Jawan was buzzing with activity. Fishermen were running back and forth, fishing in a hurry and bringing back their catch to their shop quickly. With summer quickly coming to an end, everyone was rather impatient and short-tempered. This year's summer had been extremely unstable, some days coming close to world record, and some weeks being worthy of autumn. Some of those fishermen had to get their boats in the sea and their fish in the shop, or else their summer wouldn't bring them enough income to survive winter. It had been a rough summer for many, and a plentiful one for some.
Jawan wasn't very interesting to the rest of Barakka, or even to Lambastia. After people had tasted Jawan's fish specialities, most people never bothered to come back. Tourists came around to take a swim at beaches, to take pictures of the various species living here, and generally for a good vacation all-around. However, very few people actually came to enjoy the seafood delicacies. They were like an afterthought; the most famous attribute of Jawan, but not big enough to allow the fishermen to survive very well.
So why does that even matter? Why would anyone bother to learn about this, and why would anyone be interested?
Well, beyond the beaches and the food, a brand new attraction had settled into town... Past all those beaches and those seafood restaurants, mingled with the few souvenir shops, was a round building of sorts. It had no ceiling at all, but from the looks of it, it seemed very modern.
"Why am I even doing this? Nobody's going to come to this godforsaken place." The words were harsh, but quiet. The young man was walking back and forth, from one side to the other, arms crossed and an unhappy expression on his face that told you of anger, irritation, frustration, and just about every other negative emotions known to mankind. His black hair was adorned with flaming red streaks, and his attire ranged from orange to red, including yellow.
He paced back and forth, sometimes looking towards the main town square. And sometimes, he was lucky enough to get someone to walk towards the building: which, really, was reminiscent of an arena. Whenever someone would walk close by, he would intercept them quickly. "Hey! Hey, you! Yeah, you," he called from afar, walking quickly towards the stranger. "Hey. You interested in something cool? ... You might know what this is. Know someone named Astrophel? Average, kinda tall guy, black hair, kinda weird and mysterious? ... Oh never mind, whatever." The questions and words were linked together quickly, leaving anyone no time to even answer him at all. "Look, never mind, you a fighter? This here is an arena. Fight in there and win, you get a prize. Lose, and you're getting the boot to the exit," he asked, and explained, again without giving you much time for answer.
Those who just gave him looks and shook their head to the fighter question were just left alone. Those who did answer to the question with a yes, or those that looked interested, were just dragged inside the arena. They were brought inside to a rather makeshift desk. "I'm Laresol," the guy said, fiddling with the papers on the desk. "If you know how to get things going in an arena, then get this in your head and get ready to fight in there." He added nothing more, and instead just gave you the papers he'd been fiddling with. The rules were written on them, in a rather bad and lazy handwriting, some words crossed out, as if the person who'd written this hadn't put much effort into it...
Jawan wasn't very interesting to the rest of Barakka, or even to Lambastia. After people had tasted Jawan's fish specialities, most people never bothered to come back. Tourists came around to take a swim at beaches, to take pictures of the various species living here, and generally for a good vacation all-around. However, very few people actually came to enjoy the seafood delicacies. They were like an afterthought; the most famous attribute of Jawan, but not big enough to allow the fishermen to survive very well.
So why does that even matter? Why would anyone bother to learn about this, and why would anyone be interested?
Well, beyond the beaches and the food, a brand new attraction had settled into town... Past all those beaches and those seafood restaurants, mingled with the few souvenir shops, was a round building of sorts. It had no ceiling at all, but from the looks of it, it seemed very modern.
"Why am I even doing this? Nobody's going to come to this godforsaken place." The words were harsh, but quiet. The young man was walking back and forth, from one side to the other, arms crossed and an unhappy expression on his face that told you of anger, irritation, frustration, and just about every other negative emotions known to mankind. His black hair was adorned with flaming red streaks, and his attire ranged from orange to red, including yellow.
He paced back and forth, sometimes looking towards the main town square. And sometimes, he was lucky enough to get someone to walk towards the building: which, really, was reminiscent of an arena. Whenever someone would walk close by, he would intercept them quickly. "Hey! Hey, you! Yeah, you," he called from afar, walking quickly towards the stranger. "Hey. You interested in something cool? ... You might know what this is. Know someone named Astrophel? Average, kinda tall guy, black hair, kinda weird and mysterious? ... Oh never mind, whatever." The questions and words were linked together quickly, leaving anyone no time to even answer him at all. "Look, never mind, you a fighter? This here is an arena. Fight in there and win, you get a prize. Lose, and you're getting the boot to the exit," he asked, and explained, again without giving you much time for answer.
Those who just gave him looks and shook their head to the fighter question were just left alone. Those who did answer to the question with a yes, or those that looked interested, were just dragged inside the arena. They were brought inside to a rather makeshift desk. "I'm Laresol," the guy said, fiddling with the papers on the desk. "If you know how to get things going in an arena, then get this in your head and get ready to fight in there." He added nothing more, and instead just gave you the papers he'd been fiddling with. The rules were written on them, in a rather bad and lazy handwriting, some words crossed out, as if the person who'd written this hadn't put much effort into it...
"[* Rules
Warning: Read them or
1.1. Fighters only. Only 1 pet can enter per person.
1.2. RolePlay your registration. (what the heck is 'RolePlaying' supposed to be?)
2.1.
2.2. You can
3.1. Include your stats (whatever they are). Includes: Offense, Defense, all that stuff in there | Your Traits (whatever they are) | Your element | Whatever you think you need to tell me, I mean, I don't even understand why you need to give me this.
3.2. If you complain that 'bawww I lost'
Most people who went through the rules made faces at the rudeness and overall bluntness behind them. Some of them even wondered if this thing was serious or if this were some kind of trick...
After they were done with the rules, the leftover papers included the procedure of the tournament. How things would work, how battles would proceed; everything the fighters needed to know to enter.
After they were done with the rules, the leftover papers included the procedure of the tournament. How things would work, how battles would proceed; everything the fighters needed to know to enter.
"[*
1.1. This thing is a grid tournament, 8 fighters. Not one more, not one less.
1.2. This thing won't start until we get 8
2.1. I'm going to matching you up randomly. No whining. Or
2.2. You're going to be notified when your battle is up (
3. You have 3 days to post your move. After your 3 days are up, you're automatically
Upon reading the second section, most wondered if that guy even wanted to do this tournament. His words were crude and clearly uncaring, so why was he here?
Moving on, the last sheet of paper included the prizes the winners would receive upon winning. Which, admittedly, was the most interesting part.
Moving on, the last sheet of paper included the prizes the winners would receive upon winning. Which, admittedly, was the most interesting part.
"[* Prizes
Because I apparently need to include that stuff.
[* 1st - 300KS + 1 Alonia Pet of your CHOICE!
[* 2nd - 250KS + 1 Wild Pet of your CHOICE!
[* 3rd - 200KS + 1 Elder Kuhna OR 1 Ancient Kuhna of your CHOICE!"
"Well?" Sol asked eventually, getting impatient. "If you want to register, just fill out those papers, and stuff," he added, giving the fighters even more papers. However, they were relieved to see that those papers were clean and well-written.
Now, are you ready to behold a solar eclipse?
Now, are you ready to behold a solar eclipse?