OPEN and the Road to Their Goal
OoC: A tribute to all of those old 2D fighting games we never play anymore. May they rest in peace.
BiC: The Emperor of Fighting event. There were few other things in the world that got as much widespread attention as that annual competition of martial artists. No other time of year yielded a greater gathering of talented fighters. They all came to claim their right to be called the strongest hand to hand fighter on the planet. Some traveled a globe’s distance to reach the city where it was held, some lived within it’s walls. Some traveled that great distance simply to register as a competitor, some were personally invited. But each of them, to a man, was a formidable fighter. Sometimes a world famous battler would come, put on a good show, and get knocked out as soon as they stepped into the ring. Other times, a complete mystery would walk in, and make it all the way to the final round.
Many fighters came to compete on teams, as was the event’s standard. A select few came as single entrants, strong enough to take on whole teams of four on their own. When one member would fall, the next would jump in the ring to take their place. How the team worked together always changed, but the end was always the same. The competition was over when there was only one fighter left standing. Every year, the big names would change and the way they fought would be different. Every year their stories would change and evolve. Some fought for fame, some fought for justice, some fought for a cause, some fought for the prize money, and some fought only because they enjoyed fighting. A more colorful cast appears in few other places at even fewer places in time.
The event worked on a great scale. Crime syndicates had fallen, warlords had been brought down, even entire cities were sent to their knees by the coming and passing of the yearly event. Drama never ceased to unfold. However, it always remained behind the scenes, out of the public eye. Even with such a sordid history, the opening of the new year’s Emperor of Fighting event was decided upon. The event’s sponsor was, yet again, a mysterious entity. As par for the course, rumors spread like wildfire. Messengers, couriers, and emissaries worked their feet to dust delivering letters upon letters all over the globe. Word that many well known names were entering once again only made them work harder. Word had already spread worldwide even half a month before the event came around.
At the half month mark, there was another Emperor of Fighting activity that had become something of a tradition within the two or three most recent events. There was a smaller, well organized, well observed, yet unofficial fighting event. Many fighters came to the main event as rivals. There were heated arguments and many unsanctioned fights amongst the competitors. The unofficial event came about as a way for the teams to cool down. They could decide who the better of the rivals was, and head into the main event as true minded warriors. And even though it was unofficial, invitations were still sent out to call upon a few key faces. For the most part, they were called on to set the odds on a wager. Betting on the main event was punishable by death, but the unofficial matches were free and clear.
As time went on, the inhabitants of Middle City, the home of the event, watched the same thing they had seen many times before. Preparations for the event went smoothly as ever. The venues for the competition were established, schedules were filled out, and everyone from fighters to spectators began to flock to the city. To get the feel of a natural setting for combat, venues were set up everywhere from back alleys to parks. The invitations were sent via the fastest and most reliable post men, some of whom would later return to compete. It wasn’t uncommon to find a world renowned fighter with a menial job in the city. A good few of the big names in the event lived their day to day lives in the city. Waiters and waitresses were a couple of the more popular jobs.
Yet, as grand in scale as the Emperor of Fighting event was, there were many who did not know of it, and had no intention of competing. Many were invited to participate in the event, but four people who had no idea it existed were the only ones who got invitations to both the main event and the unofficial event. Word of that spread, but spread less quickly. A few well known faces in the fighting world found it irksome that four complete unknowns were getting preferential treatment. No one contested it, though. When word spread, it carried the voice of the new year’s enigmatic sponsor. Little, if anything was known about them, but when the sponsor made a demand, every competitor, down to a man, followed it. The sponsor was rarely friendly, and frequently larger than life.
One of the double invitation recipients was an old man; not elderly, but aging, with hair still full of color and muscle still on his bones. The letter was delivered by someone he thought he recognized. Turns out, it was just someone who looked like him. The invitation came in a plain white envelope, closed with a nondescript wax seal. He opened it. The letter of invitation itself was not anything special. It told him what he had been invited to, what it meant, what the rules were, and where to go to get there. He may have been a cocky codger, but he knew a good thing when he heard one. If there was a way to make his personal style of martial arts famous, then he couldn’t miss the opportunity. Having nothing to pack and no home to lock up, he left immediately. He arrived quicker that he thought he would.