Sorry if this isn't the place but just wondering if people on here are having a bet and if so, on who? Thanks!

October MWC Entry for [Old Traditions]
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Grunli walked down the ancient trail arm in arm with his grandfather. His brothers and sisters had shunned the activity long ago, but he enjoyed the time he got to spend with the old man. As they made the daily trek to the crumbling old ruin, his grandfather would regale him with all the ancient myths and legends of their people. It was a fascinating look into the superstitions and culture of generations long past, plus he enjoyed the sound of his Grandpa’s voice. Almost nobody believed in the Old Ways anymore. Modern science and technology had taken residence in the imaginations of the people and forced out such simple beliefs.
The old sagas were fanciful stories of primeval beings born of the night and giving laws, agriculture, and technology. Now, with the recent invention of the Steam Engine by the Engineer’s Guild, his people were entering into a fascinating new modern age. Just five years ago they had discovered how to generate and harness Electricity for lighting using water wheels. If you were lucky, you could even see one of the new lighter-than-air sky ships as it carried passengers from city to city. Progress and abundance were promised with every new discovery.
Yet, there was something captivating, and maybe even a little magical, about slowing down and taking the time to walk the beaten old path. The deep antiquity of the daily tradition infused a mysterious kind of meaning into it. For over three thousand years his people, and his family in particular, had performed the rituals of the Ou’ardayeen, the Ancient Ones. His grandfather was the last of an unbroken line of priests reaching all the way back to the construction of the temple.
“What are you thinking about in that sharp mind of yours, Grunli? You have been quiet the whole time and we are almost half way there.”
His head jerked a little as he glanced over to see his grandfather looking at him. Even though he was old, his eyes were as lively and sharp as when he was a young man.
“Oh, nothing really. I was just thinking of how much I enjoy walking the trail with you every day and hearing the old stories.”
The old man patted Grunli’s arm and said, “Yes, not many left to tell them these days. Maybe just me.”
They walked a few more steps before he continued, “The belief in the Ancient Ones is like this trail we walk. Back in my youth, it was a broad, and easy. Many trod it to honor the Old Ways. Now, the trail is nearly overgrown, and roots tangle my old feet if I go it alone. But, in spite of all that, the trail remains. It will remain, as long as someone is there to walk it. It is important we never lose the path.”
As if the old man planned it, and he probably did, they both stepped over a vine-like root crossing the trail.
“Grandpa, I have been accepted into the Technological Institute in Brodenia. I will be leaving next month.”
The old man stopped walking for a moment and looked at Grunli. For just a moment, he saw a vapor of sadness and regret cross the old man’s face, before it was replaced by a warm smile.
The elderly priest shook his arm and beamed, “That’s wonderful my boy, simply wonderful! You have been studying to get in for what, two years now?”
“Two and a half, yes. It is a great opportunity.”
“Indeed it is. I am very proud of you. And your parents, may they rest peacefully in the Ancient’s Embrace, would have been too. I am sure you will make a very fine engineer.”
He appreciated his grandfather’s words, but despite his optimism Grunli knew he had wounded the old man. Ever since his parents died in the accident, the family had grown apart. It was obvious that none of his siblings wanted to take on the mantle of being a Priest of the Old Ways. All it meant was a paltry stipend from the government covering the barest of essentials, and a commitment to a mythology becoming more irrelevant with each passing day.
“I’m sorry, Grandfather. I know you were hoping I would take your place as the priest one day. I just don’t think that is the life I want for myself.”
He felt the old man squeeze his arm tightly as he said, “There’s nothing you need to apologize for. It’s a new world out there, an exciting world. There is little a daily walk to an old pile of stones and reciting ancient incantations can do to compare with that. If you could humor an old man though, there is something I should show you at the temple today.”
“Sure, Grandpa. Of course.”
The path opened up and they saw the ancient building. It was a large pyramid made of huge grey cut masonry blocks set in a courtyard of stone. The jungle would have overtaken many of the old buildings but for Grandfather. There were neither intrusive vines crawling up the side of the structure, nor upstart weeds growing in the cracks of the pavers. The man had spent a lifetime carefully tending the area, and it was a testament to the seriousness with which he took his task as priest and caretaker.
As they entered the dark foyer, Grunli walked to a shelf and retrieved an oil lamp. Lighting it, they proceeded down the dark hallways to the central chamber.
He always liked this part. It felt like he was traveling back in time to descent into the dark interior. When he was younger, he thought if he strained hard enough he could hear the echoes of the ancient chants and rituals that once honored this place. Beautiful murals adorned the walls, still as vibrant as the day they were painted thanks to their never seeing the face of the sun.
Vivid images showing the digging of irrigation canals, the construction of buildings, and the formation of government were masterfully portrayed. As the visitor traveled down the hallway it told a story to them. Subtle textures in the walls made the images seem to move as the unsteady light of the lamp passed by.
When they reached the end of the hallway, above the door was the image of the Ou’ardayen. It had strange, long limbs and was surrounded by a pantheon of other celestial beings depicted in stylized animal motifs. In all the murals, the Ancient Ones were always represented as smaller than the rest, even than one of his own people.
He stood staring at the image and said, “It’s strange. I never thought about it before, but the Ancient Ones are always portrayed as being small. They are almost diminutive compared to the other divine beings, and even smaller than us. That doesn’t make much sense. I would think the artists would have portrayed them stronger, and larger.”
“Good!” his grandfather replied, “You see the lesson in it?”
Turning his head away from the image he said, “I’m afraid I don’t, Grandpa.”
Gesturing broadly at the hallway paintings the priest said, “These things were not done through strength of arm, but of mind. The Ancient Ones were not conquerors; they were teachers, instructing us in how to live better. They were powerful, to be sure, but that is not what made them mighty.”
Grunli nodded slightly and said, “You’ve told the story so many times I know it by heart. In the Before Times, famine, disease, and war plagued the land. Then, servants of the darkness came and enslaved the world. After uncounted centuries of captivity, our tears and cries went unanswered and we stopped asking. Hope was lost, until one night a new star was born to die in the constellation of the Huntress, Harlana. From the night sky came the Ou’ardayeen. They fell upon our enslavers and banished them from our lands. They then gave us the gifts of civilization and promised never to abandon us to the darkness again.”
His grandfather walked in front of him and faced him with a smile. The angle of the light highlighted his wrinkles and suddenly the old priest looked tired, and worn.
“You have learned the old truths well, my grandson. These words weren’t made for the dusty tomes of old libraries, to sit awaiting rediscovery by some future scholar so they might one day see the sun again. They were spoken in the beginning, and spoken they have remained since the beginning. At least I can go to my grave knowing these ancient truths have found a home in a living, breathing mind and heart.”
At this, the old man sat heavily on one of the stone benches, “Could you do me a favor?”
“Of course, what is it?”
Gesturing around the room, he said, “My knee has been acting up with the weather lately. Do you think you could perform the ritual today?”
Grunli was stunned. His grandfather had never asked him to do it before, despite years of sitting to the side on that very bench and watching.
“Are you sure? Isn’t that against the rules or something?”
At this the old man straightened up and said, “Oh, you may be right. Let me see if it is okay with the other priests.”
He looked to his left and then to his right asking, “Does anyone have a problem with my grandson performing the ritual today? If so, speak up.”
He waited for a moment, putting a hand to his ear and straining toward the darkness.
He lowered his hand and said, “Well, it looks like they aren’t answering. I’m pretty sure it’s because they’re all dead.”
He broke into a broad smile and started laughing. Grunli joined him and they filled the ancient hall with a rare sound in the dark and hallowed chamber.
When they were done, Grandfather waved a hand at the boy and said, “You have seen it so many times I bet you could do it blindfolded.”
Grunli, still recovering from the laughter, said, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“Care to make a wager on it?”
Grunli quirked his head to the side and asked, “A wager? What do you have to wager with? No offense Grandpa, but your stipend doesn’t even cover new sandals every season.”
The old priest leaned forward and said, “If you are able to do the ritual blindfolded, I will show you a part of the temple you have never seen before.”
He was skeptical at that offer. He had been to this temple every day with the old man for years. He was positive there was nowhere he hadn’t seen.
“Come on, there’s no such place. I know every square inch of this place and you know as much.”
Grandfather’s eyes sparkled now as he said, “I stand by my bet. Take it or leave it.”
The idea of seeing something new in the temple intrigued him, and he said, “Yeah, you have a bet.”
“Good, come over here then and let’s get started.”
They two of them moved over to the entry doorway, and the Priest took off the sash from around his waist and tied it around the head of the younger man.
“There you go,” Grandfather said, “No peeking now or the bet is off.”
Grunli felt a small thrill of excitement as he began.
From his position in the entry doorway, he took twelve steps forward and reached out his left hand to touch the Pillar of Self.
He solemnly recited the words of the ritual in the Ancient Tongue, “The knowledge of self begins the journey.”
He turned to his right and took three steps forward and placed his right hand on the Table of Light.
“May the Light of The Ancients guide my way.”
He took six steps backward, and spun to face the opposite direction to touch the Pedestal of Sight.
“With eyes unclouded, I see all things.”
Sidestepping to the left, he placed both hands on the Altar of War.
“To battle the darkness that threatens life.”
Taking three steps back and turning to the right, he put his right hand on the Podium of the Promise.
“With the help of the Ancients, shall I overcome all evil.”
He waited for a moment, and after a handful of seconds his grandfather began clapping.
“Well done! Well done indeed my boy!”
He reached up and took the blindfold off.
His grandfather walked over to him without any hint of pain in his knee and said, “Now, I have a debt to pay.”
The old priest guided him to one of the antechambers off the main hall. It was a map room he had been in countless times before. On the floor was a miniature representation of the main hall, down to the tiniest detail.
“Uh, Grandpa, I have been in here before.”
Smiling at him, the priest said, “Do you know the name of this room?”
“Yeah, it has the name inscribed above the doorway. This is the Keyless Gate.”
The priest smiled at him and said, “It gladdens my heart to know you remember what I taught you about the Old Tongue. What do you think it means?”
“Honestly, I always thought it was some kind of metaphor or something.”
He paused for a moment then continued, “My main memory of this place was when I was playing as a little boy in here and I broke the miniatures. I always appreciated you for fixing it and not telling mom and dad.”
Surprise shone clearly on Grandfather’s face as he asked, “What are you talking about?”
“You don’t remember? A whole bunch of them got pushed into the floor.”
“Not in the least, what are you talking-“
They were interrupted by a distant booming sound that echoed through the halls. They exchanged a glance and Grandfather said, “I think we need to see what that was. I will show you the rest tomorrow.”
Together they made their way out of the ancient structure and were soon back on the path.
Grunli asked as he assisted the older man, “Do you think one of the sky ships exploded?”
Looking aloft, Grandfather said, “No, what we heard was more like thunder, but the sky is clear today.”
They made their way toward the ancient stone house. The huge standing stone in the front of the house greeted them through the trees. It had carved into it the symbol of the Ou’ardayeen. It was nearly as old as the temple, and the house was apparently built not long after.
The structure was terribly out of date by modern standards. Even to the casual observer, however, the marks of improvements and renovations done over the ages could be seen. It was in a horrible state of disrepair; its only positive attributes were the high ceilings and exquisite antique stained glass windows. That didn’t really make up for the drawbacks, however.
About sixty years ago, the former High Priest, Grunli’s Great-grandfather, began a renovation project but ran out of money due to reductions in government support. The resulting repairs left many poorly patched, and very drafty, holes in the walls. Some of the larger ones you could even see daylight through. Grunli had promised himself he would make sure they were boarded up better before he left for the Institute.
There was a series of three more of the deep booming noises and when he went outside to investigate, he saw strange clouds in the sky. They went on for miles, and were as straight as an arrow. He had never seen anything like it before.
As he was wondering over them, a blast of wind nearly took him off his feet. He shut his eyes against the blowing dust and vegetation and pushed his hands tight against his ears. Despite his efforts, the sound was painfully loud.
He cracked his eyes open and through blurred vision saw a massive shadow descending out of the sky toward him. He struggled to his feet and began taking unsteady steps toward the door. As he reached it, his grandfather ushered him in and closed the door.
Even inside, they both had to shout to be heard.
Grandfather asked, “What did you see? What is happening?”
“Three clouds in the sky, straight, and extending nearly to the horizon.”
Grunli was taken aback at his grandpa’s reaction. He went pale, eyes opened wide, and nearly fell backward. If the dining table hadn’t been there to catch him he would have fallen.
“What is it Grandpa? What’s going on?”
The old man didn’t answer, but turned stiffly and walked over to a cabinet. It was the one that held the most ancient scrolls of their faith. Shaking, he withdrew a key he wore around his neck and attempted to fit it into the lock. Seeing he was unable, Grunli moved close and folded his hands around his grandfather’s and gently helped him open it. With trembling hands, the old man hastily examined and discarded scroll after scroll. The priceless texts started making pile on the floor as he searched.
About half of the scrolls were discarded when the rumbling sound outside stopped.
Grunli started moving to the door to take a look outside when Grandfather spat, “Wait! It’s not safe!”
He retreated back to stand next to his grandfather and asked, “What has you so scared Grandpa?”
He got no answer until the priest found the scroll he was so desperately searching for. It looked older than the others, if such a thing were possible. Taking it to the table, the old clergyman began tracing his finger on the page and reading words in a strange tongue barely over a whisper.
Suddenly stopping, he exclaimed, “Here! Here it is! ‘The Servants of Darkness descended on the earth. Their voices boomed like thunder and their passing rent the skies like a mighty beast.’”
The old man looked at Grunli and immediately the younger man understood: the ancient evil had returned.
“You must hide my boy, you are not safe. They will know I am a servant of the Ancient Ones, even now they are at the door.”
“What?”
“Here, hide here,” the old man said, pulling one of the looser wooden patches away from its place. Behind it was a half finished walkway to a long abandoned extension to the house.
“But what about you? There’s room for both of us, you can hide too.”
“Obey me now, my child. I am old, and no threat to them. If they find me maybe they will not search the house.”
Grunli protested and took his grandfather’s arm, “How can you know?”
The old man gently took his grandson’s hand off his arm and said, “Grunli, my wonderful boy, it has to be you. I am too old. Summoning the Ancients takes a knowledge of the Old Ways, and a member of our bloodline. That’s why it has always been passed from parent to child within our family. You and I are all that’s left, don’t you see? You alone of your generation have the tools to do what must be done. The mantle now passes to you.”
“But I don’t know how to do that. It has to be you. You are the High Priest. Your whole life you have been training for this.”
“No, my boy, my whole life I spent passing on my knowledge to someone worthy. I spent it preparing you. I am old and full of years. If my time has come, it will rest on you to save our people.”
With that, he pushed Grunli into the hollow and replaced the patch. There were strange whining noises outside followed by the sound of heavy footsteps on metal.
Moving to the opposite side of the room, Grandfather looked at the front door and spoke, “So much to tell you but so little time. In the Keyless Gate, you must push the symbols in the same order as-“
The door exploded inward showering the room with splinters. The shockwave from the burst threw Grandfather against the wal.. What Grunli saw next caused his blood to run cold.
There in the doorway was a creature standing head and shoulders above the tallest of his own people, and twice as wide. Muscles rippled under its skin as it stepped cautiously into the room. It had a thin coat of flat fur covering its whole body, rectangular ears high on its head, and a long, toothy snout. Perhaps most unsettling were its eyes. They were intelligent, and predatory. It wore some kind of metal armor, and carried an axe in one hand and what looked like some sort of firearm in the other. Seeing the old priest, it focused its attention on him.
Grunli was barely able to make out the speech of the creature. He recognized it as the Ancient Tongue, but its grammar and pronunciation were different than his grandfather taught him.
“Abomination of stone, outside you have. Old symbol of enemy. Where is enemy?”
Grandfather pushed off the wall and with an air of nobility Grunli had never seen from him answered in the Old Tongue, “I am the High Priest of the Ou’ardayeen. I serve the Old Ways. Go, return to the darkness, if you value your lives. If you remain, you will face destruction at the hands of the Mighty Ones.”
At the mention of the Ou’ardayeen, the creatures pointed ears flattened against its head and it darted cautious looks around the room.
It replied, “Tell me, you will, or death I will give you.”
Seeing its reaction to the words, Grandfather’s expression became resolved and he said, “The Ou’ardayeen taught us to use words of peace. Such words are our solution to conquer our strife. To defeat the Servants of Darkness, the sword is the key.”
A deep rumbling growl came from the creature and in one swift motion it stepped forward and slashed its axe through the last priest of the Old Ways. Grunli barely held back a cry as he watched the monster take something precious from him.
The creature leaned over the broken body of his Grandpa, and said, “Not words or sword can us defeat, old foolish one.”
Sorrow, anger, and terror all fought to gain control of him. Ultimately, terror won.
There, standing before him in the flesh, was one of the myths from the Before Times. When it began searching around the room, a fear older than antiquity, an echo of the forgotten horror born from centuries of slavery cried out for him to run away as fast as he could and never look back.
He waited, barely able to breathe as the monstrous hulk prowled around the room. It examined the holy artifacts collected there with the care of a barbarian. Pottery from ancient times was examined briefly then carelessly tossed aside to shatter on the intricate rugs covering the stone floor.
Eventually it was satisfied, or bored, enough to leave. Grunli heard the heavy footsteps on metal again, and soon the terrible rumble began. Dust and vegetation blew into the house through the shattered door. In less than a minute, the roar faded, and the wind subsided.
He never remembered how long he sat in that little hole, almost too scared to breathe. He was lost and outside of time. All he remembered later were the sounds of screaming and crying faintly filtered through the jungle, and the occasional deep rumble of an explosion.
When his senses returned, it was dark outside and the night chill was seeping into him. Slowly, he pushed the boards away and stepped into the room. There, on the floor, was the body of the man that raised him. Moonlight filtered through the stained glass and gently washed over him with pale motes of color. It was almost as if the sky itself wished to honor this fallen priest.
Grandfather’s face, even in death, held a noble and resolved expression. Grunli’s heart broke when he saw his Grandpa’s open eyes held none of the spark of life that burned so brightly in them just hours before. The sense of loss was crushing, and for a few long minutes all he could do was stand there under its weight. When he was able to move again, he reached down and closed the old man’s eyes and whispered the Prayer of the Departed over him. When he was finished, he reverently reached over and pulled one of the rugs over the body.
Then, he cried.
He cried deeply and bitterly, and when he was done, he stood and walked out of the door and made his way to the Temple Path.
Though it was dark, he needed no lamp. The moonlight filtering through the canopy above and his familiarity with the path meant his foot never faltered. When he reached the Temple, it was bathed in moonlight. The dark grey stones had lost the comfortable familiarity they possessed in sunlight. Now, the Temple looked like an alien, dangerous place.
He walked across the courtyard and into the entry foyer. Moving to the shelf with the lamp, he retrieved it and felt around for the sparker. He found it, and began trying to light the lamp. In the flashes of the sparks, he saw the wick had burned out. Shaking the lamp gently, he found there was also no oil left. He realized that in their haste to leave, neither of them had extinguished it.
They kept a little pair of scissors and a small bottle of lamp oil on the shelf and within moments he had located both. It was awkward in the dark to trim the wick and refill the lamp, but eventually he was walking down the ancient hallway, light in hand.
The murals held a new significance for him, as he saw them now not as myth or legend, but history. He recognized in the dark shadows of the depictions of the Before Times the forms of creatures he had now seen with his own eyes. As he hurried to the Main Hall, he wondered how many other truths were told in plain sight for any who had the eyes to see them.
The ominous sense of foreboding that struck him outside melted away as the lamp illuminated the familiar interior. Passing through the Main Hall to the antechambers, he soon stood facing the miniatures in the Keyless Gate room.
He remembered the last words his Grandfather spoke to him. He had been thinking of this since he left the house and he had an idea of what to do.
Reaching down, he pushed the tiny Pillar of Self down, and it slid into the floor. Next he moved his hand to push down on the Table of Light. Following the ritual, he pressed each of the pieces down and when he finished with the Podium of Promise, there was a loud clicking noise, followed by a loud, “Thunk” from the back wall. He picked up the lamp and moved to take a closer look.
There, he saw some of the stones were protruding out from the wall. Feeling around the edge, he found a groove carved into the side. Gripping the groove, he pulled and a section of the stone wall swung open to reveal a hidden passage beyond. How many times had he been in this room and had no idea what mysteries lay just steps away?
His thoughts were interrupted by an unfortunately familiar sound. The deep rumbling he had heard before was being filtered and echoed through the halls of the Temple.
He ran back to the entrance as fast as he could. Concerned about betraying his position, he shielded the lamp light with his hand as he moved toward the entrance to the Temple. About half way through the first tunnel with the mural, he placed the lamp on the ground and used the flicker of light to guide him the rest of the way.
When he arrived, he hid his body inside the doorway and leaned his head out to the side to get a good look at the cause of the noise. There, in the courtyard, was one of the great sky ships of the Servants of Darkness. It stood on three great legs, and large pods on its sides glowed with blue fire as the wind it produced scoured the stone.
The fire and sound died away, and a ramp opened from the bottom. Heavy footsteps banged against the metal as six of the Evil Ones he had seen before descended. In front of them, they harshly pushed one of his own people down the ramp.
“This, this is the place,” he stammered, pointing to the Temple.
The creatures spoke in the Ancient Tongue, “Speak sense, or death we will give.”
Realizing his mistake, the man again gestured at the Temple and said perhaps the only word from ancient times most people still knew, “Ou’ardayeen.”
The creatures looked at the temple, then began slowly and cautiously walking past the man toward the entrance.
The man dropped to his knees and his words were barely audible to Grunli, “Oh thank the Old Ones, they are going to let me live.”
As they walked, the last of the monsters to pass by casually reached out one of the strange firearms toward the man and a ball of what looked like green electricity leapt from the device. When it hit him, he screamed and writhed as green sparks danced over his body. When they faded, he fell to the side and made no more sound.
The creatures began making a strange, rhythmic sound. He soon realized it was laughter. He stood, peering, shocked at the casual way these creatures extinguished life.
As he was fighting revulsion, he was blinded by a brilliant beam of light. He closed his eyes and pulled his head back out of sight and blinked.
“Saw something, perhaps,” he heard one of the creatures say, “Cautious we walk.”
Moving as quickly as he could without making too much noise, he worked his way back through the tunnel and retrieved the lamp as he passed. He made a direct route to the Keyless Gate. As he entered the room, he hurried toward the secret door. In his haste and poor light, one of his feet caught on a miniature and he fell.
He hit the mural pieces and the lamp bounced out of his hand. It tumbled through the air, spilling the oil as it went, landing in the hallway on the other side of the door. The lamp rolled to a rest, barely touching the wick’s flame to the flammable liquid now covering a large area of the floor. The pool caught fire with a quiet, “Fwoompf,” and the room lit up with more light than it had possibly ever known.
He knew that was going to act like a beacon drawing them straight to him. If anyone were in the Main Hall looking down toward the path to the antechambers, it would be impossible to miss. When they got here, the pool of fire would point them directly into the mysterious hallway.
As he quickly stood up, he heard a loud click under him and looked down. The miniature pieces were returning to their positions. He heard the soft grating of stone and saw the door starting to close. Doing his best to avoid the pool of fire, he edged his way past the door just before it closed. He jumped over what remained of the pool of oil and retrieved the lamp. It would still burn for a little while, but he had minutes at most. After that, he would be alone in the dark with no knowledge of how to get out, if that were even still possible.
He made his way down the corridor and after a few steps the path began descending down. He followed it, and after one or two minutes it opened up to a huge room. His little circle of light faded to black after a few paces, and was unable to reach the far walls. Turning to look back at the entrance, he saw a large frieze on one of the wall to his left, and rough cut stone on the right.
Raising the lamp, he moved toward the carvings and saw it was a retelling of the story from the hallway at the beginning of the temple. As he followed along the wall, he saw it included more details of the story than he was familiar with. Also, the artistic style was more basic, and there were many deep shadows his tiny light could not penetrate.
Continuing, he saw the familiar tale of the Before Times, and the Servants of Darkness. He reached the corner of the room, and it turned squarely to the left. The story continued on that wall and he proceeded. He reached the next two corners and guessed he was in a large square room.
As he was moving along the wall opposite the doorway, he heard a loud banging sound echo faintly behind him. The Evil Ones had reached the Keyless Gate.
A fresh sense of resolve entered him and he moved faster across the wall, looking for a way out. The mural continued, and in this version spent much more time on the battle between the Ancient Ones and the Servants of Darkness. The battle raged across the wall until he got to a scene of armor-clad Ou’ardayeen plunging a sword into the heart of the last enemy.
More clangs echoed through the ancient structure as the monsters behind him tried to break down the door.
After the construction of the Temple, the wall went to the uncut stone. It didn’t make sense. Why would they stop the story there? Hurrying, he jogged until he reached another corner. That was the fourth corner, could there be only one entrance and exit to this room?
He made his way through the dark and was soon standing in front of the entry again. From here, the clanging noise was mixed with the sound of stone chunks falling on hard stone. They had broken through. The banging noise stopped and was replaced with scraping, clawing noises followed by more chunks of stone on floor.
Having searched all the walls to no avail, he thought there must be something in the room. Maybe there was a stairway?
Positioning himself at the door, he walked directly into the darkness, holding the lamp high. After a score of steps, he saw something glint in the dark ahead of him. Picking up his pace, he moved quickly forward.
Out of the darkness, the skeletal face of an Evil One emerged. Startled, he stopped and fell backwards onto the ground. Recovering his wits, he cautiously stepped forward and saw it wasn’t just the head, but an entire skeleton of one of the monsters. Protruding from its breastbone was something metallic. Stepping forward, he saw it was a sword. He had never seen metal like this before. The blade showed no signs of age, and shone like pure Silver.
He brought the light closer, and saw the blade penetrated all the way through the body and lodged in the spine of the beast. There was something familiar about the pose it was in.
Turning to the left, he nearly ran through the darkness and soon found himself in front of the carvings depicting the last enemy slain by the Ancient Ones. The position of the creature depicted on the wall matched the one on display in the center of the room. It must have been the same one.
Looking up at the mural he thought, What am I supposed to do now? If only Grandpa had been able to tell me the rest.
The painful memory of his grandfather’s last moments replayed in his mind, and a fresh wave of grief washed through him. He remembered the feeling of helplessness as they spoke in the Ancient Tongue. He thought about the old man’s final words, and how he said that the sword would defeat the Dark Ones.
Is that it? Does the sword have some special power?
He reached up and took hold of the hilt and slid it out of the skeleton. It came out easily and even cut through some of the bone with little more than its own weight.
As soon as it was free, the bones quivered and clattered to the ground. The sound echoed through the room. As it faded, he heard shouting coming from the hallway.
Holding up the lamp in one hand and the sword in the other, he turned to face the doorway and waited. He considered putting out the lamp so he could ambush them, but realized their lights were so powerful it wouldn’t make a difference. Plus, he was sure the flame would go out soon.
As he stood in tiny circle of light, he kept thinking about his Grandfather. He saw in his mind that final strike, the spray of blood, and then later those eyes devoid of life.
Grandfather, if only you had enough time to tell me what to do next.
He tried to push everything out of his mind, and focus on his Grandfather’s final words.
“To defeat the Servants of Darkness, the sword is the key.”
His eyes went wide as he realized his Grandfather did tell him.
He ran through the darkness to the battle scene. Holding the dwindling light up close to the carvings, he saw a thin hole in the chest of the last Dark One. Carefully, he placed the tip of the sword in. It fit perfectly. He pushed it into the wall.
When it reached the hilt, there was a sound like the chiming of a small ornamental church bell and the carved rock cracked. The wall shook, and what turned out to be a thin layer of rock and fell away from the wall to reveal massive metal doors. They began to swing open toward him and he took a few steps back. Dust filled the air and set him to coughing.
When it settled, he uncertainly stepped through the cloud into the doorway. Inside, dark metallic and glass surfaces reflected his tiny flame. Truly, this was something out of the ancient legends. Looking in, he felt something familiar about the place, though he knew that was impossible. Nobody had seen this place since the construction of the Temple.
Slowly, the light dwindled. He looked down at the lamp and saw the flame shrink until it vanished, leaving only red motes of smoldering wick in the darkness.
Then, he understood. Grandfather had even prepared him for this.
From his position in the doorway, he took twelve steps forward and reached out his left hand. He felt the cool smooth surface of glass, as he whispered in the Ancient Tongue, “The knowledge of self begins the journey.”
The panel lit up, and above his hand it showed a glowing outline of one of his people.
He turned to his right and took three steps forward and placed his right hand on a Table.
“May the Light of The Ancients guide my way.”
The room lit up with the radiance of the sun at mid day, dispelling the oppressive blackness. He immediately noticed there, in the center of the room, was a metallic statue of one of the Ou’ardayeen.
He took six steps backward, and spun to face the opposite direction and reached out a hand to touch another glass surface.
“With eyes unclouded, I see all things.”
The panel lit up and in the center of the room, hanging in the air like a cloud, appeared a large glowing blue sphere. It had shapes on it, and he recognized part of it as his homeland.
Sidestepping to the left, he leaned the sword against the table and placed both hands on it.
“To battle the darkness that threatens life.”
Around the sphere and on its surface, numerous red lights blinked to life.
He retrieved the sword and took three steps back and, turning to the right, he put his right hand on the final glass panel.
“With the help of the Ancients, shall I overcome all evil.”
The statue shimmered, and a slight ripple passed over it. Starting from the head and moving down, the metal surface turned to fine dust and began falling away to reveal the armored figure.
When the outer metallic shell was gone, the being it revealed dropped to a knee and Grunli could tell it was breathing heavily.
In his best Old Tongue he said, “I and my people are in danger. The Servants of the Darkness are close outside. Can you help us?”
The being slowly lifted its head to look at him. It had a glass visor over its face and even without seeing its eyes he knew it was studying him. Suddenly aware of what kind of presence he was in, the thought of not offending it came to mind. He dropped down to his knees and bowed low with his face to the ground.
“Forgive me. I mean no offense Mighty One. Please forgive any lack of formality.”
He heard the Ou’ardayeen walk slowly toward him. It reached down and took the sword with one hand, and his arm with the other, drawing both upward. It slid the sword into a sheath across its back. With its now free hand, it opened its visor and Grunli got a good look at it for the first time.
Dark brown skin and eyes looked back at him from inside the helmet.
“Don’t bow to me,” it said, “I am your friend, not your master.”
A noise outside made the Ancient look over Grunli’s shoulder.
It looked at him and he said, “The Evil Ones are here.”
The Ou’ardayeen’s eyes narrowed and it walked past him and drew its sword. Turning, Grunli saw it walk out into the darkness. Beams of light shone around the room and then focused on one spot. All he could see was multiple shadows of the Ancient being cast across the floor of the room as all the lights were aimed at it.
In a moment, the shadow was gone and a primal cry of fear and rage erupted from the Servants of Darkness. One by one, the beams of light shook, then projected at odd angles as the monsters holding them were slain. The sound of their strange weapons fire erupted and he saw some of the bolts speed across the room and impact the far walls and ceiling. The sound of shearing metal mixed with wet, splashing sounds echoed through the hall, soon to be overshadowed by agonized screams of pain.
Then, it all stopped. Grunli didn’t know what to do, so he just stood there. The sound of footsteps approached out of the darkness, and the Ancient stepped into the room. Hints of blood sprayed on its armor were all that indicated the carnage recently wrought.
It walked to Grunli and said, “You and your people will be safe again soon.”
“Truly, the legends of the Ou’ardayeen’s power were all true,” the young man exclaimed.
Turning to face him, the Ancient stared for a long moment.
Finally, it spoke, “What are the Ou’ardayeen?”
Pointing, the young man said, “You. You are the Ou’ardayeen.”
It cocked its head to one side and said, “My species is human, I don’t-
It paused then continued, “Oh, I understand.”
Grunli looked at it, confused, “What?”
“You’re saying it wrong. It’s pronounced, ‘The Guardian.’”

Where this tournament began.
If you're lost or wish to know more; Here's some extra info on our fighters provided by the NFC.
Where we left off: For every victory, there's an even greater consequence.
-
There was only one person among the crowd not applauding, not celebrating and not cheering.
Nelle had been trembling since she looked over the distorted form of Wendy and had barely calmed down now that things had settled.
Together, we looked at the descending screen showcasing the fight between Malphas and Zunkle, the countdown to their match and the title fight following it. There was a moment of silence before she put her hands on my arm, gripping the bicep tightly.
“We need to talk. I think it’s time to be honest about some things. Bring your equipment, even the music player. We'll need it.”
I stared back and went to open my mouth, but thought better of it and nodded as we took off for her intended destination, darting & weaving through the crowds as deftly as we could. Nelle refused to let go of my arm the entire time. Though if it was out of necessity or fear, I couldn’t tell you.
Passing through the third ring of the venue, something bumped into us and sent me hurtling to the ground, smacking my skull on the concrete and struggling to get up amid swathes of eager audience members looking to make a bet, grab a snack or discuss tactics. Each time I tried to get up, eyes blurry and ears ringing, something would knock me back over.
A gruff hand took me by the shirt and hoisted me effortlessly to my feet, dusting me off. “It’s gonna happen soon, Sal. Protect ‘em, like you promised.” A cocky, brash voice called from behind me as a furry head nuzzled against my hand for the briefest of moments. Before I could turn back, the figure pushed me forward, through the crowd and towards Nelle, who’d only just spotted me.
“Up here, we’ve got the area to ourselves. Just the three of us.” She muttered, leading me to a wall adjacent to the pit, an embedded ladder leading to a hatch above.
“Three? You mean the guy and his dog who just picked me up?” I asked, following her up the steps and the promise of fresh air filling me with vigour. She twitched when I said that, frozen in place as if stabbed with a dagger. Without looking back, she shook her head.
“No, not them… You’ll see.”
With that, she hoisted the hatch open and climbed up, helping me to my feet as we traversed the concrete and over to a pair of sofas and a coffee table opposite the edge of the building. The stars above rhythmic in their blinking, constellations I couldn’t recognise swirling in the inky blackness, promising secrets untold if I just sat down to decipher them. Across from the building, we could see a pair of lit up billboard’s, one highlighting the: "Natural beauty and mystique of Sturgeon: the nations black pearl!" The latter offering a stay at the eponymous Hotel Inertia, the pair of finely crafted Olive Tree doors sporting an ouroboros serpent across the length of them, a radiant woman standing in front. Middle-aged, a shaven black head and a trim frame adorned by a blue suit with not a single button out of place, smiling wide with the motto of the establishment beneath her.
“The Hotel Inertia; A room for Sturgeon’s finest. A floor for every occasion.”
I felt something the longer I stared at the billboard. Prying my eyes away felt like the smart thing to do as I followed Nelle over to the couches. She propped her feet up and winced, wounds still tender from her brush with death.
“It always finds a way to keep me going, though I’d hoped I’d never have to have this conversation. Least of all with you…” She pinched her nose and let out a bitter chuckle.
“Fate is cruel, isn’t it, Sal?”
She gestured for me to sit down and mechanically, as if I was awaiting grim news, I did so. Setting up the recording equipment and hitting play, I fell back into my usual role as a broadcaster.
I spoke my mind.
“Madame Lockwood… Nelle… what is it you need to tell me? So much of my time here has been spent in secrecy, voices calling from the shadows and people who know ME but I don't know them. I... I need some answers. I need them from you." I asked, keeping it blunt was the best course of action to begin with. Open questions allowed for better answers. She sighed and without looking at me, began talking, her lip quivering.
“We talked about the monk & the nun before, the idea that there is a constant cycle of birth, pursuit, struggle, death, regret and forget. I’m not going to insult your intelligence by stating that it's JUST a story, we both know it’s not. But since this began, both the story and this…”
She gestured around her, signalling the NFC tournament.
“You’ve been kept in the dark about the various roles at work. Some of those threads will unravel themselves before the night is done. Some will be obvious and some will… inevitably hurt. But, the one thread I suspect you wouldn’t know of without intervention, is the one I hold onto…”
She reached over the table and grabbed the music player, scrolling to her chosen playlist and hitting play.
Slowly, she pulled out a locket from around her neck alongside the ear she’d severed from the lycanthrope, placing it on the table with a small thud.
“This is the ear of Buck Nasty McGraw… Sir Simon “Buck Nasty” McGraw, to be specific… He got the two tiered moniker from taking out his first abomination… a Lycanthrope that’d been eating the denizens of a local indigenous village. It bucked and kicked around while he frantically held on, laughing heartily like there was nowhere else he’d rather be… from that day on, he was Buck Nasty McGraw. Never a dull moment or cruel bone in his body, he’d only take down what was a threat.” She smiled wistfully, eyes glazed over with years of pain and regret. “He was my confidant, my friend and my everything. Far away from the eyes of Sturgeon in another world entirely, we hunted down a rogue group of individuals seeking a power no-one should ever wish to behold. They’d housed themselves in the lives of unsuspecting townsfolk, whispering in their ear to do unspeakable things and bring them items to cause unmitigated disasters. When the elder reached out, he called them “The Order of 8” but they had a more direct titling…”
She looked over as the hatch swung open and a battered, tired Wendy hoisted herself up and walked over, arm still bandaged up and face-mask once again in its rightful place as she finished Nelle’s sentence.
“The Unbounded. The same scourge that dogged us in The Hotel. They were called “The Order of the 8th floor” before we came to know them intimately.”
There was a chill that ran through my bones, the very phrase standing my hairs on end, and made the surroundings feel like they rattled for a moment. Nelle nodded.
“Buck and I went in there to stop them. Buck was special, you see. He had an innate ability to see what nobody else could, to befriend any creature that had the capacity to love and to identify the weaknesses of those who would seek to do us harm. But in this particular instance, it was my specialities that were needed. In the life before I became The Compendium Keeper, I was known as something else. A Sin Eater. The last Sin Eater, to be exact.”
She took pause and passed the locket over, the faded image of a younger Nelle in her 20s, dreads tied back in a bun with dimples in her cheeks as she smiled ear to ear. A dashing man in his 30s winking at the camera with his muscular arm draped over her, adorned in tattoos and a thick black beard, sporting a stetson and a gold tooth that shone brightly even from the sepia toned photo, his ears adorned with piercings and a stretched lobe on the right. She directed my attention to the severed Lycanthrope ear on the table. Adorned with piercings and a small hole at the bottom of the skin.
“We went in there and began extracting them one by one, before something happened and we were left with a choice; Buck could give up me or something just as precious… he chose the latter, leaving me with a world devoid of him and a new purpose: Seek out the evil that subjected him to a fate worse than death, help end the cycle and guide the next group in their time of need. Such is my role. Buck lost me, but you can still save Nora.”
I looked at her dumbfounded, wondering how on earth I fit into any of this.
“Nora Zayne does not need saving from anyone, she’s clearly a beast who knows how to fight. I’m just an ordinary guy.”
She smiled at me, clearly in a place of far greater understanding than I was, but without that air of superiority. She simply offered warmth when she spoke.
“She knows as well as you do how strong she is, but that isn’t the kind of saving I’m referring to. She will need you at a critical moment and how you respond will change everything afterwards.” She sighs and tucks the ear away, keeping the locket out. “And as for you being ordinary? Right now, yes. But much like Buck, Sully, Sigurd & Sema before you, you’ll become something wonderful. When the time is right. She left you a note, didn't she?”
I blinked, thinking back to the note I'd seen on top of The Compendium right before Nelle's fight:
"Sal,
This tournament is coming to a close and you’re going to see things you don’t want to. Things that will hurt. But if you believe in anything while you’re here, make it this:
You are only as powerless as you let yourself feel. You are only as in control as you allow yourself to be. You can be the background noise in a busy room or the light that punctures the darkness.
But either way, you’ll always be my friend.
- N”
"You mean... that wasn't..." I breathed, but she shushed me softly. She leaned forward and kissed my forehead, a motherly affection running through me as she cupped my cheek and patted it gently before walking off to the hatch.
“In the right light, you even remind me of him…” She grinned and I saw years peel away in the wake of her joy. I just nodded, still dumbfounded. “I’d best get our notes prepared for the exhibition match and have a word with our eponymous Nora. You still have the interview of a lifetime, right?”
Turning back, Wendy was already splayed out on the couch, arm draped over her eyes and one leg crossed at the knee bouncing in rhythm.
“A promise is a promise, Sal. I’m sure all those at home will get a kick outta this…” She took her good arm away from her face for just a moment, long enough to give the Hotel Inertia billboard the finger. “Fuckin’ hellhole, I wonder how the fuck it’s even still standing?”
“So you were a resident in this Hotel? What happened? How did you get from there to… here?” I took out a notepad and began hastily jotting down shorthand, something I’d learned to do from my younger days as a fight analyst on live broadcasts. Certainly not for the bum-fights, regrettable as those were to be a part of.
“Resident isn’t the right word. I wouldn’t have even said I was from Sturgeon prior to meeting the gang, because to me: Sturgeon didn’t exist. Every floor in that fuckin’ structure is its own reality. Its own world. One floor, where we met our friend Robin, contained an entire tent community basking in the sickening sounds of a grand gazebo atop the hill that made them all docile, sickly and weak. When we stopped the sound, they began tearing each other apart. The last thing we saw was the elders skull being caved in as the doors closed.” She sat up and leaned forward, putting a finger up as if to stop me from asking something.
“To be clear: The elevator stopped inside the tip of a rooftop terrace, not unlike the one that we have here with the hatch. There was NOTHING above but black skies, the expanse beyond this floor was endless. And yet… we ascended when we got back in, not descended. That entire Hotel houses things you could never dream of. Including where I came from, a cul-de-sac of domesticated monsters…”
For the first time, I saw a deep pain in Wendy, even more pronounced than the initial anger after seeing Nelle fall. She was shaking, fists balled up so tight that the fingers cut into the palms, eyes alight with passion.
“I don’t remember being a child. I just remember waking up in the middle of this prissy, far too perfect cul-de-sac with monsters pretending they weren’t monsters. That bitch over there on the billboard picked me up, my body just filled with the kind of impending doom you feel when you see someone driving dangerously on the road in front of you or walking down a street at night and the only other guy on the footpath has his hood up and is making a beeline for you… just absolute fucking dread. As she knocked on the door of the people that would come to be my “adopted family”, I remember her looking down at me with wide eyes, tiny pupils and a grin that looked like it was on tenterhooks. She said: “you’ll be a fantastic offering for the others” before everything faded to black…"
She shivered and I felt the same disgust and dread she felt. The idea of being somewhere you didn't recognise, the last face you see that of utter malice and sinister intent emanating from their being. I'd been there...
"Some time later, I found a crazy guy named Sigurd laying in a crumpled heap by the elevator doors. I tended to him and he got to see firsthand what role I played in the hungry family… that of their endless meal. I don’t know what it was about him, but something in the way he behaved, spoke to his friends or maybe his will to survive… but I swear to god that it was the first time I truly woke up.”
She ran a hand through her hair, breathing out dramatically and sniffing.
“Man, if and when I see him again, I need to thank him properly. He helped me see something in myself that I knew was always there but had been too stuck in my own head to realise…”
“Freedom” I asked, tapping my pen against the notepad. She shook her head.
“Value."
There was a silence and I grew a stronger respect for her, not even realising the importance of self worth in the strong until that very moment.
"After that, we acquired some new friends; one in the town of sickly sounds, a guy in a lone radio tower, and so it went. We’d eventually take on The Order Of The 8th Floor and all their horrors, before we ended up reuniting with The Concierge on the top floor, worse for wear and with a couple of losses in our wake. When all was said and done, we had her beat and Sigurd walked over to put an end to things. I’ll never forget how she smiled when the lightning struck or the last thing she ever said…”
The wind picked up and I felt a bitter snap behind it, either my empathy was through the roof and I could feel what Wendy felt… or something ominous was in the air.
“One down. Seven to go.” She finished, getting up and shaking her head. “I’m only just now understanding what she meant, but that question would lead me to rumours about the NFC and their tournaments. I decided to make myself a target for the upcoming Openweight tournament and seek out more answers, maybe get my wish along the way if I happened to win… of course, that didn’t happen and it leads me to a question for you, Sal.” She leaned down and looked me dead in the eyes, that mask more intimidating up close, power radiating from every pore of her skin.
“Who made me feral? Who took out Qwong Xiao? Who is pulling the strings and why? You don’t see it as convenient that Eustace De Kolta, well known Wendigo hater, ends up facing a version of me that couldn’t see sense? That former challenger Nora Zayne is in there too?”
“They’re setting up for something more…” I breathed, the tapping of my pen stopping. “But what?”
“All I know is I’ll be on hand to help, however I can. Something tells me that we’re all gonna be needed when this is over. Beyond that, I have a feeling this exhibition match is going to be… interesting.” She cracked her back before walking off, holding up a lazy thumbs up with her good arm. “Thanks Sal, takes a skilled guy to do what you do and to let me run my mouth like that, hope it was worth it!”
“I hope you see Sigurd again, Wendy. I’m sure he’d be proud of what you’ve done here. I know I am.” I blurted out, almost on command. She stopped in her tracks and didn’t turn back, but I saw her hand shaking as she put it back in her pocket.
“Hell, now you know my wish. Good luck, Sal. You’ll need it.”
-
Sitting there and gathering my notes, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed in the moment, as I had done so many times throughout this tournament. It’s not so much that the world revolves around me, because it doesn’t, but to even consider I have my own part to play in this is a lot to absorb for someone who is used to calling the action from the safety of a booth or behind a computer screen.
Why someone as decidedly dull and boring as me has a place here among killers is beyond me, but the more time passes, the more I feel that surge of emotion and desire to do SOMETHING.No matter what happens next, I have to do my part. I just wish I knew what that was.
Picking up my things, I realised Nelle had left her locket and, not wanting it to get stolen or lost, I picked it up.
A flash of memories hit me like a freight train. Holding onto a great beast as a younger Nelle screamed in fear, a conversation shrouded in darkness with a pair of sunken eyes floating in front of Nelle as I stood there, powerless. A deal with a gold toothed shadow, the handshake that sent shockwaves through my body…
“Hurts, doesn’t it, Sal?”
Whipping round, the voice seemed to come from all directions and I immediately recognised it as that of Moirah, one of the sisters. A tapping that sounded as if it was pounding on my eardrums reverberating around us, the thick air ripe with the smell of sulphur.
“All those places, all those memories jostling for position. Like a mass in your skull… It builds strength, malice and accumulates the experiences you build over time before one day bursting and taking you with it. Life isn’t like a box of chocolates… no, it’s like an aneurysm; You never know which moment will be your last.”
Hands gripped my shoulders and thick yellow nails dug into the soft flesh, pulling up at my tendons and moving me without my consent. My arms reaching out for the locket, Moirah giggling in my ear and Clodagh’s incessant banging making my eyes throb.
“We are tired of waiting. Tired of constant mis-steps by you and those associated. If you cannot willingly understand the truth, we shall force it out of you. There is too much at stake for failure.”
Hands grasp around the locket and the images begin to burn into my skull; Downing a drink that burns my insides. A lightning strike surging through my body. A gunshot to the head. A plane crash. A white snake curled in my arms as I slip away. The tear-stained face of someone I know strangling me as I helplessly struggle and buck my hips for dear life. Everything ebbs out of me and my knees buckle to the floor. All I see is red, my nose dripping blood and the world fading into nothing more than a pink hue.
“She… she needs me.” I gurgle, the hands pushing down on me with extreme force, the tapping evolving into a thunderous chorus of aggression at my resistance.
“She needs nothing from you. She only needs to play her part and that will be achieved with or without you. You are inconsequential. You are moments from fulfilling your purpose.”
More flashes as a deep shade of red fills my peripheral vision. A young woman laying in her apartment, blood everywhere and an empty crib. The sounds of despair as the woman on the other end of a phone is beaten to death. Nelle crouched over a body and sobbing… Nora. Nora’s warm face as she hugs me before her last fight in the NFC. Why is she hugging me?
“It’ll be fine. Trust me. I’ll win it for both of us.”
Something in me snapped. A protective instinct I didn’t know I had. Pulling at the hands and feeling the pain surge through my chest, I didn’t care in that moment, I just knew I had to get up.
“No. I have to… I’m all she has. We bring each other strength… you can’t stop that!” My body moved before I gave the command. My left leg flew out from under me and drove itself upwards, front of the foot colliding with the face of Moirah behind me. Bone fragments and blood accompanying a loud groan as I felt my body freed and the thunderous booming returning to a tap. Not waiting for a retaliation, I swiped the locket into my bag with my sleeve and dashed for the hatch, nearly tumbling down the stairs as I hit the bottom, breathing heavily.
What the fuck did I just do?
I took my time walking back to the venue, nobody giving me any trouble or even a dirty look for once. If anything, people seemed to go out of their way to avoid even looking at me. Which, after what had transpired previously, was welcomed.
I sat down just as the 2 minute bell called out and the exhibition match was announced.
This was going to be bloody.
-
As the lights dimmed, Alduin walked over to me, cape billowing behind her and a manic grin on her face as a cinderblock hand slapped my back and damn near winded me.
“Sal! Glad I caught ya, loving the musical vibes you’ve been putting out there. SO much so, that I have a few… additions for ya. I mentioned to Madame Lockwood there n’ she said they were already on the device. Damned if I know how… technology ain’t one of my friends. But, if ya could play these during those ever so pivotal moments in the upcoming fight and during mine & Nora’s entrance, I’d be pretty damn grateful… Oh, speaking of: since I’m the one fighting, I’m gonna need ya to do the announcing. That won’t be a problem, will it?” Her eye flashed, and the eyepatch rumbled, the exhaustion of what transpired out there suddenly setting in, making me feel decidedly ordinary as I nodded.
“You got it, Commissioner. Whatever you need.” I croaked, fumbling with my bag as everything spilled onto the table, Alduin laughing as she walked off.
“That’s why I like ya, Sal. You just do it. You’re certainly a changed man! Ha!” She stretched as she sauntered off to get the microphone. I guess even warming up wouldn’t stop her from showmanship.
I reached out for the locket when Nelle grabbed it first, as if she knew I shouldn’t touch it. Whisking up my notes with far quicker hands and placing it on the table, she thanked me before silently pointing to the recording material as the lights dimmed.
“Fight fans, before we reach the conclusion of this night under the NFC banner, we have two very special matches for you. Our first is one forged in blood and spilled just as much. It’ll be a battle between Father and Son as the former attempts to help the latter see the error of his ways and perhaps seek a little justice for the lost lives here tonight. Without further ado, we throw it over to Commissioner Alduin Von Trier for the official introductions.”
I pointed to Alduin, who grabbed the mic with gusto and began her spiel.
“Without further do, let’s get this blood feud on the road! In the corner to my left: He is the Jersey Devil, our resident chef and the Father of violence… Put your hands together for Zunk!”
I looked down at him. He was in a tank top with fighter shorts, his gargantuan frame only accentuated without the chef’s outfit and apron. His usually pleasant expression replace with a cold indifference as he stared a hole in the opposite direction. Towards his opponent.
“And in the corner to my right: He was a standout fighter in this year’s tournament and one that brought us violence at the very start of the proceedings, so it’s only right we end with him. He was formally paired with his entourage, Mr. Stares, but he’s now back in his usual form; The Black Dog Of Jersey: Malphas!”
She gave both an eager look before leaping out of dodge and to the safety of her perch as she walked off, understandably to train, but throwing her hand in the air and bellowing “BEGIN!” For the match to start.
NFC EXHIBITION MATCH: “JERSEY DEVIL” ZUNKLE VS “PUPPET MASTER” MALPHAS
Malphas, unchanged from the last time we saw him, took furtive steps forward, cocking his head to the side as he grinned, the nails in his lips now nothing more than bloodied holes which stained his teeth.
“Well pops, we knew this was gonna happen at some point. To be the baddest, you have to take out the best and the weakest. You taught me that.” Zunk stood his ground, unflinching in his resolve and unwilling to move.
“I didn’t teach you a damn thing. I tried to channel your anger and hatred into something productive. I thought you’d grow out of it.” He clenched his fist. “But you only got worse.”
-THUMP-
Without warning, Zunk struck himself square in the stomach with all his might, his eyes widening in pain and a wheeze leaving his lungs as Malphas continued to walk him down.
“Well, you didn’t teach me directly… But I sought out info, determined to find out what was so WRONG with me. Until I was found, reborn, and told the most important piece of wisdom I’d ever get. Do you know what that was, Dad?” He twitched his fingers and Zunk pulled his head back, fingers pulling on the hair so tight it threatened to pull out thick black tufts. Malphas leaned forward, inches away from his father’s bloodied face.
“The sins of the father will always impact on the son. But you can so easily reverse that, if you’re willing and open to doing what needs to be done.”
He curled his hand; the fingers twisting and Zunk’s body doing as he obeyed. His arm volleying back for another unprotected shot at his face, but his head also being forced forward by the other hand in a macabre torture technique.
“He’s using him as a goddamn punching bag… literally a human puppet. Is there anything he can do, Nelle?” I look over to her, the book is closed, and she’s resting her elbows on it, hands clasped and over her mouth.
“Not if he wants to keep what little of his soul he has left, Sal.” She replied, as if speaking from experience. I felt a lump in my throat as I looked back, Malphas laughing giddily at the prolonged beating his Father was sustaining.
“Marvellous, now let’s try taking out that tongue, no more bullshit spewed from your mouth!” He clapped his hands, observing the battered father figure and framing him like he’d done with Rex. “Hmm… or maybe we should just take the head entirely? Hard to say when you’re having so much fun!”“There’s really no hope for you, is there, boy? If I brought you back to your Mother… what would she think of you now?” Zunk called through gritted teeth and smatterings of blood. Malphas just laughed.
“She’d probably wonder how she came back to life and why she’s nothing more than a bag of bones! Still, better than being a sack of meat, right? I’d have probably had to cut her up too. So safety the or-“
A punch flew from Zunk that instead of hitting his own face would connect with the stomach of his son. The force of which sent him flying back, feet dragging through the pit floor and dropping him to his knees.
“Hey, Sal. There’s a song of mine on there, think you could do me a solid and uhh… y’know? Oh and don’t put it on an odd number.” He didn’t even look at me, instead muttering the prime numbers in quick succession under his breath.
Sure enough, I scrolled down and saw a single song under his name.
It simply said; “Blizzard.”
The deep bass rang out and Zunk cracked his neck as he walked towards Malphas. Who, to his credit, was up to one knee and one hand on his stomach, the other twisting in front of him.
Again, Zunk saw resistance, his right arm striking at him repeatedly and smashing his ears, jaw and nose. But each shot just made him more determined to walk forward, spitting out blood on the fourth punch.
Malphas backs off and places his hands and legs against the wall, a cornered and frightened animal as Zunk walks him down, determined.
“You always thought The Jersey Devil was some goat-like creature of the night, didn’t you? I never told you that it was always just me… a part of me that I kept firmly locked away and promised to never touch again when I met your mother. After we had you, bad people came after me. Very, very bad people. They got to her while I was away, made you watch what they did to her. Christ, you were four…”
Zunk stopped in front of his son, pity across his face.
“I went after them, did what any husband and father would do, but worse… Still, you changed so much after that. But I believe there’s still hope for you. Some glimmer of what your mother was in there. You just need to take my hand and we can put this behind us, a few broken teeth, and some fractured ribs are nothing to a family like ours.”
He outstretched his hand and Nelle shook her head in dismay.
Malphas stretched his own out and for a moment, I thought we’d see our first good ending to a bout.
To my horror and disgust, I was wrong.
Malphas leaned forward and sank his teeth into Zunk’s hand, biting at the fingers until he tore off one of the digits at the mid-point, the blood spraying across his face and the canvas. He spat the finger out and coated his hand in it, giggling as he crawled along the wall and away from Zunk.
“There is only ONE family and it sure as hell isn’t yours. With your blood on MY hands, I can show you just how good I am at control. As I did with Zanaya, Rex and the rest. I am DAMN good at carrying out my master’s will, and as long as I get to carve people up, I’ll keep on doing it!” He held his hand up and Zunk’s face grew vacant, his mouth hung open and he bore the same expression the others had done before him.
This was the prelude to the end.
“I can’t believe this. Of all the sick things I’ve seen in this tournament, biting the literal hand that feeds has got to be one of the worst! Malphas should be ashamed, but given his prior antics, I don’t think that’s possible! Get up, Zunk! Move for god’s sake!” I pleaded, my hands shaking, and the fear of losing someone else with no means to save them filled me with such dread, but there was nothing I could do.
Nelle didn’t move from her analytical stance and the crowd bayed for blood as the techno music swelled.
Malphas walked over with confidence, pulling a weapon from his back and brandishing it playfully as he got closer. He showed no hesitation as he drove the blade deep into Zunk’s chest, dark blood running down his torso to the delight of his son.
“Guess blood ties do run deep, huh?” He looked at the trail and laughed. “Best of luck, dad. I’ll keep your legacy going and improve on it!” He patted the shoulder of his still standing but vacant father as he began to walk back, never seeing the surging knee coming for his temple as he turned.
Malphas flew through the air and crumpled into a heap on the ground as Zunk lowered his leg, sadness and disappointment riddled across his face.
Malphas tried to scramble, but Zunk was quick. He picked him up by the head, his gargantuan hands cupping the younger man in them as if holding a coconut. He slammed him down once to pacify him before hurling him towards the centre of the pit, no longer able to crawl away.
Every step Zunk took bore the weight of what he was about to do, echoing the gravity of the words when he spoke:
“As of late, you’ve been doing terrible things. Things I cannot forgive, forget or ignore.”
“Please… dad, I’m sorry! I’ll… I’ll leave the services of my masters... of the order and I’ll stop what I’m doing… I’ll change. I swear! Oh god… please, help! I deserve better, I did what was asked of me! Are ANY of you gonna help me?!” He snivelled and darted frantic eyes around the venue, but none would intervene as his father honed in like a lion ready to make the kill.
“There is no other avenue left for you, Malphas. But, let me offer you one final piece of fatherly advice…”
Zunk raises his fist, his entire body twisting back with the force he’s generating and his eyes glowing like that of the Jersey Devil he is synonymous for. Malphas’ whimpering a mere backdrop to the swelling beat and his father’s chilling final words.
“Leaving this world is not as scary as it seems.”
With that, he drove the fist down onto Malphas’ face with such force that the venue shook. When the dust cleared, there was a divot left where Malphas’ head resided, the decapitation marks on his neck clear as day, something resembling scorch marks across the neck lining as Zunk raised his bloodied fist from the hole and walked back without a single word.
It was over.
I looked at the broken body of a man who had spent this entire tournament dismantling the enemy, pulling their strings and making sure at least three families were torn apart by his insatiable lust for destruction. But my mind wasn’t on that, nor was it on what was going through the mind of a man who had just rekindled the flame of his old violent moniker to take out his son. Hell, for a moment, it wasn’t even on the upcoming title fight that would determine everything.
It was on what he said in those final moments of bravado that stuck with me.
The claims of pulling the strings, making sure everything went to plan for his “masters”.
But before I could ask Nelle what she thought, I was handed a slip of paper that contained the details for the bout. Standard things like the fighters names, monikers and the match stipulations.
There were two things on that slip of paper that caused me to break out in a sweat and my heart to jump into my throat and stay there. Just two simple sentences changed my world and raised the stakes of the title fight exponentially so.
The match type? 3 Stages of Hell. First to 2 victories wins the belt.
The names? NFC Champion Von Trier and Sabotta.
Nora Sabotta.

EDIT: Thanks for everyone's advice, I'm now doing really well. I wanna leave some tips that you guys gave me that have worked really well for me personally, I chose not to go the cheese the game with smithing route because I wanna rp a little bit and struggle for my rise. It might not be optimal, but at least I was able to reach vasselhood very quickly:
Tournaments, they vary in difficulty from place to place. Aserai tournaments are relatively easy because you'll almost always have a shield or be on a horse. Battanian tournaments I've found are pretty hard because there's often bouts that involve 2 handed weapons with no shields, if you aren't good at blocking with no shield you might have a hard time.
Bet on yourself in every round. I think the payouts go down if you go undefeated, so don't savescum too much and take a loss here and there if you can afford it.
Right at the beginning, if you just go city to city, finding tournaments and winning, you'll be racking up cash, items you can sell for usually more than 1k or keep if its handy armour, mount, or weapon. You'll also be getting levels in combat skills, and gaining enough renown that you'll quickly level your clan up.
BUY HORSES, not sumpters or mules, they slow you down. Get proper horses, like 10-15 of them, so you can move quickly. If you find you're too slow to catch enemies on the map then buy more horses.
Then you can become a mercenary, just go around slapping down bandits, get money from that for your merc contract, get involved in large allied armies, but save before you do because the AI can put you and everyone else right in the middle of beatdown town sometimes. They don't always make the brightest choices. I don't savescum too much but in this game savescumming from time to time is just gonna save you some unnecessary frustration.
As you make more money, get a caravan or workshop. Caravans are more lucrative but riskier, sometimes they'll bring in big cash, sometimes they'll earn a pittance. If you don't let a companion who has good tactics or scouting lead the caravan, it'll be susceptible to attack and you'll lose it. The companion will throw their hands up and go drink somewhere, you'll have to run around trying to find them. It's annoying, just choose someone with "The Gold" suffix. That works well for me I find.
I went with workshops first, I read some guides on them. I won't explain it all here, but just buy them in a city deep inside your factions territory that isn't likely to change hands. What good you want to produce depends on a number of factors, just look it up and have a quick read. They make less but are more stable than caravans. I got these first despite the advice of others and it worked okay for me.
Become a vassal, play the game. If at any point money starts running low because your profits fluctuate, just take down large parties of bandits while doing the ol' tourney circuit.
I just got Bannerlord, I used to play warband and also fire and sword (even though it wasn't great, there just wasn't any other decent pike and shot era games back then) I wasn't bad at them and could progress fairly easily. But that was like a decade ago. I'm pretty sure I'm just playing Bannderlord wrong lol. Maybe someone has some advice. Maybe someone's been at the same point and broken through.
In Bannerlord, I am yet to even break 3,000 gold. I try trading, running down bandits, I even had a "decent" early game Aserai army with palace guards and master archers at one point. All it takes is one unlucky run in with desert bandits or looters and I'm right back at square one. If I upgrade my army, the army eats into my trade profits and I can't make money, I'm stuck constantly running from city to city making trades for meager profits, and the minute I go out to fight, it takes me several days to catch some looters, meanwhile my army of like 23 dudes is snatching my gold and eating my food.
It typically goes one of several ways: I finally catch some looters, but an aserai army also joins in with like 100 soldiers and snatches all the loot, leaving me with 20 gold worth of crappy clothes. Maybe a prisoner worth 5gp if they feel extra generous that day. If that doesn't happen I'm chasing down a band of 8 looters, and they round a corner, I finally catch them and then bam, 20 desert bandits join the battle and now I get dragged through the mud by their cavalry.
In every case, I end up back at square one. I thought things were finally turning around when I made 2,800 denars today, but that lasted me no time at all, the local banditry made sure of that.
Doing quests yields the same result, I often fail them and end up making everyone hate my guts. I've figured out there's a few easy ones I can usually do like selling artisan goods, but those aren't that profitable as they make me a criminal. I get rinsed by poachers, I get crushed by bandits, even gangers in alleyways ruin my day every single time.
I feel like I'm stuck in an early game hell. I'm a veteran of brutal and unfair games with long grinds like Kenshi, so if this is just how the game is, so be it, so long as maybe someday I'll finally have a kingdom. But at this point it just really feels like I'm playing entirely incorrectly.
When I look up other people stuck in "early game hell" they all at least have managed to rack up 10k or more to buy caravans and so on, but I can't even get close to that point. I've made several new starts, experimenting with different skills that I hoped would be useful. I think this time I might have neglected medical, but I have good trade, one hand, leadership, steward, riding, and scouting. If there's one good thing to come of all the beat downs, it's that my character is steadily gaining levels in skills at least.
I don't know what helpful information I can give. I'm playing as Aserai culture, and mostly sticking to the south as I want to play as a desert faction and maybe eventually conquer outwards from there by joining the Aserai kingdoms or making my own. It's what appeals to me most about the game, but maybe that's the wrong approach. Maybe I do just suck and need to stick at it and git gud.
Tl;dr can't get more than 3000 gold and often find myself getting rinsed and ending up with 0. Stuck in small trade hell. Any advice?

Hello!
I hope every single one of you is having a good week, and if not, I hope it gets better.
This is a chunky card, not too huge but getting there. Some excellent fights but also a whole lot of debuts and a whole lot of new faces which makes predicting kinda difficult. But with that aside, lets get down and dirty.
I'm thinking of adding some more stats, but i've yet to decide what kind of stats. I'm not a numbers guy but I know a lot of you are, so let me know what you're most interested in, in terms of stats.
(c) - Champ
(D) - Debut
FLS - Fight Lose Streak
FWS - Fight Win Streak
NS - No Streak
(#x) - Rank in Division
Lets go!
Prelims
Flyweight
Tagir Ulanbekov (#1 Russia) (D) (12-1-0, 3 FWS) v Bruno Silva (10-5-2, 2 FLS) - A very interesting debuting fighter coming from Russia, I fully expect some form of fireworks in this fight. Ulanbekov is coming in as a hot prospect, and for very good reasons, he is incredibly fast to work on the ground, if he sees a potential choke or a submission, he goes for it, and it’s not like he’s choking out cans or anything, he’s facing opponents who have 13 wins and 3 losses, people who have a legitimate career in MMA, and that alone makes me think this is the perfect time to debut in the UFC, we need to beef up the Flyweight division, and this is a perfect addition to the roster. Silva is also a profoundly good grappler, with a heavy focus on takedowns and taking control on the ground, it’s unfortunate that in both of his UFC fights, he got absolutely dominated by both Dvorak and Taha. I don’t see Silva getting the upper hand on the ground in this bout. If he manages to land a takedown on Ulanbekov, he needs to keep active or he’s probably going to get caught into a limb lock or an arm triangle because Ulanbekov is a very long and lanky fighter and so it would be easier for him to slip in an arm for a choke or set up a triangle off the back. But i’m no psychic so I really don’t know how this fight will go. I got Ulanbekov on this one though, an incredibly interesting debutant.
Ulanbekov via Sub R1
Women’s Bantamweight
Tracy Cortez (7-1-0, 7 FWS) v Stephanie Egger (D) (5-1-0, 3 FWS) - I don’t really think there’s much going on in this fight. Cortez is a grinder. She doesn’t have the cleanest striking in the game, she might look incredibly wild, but all of that is to set up a takedown or initiate a clinch situation in which she can somewhat easily control her opponent. Cortez is physically very strong and that no doubt helps with her takedown and wrestling. That’s probably going to be her gameplan coming into this fight, get in close with a flurry then initiate a clinch. I don’t expect a finish. Egger is a very new fighter and I haven’t watched a lot of her videos yet, but from what I could see from two years ago, her striking was much like a teenagers bedroom, messy and depressing, it was very slow, and although it did open up her opponent to a takedown, that’s not gonna work in the UFC and I hope she’s refined her striking capabilities since then, i’m sure she has. I have Cortez on this one. I’m not gonna go into specifics into what she’s better at because frankly I have no clue, but in my opinion she’s got this.
Cortez via UD
Featherweight
Giga Chikadze (10-2-0, 5 FWS) v Omar Morales (10-0-0, 10 FWS) - I believe Morales is dropping down to 145 so that will be interesting. Chikadze is a very proficient kickboxer who doesn’t rely on overwhelming his opponent with vicious and wild combos, he is a patient fighter who waits for a perfect opening. He is great defensively but also very choosy, you’ll notice his diversity in targets, he’ll never throw the same thing twice. If there is one thing that i’m sure will land, it’s his kicks, his front kick and leg kicks are accurate and hit with impact. He is a very good kickboxer, plain and simple, and that’s already a big selling point for me. Morales is an undefeated prospect who has proven to use twice in the Octagon that his striking is excellent and can not be underestimated. His methodical movements and feints to read his opponent is imperative to his gameplan and he has such a diverse range of striking, his step in head kick not only covers a huge distance, but it lands, even if its on the glove its enough to back up his opponent and keep them guessing. This is a fun match up. Both fighters are at their prime and frankly i’m not sure who is going to win this one, we have yet to see Morales at Featherweight so already that makes me wonder how drained he will be, if he will be. I’m going with Chikadze on this one. He’s going to open up with strong leg kicks and negate Omars ability to explode and cover huge distances.
Chikadze via UD
Bantamweight
Ali AlQaisi (8-4-0, NS) v Tony Kelley (6-2-0, NS) - This is a fun one. AlQaisi is a fairly well rounded fighter who had a very competitive fight against Irwin Rivera. There was a lot of energy and cardio used during this fight, so many explosive moves and not all of them were effective, so it’s very hard to tell where he is on a skill level. He still seems like a developing fighter so there is no doubt still a lot for him to work on, with that said though, he is powerful, his right hand, when it lands, it lands hard, nut Rivera isn’t exactly known for moving away from danger, and i suppose in this case, Kelley isn’t either. Kelley fought a wild and exciting fight against Kamaka earlier this year, it was the first fight of the event and both fighters stepped up to the occasion and made every fight fan tune in. It was a beautiful and violent fight, but it did make me wonder how far Kelley will go in the UFC. His defences aren’t exactly there, he covers up but he doesn’t move, he clashes and somewhat hopes to be the one standing after the end of those exchanges. He is a very fast and wild striker and he is no doubt going to make a solid career in the UFC, but he needs to be patient, especially in this fight where AlQaisi can explode and land some solid takedowns, takedowns which from what I can see, are an issue for Kelley. I should also note that Kelley is moving down a weight class, which means a larger weight cut and potentially a more drained Kelley. If he can safely cut weight and maintain his power and speed, then i’m all for Kelley winning this one. It’s just a difficult fight to predict overall.
Kelley via KO R3
Middleweight
Impa Kasanganay (8-0-0, 8 FWS) v Joaquin Buckley (10-3-0, NS) - Kasanganay has a very interesting stance when he fights, he stays quite low and loads up his punches, so expect him to come out low and looking for an overhand or a left-right hook combo. He doesn’t exactly have much head movement or raise any defenses, he’s more of a pressure fighter, someone who is constantly moving forward, eating shots only to throw them back with extra spice. From what I could see in his fight against Maki Pitolo, he loves his left hook to the head, followed by a straight right to the body, then finishing with a left hook to the head, so his ability to change target mid combo will be troublesome for any opponent because either way, he’s gonna land something, and that’s exactly why he stays so low when he moves around, such explosive and accurate movements. REally my biggest worry with Kasanganay is his absorption rate, the dudes a punch sponge, and in terms of longevity, it ain't the right way to fight, especially against a walking cloud like Buckley. Buckley has a heavy reliance on power and forward momentum. He will hop into range and launch an overhand left, a dangerous move, but as we saw with his fight against Holland, all it takes is one well placed shot and Buckley backs off. I don’t know who is going to win the exchanges coming into this particular fight since both fighters tend to explode in bursts, and with Impas tendency not to move his head, he’s a target waiting to get hit. I can only hope that Impa has implemented some form of head movement drills during his camp or else Buckley will find his mark and shut down Impa. This is an interesting fight simply because I can see it going either way, but I like what I see from Impa.
Kasanganay via KO R3
Heavyweight
Rodrigo Nascimento (8-0-0, 8 FWS) v Chris Daukaus (9-3-0, 2 FWS) - Nascimento is a submission artist who has completely shut down Don’tale Mayes, despite being the smaller fighter, it was very clear that Nascimento has worked incredibly hard to master his ground game and his takedown proficiency. What I loved about Nascimento was his attitude, he didn’t back down from the strikes of Mayes, and just stayed in his face. Now, this is heavyweights so its very clear that anyone at heavyweight can strike and has knockout capabilities, but not everyone has the masterful ground game like Nascimento. I’m not saying he’s Werdum levels of great on the ground, but he’s still a huge threat to pretty much any heavyweight that is allergic to any form of ground based fighting. Daukaus from what I can see, has pretty decent striking and great timing, especially with that right hand. He is not technical by any means, but he is also fairly young in terms of experience and knowledge and i’m sure that over time he will improve. I just don’t see Daukaus getting the upper hand here, the threat of the takedown will always be on Daukaus’s mind, and when fighters think one dimensionally like that “I gotta stop the takedown, i can’t get to the floor” they eat knuckles. I feel like Nascimento will overload the senses of Daukaus and end up taking the fight to the ground, maybe even rock him by faking a takedown.
Nascimento via Sub R2
Middleweight
Tom Breese (11-2-0, NS) v KB Bhullar (D) (8-0-0, 8 FWS) - These are some very tall Middleweights. Breese in his early career was a very formidable submission artist, and over time has racked up quite the resume of knockouts as well. In fact his only decision win in the UFC was against Keita Nakamura back in forever ago. Breese has faced some incredibly tough opponents and I truly believe that experience and his level of competition far exceeds that of the newcomer, no disrespect to Bhullar. Breese hasn’t been the most active fighter on the roster, in fact his last win was against Dan Kelly back in 2018. Bhullar is a tall, lanky middleweight who is on a fairly decent undefeated streak, the only thing that makes me mildly disappointed in his record, is the fact the he hasn’t fought the best of the best. Sure, he’s fought experienced fighters, but none on the level of Breese, so I feel like this will be a relatively large step and a challenging one at that. If Sherdog isn’t trippin on something, then I believe he also has a fight scheduled next month for DWCS, so he’s certainly getting his name out there. Bhullar seems fairly well rounded, with a variety of wins on his record, but he’s got quite a challenge ahead of him and I don’t see him winning very easily. Breese is a challenging fighter for anyone and it’s gonna be an interesting, competitive fight. I got Breese on this one.
Breese via KO R2
Main Card
Featherweight
Youssef Zalal (10-2-0, 4 FWS) v Ilia Topuria (D) (8-0-0, 8 FWS) - An interesting start to the main card. Zalal has slowly become a fighter that I have come to respect. He may not have any finishes in the UFC but he always puts on a spectacular performance and always introduces his opponents to the nasty style he has. He is incredibly fluid on the feet, and if you watched his last fight against Barrett a few weeks ago, you’ll know exactly why I love him so much, that spinning back kick in the first round? Cleaner than lemon pledge. Zalal is a perfect example of a striking prodigy that still has years ahead of him to learn and develop and that’s exactly why he’s going to go very far in the UFC. His footwork is impeccable and allows him to subtly switch stance and mask his incoming attacks with just a whole lot of feints and movement. Everything you love about kickboxing or striking based martial arts, you’ll love about Zalal. He has also won all 3 of his UFC fights this year, so I don’t see any slowing down from him. Topuria is on a very strong streak at the moment and by the looks of things is a substantial danger on the ground, 7 submission victories makes it pretty clear to me that he’s most comfortable on the ground and will most likely look to avoid any striking exchanges when fighting Zalal. Now, Topuria is a somewhat late replacement, but that shouldn’t matter too much because it gave both fighters a little over a week to prepare for the upcoming bout, which is much better than the typical covid-cancellations in which its an overnight change where both fighters think “who da fook is that guy”. This is an interesting fight, and i’ve got my eyes on Zalal winning this one, the year 2020 is made for Zalal, and he has certainly proven to us time and time again that he’s the next gen fighter that everyone wants to see.
Zalal via UD
Heavyweight
Tom Aspinall (8-2-0, 4 FWS) v Alan Baudot (D) (8-1-0, 2 FWS) - I fucking love this. Aspinall had his octagon debut a few weeks ago and he absolutely blew me away with his outstanding performance against Jake Collier. A knee to the body, followed by a one two combo within the span of 1.5 seconds, this dude isn’t a normal fat blob of a heavyweight that we’re used to seeing. He’s very fast, very powerful, and fucking huge. Now, I don’t want to overhype him because anything can happen and if there’s one thing that I saw that might be an issue for Aspinall, that’s his head movement, he might have too much of a reliance on counters and offensive, and not enough on avoidance and defense. But that’s just a quick ass analysis from a very short fight. Aspinall is someone you simply cannot miss, and that’s not a double entendre. Baudot is a debuting fighter coming from a strong record of 7 knockouts, although some of his opponents raise some sort of a red flag, especially when he fought some can called Yuto Nakajima. Baudot seems to be given a jump start and an easy path to the harder fights, but that’s not gonna fly in the UFC and when you have someone like Aspinall on the other side of the Octagon, you’re going to have to let everything fly loose. I don’t really know what Baudot has to offer that Aspinall hasn’t already seen. Shit i’m just pretty excited to see Aspinall again so soon. Ride this train whilst you can guys.
Aspinall via KO R1
Middleweight
Markus Perez (12-3-0, NS) v Drecis Du Plessis (#1 South Africa) (14-2-0, 2 FWS) - I have no idea what to think of this one. Perez has been semi-active during his UFC career, and with a rough loss against Wellington Turman, it’s hard for me to tell where he is at mentally and physically. His last win way back when Cejudo just fought Dillashaw… Feel old yet? Perez is probably going to be fighting differently, he was a proficient grappler and a wild striker, but perhaps throughout the past year or so he’s calmed down a bit and perhaps found himself a proper style that doesn’t tax on the cardio or is more effective. Now onto the interesting debuting fighter in Du Plessis. Du Plessis has a 100% finish rate and at a young age of 26 he isn’t showing signs of fatigue, he has been a dominant fighter throughout his whole career, 14 finishes, 16 including losses, but all that means is he’s never had a fight go the distance, and I doubt that’ll be the case here. Not exactly a deep dive analysis I know, but I think Du Plessis is going to show us something spectacular.
Du Plessis via KO R2
Heavyweight
Ben Rothwell (38-12-0, 2 FWS) v Marcin Tybura (#14) (19-6-0, 2 FWS) - This is gonna be a brawl. Rothwell is one of the most experienced heavyweights in the UFC, he’s up there amongst the likes of Overeem and Aleksei Oleinik. His experience is no doubt a key advantage coming into this fight, but he also has disgusting power. Especially when he aims for the nuts. The Skyscraper lost his soul that day. Rothwell is a powerhouse and whilst he doesn’t necessarily throw volume, he does have excellent timing with his strikes, he’s methodical and waits for the perfect time to land an overhand or a quick little combo. The only way I see him not really succeeding is on the ground, and Tybura is an incredible grappler, speaking of which… Tybura is on a relatively decent streak at the moment, granted it’s against relatively forgotten fighters, but that aside, he’s facing a legend and long standing heavy hitter, and I can say with some confidence that he’s going to be looking to grapple, and grapple a lot, we’ll see some long, drawn out ground game stuff going on, both fighters will probably be exhausted by Round 3, but in my opinion, Tybura will probably get the most advantage coming into this fight, because as I said very early on in this prediction post, every heavyweight can swing and land, but not every heavyweight has excellent wrestling capabilities. Tybura is that rare fighter that has the ability to simply take the fight to the ground. Tybura is I believe an underdog so if you want money, this feels like the safest underdog of the card to bet on. I got Tybura on this one. Feel free to bet on Rothwell because he has stupid power, but Tybura in my opinion has the tools.
Tybura via Sub R2
Co-Main Event
Featherweight
Edson Barboza (20-9-0, 3 FLS) v Makwan Amirkhani (16-4-0, NS) - Does Barboza need any introduction? If you’re new to this sport, then you’re about to watch one of the most insane kick-based strikers in the history of the UFC. The power and speed, and the sheer simplicity of Barboza's kicks still baffle me, how can something so simple look so incredible. It’s like a pizza, all it has is cheese, tomato sauce and maybe pepperoni, but holy hell it looks divine. That’s essentially Barboza’s kicks, it’s hella pizza. Now, unfortunately, Barboza is on a rough losing streak, but they’re also wins in a sense because those fights were absolute bangers and he stood his ground and fought like a champ throughout all three fights. Barboza seems to not do very well on his back pedal and I feel like Amirkhani will make use of that. If Amirkhani throws hands whilst coming forward, that negates the kicks of Barboza completely, you can’t kick and step backwards, you don’t only lose balance, but you also lose significant power, so even if you do land, nothing really big happens. Amirkhani is a very well rounded fighter with a very heavy focus on grappling, there really hasn’t been a fight where he doesn’t take down his opponent and mauls them completely. He isn’t the most active striker but that doesn’t mean he won’t strike. He needs to set up those takedowns somehow, and I know trading with Barboza isn’t a smart idea, but you can be smart about setting up a double leg, heck he could even catch a kick if he’s fast enough, either way, this feels like a traditional grappler v striker bout and it’s a perfect co-main. I don’t know who I have coming into this one. I am a huge, huge Barboza fan and personally I feel like he’s got this.
Barboza via KO R2
Main Event
Bantamweight
Marlon Moraes (#3) (23-6-1, NS) v Cory Sandhagen (#4) (12-2-0, NS) - A great main event. Moraes needs no introduction, he has been on the top of the division for a very long time, and for a very good reason. Moraes is a magnificent striker, with sniper-like accuracy and he has such grace when he throws combinations. He also has significant power and he’s dangerous at all ranges, but especially in the clinch… His knees are masterful, it’s clear that it’s his main weapon because his clinch hold is strong enough to land knee, after knee, after knee, without a break. Moraes is a savage, plain and simple. He’s coming into this with some anger though because despite winning against Aldo, Aldo fought for the belt before him, it makes zero sense and it was a controversial decision. Sandhagen was on the receiving end of an incredibly quick submission by Aljamain Sterling, and we didn’t get a chance to see Sandhagens incredibly slick kickboxing. Sandhagen also has a very methodical movement style, a lot of switches that is very fast, and he just constantly changes, always changing his stance, giving his opponent different looks and with a wide variety of attacks, it’s clear that Sandhagen will be a challenge for anyone willing to trade, which is perhaps why Aljamain went to grapple instantly. I don’t know who is actually going to win this one. I’m 51/49 leaning on Moraes simply because of his experience and that clinch game could easily shut down the distance striking of Sandhagen, but on the other hand, Sandhagen will probably stick to a certain range to avoid any attempts at a clinch from Moraes. Sandhagen is coming in at a large physical advantage, with a huge reach advantage that could compliment his kicks and his ability to weave in and out of danger effortlessly. This is a great fight, and a fight like this isn’t easy to predict. Probably an unpopular pick but let’s do this.
Sandhagen via KO R3
Holy shit that's longer than I expected. I forgot to do a word count prior to copy and pasting from my drive.
Anyway, there it is!
I hope that there are no cancellations, because what happens with cancellations post-prediction is that the fight is null and void unfortunately, because there's just not enough time to re-write stuff. I gotta have my days off too ya know.
Anyway, Feel free to start a discussion down below, more than happy for a nice chat :)
If you would like to follow me on twitter, you can find me @Slayer_Tip or if you want, add me on discord and we can have a super friendly chat about all things MMA: Slayertip#7013
Until then, it's been a pleasure writing for you lovely people, take care of yourselves :)
o/

Patch: 3.04

Intro (pros, cons)

Pros:

• He’s the only support that can consistently take and win poke fights with DPS
• His ult counters a lot of different types of aggression
• He has good throughput healing
• Deep Roots can shut down a lot of different characters, punishes wide peeking, and forces Resilience buys from the other team

Cons:

• His range is limited, which means he requires a team to play around him and a team comp to be drafted around him
• He falls off harder late game than most supports
• Has less focused healing

Ability overview

Axe: Throw an axe every second, base 300, scales up to 750
Cripple: 400 damage, cripples for 1s
Vine: Attach to and pull yourself towards a location or ally
Blossom: Burst heal yourself and allies near you for 800 (game incorrectly says it's 750, it was buffed in PTS and they forgot to change it)
Ult: Heal yourself and allies for 2500hps for 4s
Passive: heal yourself and allies near you for 80hps

Talents

• Rampant blooming: Blossom heals an extra 100hps over 3s (total of 300)
• Ferocity: Increase damage scaling by 60% (max damage 750-> 1020)
• Deep Roots: Cripple now roots instead and chains between enemies and deployables

Cripple: They can’t use movement abilities, but can still walk around
Root: They can’t use movement abilities and cannot move

Card tierlist

• S: Verdant Expanse, Chop Down, Fatalis
• A: Perennial, Unstoppable
• B: Barkskin, Adrenaline,
• C: Gentle Breeze, Force of Nature, Chopper, Pick Up, Overgrowth, Vine Grasp
• D: Heavenly Agility, Nature’s Quickness, Rebound

S tier (mandatory)
Verdant Expanse Only way to actually have enough range to heal 2 lanes at once. Frees up your positioning a bit and helps you take advantage of damage scaling. Necessary at a high level.
Chop Down This card really increases how threating you are and how often you’re getting resets (which means more healing).
Fatalis Currently the most efficient way to reduce the cooldown of Bloosom when combined with Chop Down. Does not trigger off shields or deployables. Only works off players. Only works off first target, so if you hit a deployable then bounce to a player, it will not proc. Doesn't stack.
A tier (very good)
Perennial A straight reduction of your most important cooldown is never going to be bad. Slightly outclassed by Chop Down + Fatalis, but there’s no reason you can’t run both.
Unstoppable Grover’s best way to survive things. Surviving things is good.
B tier (good)
Barkskin Another very good way to survive things. Usually outclassed by Unstoppable.
Adrenaline Not my personal favourite, I feel like it’s a bit of a win more card, but it’s good at snowballing and chaining kills.
C tier (not good)
Gentle Breeze Not a great card. Was good in the past when it was 8% per level, it worked well with deathball comps because it boosted the entire team’s mobility and rotations, but Deep Roots does effectively the same thing by preventing the enemy from moving. Not necessary and requires sacrificing healing output. Doesn’t affect the Grover.
Force of Nature A fine way to survive but outclassed by Barkskin and Unstoppable.
Pick Up Cool idea, not useful. Certainly not useful often enough to warrant sacrifice healing for it.
Overgrowth Fine card, but Grover has enough survivability without it so it’s not worth sacrificing healing for it.
Vine Grasp Good one pointer. Personal preference. There is a vine tech that makes this card obsolete though.
D tier (bad)
Nature’s Quickness It’s only a 2s speed boost. Unnecessary and outclassed by Vine Grasp.
Heavenly Agility Second worst way to survive. Outclassed. There’s a fun meme build that has this card at 5 as well as Force of Nature 5 though.
Rebound Worst way to survive. Outclassed.
My build (Deep Roots, main healer):

• Chop Down 5
• Fatalis 4
• Verdant Expanse 4
• Perennial 1
• Unstoppable 1

Items

• S: Chronos, Morale Boost
• A: Haven/Blast Shields, Resilience
• B: Illuminate, Master Riding, Wrecker, Nimble
• C: Kill to Heal, Life Rip, Cauterize, Bulldozer
• Unbuyable: deft hands

Start Chronos, unless into Maelstrom Grohk, then start Morale Boost so you can match his first ult and counter it, or if you’re on Ice Mines, start Master Riding so you can consistently get dismounts through the gate. Finish Chronos, buying Morale Boost if you need ult quickly for a mid or buying blue items if you need those.
Note: This guide was written when Axe didn’t scale on all shields, so Wrecker might be more viable now.

Advanced ability overview

Axe:
Spamming corners is a great way to farm damage and keep squishies out of the fight.
The axe has mid air inaccuracy, but the axes are so big it doesn’t even matter. You can literally shoot around corners with these things if you aim close enough to a wall.
It’s much better than to poke out DPS and try to take them out of the fight than to try and burn tanks.
Cripple:
You can technically combo Cripple with Axe by doing LMB + RMB one after the other quickly but not immediately. However, don’t do this if you’re looking for roots. Just go for the root right away, it’s quicker, and sometimes that half second matters.
In most builds, Cripple’s use is Rooting and proccing Fatalis. It’s a balance of how much value you want to get out of rooting people vs always having the right rotations on your heals and resets. Usually, big roots are better.
Blossom:
Waiting for Cauterize is big. Tanks would much rather get out, get healed, and go back in than stay in and be low.
Since the range of your passive is the same as Blossom (even with Verdant Expanse) you can use it to judge when people are in your range.
Generally, you want to be in range of your team so you can heal them, but still as far away as possible to get more damage on your Axes.
Vine:
There is currently a “tech” that Grover has. It’s been confirmed by HiRez that it is not a bug and is perfectly okay to use, even in pro games. I made a 4-minute-long video (https://youtu.be/nNpkpOpKs0k) about it that explains it in more detail, but here’s the short version:

• Look at somewhere close to you
• Press vine
• Look somewhere far away that you want to vine to while letting go of vine (the timing can be tricky)

If you do this correctly, you can travel ridiculous distances. The video has examples.
Vining straight upwards to juke some shots, cleanse Caut, and get the full 800 heal is a good way to tilt duels in your favour.
Ultimate:
There’s a lot of uses for his ult. The most common is going to be to save someone on your team, which includes yourself! Ulting to keep your team’s healer alive is a very good play. Here’s a clip that shows the vine bug, some Axe + Cripple combos, and why it’s okay to ult for yourself. (https://clips.twitch.tv/ColdbloodedAlertCrocodileBibleThump)
But usually, it’s going to be saving someone who’s just made a mistake, or countering a big engage ult from the other team, like Ash or Inara.
If your team is really low, ulting just to reset and keep everyone alive is fine. However, don’t do it immediately. If your team is all safe, then you can just wait for your Bloosom cooldown and maybe some out of combat healing. If the other team tries to push on your team while they’re low, then that’s a good time to ult. You want to be ulting to keep people alive rather than keep people healthy.
However, you do want to be spamming this ult. It builds relatively quickly.
It’s important to remember that it does not make you invincible. Late game caut can still make you killable. Your base healing is 2500 HPS, which is 1875 HPS with Caut 1, 1250 with Caut 2, and 625 HPS with Caut 3. 625 HPS is still around the same amount of healing as an un Cauted Ying ult, but it’s still not a free pass to walk through an entire team.
If it’s really important that you live through your ult, maybe you’re forced to walk through a lot of people late game, you can use Blossom before ulting to get the Unstoppable DR, if you’re running that.
If you hold down RMB, then cancel your ult while still holding RMB, you can throw a Crippling Axe while skipping the animation. I like to do it at the very end of my ult to try to catch the enemy DPS off guard.

Map specific tips

Tierlist:

• S: Jaguar Falls, Ice Mines, Brightmarsh
• A: Serpent Beach, Stone Keep
• B: Frog Isle, Warder’s Gate, Shattered Desert, Bazaar
• C: Frozen Guard, Fish Market, Splitstone Quarry
• D: Timber Mill

Ascension Peak If you go through bells (the tunnel with stairs) and walk slightly towards the well side, you can get dismounts on the other team with root as they try to reach the high ground. Generally, you either want to be playing slightly behind the point, or on high ground.
Bazaar Grover only really works on this map if your team has an advantage in the poke fight, wants to play defensively, and wants to stack a side. But he works really well in that situation. If you don’t have all of those things, he’s either going to have a difficult time contesting other team’s DPS or he’s going to be forced to play around point. In either case, you might as well pick another support.
Brightmarsh If you go to tree right away, you can dismount people who are going far apps on the other side of the map. Grover wants to either play around point near the window if his team is playing slow, or if his team is playing aggressively, he can go far apps or up on lip.
Fish Market Similar to Bazaar, Grover needs a super specific team comp on this map. You pretty much need to deathball, otherwise you’re going to struggle with keeping everyone alive.
Frog Isle Verdant Expanse 5 is good on this map because it lets you heal point from behind the wall when you’re peeking main. It’s the only map I think you need it. Otherwise, you’re usually playing in the jungle below your team’s window. It’s kind of risky though, Grover really likes having a strong off lane on this map to make space for him. There’s usually better options for supports.
Frozen Guard This map requires your team to play on stage, the side with the environmental hazard, or you have to play on road where the payload goes, and that’s risky.
Jaguar Falls You can immediately throw a Crippling Axe down main to catch people out, but it means you’re dismounted. This map has got a lot of good angles to spam. There’s no one position to play on this map, playing around dark is generally good but there’s a lot of rotations.
Ice Mines Always go for dismounts with root, either farm ult and keep shooting or immediately push to your windows and root their 1st window ASAP and you’ll hit them as they walk up if you have Chop Down 5 and no Chronos. It’s a very cheeky way to get picks. You just want to sit in windows and poke out DPS.
Serpent Beach Similar to what you can do on Jag, you can immediately root a side of the cover next to high ground when you get to your high. Similar to Ice Mines, you just to sit on your high ground and poke their DPS. There’s a few common themes on these maps, the things that Grover does well, and then it’s just knowing where you can apply them to different parts of the map.
Shattered Desert Nothing special about this map.
Splitstone Quarry Grover wants a comp that plays hard in quarry (near the fidget spinners), or you have to play on the low ground to heal both point and lava. Playing high ground means your heal doesn’t reach anything.
Stone Keep You can get dismounts with root from fire to their ivy/banana, but the timing is a little tricky. You either want to be playing in hell if your team is taking keep, or in church if your team is taking church. If both teams are fighting keep, you can push slightly to the side and get a really long angle into their ivy/banana.
Timber Mill Don’t play healer Grover here man, it’s not worth.
Warder’s Gate Spamming across point from room to room is your best bet. Rotations are really important on this map though, watch your flanks.