[b]Starting Date and Time:[/b] 25th Day of Mauven, 300 DM, Midday

[b]Starting Location:[/b] [url=http://ebonfort.wikia.com/wiki/File:Tournament_Location.jpg]South of Green Fall[/url]

[b]CS URLs:[/b] [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/2918608]Megumi Tsukiyama[/url] & [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/3009606]Aaryn Nevi[/url]

[hider=GM Note] Anyone with an accepted Ebonfort Character Sheet, that doesn't already have a character in this quest, can still join this, simply let me know[/hider]

Warden Knights Geoff and Teskin were seated at the long table in front of the Grand Melee. [color=f7976a][i][b]"Boy, more wine!"[/b][/i][/color] The young Anuirean boy, crimson maned, rushed forward with the jug, clanking clumsily in his armor. He poured the wine into the large orc's goblet, the human next to him laughing hysterically at some joke. Four Wardens sat as judges, along with a handful of captains, all waiting for the Grand Melee to begin. The lesser knights had already been dispatched toward Scream Watch. They would likely lose a lot of them, but that happens when Screamers are involved. It was why they held these recruitment tournaments.

They all stood as a massive male Char in the finest Ebonsteel armor, trimmed gold, with a crystalline sword strapped to his back, walked out to the center of the Grand Melee arena. Every Knight stood at attention and watched him somberly. This was one of the strongest fighters in existence, Lord Knight Svarak, commander of the Citadel. The crowd quieted. In a loud, booming voice, [color=aba000][i][b]"Welcome to the Mauven Tournament. It fills my heart with pride to see all of you here, enjoying the strengthening of our ranks through pure competition. Competition is the pillar which makes Ebonfort strong. And strength is why we still endure and thrive when every other civilization has fallen. Might makes right!"[/b][/i][/color]

He paused a moment as every citizen repeated the standing motto of Ebonfort, before continuing, [color=aba000][i][b]"So enjoy yourselves, drink, eat, gamble, and laugh. As for the fighters. Fight hard, fight for your country, your family, your friends, but most importantly, fight for yourself. It is each and every one of you that makes our empire strong. So prove your worth."[/b][/i][/color] He turned and walked toward the stands, for he was not a judge, but merely a patron. He was far too important for such trivial work. 

The moment he left the arena, the horn blew signaling the beginning of the Grand Melee. After many had fallen, a cloaked man, face obscured, ran out from the stands into the arena. Once he reached the center of the arena, he ripped off his cloak, revealing his skin covered in crimson vine tattoos. He thrust his arms skyward, letting loose a gut-wrenching scream nearly everyone know, a Scream War Cry. The very same cry they were named after. At the edges of the arena, squires were scrambling to draw their weapons and stop this deranged enemy. 

For those closest to the man, their sixth senses went into overdrive. They would all be able to feel something wrong with the world, but couldn't quite place it yet. Then the crack appeared in the air several feet above him. Those nearby could hear the winds rushing out of the crack, could feel the heat it emanated. They could make out intimate details of the mountainous, volcanic world through the crack as it widened. They could see the two suns in the sky. And they were the first to hear the reptilian roars. 

An ogre with his club, who'd dispatched several participants, had moved toward the man, raising his club high. He brought it down at the man's head, only for it to suddenly stop a foot above him, and shatter into splinters. These shards flew outward, blinding the ogre, sending him stumbling backward in pain before falling over. The roars grew louder, and single, reptilian head popped into view, looking at the stands, roaring at fellows of its kind behind it. It slinked through and dropped to the grass, and immediately took off toward the stands. 

A second, smaller [url=http://vignette1.wikia.nocookie.net/ebonfort/images/9/93/Chimera.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20150921005521]creature[/url] dropped through. The creature was not something anyone had ever seen before, not even the most seasoned of hunters. It was twice as tall as a warhorse, and three abroad. It was muscle bound, covered in protective bony plates, with row upon row of viciously curved teeth.

Those in the arena could already hear the screams of panic and distress from the onlookers, but clearly had a much larger problem on their hands. This one immediately charged the downed ogre, both heads biting it's large, bulky body. To the keen observer, they could see the skin around the teeth of one head turning green and fetid, while the area around the other sizzled and turned black. Satisfied the ogre was dead, it cast its gaze to the closest combatant, preparing to charge, roaring in presumed victory.