[center][h3]Tyrant[/h3]
Location: Echo of the Maw-pit
[@The Wild West][/center]

The conqueror's challenge, roared out into the murky darkness, echoed magnificently but soon fell to silence.  His ears, focused to detect any threat until his eye's adjusted, picked up the patter of booted feet.  Into his sphere of vision, peeling off from a section of wall, came a humanoid shape whose clothes made for a silhouette both unusual and eerie to one of less powerful will than the Tyrant.  This previously unseen intruder's illogical course of action -to stride forward at an nonthreatening pace rather than spring some sneak attack- most likely precluded the possibility of a preemptive strike from the ogre, allowing it to proceed unhindered closer to the light that streamed down from above to spatter in the cavern's center.  After a moment, the sun's radiance illuminated him, and at once the reason behind his lack of tact and strange outline became apparent: he was a [url=http://pre06.deviantart.net/c6b1/th/pre/i/2016/354/b/b/jovial_impostor_by_halycon450-dasb2ik.jpg]Jester[/url], all done up in motley of unidentifiable texture and composition.

Not unlike the announcer that Tyrant had yet to meet, this stranger's face, too, appeared to be locked in a ceaseless grin.  However, a second glance at his getup could only bring up more questions; the cloth of his frilled color twisted like the fronds of some fleshy plant, his ribbed shirt resembled coral, and the eyes sewn into the cloth of his baggy pantaloons almost seemed mobile in the less-than-perfect light.  The jester turned his head to the side in the manner of a curious dog, balancing knives on his fingertips with the disarming poise of a performer, not an assassin.  When he spoke, his voice was a singsong that sounded hollow through his unmoving mouth.  

"̷Ţhou must p̴ardo̸n ̵m͡y ͜wo̶eful͏ ̸k͝n҉owl͝ed͞ge͟, sir!̸
M͢y͘ a̸im͏ ̕waś ̸finding t͟hòs͝e wh̡o ̧cam͝e̴ b́ęf̛ore͢.͜"͢ 

He flicked a knife into the air, caught it between two fingers, and used it as a pointer to indicate the glowing city far, far below.  His empty gaze, if eyes he did possess, did not leave Tyrant's brutish face.  

"W͞i̕t͡ḩ ̕ţh̢ee I͜ ̨ḩa͜v͝e no̢ q̵ua͝l̀ms̕. T̸hòu ͠art o҉ne c҉a̷l̕l̵ed̢
to ͢f͟igh͞t,̶ ́yȩt ̢I̡ ̷ám ́not ̢ţhi҉ne fòe. ͞Cl͟i͠mb u̷p
t͘hȩ ́t͟hi͞ņg ͡of s̵teel̕, s̸ùrèl̸y up above͠ t̨hi͟n̡e̛
èn̶e͝m͡y awa͏its͜.͟ I̵ ̵a͝s͢k͞ ̸bu̕ţ ͡one̷ thìn̶g͢ ̡of t̷h̷ee:̶
͠Wi̴th̛ ̧o̕ne͠s wh͏o b͢ea̴ŕ ͏th́is̵ ̧mąrk̡, do no̸t̡ t͘an̢gle͢.͡”

The light glimmered off a signet ring upon the jester's little finger.  If by now Tyrant could see sufficiently to discern its surface, he could make out the emblem of a clawed left hand with the pinky and index fingers extended overlaying a circle of feathers.  A moment passed before the [url=http://pre06.deviantart.net/c6b1/th/pre/i/2016/354/b/b/jovial_impostor_by_halycon450-dasb2ik.jpg]jester[/url] gave a thoughtful [i]hm[/i] and flipped his knife back over to balance precariously atop his thumb.

"̢I ̛s͠ens͝e ͠a̶n ̀od́d͘ ͟im̛p͢la҉cab̶i͏l͘i͞ty
We ͢d͢o҉ not ta͠ke ͟lig̸ḩt́ ̕unp҉ro̵voḱed a͜ttacķ
Th̛i̶s͏ ҉s̴q͞u͜a̵lid ho͞le͜--w̧ill ̸y̸ou҉ ̢ma̵ke i͟t y̵ǫur͡ ̸g̀ŕave?̷"

Without a breeze to disperse the dust, the cavern air was heavy, but the threat hanging in it made it heavier still.  An eight-foot-tall fool would have been imposing against anyone else, but compared to the Tyrant the jester was small.  Yet, the cockiness of his tone hinted at something more to him.  He stood fifty feet away from the ogre, closer to the edge of the abyss than to the metal bore from the surface.  Though his features didn't change, they seemed to echo the question: [i]what will it be?[/i]