and welcome to the Justice Hub! Unfortunately, it's not 'just us' here, if ya catch my drift! Neheheh! Those turrets will light you up if ya strut around like ya own the place, so just keep your 'cool' and find a n-'ice', stealthy way down, heh. Your opponent's not far off. You're definitely 'gun'-na hear her before ya see her. Watch out for the bats!” With a final chuckle, the face disappeared, but the drone remained to observe and record.
Opponent: Trickshot Jo'With a shriek, the wind rushed out the open window, carrying the fog with it. In its wake, it left Juniper, standing alone at the back of a high school classroom. Various writing and personal implements lay scattered across the desks, and the whiteboard at the class's front was half-full of mathematical scribblings, but there was nobody in sight, and the light of a stormy sky gave the place a moody atmosphere. If the shrine maiden peered out the window, however, something most unusual indeed awaited her.
For a place in a supposedly abandoned city, the vast inner courtyard of the School was replete with people. Small groups of them milled about the place, stretched out on the grass, seated at a table, or meandering around the pathways. A ring had formed around a couple of them, who were trading blows, but other than that it was an oddly peaceful scene. A closer look, however, revealed something off. None of the people had any skin showing; all wore drab, dark clothes, mostly jeans and hoodies. Beneath their hoods and baseball caps, no distinctive features could be seen except for a pair of red dot eyes.
A second look at the whiteboard at the front of the room, perhaps on the way out of the class, would lead to the discovery of a message written in purple:
you are in the School, uptown's premier place of learning. Hit the books, find your opponent, and unless you fancy a scrape or two, steer clear of the anons. No matter how mindless they act or look, they're cunning and mean. Don't judge a book by its cover!The door was unlocked, as every door in the School would be. Behind one of them, the first step on the road to Juniper's wish lay.
Opponent: The Crimson CavalierThe Fungal Knight
Location: Amusement Mile@BananaRather than drabness, the absence of the transitive miss meant a shower of color and activity for a certain mushroom-afflicted skeleton. He found himself in the middle of some kind of boardwalk amusement park, standing between a hot dog cart and the Ferris wheel. Not one but two roller coasters snaked through the region, and were it not for the absolute lack of people, Bonesword might have found himself interjected into a carnival full of people having the time of their lives. Now, however, it seemed more like a ghost town, robbed of its liveliness and charm. The creak of boards underfoot, and the whistle of wind through the supports and arms of unused rides, did not alleviate this impression. Then again, what did a skeleton have to fear of spooks?
“Hallo down there!”
Floating above Bonesword was a drone, held aloft by four sizable fans, and obviously equipped with a microphone. A module projected the image of a pale man with an annoyingly snide smile directly downward. Clutched beneath its frame was a little wooden box. As foreign as these concepts would be to a medieval monster, the owner of the voice projected through the machine wasted no time launching into explanation. “Aww, you got to start in the Amusement Mile? Lucky! All I got was 'mile'-d annoyance. Anyhoo, there's a big fella who's got a bone to pick with ya somewhere in this place, and last I checked, my D&D guide says skelebones don't like big, blunt objects. Still, I think you'll like him, he's a fun guy. Hah, get it? Like 'fungi'? Ahem...by the way, I've got an item in this box for the winner, so go get 'em, champ!”
The image dissolved and the drone zipped away, headed inward toward the city.
Opponent: Big BigDark, damp, dank—the vanishing of the fog left only stifling dereliction behind. The smell alone would serve to inform the demon that he'd been placed in a sewer, albeit not one of the channels. Before him, barely outlined in the awful light, lay a ladder up to an open manhole. Emerging from the underground, akin to emerging from some primordial cave for the first time, would deposit Smiley introduce Smiley to the City of Echoes' immense, awesome main street, as full of trash and cars as the day their occupants had disappeared. Buildings lay on every side, reaching toward the skies like mountains of concretes and steel, and the six-lane avenue sported shops of every kind.
He was not, though, the only creature to crawl across the street's surface. Putting aside the drone, which hovered impersonally a ways off, Main Street harbored an excessive population of the shambling, groaning corpses that could only be called zombies. At the moment none had noticed Smiley, but even if they did, would the undead even charge his way to attack? Among them now stood a true monster, ready to begin his hunt for his first opponent.
Opponent: Fin, the CopQueen of Terror
Location: Hidden Settlement@LmpkioAt first, the place the lantern deposited Ghidorah could only seem strange for one informed that she'd be fighting in a city. A collection of cabins, campfires, and other such in the woods, after all, did not even make for a half-decent hamlet. While the fog receded around her, it remained as a permanent fixture around the little settlement, obscuring the peaks of the tall, dark trees that lay in every direction. An electric eye watched Ghidorah with discretion, hidden among the trees. The one who occasionally flicked to its feed to see if something interesting was happening knew of the logging station that never appeared far from the camp grounds, and that the draconian's first foe had been sent there, but the Queen of Terror would have to figure it out for herself. Oren did not fancy getting one of his new toys trashed trying to vaguely hint at the mysterious goings-on in the Hidden Settlement; in fact, he fully expected the single-minded monster to torch the whole place trying to flush out her enemy. If she proved him right, Oren felt sure that the sniper would be the least of Ghidorah's concerns.
Opponent: FranIn an instant, the death seeker was warped through the gate of fog. First, she felt the squish of sand beneath her feet; second, she smelt the salt in the air. By that time, the brisk seaside breeze had torn down her veil of mist, and before Saria stretched the sea. Behind her lay the beach, still outfitted with soaked, dirty towels and umbrellas, and behind that the road of the Port District. Ahead, however, lay things far more interesting.
Not far from where the steady, lapping tide broke against the sand, two structures rose above the waves. One bore the outline of a ship, dashed against rocks or coral and half underwater, its rusted sides growing thinner by the day. Sealife adorned it, if the eyes of the Blood Devil could peer that far. Less identifiable, however, was the strange outcropping that loomed in the opposite direction. Bearing angles that no human could describe even from a couple feet away, let alone hundreds, it stuck out of the ocean like a cancerous growth. Above all, its bizarre, unfathomable shape and surface screamed of something lost and forbidden, something not meant for the world.
After a few moments, the drone suspended in the air a couple maters above and behind Saria turned away, and through it came a cheery voice rendered uneasy by the odd thing its owner just witnessed. “Um, hello, hello! I 'sea' you've made it to the Shoreline. Nice place, but unfortunately, you're not here for sight'sea'ing, am I right? Unfortunately, your first-round opponent is on that baffling wedge out there. Even worse, it's a place that suits her perfectly—what some of the College doofuses call an 'echo'. There's a rowboat down over there,” the drone's little arm waved down the beach, “but I'd recommend waiting until she comes out to getcha. I know ya wanna die, but dying to weird angles in the floor won't be much of a way to go! Beat her, and I've got a reward.” The drone moved upward, revealing a box held beneath its frame. It lapsed into silence, seemingly content to watch and see how the encounter played out.
Opponent: Rose CythlaThe Sentinel
Location: Great Lake@SentelWith a loud clunk, the mech settled on the new terrain suddenly interjected underfoot, and as the fog faded away, the two-inch distance between the machine's right foot an the edge of a lake would become apparent. In a few moments, only the tumultuous night remained. On one side, rolling meadows stretched for quite a ways, with an unidentifiable structure in the distance. On the other, the lake, with a mirror-smooth surface, lay quiet, gloomy, and chilling. Keen eyes could just make out that the land on the other side sloped upward, and if Ryan strained to hear she might catch the dim sound of a waterfall emanating from that direction. With long sight lines in every direction, and no movement to speak of, it was an oddly tranquil spot.
“Hi there!”
The loud voice emanated from a drone only inches above the mech, and after the very sudden greeting came a burst of laughter. “Neheheheheh! Don't shoot! Don't shoot!” With remarkable speed, no doubt thanks to the mech's very large guns, the derision changed into a plea. “It was just a joke! I'm here to help! Look, your opponent's at that waterfall right now. If you beat him, I've got a present for ya! Okaybye!” The drone shot away into the sky, not eager to be within the Sentinel's effective range.
Opponent: RiffInari's feet touched metal, and like water spilling from a tank the fog tumbled away from her, and just like that she was atop a great metal structure situated on an expanse of dirt smack dab in the middle of the city. In every direction, beyond the edge of the Industrial District, the streets, apartment buildings, and skyscrapers of the Downtown East Side were arrayed in all their enormous, overbearing splendor. A few feet before her, a rail guarded the edge of a hundred-foot drop; to Inari's left a set of stairs lead upward, and behind her a door stood ajar. Industrial yellow light shone from within, helping to illuminate a building completely dedicated to function over form. In fact, the whole Fuel Plant could readily called 'ugly' by anyone with aesthetic sense, given its garish browns, yellows, and oranges, as well as all the exposed pipes and things.
Up from behind the railing popped a mechanical device that appeared to fly using the propulsion of four fans. Beneath it was strung a box, but most striking was its single purple eye staring right at the kitsune before it. Dutifully, a holographic screen popped up, and the bespectacled young man that appeared on its screen sent a merry grin Inari's way. “Good evening! My name is Oren, and I will be your tour guide for this Crucible. Let me just say, I'm super hyped for your fight. Might be a bit of a chore finding him in this place, what with all the confusing industrial architecture and whatnot, but don't worry! It'll be worth the wait. Plus, whoever wins gets a rad item. I guess you could say you're a 'fur'-tunate girl! Neheheheh!” The drone began to spin and rise at the same time, making a kooky exit.
Opponent: BrucieGaben's Chosen
Location: Governance Hub@HostileAside from the frenetic dance of the clouds far above, nothing stood out about the street where Mountain Dew appeared; it was exceptional only for its general level of cleanliness compared to the typical inner-city roadway. The buildings that lined it shared the sort of architectural grandiosity that befit federal structures or banks. Even the corner stores reeked of officiousness. In the Governance Hub, everything was regulated within an inch of perfection—or so the people in charge of the city before its fall would say. Now, for all its pomp, this boulevard was as desolate as the trashiest alleyway in the Commercial District.
Of course, the history and societal implications of a certain area mattered little, if at all, to a competitor on the hunt for souls. As he began to move, a large screen set up on the side of a building blinked to life. On it, the upper half of a man in
ostentatious garb, complete with purple-rimmed glasses and an permanent smile appeared, and without further ado he launched into speech. “Hey there, hot shot! Welcome to my neck of the woods! I'd invite ya in, but I've got...uh...important stuff to 'dew'. So, 'dew' take a stroll and keep an eye peeled for your first-round opponent. I already told her that there's a special item in the fountain in front of City Hall. Better get going! Fulfill your 'dew'ty! Neheheh, it keeps getting funnier every time!” With a smirk, the announcer pressed a button, and the big screen went dark.
Opponent: The Enchanting OozeCaptain K. Runch
Location: Holy Grounds@ProproWhen the fog surrounded the Cereal Killer, everything went black, and even as he felt the air grew clearer, the darkness remained. Beneath his feet, the College's tile had been replaced by roughly cut stone. A few moments passed before a crack of light appeared off to his left, slowly growing bigger. In the middle of the opening shone a purple eye, and after a moment, the drone's arm opened the door completely and beckoned to the pirate to follow. “Over here!” An upbeat voice resounded from the machine before it flew out of sight.
Once out of the dark, musty corridor and into the open, Runch would discover that he'd appeared in some sort of ruins. In every direction, various temples and churches lay in various states of destruction; some looked perfectly alright, while others could barely be recognized as structures at all. The instant that Runch exited the hall, the drone's eye fixed upon him, and after a few seconds' worth of time for the pirate to look around, the machine projected a screen. Upon it was the face of some guy, jovial and a little weird, and he raised his hands in theatrical fashion to declare, “Welcome to the Holy Grounds, the City of Echoes' very own epicenter of religious history! Lemme tell ya, there's some stuff here that'll knock ya flat on your back, but I've got something here a little more pertinent right now. 'Chex' it out!” The whir of the drone's fans intensified and it ascended a few feet, displaying a box attached to its underside. “Not buried, I'm afraid, but it's treasure alright! Fit for the winner of a 1v1. So tell me: 'arr' you ready to fight your first battle? Make it happen, Cap'n!”
Opponent: The BashibozukTrees, trees, and more trees in every direction, swathed in twilight—the Whispering Wood awaited Sister Sophia as the mist around her drifted away. Far above, the heavens churned like a cauldron full of a witch's nebulous brew, but to a flier like Seraphim, one landmark dominated the landscape between the sea of trees and the surly sky. Known as the Forest King, the immense oak towered above the woods, but even at this distance an observer could make out blotches of pale yellow along its trunk and branches were none should be. A blur could also be spotted in the distance, making a beeline for the infested giant.
After a little while, a most distracting noise emanating from inside Seraphim's armor. “Hey! I'm getting interference, ya mind pulling me out?”
When extracted, the phylactery showed a glow from inside the little compartment in its middle. It blinked in time to the sound it gave off, evidencing some kind of radio-esque device implanted within the heart. “So! This is embarrassing. I'm the announcer for this whole shindig, so welcome to the tournament and all that jazz. I went to go say hi to Clotho first, but she wrecked my drone and stole the item I was supposed to give the winner of your fight! Talk about an 'ant'sy competitor. ...Meh, I can do better than that. Anyway, that tree over there's gotten overwritten by her echo, so you can bet she'll be there. By the way, a little secret: there's a supply cache not far from here, hidden around the bottom of a boulder you should be able to see from above. Should be more than enough to show that pesky bug what-for!” With that, the phylactery went dark.
Opponent: Slipstream Swarm QueenWhen the fog turned to darkness, an oddly familiar feeling set in for the Apex Hunter. When his eyes adjusted him, the sight that greeted him was that of his old stomping grounds, the sandy catacomb tunnels he called home. Whether or not this revelation puzzled him, something entirely different waited for him should he find his way to the surface.
Instead of a desert or wasteland, a town lay above his tomb. Full of buildings from an extravagant variety of historical architectures, Oldtown was a place lost to time. Up there, searching through the buildings for her opponent, was the woman matched against Actaeon, and following her from a distance was the all-seeing drone with its special item held tight.
Opponent: The Itinerant ExorcistThe shroud slipped away, and Dante stood in the middle of a cemetery. Though not far from a structure that looked for all intents and purposes like an amphitheater, it was ringed on all sides by grass, and in most directions the grass went on and on. Of all places, the Angel wound up in a lonely little spot on a prairie. Somber and still, it lacked even the wind to stir the grass and whistle through the elaborate tombstones; only the stormy night sky broke the mold.
A little looking around would turn up a surveillance machine sitting on a the graveyard's sole mausoleum. Its purple eye observed Dante constantly, and when the time felt right, it intoned in a synthesized voice, “Good evening. I'm the tournament's announcer. You've come to the Culture Center in the Grassy Expanse. It's a pretty 'grave' spot as far as the City of Echoes goes. Not a whole lot to do. Some of the people at the college talked about ghosts, but I haven't seen anything, not to be 'mean-spirited' or anything. As for the matter of your opponent...well, that's tricky. Some knucklehead made an error with the bracket, so the only option for you is fighting the winner of a match about to get started in the amphitheater here. More like am-'fight'-threater, am I right? Er...you can watch if you like. Or, you can take a look in this mausoleum. Maybe something interesting's down there after all. Well, be seein' ya!” With that, the drone's fans kicked into action, sending it up and toward the nearby building.
A cool breeze washed the veil away, leaving Captain Teller standing on a bridge overlooking a river. On one side, a dingy city street extended into a labyrinth of its fellows, but on the other, an entirely different subsection of town was sprawled. Injected into the heart of the City of Echoes, the man stood on the precipice of the Village, a cozy little nook in a metropolis otherwise crammed and claustrophobic. Just across from the bridge lay one lit-up building in a town of dark windows and locked doors: Slow Dancer's, a bar. No rain fell, even if the dark, overcast sky seemed ready to burst at any minute, yet an odd haze surrounded the bar. It moved slowly but steadily, like a weak offshore whirlpool, spinning and spinning but never getting anywhere. Beyond this haze, the unmistakable silhouettes of people walking around inside the bar filtered through the windows. Music permeated it too, sending out soft, smooth notes of jazz into the night.
Inside the joint, seated at the famous counter, the Drunken Sorcerer was already having his fill. On his left, one of the College's surveillance drones perched precariously atop a stool, his message already concluded. A wooden box sat on the counter, not unlike a briefcase full of cache placed between two mobsters cutting a deal. Within Slow Dancer's the atmosphere was thick and heavy, but merry, as though one could forget all one's worries here and take everything easy.
Opponent: the Drunken WarlockWhat began as fog around two of the individuals departing the Inquisitional College turned to sand, whipping at their skin but receding an instant later. With it gone, both could see that they'd ended up in some sort of ruined building. Moreover, they could see that they weren't alone. The ruins were full of robots, just a moment ago relaxing or chatting, and not staring straight at the newcomers who'd so suddenly appeared. In terms of appearance, the robots resembled something out a a steampunk setting, with bronze exteriors and exposed gears and mechanisms aplenty. None wore clothes, but each sported a unique design. Some, clearly alarmed, has stood up or stepped back when confronted by the two arrivals. For the moment, nothing happened, but the silence was tense.
Outside the ruins was a field of machines. Pumps, grinders, miniature factories, and all sorts of other amazing technology operated on their own, though stymied by their varying states of neglect. An enormous sort of drill mechanism stood out from the rest, suspended by enormous hydraulic arms over a great pit in the ground that only it could have dug.
These observations only served to preclude one far more important, however. About half a minute after the competitors arrived, a drone floated over the top of a giant saw north of the ruins, and in a second its piercing purple eye took in both Angry Dragon and Garbage. Its gaze rested on the latter. “Who are you?” the voice of a young man asked, before a holographic screen appeared from the drone's projector to show his face to the two competitors. “I don't recognize you on my list. Neheh...someone must have forgotten to give me a memo...” Were he not already squinting out of habit, he might have narrowed his eyes. “Whatever. It looks like you two have had the misfortune to be placed within a hundred meters of one another. That means no exploring, no looting, just straight to the heart of the matter. The Crucible's first-ever match is about to get underway!”
The robots, though understanding the situation even less than the competitors, recognized the imminent fight and started to clear away. They formed a loose perimeter around their home, eyeing the newcomers and the drone warily, but saying nothing.
With its one arm, the drone patted a box attached to its undercarriage. “And to the victor go the spoils. Ready, you two? ...Go!”
