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    1. The Wild West 8 yrs ago

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@LugubriousOh, whoops, I just thought because of the little description it meant that it came tied with the object, I'll fix that. As for the pot, I kinda used this to figure out the size comparison, I just eyeballed it and figured it was that.
Yesterday


As the bloody and pulpy remains of Angel's head ran down the fat fingers of Tyrant, he looked at the rest of the larger than human body and wondered if this would serve as a proper treat for the hard-fought battle. The giant's body was still fresh from the several wounds that he occurred, multiple spots of damage from both those electrifying spears and the recoil from his Sound Eater, but nothing that his body couldn't rest off for a time. Anyhow, surrounded by destruction by himself, he sat down with a heavy thump, dropping the body near his grasp as his bloodied hand started to rub the mush across his body. This was simply as a matter of his rituals, usually Tyrant would be covered in other people's blood from head to toe while feasting, but with only one measly morsel rubbing this paste upon himself had to suffice to appease his hungering god. A bit of stinging was felt, rubbing blood onto fresh wounds especially when they were still lightly sizzling was hurtful but through these wounds Tyrant felt the first taste of victory within the tournament... And it tasted good. Finished with his barbaric ritual, the ogre grabbed the lifeless corpse by the leg, yanking hard enough to rip off an entire leg with a large hunk of meat to follow. The feasting soon commenced, eating the vampire's body with small bites trying to savor his victory and taste of this new specimen as the taste was far different from his universe's vampires. Alas, even when taking small bites, the Tyrant had quickly finished his meal leaving him unsatisfied for the time. So, as Tyrant sat around covered in blood with strips of only metal as Tyrant had munched on the bones as well, a familiar voice entered his ear holes.

It was Oren, the annoying announcer from before the fight had started, Tyrant was barely listening as he picked off blackened strips of skin from his various burns. The person didn't provide much else besides altering him of some prize among ruin of the amphitheater and that a storm would soon be dropping on the land. It seemed that Oren had to announce that a storm was coming meaning that it would be pretty heavy hitting... For humans. The Ogre Kingdoms don't care much for weather, they lived in the mountains that were cold enough to give most frostbite in minutes, lived near volcanoes in which some ogres drink from time to time, and their entire homeland in general is a landscape known to be one of the most dangerous areas in the Old World. Tyrant did not care for finding shelter for some might as well be drizzle, but was interested for the prize that he gained from eating his competition.

Scrounging around for a bit, the ogre managed to find his mark, yet it was completely underwhelming. The object was no bigger than his hand, and it seemed to have a large grinning face chiseled into the pot. After turning the thing around the green pot for a bit, Tyrant seemed to hear something else inside of the object yet the opening seemed to have nothing from the inside. The ogre found it... Interesting, as he shook the pot towards his opened palm for two random coins falling onto his hand. Tyrant looked at this currency, not recognizing these coins, he simply threw them away and looked at the pot with slight disdain for its uselessness. The Ogre simply jammed the thing into a various small pocket of his large pants finding the trinket basically a useless item, maybe it could be used later, but to him it might as well be with the rubble of the amphitheater. Still, Tyrant just sat around, he was going to stay in the ruins trying to conserve his strength and focusing mainly on getting heal these wounds to the best of his abilities. And so, time goes forward into the next day as Tyrant waited around the destroyed ruins of his battleground.

Today

Before the night began, Tyrant had constructed some sort of make-shift tent out of the various rubble and torn out earth with his massive strength. It would satisfy something that resembled his old bed, but the storm soon began as it seemed that the rain was actually similar to that of his homeland... Heavy. The construct made out of heavy stone stood against most of the time, the rain was no problem, but the thunderous shocks gave the structure a shake causing it to fall down multiple times forcing the ogre to rebuild several times. It didn't even matter though at a point, ogres can march several days without being tired, but the Tyrant himself had grown accustomed to his mobile tent, so he had grown into the more luxurious forms of being a blood-thirsty rich power hungry warlord.

So, as Tyrant laid in a shitty rubble stacked to be some form of structure, the storm seemed to fade away allowing peace for a short time before another disturbance inconvenienced the Tyrant. A familiar boom was heard in the distance, something akin to his Sound Eater at a much larger scale, but the Tyrant himself could feel the small tremors that it carried which impressed the ogre. It seemed something was happening, but in this grassy expanse, the giant couldn't see much from where most of the action was taking place. Though, what Tyrant could see made him gurgle out a low laugh as above the sky was tainted with a inky black monster that enveloped the sky. It was quite impressive, to say the least, what Tyrant wanted simply was to figure out a way to eat it, but that come later as Oren once again decided to show his presence once more to Tyrant's disdain.

What he gave was a relative importance, rather than being transported like last time to his opponents it seemed that he would have to find something else in this large space. It seemed that whoever he fights it will be in the open, this could be good or bad, but it all depended on the mystery opponent for the overgrown ogre. Though it was no matter of scheming in the future, brute force usually works, so if that doesn't work the Tyrant shall wing it as always and win! However... He needed to know where to even head in this land that seemed to be an endless expanse of grass. The Ogre tried to scan the landscape to no avail, he had a day to win, a large time if he somehow went in the right direction towards his opponents, but nothing at all would indicate which direction the opponent would be! So, the Tyrant tapped his foot impatiently for a bit, shaking the rubble around him, before getting the idea of asking the annoying disembodied voice for help to find his next victim. With a clumsy action, trying to work the thing, he called for Oren on his Phylactery, "I order for your aid, lead me to my next meal before my gut wonders what you taste like."
Arsenal - Highway Robbery

As Arsenal continued to expose himself to the direct line of fire between the three still functioning soldiers and the rather dangerous Noble, the boy was starting to worry if Chatterbox was going to be able to talk his way out of this mess before reinforcement arrives to bag everyone. He actually had the half mind to just switch to his little live-fire stash and use his more dangerous weaponry to kill everyone within his sights! He didn't want to spend the rest of his life stinking up in jail without the use of his perfectly crafted weapons making human slushies out of people with his hail of fire. However, as Noble seemed to calm down from her trigger-happy state, still giving rather undesirable options of going to prison, another voice rang out of the blue surprising everyone within an ear shot of the made up numbers.

Before any could properly react to the sudden arrival, Arsenal heard a loud whiz from an object pass his ears before a loud jarring clang knocked the wind out of Noble before falling down for the count. Incredibly, it didn't stop there as it impossibly ricocheted of the body to consecutively hit each of the following soldiers with similar effects of being knocked out by this flying object. Arsenal soon looked to find the person causing this sudden turn of events, and as the object soon landed squarely within the hands of thrower, it seemed to be the person that the group was sent out to save. It was Gamble to everyone's surprise, it looked like he had somehow gotten out of his cage to ironically save the people that were trying to save him. Though, all of that aside, as Gamble was randomly blubbering out numbers with the rest of the gang getting their barrings out of the fight, Arsenal needed to do something before leaving the crime scene.

Briskly walking over towards his rear flank, Arsenal quickly went behind some chest high cover to find a certain someone that needed to be taught a lesson for their ignorance. They seemed to be knocked out from Gamble's attack, the boy would have liked to hear some screaming, but this would have to do before he made his escape. Taking off the man's helmet, exposing his face to the bright light of the sun, Arsenal looked upon the face that destroyed one of his creations. As he slowly curled up his fingers into a ball of steel and circuits, Arsenal decided to hold back almost all of his concrete destroying strength as killing a person now would just be kind of stupid after going through the trouble of using rubber ammo. So, with that decision of not murder, Arsenal placed his fist near the eye of the fallen solider and took two quick jabs towards both of his eyes. "There, that should cover the psychological cost of almost killing me and destroying one of my creations," Arsenal mocked, the two excellently placed punches would soon turn into nasty looking shiners after the group wakes up from their failures.

After walking away from his punching bag, Arsenal knew that at this point someone had told Gamble that the group would escape the same way they arrived through Chatterbox's car. He was most likely the last one in as he needed to set things straight with the PRT solider. As Arsenal jammed his way into the car, waiting for the getaway, the group seemed to have succeeded in their plans even if it had major hicks such as losing an entire member but Arsenal didn't much like Lovely in the first place.

Artificer - Denver Skyline

With everyone doing their own thing, Artificer climbed on top of his impossibly flying construct and settled in for the oncoming fight. At the moment, the young boy only had two weapons at his disposable with one being this great flying fly and the other being a rather large explosive device which would most likely kill anyone if dropped within range. Artificer disliked killing people, especially mutilating bodies in horrible explosions, so Artiicer could really only provide air support for the group at the moment. Still, providing air support was better than nothing as the group of misfits started to get ready for the fight ahead and Artificer waited for G4M3R to climb aboard the giant wooden fly.
@Lugubrious Before I forget to ask, how big would you say that the Pot of Greed actually is? Is it scaled to the relative size of Tyrant or is it just some human sized pot making it pretty small in his eyes.
"Right hand, left hand. Right hand, left had." Tyrant mumbled to himself, those big tough hands of his tightly gripping onto each step of the moaning ladder. The big oaf grumbled for each time the ladder seemed to groan under his weight which was actually quite often for his stature and size. In the end, Tyrant had to put his fate in the sturdiness of the lone ladder and the great leader didn't put too much faith which only made his ascent to the surface as fast as possible. Though as he steadily climbed this ramshackle ladder, the music that accompanied his ascent didn't seem to be some bad joke from the College as it steadily grew with more force and volume with each passing moment. Tyrant was quite intrigued at the noise, it wasn't mere coincidence that this music packed so much power in each note, and the most logical conclusion in this magical death tournament was that someone up above was fighting with another contestant or some mighty beast. Either which way, the ogre would be glad to fight the champion of the fight and feast upon both the winner and loser to fill his endless belly.

As the ogre continued this endless climbing, the dust from the forceful music was shoving a storm of dust in his face, the ladder was screaming in pain from his weight, and the dim sunlight was suggesting that his ascent onto the surface would take a bit more than he thought. However, the thought of more risky climbing was soon extinguished from his mind as a once familiar light was shone on his face the Tyrant soon realized that one of his hands missed a step on the ladder. "Aw shit." That was all Tyrant could say before his hefty body made a descent that would end in a bloody paste of meat, blood, and fat. The Tyrant, in all his glory, was quite sad that he didn't get to taste any of the new textures and meat within his mouth before meeting a violent fate.

However, before even a sorrowful sigh could escape his lungs, his mass smashed into something that didn't result into a bloody mess. This new sensation of not dying combined with his vision blurring from the sudden jump made him quietly question if he was in some sort of afterlife. However, that possibility was soon thrown from the window as his vision started to come back from blinding dust into some large brightly lit building. Tyrant was heavily confused for a bit, his mind was being boggled at the moment before his sight manged to latch upon a familiar figure which would be the person betting on him winning this tournament. "You... What are you?" The confused ogre managed to slur out, his eyes drifting onto another figure within the room which was a... Contestant! The Tyrant instantly went on the defensive from the armored figure, his great mass shifting onto his feet with a strange amount of dexterity before the Titan Eater was comfortable in his hands ready to smack someone across the building before something else interrupted the fight which only met with another groan from both warriors. The great ogre didn't really listen to the floating strange thing, it had a voice which was called Oren, but the contestant named Dante seemed to shift himself into a battle stance as Oren spoke to the two silent warriors. The two only managed to listen in on the last part of his ramblings, while both were glaring at each other, the loud speaker from the strange thing boosted its vocal range that the two should fight!

Tyrant vs. The Angel

With a large battle cry, Tyrant with all his might sloshed forward towards Dante, the towering size of the ogre smashing through the bright red seats with Titan Eater raised above his head. Dante simply saw this as a overhead strike, a simple parry and strike should teach the monster to not underestimate the centuries old knight. As the vampire stood still, waiting for the strike, Tyrant soon defied expectations with a horrifying grin on his pudgy face. The ogre's stance soon shifted, his feet grinded into the floor, seats were flying in almost every direction as Titan Eater's overhead strike transformed into a lower swing down but not towards Dante... But towards the bright red seats! Dante squinted, his sword twitching with Tyrant's movements a bit too late as the club of bone smashed through dozens of seats with the resulting force making those plush chairs pierce through the air as high-speed projectiles! Dante's eyebrow raised, "This thing might have more than just fat in his head." The vampire knight with superior reflexes easily sliced through the projectiles, the chairs splintering into pieces from the might of Dante, but his ears twitched at the noise of something else behind the impromptu projectiles... Chains? It was too late for the vampire to react, a giant metal beast of blood and iron snarled at the armored vampire with its viscous teeth violently clamping onto Dante. The Tyrant laughed as his prey was caught by this trick, the captured Dante trapped between the teeth of one of the Beast Eaters before the mechanisms of the contraptions violently dragged the Angel towards the greedy hands of the ogre.

"Easy pickings! I'll have you in my belly in no time!" The ogre said, Dante bouncing on the ground getting closer towards the Tyrant with a... seemingly bright light surrounding himself? "What's that?" Tyrant said, well, the words he managed to get out anyway before the holy magic of Dante blasted into his face. The towering giant screamed, his eyes were blinded for just enough time for Dante's vampire strength to break free of the viscous bite of the Beast Eater. The slightly bewildered knight soon using the same holy magic to grow wings to soar into the enclosed cage of the amphitheater.

"Die." Dante muttered, a holy infused spear of light soon crackling on the gauntlets, pointed directly at the still blinded Tyrant. Without another thought, Dante soon unleashed hell upon the ogre with his holy spear of thunder. It whizzed through the air before exploding right next to Tyrant, throwing the giant across the room and slamming harshly upon the floor. Another started to form around his hands, forming at a slightly reduced speed to produce an even bigger more concentrated form of magic death. All the while Tyrant was gasping for breath, his muscles making light spasms from the concussive and electric blast of the thunderous holy lighting spear and his hands barely managing to steadily support himself on the hardwood floor. "Worm." Dante muttered once again, the greasy smell of charred open skin of Tyrant expunging into through the room.

"Sog it all to hell, Great Maw... Give me strength," Tyrant gasped, his hands pushing himself to his feet, his knees wobbling as his head tilted upwards towards his enemy. "Aw fuck," Tyrant mumbled, his beady eyes seeing that this second holy infused light spear was bigger than the last and growing with size and most likely destructive power. With his blurry eyes and aching muscles, the great ogre had an idea as his arms began to reach for another very heavy object holstered on his back. This was concerning to Dante, the vampiric knight didn't last this long from endlessly monologuing while his opponents found some way to foil his plans of their death. The winged knight glanced over towards his holy weapon, a lightning spear nearly twice his size fizzling and scorching the air with its concentrated magic. Should he wait for a bit more? A few more seconds and he can create something that will wipe out everything on the ground floor into ashes but it could lead into more time for his opponent to counter act... Lets kill him now. Dante raised his arm, the unstable holy spear of destruction grew just a few more inches before being released by the armored gauntlets of the vampire. The destructive spear scorched the surrounding air, it was flying towards Tyrant with great speed, but it didn't matter much as the Tyrant had already won at this point.

"SUCK ON ITTTTT" Tyrant bellowed, a familiar weapon in his hands, the terror of destruction known as the Sound Eater was within his grasp as the thunderous spear was halfway towards blasting away his existence. The ogre smashed his fist on the Sound Eater, it hummed in fury as the cannon started to glow in a red violent mist. "FASTE-" Tyrant managed to get out, the lightning spear ending whatever was left of the ogre as a violent light spread throughout the amphitheater cleansing the city of one evil son of a bitch... Or that would have happened if luck wasn't on Tyrant's side.

The Sound Eater with a violent screech started, the magical infused cannon screaming with a cataclysmic explosion igniting within the barrel, the resulting force of fire and mayhem blasting Tyrant backwards through the amphitheater as his stance wasn't the best to fire a city breaking weapon. However, it managed to fire which is all that mattered as a human sized cannon ball was soon ejected from the screaming Tyrant and Sound Eater. Though, no one could hear this screaming anymore, actually, nothing could be heard at all. Everything was silent, it was almost as if they were transported towards another world for a second time with this insanely silent amphitheater. And even though the cannon ball didn't even come remotely close to hitting the magically destructive electro-holy spear, the simple fact of the magical discharge from Sound Eater easily overpowered the weapon to now be completely gone with the wind. And to the wind to everywhere as a matter a fact, the cannon ball simply vanished from the theater from its force as the resulting blow back instantly destroyed anything within its path and the pressure that it brought blew everything away... Even the flying magical vampire knight... Especially, the magical flying vampire knight.

The resulting force had blown back the Tyrant out of the amphitheater, but since the force wasn't directly applied to the skin, Dante got it less but it still hurt like hell. The sheer pressure made Dante fly... Even more, he lost balance completely being thrown in the air to the mercy of the winds, but the winds weren't on his side. Dante, completely disoriented, confused, was sent towards a certain object in the air with an abundant supply of electricity, the dozens of stage lights which haven't been completely torn off yet from Sound Eater. Dante's metal suit clashed directly into the stage lights, the resulting electric charges coursed directly into the metal suit electrocuting anything within the inside of the metal. The vampire screamed in complete agony as several electric currents coursed through his entire body yet his screams fell upon deaf ears. The pressure still stood, pushing himself further into more stage lights, and when it was over... When Sound Eater stopped being the terror of the building, Dante's vampire body fell from the heavens and into hell. After that, nothing happened, pieces fell from the sky and giant gaping hole in the amphitheater was apparent from the Sound Eater but neither contender seemed to stand up from their wounds. The Angel was electrocuted several times over while a charred Tyrant was blasted out of the amphitheater alone from the concussive blast. For a few minutes it seemed that everything was over for the two, a tie with both dead, until a crunching noise filled the completely destroyed theater. A familiar sixteen foot tall giant, stumbling onto the field, bloodied and bruised but alive. Silent... Tyrant slogged over to the dying Dante, his brain and muscles fried beyond belief, and through an act of dominance or mercy picked up vampire knight from the head. "Crispy, just how I like them," Tyrant muttered, before crushing the plated head between his fingers as bones, blood, and brain matter seeped down his hand. And with that over, Tyrant breathed in a large gulp of air before bellowing a mighty roar in the ruined amphitheater.
@The Wild West, I'd appreciate both of you posting in the near future.


I swear I'll be more active once my summer break begins, just one more week of finals and I'll have a lot more free time on my hands.
Arsneal - Highway Robbery

You know, Arsenal was feeling pretty silly for not only targeting two dummy targets that allowed the heroes to sneak up on the team, but also the fact that the villain was hiding behind a car afraid of being enveloped by some shaving cream by some trigger happy bitch. He was hoping for some kind of opening, Chatterbox could do that with his power... Right? It would take a second and Arsenal could pelt her until her skin color was purple! Ah, but that chance never did arise, as much as Arsenal wanted to kill the hero it seemed that Chatterbox had something else within his mind as he heard his voice calling out to the cyborg to stand down. The young man sighed to himself, rubbing his eyes at the tomfoolery of Chatterbox's scheme of brainwashing a hero and in his situation had to comply to try to get out of these mission alive and out of super hero jail. Grimacing just for a few seconds, a giant frown beneath his bandanna, Arsenal flexed his back before slowly raising himself out into this vulnerable position. As the cyborg stood tall among the rubble, all sets of his arms were now pointing at their best towards the sky with his surprisingly resilient sombrero still perched upon his head. "Ya got me, I surrender, just try to tell your trigger happy friend to lay off the murder bullets."

Artificer - Denver Skyline

As things started to conclude, the masked man in swat gear called Jaunt teleporting away as their slightly villainous schemes were brought to everyone's attention, the Endbringer being rather a parahuman than an Endbringer, and Furnace the supernova star flying away to save people with his rather awesome power. All that was left was the person they saved and the rest of the Minutemen with the Endbringer parahuman sticking around to maybe join the team. That was until Kyoshi, the new member, had suddenly told the team that there was a girl in trouble that needed to be saved from... The Rockers. Artificer hasn't heard much from those people, a gang that isn't really much into this territory but since they got this call the faction must be expanding into Denver! "Yeah... yeah! I'm sure we can do this. They are a low-tier gang so I think with everyone here it shouldn't be too hard to deal with some thugs."
@Lugubrious So, since I'm fighting a PC that dropped the game does this mean Tyrant is currently engaged in an NPC battle?
Exhale - Union Pacific Railroad


A door had soon begun to creep open, deep respirate breaths perpetrated through the strangely fresh air of the office signaling to the only other person in the room that their requested man had arrived to discuss some ideas. The person entering the office in full view was a cape, they were dressed quite peculiar compared to most everyday attire as they were sporting clothes that looked like they came straight out of some type of lab. As they took their first steps into the pristine area, the masked man took a few glances to understand that everything in the office had its designated place, the entire room actually looking like something from a display case rather than an office that someone had been working in for months on end. A few more steps in, the masked man soon began to focus his gaze upon the person that had called him up to his office. They seemed to be calmly working on whatever was on their desk, those gloved hands nimbly moving around the sparkling desk while the rest of the unattended contents while unused were also strangely crisp and clean. The man himself was also of similar attributes like the room, the tanned office worker in their white suit seemed almost too normal to be one of the up-and-coming crime bosses in the city.

It hasn't been long since he had been accepted within this crime-influenced business. It had been at most a couple of weeks within this new occupation yet the people treated him like he had been with them since the beginning of business. The entire process had been strange while entering this field of work, human interaction wasn't his strong suit after hiding away for a few years from the government, pooling his anger against the world as he practiced his newly-found ability. It was only until he couldn't bear the frustration of living his life in such a poor standard that he had decided to use this power to destroy the people that ruined his life and surely would end it if they got their hands on it as well. So, the man decided to use this supernatural power against his enemies, but battling against one of the strongest countries in the world by himself with little to no funds wasn't the brightest of ideas. So, through a little networking in the criminal underground that he had come to known from his years of skulking in the shadows, both with his knowledge and abilities managed to gather a few sources that would appreciate his services. Out of them, a certain business proprietor of the criminal organization making a name for themselves caught his attention as they both seemed to have the man-power and skill to be able to take this city as their own. The man thought this to be his best bet, a small skillful tight-knit group of professionals would beat going with gangbangers any day of the week for his plans. And so, after a bit of weeks going by, the man managed to make his way into this family and fast-forwarding into the future is where this person is where he is right now.

The masked man was now in a few feet away from his desk, standing straight with his clothes as clean as they could be before entering the spotless room. He looked towards his boss, calm, and soon after a few bits of silence the masked man finally spoke through with a strong, yet muffled voice. "Boss, 'Exhale' is here, what do you need of me?"
As Tyrant shifted his eyes from shadow to shadow, his muscles tensed up to react to any sort of odd movement, the ogre was simply waiting for the opponent to make their first strike. The Ogre found some hilarity from the College's rather coy nature from choosing their locations, being placed within the very same blood drenched arena that made him Tyrant was going to be his first battle in this soon to be blood drenched city-wide arena. Gripping ever so tightly to his Giant Eater, Tyrant had finally heard yet another subtle movement within the shadows with his entire mass shifting to the noise. And ever low-and-behold, within his ever-growing vision was soon set upon his soon-to-be enemy. Tyrant sized them up almost instantly as they surprisingly helped him with first revealing their position, walking into the dim light, and in a general sense was without bloodlust in their posture. They were obviously trying to be non-threatening, well, as non-threatening as one Jester could be with a ceaseless grin and clothing sporting several human organs. The clothing reminded him of an agent of chaos, nordic bastards that pillage and raid their money pots from time to time, and one of the armies of the Old World that threaten the regular quota of wartime and bloodshed. Tyrant still eyed him with suspicion, his muscles were tensed up for a beat down, but within his knowledge this Jester wasn't within the atrium with the rest of the opponents which meant it was some type of monster if that wasn't obvious by their appearance. So, Tyrant simply watched as the Jester monster spoke with an eerie sing-song voice.

"You, Fool, while I see that you aren't one of the contestants in this tournament of the strong. You still dare tell the Tyrant what to do with his time, and have the gall to threaten a giant like me?" The Tyrant said, his booming voice echoing across the torn down Maw-Pit. The both of them eyed each other down, the tension within the air high as the Tyrant flex his fingers around the bone of an extinct giant race as the Jester playfully wielded their knives. Only a few more tense moments passed between the two before the Tyrant made his first move against the Jester as his muscles began to form into a... slab-full grin.

A hearty laugh soon escaped from his greased lips, his fat folds giggling with the consistency of gelatin with the air being cleared up from the near deadly battle. A few more seconds of this laughter soon brought the Tyrant, raising his Giant Eater to rest upon his shoulder as his other hand started to scratch what was left of his neck. "Fool, I see that you are not here to fight. Whatever you may be, while you smell and look delicious, I'll see to it that we fight on a later date for I have another fight waiting for me and I need all my strength to assure a complete stomp with a gory feast. I best hope you don't reveal yourself like this once again, for if you do I'll splatter you in this bloodied hall without another thought." With a toothy grin on his face, the Tyrant passed by the Jester with his long strided walk towards the ladder. As the ogre sheathed his Giant Eater, his Sound Eater clanking against the club, he placed his grubby hand onto the large ladder with a firm grip. "You best not die before I come back down, it'd be a shame for your flesh to go to waste," Tyrant remarked, the ogre finally climbing up ladder towards the upper lands of the city.
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