Trinity Tourney OCT Audition

In the near future

Norway

A figure, hunched over, scuttled into the cave’s mouth.  His clothes were dirty and worn from the chase.  He stalked forward like an animal, his hands held up to his chest like a raptor’s.  Also like a raptor, his hands possessed a deadly set of claws.  Four-inch blades protruded from each finger.  Unlike normal human nails, these were as hard as steel, and sharpened to a lethal edge.

His name was unimportant, for he’d abandoned it long ago for an alias.  He was now known as the Grim Reaper, an infamous killer-thief who had been traversing Europe for some time now.  His claws allowed him to cut through glass, stab unsuspecting victims in dark alleys, and “negotiate” deals with uncooperative crime lords.

But the long arm of justice, though sometimes slow, had finally caught up with him.  Elijah Greene, known by his alias “Toxic Cowboy” from his venomous mutation and infatuation with Wild West style getup, was tracking him through Norway’s forests.  Years of experience weren’t even necessary to catch the Grim Reaper.  He was leaving an obvious trail of shoeprints and scratched bark.

The Grim Reaper spotted a cave and inside, his nails making loud scratching noises on the rocks.  He looked for a shadowy corner to hide in.  If he could get the jump on the agent, he might be able to get out of this.  All he needed was the right spot to hide.  Something glinted up ahead, catching his attention.

It was a large chunk of ice.  It reached up to, but didn’t touch the roof of the cave.  In fact, if he climbed on top, he’d probably have a good spot to mount an attack.  Without hesitation, the Grim Reaper dug his claws into the ice, sending spiderweb cracks along its surface.

Toxic Cowboy paused before entering the cave.  He slid one magnum out of its holster and popped open the chamber.  Six rounds stared back at him.  He gave the chamber a spin and flicked his wrist to the right, snapping it back into place.  The cave’s dark mouth stared back at him.  He grunted in frustration.  The cave offered a lot of options to the Grim Reaper.  Not so many options to him.  A lot of variables were in play.  He’d have to take it slow and quiet.

Toxic entered, moving quietly as a breeze.  He kept both hands on the grip of his magnum.  No sense trying to muscle his way through this one if he didn’t have to.  His eyes scanned the rocky surface and found several dead giveaways.  A bit of mud, some scratches on a rock, a blade of grass.  Hugging the shadows, he quickly and silently followed the trail back to its source.

They led right to a large ice block.  Something about it was strange, though.  It seemed to almost glow with its own inner light.  Elijah looked around the cave.  There was a standing pool of water right next to him.  Shouldn’t it be too warm for this kind of ice to stay frozen?  Maybe it was the sheer size that kept it there.

His eyes trailed up the frosty monolith.  Several cracks were lined up along its wall.  The Grim Reaper’s work.  Toxic Looked at the top of the ice block.  There he was, lying in wait.  Toxic’s stealth training had kept him from being seen, turning the ambusher into the ambushee.  Almost casually, he aimed his magnum at the ice right below the Grim Reaper and fired a shot.  Frost and ice chunks blew out in a huge white cloud.

The Grim Reaper let out an animalistic hiss as he dropped.  Toxic Cowboy stepped out of the darkness and pointed his still smoking weapon at him.  “Gotcha.”  “You wouldn’t dare shoot me…kill me like this.  This is murder.”  Toxic shrugged.  “Perhaps not.  But your kneecaps make for a fine target.”  His eyes opened a little wider as something triggered his acute senses.  His left hand darted into his trench coat and fished out his second magnum, whipping it out in less than a second.  He aimed it off to the side.

“I wouldn’t recommend your friend try anything either.”  The Grim Reaper squinted at him.  “F-Friend?” he muttered, “I don’t have any friends.  I killed ‘em all.”  “Then who…” Toxic Cowboy thought to himself.  He glanced to his right as a third figure stepped out of the shadows.

A mask covered his face.  It depicted a grinning face, similar to the “Comedy” mask often seen in Opera Houses.  The mask was split into two colors vertically.  The left side was red and the right side black.  He wore an ankle length grey cloak with a black half-cape.  The inside of the cape was red.  His hands were not visible as he had crossed his arms in front of himself and hidden his hands in the vacuous sleeves.  A hood covered the back of his head, exposing only the mask.  Not an inch of skin was visible.

“You’re good.  Better than I expected,” the figure said in a soft cockney accent.

Toxic pulled back the hammer on his second magnum.  “Not another step,” he threatened.  The figure held up his hands.  “Please put it away, chap.  If I wanted you dead, you would be already.”  Toxic Cowboy glanced down at his prisoner and back at the strange cloaked figure.  The Grim Reaper was just as confused as he was.  He flicked the safety on his gun and gave it a twirl before holstering it.  “Oh excuse me, where are me manners.  My name is Lottatellum.  Lotti for short.  I come from a land known as Sarun-” the stranger began.

“Never heard of it,” Toxic interrupted.  “Of course you haven’t.  Fact is, you don’t even share the same reality as me,” Lotti continued, undaunted.  “What?”  “No matter.  I am collecting champions for a…game of sorts.  A tournament.”  “I’m listening,” Elijah said.  “There are a lot of details to explain, it’ll be easier if I just hand you this.”  He reached inside his gigantic sleeves and produced an old-fashioned looking letter.  Elijah took it in his free hand and read it aloud.

“To the fighter this letter reaches,
You have been invited to participate in a tournament new to the public. We three champions invite you to gather your best and strongest team of three and come try to take us on. You will fight up the ranks for the chance at glory, the chance to test you skills against we three chosen as the Champions of Sarun. Enclosed you will find directions to Sarun, as well as information on the prizes you will be offered should you win.
We look forward to seeing you fight.
Sincerely, The Champions of Sarun”

He folded the letter up and stuffed it back into his trench coat.  “Very interesting, but as you can see, I’m a bit busy right now.  Perhaps in a few-”  Before he could finish, a loud cracking noise rang out.  Both Toxic Cowboy and the mysterious cloaked man looked towards the source.  The ice block on the wall had a large crack running from the point where Toxic Cowboy had shot it.

The Grim Reaper seized his opportunity.  With a snarl, he leapt at Elijah, digging his claws deep into his chest.  Toxic Cowboy screamed in pain as he was thrown to the ground.  The Grim Reaper put his claws around Elijah’s throat and prepared to behead him.

“Foul beast!” shouted a loud, baritone voice.  The Grim Reaper looked up in amazement.  Standing before him was a medieval knight in resplendent armor.  A white cape billowed out from behind him.  His armor was adorned with golden crosses.  Even his noseguard was a cross that extended upwards of the helmet.  He stepped out of the ice block, seeming to have sprouted out of it.

“Back to Hell with you!” the knight cried.  The long spear he was carrying lunged out and stabbed the Grim Reaper through the chest, pinning him against the cave wall.  He cringed for a moment and seemed to curl in on himself like a dying insect before all life faded from his body and he hung limp.  Satisfied, the knight removed his lance.  The Grim Reaper’s corpse slumped to the ground.

Silence reigned for a few moments.  “Well that was unexpected,” Lotti remarked.  The knight wheeled around, observing the other two occupants of the cave.  “Neither of you is the sorcerer I was sent to fight…are you his minions?”  Toxic Cowboy stood up, rubbing his sore neck.  Drips of blood seeped between his fingers.

“Nearly took my head off…” he muttered to himself.  He did a double take when he saw the armored figure before him.  “Ooooh, I hate my life.” The knight tilted his head quizzically.  “Your clothes are very strange.  What land do you hail from?”  “Um…Arizona.  My name is Elijah Greene.  I was here to apprehend that man you seem to have killed.  Which raises the question: where did you come from?”

“My name is Thaddeus Bellatoni, son of Francesco Bellatoni.  I am an Italian by birth and a Paladin in service of the Supreme Pontiff.  I was sent to this cave to seek out a dangerous sorcerer by order of Archbishop Gregory, my mentor.  I had just completed my task when the shaman cast a spell on me that had frozen me solid.”

Neither person spoke.  They simply stared at the newcomer.  Finally Elijah spoke up.  “The Paladins?  I thought they were only a myth…but that puts you back in the late fourteenth century…you’ve been frozen for over six hundred years?”  Now it was the Paladin’s turn to be shocked silent.  “Six hundred years!?  By the wounds of Christ!”

“The Director is never going to believe this,” Toxic groaned.  Lollatellum looked back and forth at the two.  “Well, the tournament does call for a three-man team.  If you two join up, you’d only need one more,” he mused, handing Thaddeus a letter.

“A tournament…will there be jousting?” Thaddeus asked.  “Eh, something like that.  Listen, I gotta go.  Good luck gettin’ your team together.  Cheerio!”  With that, the mysterious cloaked man faded back into the shadows of the cave.  Toxic Cowboy stared at Thaddeus.  He looked back down at the letter and read it over.

“I guess I don’t have anything to lose,” he murmured begrudgingly.  “A chance to hone my abilities against skilled opponents?  This sounds like a most worthy endeavor.  Perhaps I will learn something about this world I’ve awoken to as well,” Thaddeus said.  “So you’re in?” Toxic asked, one eyebrow raised.  Thaddeus curled his hand into a fist and beat it across his chest, nodding at his new partner.  Toxic smiled and shook his head, bemused.  “Well, someone’s got to stop you from stabbing everyone you meet, might as well be me.  Let’s go for it.”

At those words, a brilliant light shone from down the tunnel.  The two of them felt themselves being pulled by some invisible force.  They resisted for only a moment before the light overtook them.  When they awoke, they found themselves in a strange new world…