Stahl was getting pretty bored waiting for the games to begin. She had sized up most of her competition already, and didn't find anyone too worrisome save for a handful of big house names.
The pairings were random, but a bad match-up early on was costly. The Selection happened once every year in Alora, at the beginning of spring. Any warrior from age twenty to twenty four was eligible to participate, regardless of their upbringing, for a total of 5 maximum chances to pass the Selection in a lifetime.
Stahl was twenty two, twenty three in the summer. If she failed this year, she would only have two more chances. This wasn't, however, because she had failed before. This was her first time attempting the process. She enlisted into the army at twenty, and served two years beforehand.
What had made her try for the Elite Guard this time around was simple. She was worried about her father, who was nearly on his 60th year, and wanted more time at home with her family. The Guard was an easy way to make sure she would stay stationed in the capitol.
Shortly after the sound of thunder echoed through the stadium, signaling that the time was growing near, Stahl's attention was snagged by a very peculiar looking entry heading towards the seating.
There weren't any dress restrictions for competing in the Selection, but nobody in their right mind would attempt it with anything on that could restrict their movements... Certainly not crazy enough to fight in whatever exactly this particular entrant was wearing.
For starters, he was small. The average beastman height was around 7 feet. Stahl herself was 7 foot 6. The creature before her was a hair under 6 feet. Even more astounding was the daunting wardrobe. The creature's entire upper body and arms were covered with a cloth wrap, small bits of fur stuck out of certain spots where the bandages met, giving the wardrobe a lumpy and prickly appearance.
The entrant had on basic tan trousers, but also had on leather boots. Most beastmen fought barefooted, as their paws were suited to it, and for balancing during a fight. Boots were mainly used by workers under certain conditions that called for them.
As if that made little enough sense, the whole cherry on top was whatever the weird helm was supposed to be. It looked almost like some kind of long skull, like that of a horse, but the wrap extended over it, seemingly to secure it in place.
The creature's eyes remained hidden behind their mask, just as any visible part of their body was also hidden behind the wrap, save for the extruding tufts of fur scattered about. The guy looked absolutely ridiculous to the she-wolf, and pretty much everyone else who had noticed the peculiar entry.
All Stahl could assume at this point was it was some kind of mangled rodent under there. It would explain the bandages and the height.
The beast walked towards the participant seating and veered to the left, choosing a spot only a few feet away from the she-wolf. Seemed the weirdo was a loner too.
`Big surprise,' The young she-wolf thought to herself. Still, her curiosity was getting the better of her. Whatever the thing was supposed to be, Stahl found herself quite affixed on the warrior, and an odd curiosity towards it.
The stadium was packed by now, the murmuring of individuals grew to become a colossal sea of voices that carried a low rumble over the arena. The entry period was closed, and final preparations were under way.
The crowd and fighters were growing restless, however, all fell silent as the mages began their groundwork for kicking off the event. A circle of clouds began forming over the arena, it grew in size until all of the seating areas were cloaked in a heavy shade.
The center of the arena remained bright, and illuminated by the sunlight through the hole in the clouds. Two mages on either side of the king's platform released bolts of light, striking the runes engraved into the marble walls, which in turn lit up, signaling the magic was functioning.
King Alocer stood from his seat, and took a few paces forward before his thunderous voice, amplified by the runes, bellowed into the arena.
"Welcome, guests, spectators, and of course our participants, to this year's Selection."
The crowd roared in response, (quite literally,) before the king continued. "As you all know, our purpose here today is to determine the most worthy of warriors to join my own Elite King's Guard. We have well over 400 brave soldiers vying for a place at the top this year, but as you all know, only around 20 will make it through. The rules are simple, using a random pairing system, each warrior is assigned to a match. A warrior may advance as long as they win, and are even allowed a single loss to offset any unfair advantages the pairings may bring, However, if an entrant loses a second match, they are disqualified and will be removed from the tournament. The first two preliminary rounds will take place today, four separate one-on-one battles at the same time. We will pick back up with round three tomorrow when things start to get interesting. When the number of participants is estimated to drop below a certain percentage remaining, the battles will halt at the end of the current round. The final two rounds will be held the following morning to determine our top 20 or so victors." The lion took a breath while the crowd surged. A moments later, he picked back up.
"The rules are as follows: 1. Weapons chosen to be used shall be enchanted with a bluntness spell to prevent inflicting fatal blows with them. If you kill your opponent through any means, you will be banned from participating ever again, and likely tried for murder depending on the circumstances. 2. You win your match by knocking your opponent unconscious, throwing them off of the ring platform, forcing them to yield, or by scoring a certain amount of points on them by landing attacks. 3. Any attacks using anima magic will result in your disqualification for that round. The utilization of bloodskills are allowed, but limited to once per match. 4. If a contestant is found to be receiving fighting aid from anyone in any form during their match, they will be immediately disqualified and removed. 5. In the result of a tie, it will count as a loss for whichever fighter was ranked higher at the time, and a win for the lower ranked."
King Alocer raised his hands high, and spoke the final part with heavy enthusiasm, "And with that, let's get this year's Selection underway!" The crowd erupted into a frenzied cheer as the King took his seat, and the much anticipated event officially kicked off.
Stahl was disappointed in her first match. She went up against a boar that didn't have an ounce of balance or grace in his entire body, and swiftly made her points, securing the win and returning to her seat within two minutes. The young she-wolf wasn't complaining, but she wanted to have some kind of fun the first round. She didn't even have to really try at all...
"Levice Ripscas. Mortum Ambula."
The weird creature a few feet away from Stahl stood after the judge called out the names. Apparently, this guy was either Levice, or Mortum. Stahl found herself watching curiously as the odd thing was met on the stage by a lizard.
The lizard only had a few inches height advantage on the weird one, but this would probably be the best matchup the little guy would be getting as far as weight went. While the lizard was armed with a dual-faced axe, the other beast only came into battle with a simple, plain, metal rod.
No pointy ends on it. No style, engravings, or design to the thing. Just... A metal stick. Stahl grunted, annoyed by her expectations shattering. `Well, that's boring. There goes my entertainment for the day.' The she-wolf let out a sigh of disappointment.
"May the superior reign. Fight!" The judge for their match dropped his hand, signaling the official beginning of the match to the fighters. The lizard quickly drew his limbs in, narrowing his stance by doing so, and propelled himself forward.
The odd beast, however, made no move, only held his relaxed stance with both hands on his staff as he gripped it vertically on his right side akin to how one would hold a walking stick. The lizard tightened his grip on the hilt of his axe and moved it to the left, preparing to swing right as he closed the gap between the fighters.
"He's leaving himself wide open like that," Stahl mumbled to herself, mere moments before the lizard was in range. The next turn of events happened within a span of two seconds, catching more than just the she-wolf by surprise.
The lizard lunged forward, closing in for his strike, and swung right. The beast took a single step back with his right foot, pivoted on his left heel, raised his staff horizontally just a hair above his chest, and lunged forward, perfectly spearing the charging, sidestepped lizard directly on his skull's temple.
The reptile's eyes rolled into the back of his skull and his tongue flopped out the side of his mouth as his body first seized up, and then crashed to the ground limp. The very arena shook from the roars.
Stahl sat up a bit in interest as the odd thing came walking back over to his seat. It was a good move, she's pulled off similar herself, but that required precision. Where the wolf would've struck the midsection, the beast instead exploited a weak spot to compensate for his weight disadvantage, should he have missed, he would have likely lost on the backswing of the axe.
The beast sat back down in the same place, resting his staff on his right side. The gray she-wolf eyed the beast that was now simply looking down at his own boots casually for a moment before she decided to finally speak to it.
"Nice move. Where'd you learn it?" The she-wolf received no response, not even acknowledgement that she had said anything at all, so she repeated herself, a hair louder this time, eliciting a slight jump from the beast as he looked towards her.
"Thanks, uh. Sorry, people don't usually talk to me so I kind of didn't realize you were."
Stahl found herself a bit surprised this monster could even talk at all, but asked her question a third time anyway. "Don't sweat it. So where'd you learn to fight?" The she-wolf raised an eyebrow at the strange creature.
"Oh, um. Watching mostly. Older brother." The creature looked away uncomfortably. Stahl didn't buy that for a second, but she wasn't going to press the issue. Yet.
"Did you get injured?" The she-wolf asked, gesturing at the bandages. "Huh? Oh! Just a rash..." The beast was dying of embarrassment beneath his cover, wishing he'd picked a better excuse.
"Riiight. Right. So uh... What about the weird helm then? That can't be helpful in battle." Stahl wasn't backing down quite yet.
"...It's an heirloom." The wolf could hear the exasperation in the thing's voice, so she wouldn't press anymore for now. Still... She needed to say something.
"You know, you're pretty damn weird, but you're good at fighting too, so... I like it." The she-wolf offered up a smirk with her compliment, her fang peeking out of the corner of her smile the same way her father's tends to.
The creature just stared at the beautiful gray she-wolf in response, and, even though any expression was covered by the helm, Stahl couldn't help but get the feeling it was smiling under there.
Both young warriors won their respective second matches, and returned the following day to continue their challenge. Only, perhaps sitting a bit closer to each other this time.
***