06-12-2017, 01:21 AM
General Boar, head of the Boar-Pit gang, sits upon his throne of bricks, overlooking a deep, roughly circular hole in the ground. He chuckled as a sum of ten bodies clobbered and tossed each other about. The pit was full of his gang, unarmed in leather armor, for the daily hour-long brawl.
"Alright boys, thirty minutes down, thirty to go! Remember, winner today gets to pick the hunting party for the entire week!" A wave of cheers rose from the brawlers and their efforts intensified. This was not a one-time thing. Ten minutes from then, he would shout the same message and they would burst into new life. Ten more minutes, this would happen again. Then again at five minutes.
Not everyone made it to the end. Some would fall unconscious, others would tap out and crawl to the edge of the pit, and still some would fall from sheer exhaustion. The numbers of knockouts grew fewer and fewer by the week. General Boar's training made sure of that.
The pit was a wondrous idea for training, and it was sad to say it was not Boar's own. The idea was so grand, he itched to join in. Sadly though, the twelve-foot Dire Were-boar was... a bit overwhelming against the much smaller members of the gang. "Twenty minutes till the winner lines you lot up!" He snorted, the thick steel ring in his pig-like nose shifting under his breath.
His thick fingers dig into the brick chair, the kilned clay crumbling under his strength. How he itched to join in! Soon, though... Very soon. "Ten minutes!" His lips curled to a grin. General Boar stood, approaching the edge of the ring. His massive hands rest on his hips as he enjoys the glorious show.
"Five minutes!" The energy of the remaining combatants either doubled... or dropped. Many fought with all their might, but he counted five that simply raised their hands and wove their way to the edge of the pit. They knew they could not come out on top.
"One minute!" The general snorted again, his cloven foot digging into the soft earth around the pit. He counted down aloud, watching as energy either skyrocketed, or waned. Two more gave in. "Three... Two... O--"
"GENERAL!"
"Hrrm?" His gaze lifted from the three men still fighting, turning towards the rather large young man rushing his way. His brow furrowed and his eyes widened at the sight. He pulled a corpse in each hand. "WHAT?! JORIC! What happened?!"
The pit was forgotten. He did not even notice the three fighters groaning as he stormed towards the rotund fighter. "General, I regret to inform you that a new Prime has..." He stopped when General Boar held a hand up to silence him.
"You three were supposed to be an unstoppable team... Is that not what you THREE agreed to?"
"Y-yessir, but--"
"But?"
"But... Ban charged in before me... and the Prime blindsided Leo..." General Boar looked very displeased as he peered down to the bodies.
Suddenly, his nose twitched and he recoiled in near agony. "In all of Camelot, that is a foul stench!"
"That... that would be Ban..."
"Take them away, immediately! And prepare a pyre for their funeral!" With that stench, he imagined their pyre would be something horrid to behold for his sensitive nose.
"Yes sir... One more thing..."
"Make it quick." A massive hand was clinched tightly over his nose, but with its odd shape it was truly difficult to close. "You know what this is doing to me."
"Yes sir... well... Deon is tracking the Prime. He said he will contact us as soon as he's found him. Only..."
"Only what?"
"I think the Prime has joined Dante's Abyss... which means--"
"FUCK. We can't get to him..." The were-boar snorted. "I suppose that just means we have more time to prepare..." His grin returned. Without another word to Joric, the giant turns to face the pit. "Alright, all those standing, line up! Time for the final test!"
"Alright boys, thirty minutes down, thirty to go! Remember, winner today gets to pick the hunting party for the entire week!" A wave of cheers rose from the brawlers and their efforts intensified. This was not a one-time thing. Ten minutes from then, he would shout the same message and they would burst into new life. Ten more minutes, this would happen again. Then again at five minutes.
Not everyone made it to the end. Some would fall unconscious, others would tap out and crawl to the edge of the pit, and still some would fall from sheer exhaustion. The numbers of knockouts grew fewer and fewer by the week. General Boar's training made sure of that.
The pit was a wondrous idea for training, and it was sad to say it was not Boar's own. The idea was so grand, he itched to join in. Sadly though, the twelve-foot Dire Were-boar was... a bit overwhelming against the much smaller members of the gang. "Twenty minutes till the winner lines you lot up!" He snorted, the thick steel ring in his pig-like nose shifting under his breath.
His thick fingers dig into the brick chair, the kilned clay crumbling under his strength. How he itched to join in! Soon, though... Very soon. "Ten minutes!" His lips curled to a grin. General Boar stood, approaching the edge of the ring. His massive hands rest on his hips as he enjoys the glorious show.
"Five minutes!" The energy of the remaining combatants either doubled... or dropped. Many fought with all their might, but he counted five that simply raised their hands and wove their way to the edge of the pit. They knew they could not come out on top.
"One minute!" The general snorted again, his cloven foot digging into the soft earth around the pit. He counted down aloud, watching as energy either skyrocketed, or waned. Two more gave in. "Three... Two... O--"
"GENERAL!"
"Hrrm?" His gaze lifted from the three men still fighting, turning towards the rather large young man rushing his way. His brow furrowed and his eyes widened at the sight. He pulled a corpse in each hand. "WHAT?! JORIC! What happened?!"
The pit was forgotten. He did not even notice the three fighters groaning as he stormed towards the rotund fighter. "General, I regret to inform you that a new Prime has..." He stopped when General Boar held a hand up to silence him.
"You three were supposed to be an unstoppable team... Is that not what you THREE agreed to?"
"Y-yessir, but--"
"But?"
"But... Ban charged in before me... and the Prime blindsided Leo..." General Boar looked very displeased as he peered down to the bodies.
Suddenly, his nose twitched and he recoiled in near agony. "In all of Camelot, that is a foul stench!"
"That... that would be Ban..."
"Take them away, immediately! And prepare a pyre for their funeral!" With that stench, he imagined their pyre would be something horrid to behold for his sensitive nose.
"Yes sir... One more thing..."
"Make it quick." A massive hand was clinched tightly over his nose, but with its odd shape it was truly difficult to close. "You know what this is doing to me."
"Yes sir... well... Deon is tracking the Prime. He said he will contact us as soon as he's found him. Only..."
"Only what?"
"I think the Prime has joined Dante's Abyss... which means--"
"FUCK. We can't get to him..." The were-boar snorted. "I suppose that just means we have more time to prepare..." His grin returned. Without another word to Joric, the giant turns to face the pit. "Alright, all those standing, line up! Time for the final test!"