Prologue (Click to Show)
[Spoiler=wRHG 01: The Hunter and the Bird (Farukon vs. Serif).]
The Hunter and the Bird, Percy’s Unforgettable First Duel (Farukon vs. Serif)
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Sunday, July 09, 2017 at 8:10 a.m. Vague City’s JazzBerry Café.
It was a good Sunday morning, good for a cup of tea, and good for a battle. Farukon had been notified a week ago that he was scheduled to fight in the RHG arena today, so he had come to the JazzBerry Café for a cup of hot tea to relax his mind and satisfy his taste buds before the matches began. He sat alone at a table for two in the corner of the café. Though he was only scheduled to fight in the arena for a sparring match, it would still be Farukon’s first RHG battle. Farukon was slightly nervous, but still had utmost confidence in his fighting abilities. He came to the café in his usual light gray suit and tie, expecting nothing unusual to happen until the fights were to start. Though, in Percy’s life, nothing is as it seems.
“Man, this new café really has good tea.” Percy thought to himself.
“Mind if I take a seat?” Farukon had turned around to meet a man that looked to be in his early forties with brown hair and a short beard. He wore a white button-up shirt with light blue stripes and a red tie. He had his right hand looking for something in a pocket in his beige slacks. Eventually, he pulled out a business card with all of his information, and gave it to Farukon. It read, “Eric Daas Dyson, Assistant Manager of the RHG in Vague City.” Percy had been stunned to see one of the heads of the RHG ask to sit with him, so it took him a short while to snap out of his trance.
“Oh, I wasn’t really expecting anyone, especially not anyone so important like yourself, but please do.” was Percy’s reply.
“Ahh, thank you. I know, I’m pretty great. Now, you must be wondering why I came to sit here with you, right?”
“Well, I am a gladiator, so you must be here regarding my battle today. The only question I have is how you found me here.”
“Well, you were right, but as for how I found you, well, let’s just say… we people at the RHG have our ways of finding things out. Can’t really tell ya the details if ya know what I mean. It’s classified.” Eric said. “So, are you excited for your match today?”
“Of course, it will be my big debut, how can I not be?”
“Great! That’s the kind of stuff I like to hear! What can stop you from winning? What stands in your way to spill the blood of your enemies all over the arena?”
“Wha-”
“Nothing! Now that’s the thing, you may have been scheduled for a sparring match in the arena, but killing in the arena is definitely approved you know.”
“What? Why are you telling me this?” At this, Eric had looked around him, and started to speak in a quiet voice.
“Look bucko, you’re fighting off against Serif Winters today, that’s the one thing I can tell you. I’m only telling you this because, well, let’s just say that there will be a cash reward, a big one too, but only if you kill him. Heck, I’ll even throw in a buffet on me at any place ya want. I don’t care how much food ya get or how big the bill is, just as long as you kill the damn guy. I’ll make you the Tom Cruise of the RHG world.” Eric glanced at his watch. “Hey, look, I don’t have much time left to stick around, but just remember, everything that I said, it’ll be all yours if you just kill him.” Eric got up and pulled out his wallet. He took out a Benjamin Franklin and handed it to the waitress on his left and took the cup of coffee off of the tray she was about to deliver to another table and walked out.
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July 09, 2017 at 10:14 a.m. Cloudfell City’s Cloudfell Arena.
It was battle time in the arena. Farukon had sat patiently on a sofa in the fighter’s lobby, watching all of the competitors in today’s matches. The duel between Azarel Zen and Piasu had just finished when the TV screen read, “Percius R. Farukon and Serif Winters Next.” Something was off, the audience didn’t seem as excited with this match when compared to previous battles. They were fairly quiet with only few people clapping and yelling. There were also a few boos in the crowd, which surprised Farukon. Sure there were some people that were cheering, but most of the ones who were almost immediately shut up, probably to prevent themselves from standing out. Since this would be Percy’s debut, it couldn’t be because of him, so he wondered if the community disliked his opponent, and he pondered to what extent. This “Serif” person was indeed a mystery to Farukon.
“And now, the next battle shall commence!” announced the commentator. “Today folks, we'll be seeing a battle between the Hero of New Salem and the Sky Guardian! Yes folks, we will be presented with a battle between Serif Winters himself and Percy Farukon! Percy may be a little new to the RHG community, but I don’t think that means Serif will have any mercy on the newcomer. But based on Farukon’s profile, I think he has the edge.” At this, a few of the crowd had started applauding and screaming, which puzzled Farukon even more.
“WOOHOO!” they would scream, which made kind of Farukon a little happy in a way, but he was still confused.
“I wonder who the Serif guy is, and why he isn’t quite loved by the people” he thought, but his time for thinking was cut short as Farukon was interrupted by a guard who worked for the RHG.
“Hey, are you ready?” the guard said in a low voice. He was obviously a baritone.
“Heck yeah I am.”
“Good, this way.” He led Percius to a hallway dark that led to an iron door at the end. When he opened it, the bright and blinding light from the arena had lit up the hall. The guard gestured his hand for Farukon to step out, so Percy did as the man instructed.
Bam! The guard had slammed the door behind Farukon.
“And our challenger has arrived! Yes folks, the Guardian of the Skies has arrived!” the commentator remarked. Many started screaming and applauding.
“Get off of me you punks!” came a yell. Farukon turned to the direction the shout came from, and was met with a bald man that looked to be in either his late twenties or early thirties. He was being held by two other tough-looking men. The man’s blue icey eyes couldn’t describe the fiery rage that was obviously building up inside of the man. He had some galaxy tattoo on his face, which was a vivid masterpiece of a tattoo, even to Farukon, who found the thought of getting a tattoo to be wrong.
This man’s clothes were very out of the ordinary, out of the ordinary for a gladiator anyway. It looked somewhat old-fashioned, but it was the closest thing to normal he’s probably ever seen in an arena meant for mages and beasts alike. It was just a sleeveless unbuttoned leather jacket with a white cloth shirt underneath with pants made out of fur-like material. He also wore some white fingerless gloves. In terms of appearance, the thing that stood out to Farukon the most other than his tattoo must have been a strange necklace he wore. It held an orange, blue, and white stone in the shape of a tear. Living in a world of warlocks and wizards, Farukon assumed that that necklace held some sort of magical property. Only time could tell him what it’s purpose was, for to Farukon, all things served a purpose, and as of right now, his purpose was to make sure that this ‘Serif’ figure was to lose.
“And it appears our, other, contestant has arrived. Please give a warm welcome to the ‘Hero’ of New Salem!” said the commentator, who seemed very apathetic. At that comment, the two guards restraining Serif let go and walked to the door they came out of. “Now, I deem this match open. Contestants, it’s now time… FIGHT!”
“Let’s just get this thing over with. Shouldn’t be hard since I’m up against some newbie.” said Serif, who was stal