[SRP] Demons of Watchwood Forest

[Knight Errant]

Trumpets sound through the Nobles District of Overwatch. It has just struck eleven, the sun is high in the sky. Over by the Arena, the streets hang thick with banners and decorations. And people. Everyone who can find an excuse, and many more who didnt bother, crowd around. In the air there is a feeling... one of expectant hope. Dark times were at hand, but the people believed this contest would prove their salvation.

On a platform outside the Arena a herald stands, reading from a scroll. His clear voice rings out through the district.

"Prospective heroes of Watchwood! King Arleigh IX invites you to the Arena! There you will face a series of challenges, the reward for which being the King's blessing to take part in the saving of our fair land! And of course the chance to win riches beyond your wildest dreams should you succeed!"

Of course this same message had been sent to all four corners of the Empire, bringing in any soul brave enough to face the Demons of Watchwood... the rumors of which generations of mothers have used to scare children into obedience.

[Nosnits]

Andrew Walter, in his guise of Walter Andrews, stands at the edge of the square, leaning against a storefront and listening to the announcement. He nods every once and a while, when it's appropiot, but he doesn't really pay much attention. Well, I suppose the riches will be a bonus as well...for MY kingdom's economy. Instead of leaping forwards, crying out that he would take the challange, he stays still, prefering to have the announcer tell him where these perspective 'heroes' should go.

[Knight Errant]

The herald did mention heroes were supposed to go to the Arena. The large double-doors of which stand open invitingly.

[Nosnits]

Ah, well, that makes more sense, wouldn't it? So, Andrew heads over to the doors, walking with a bit hunched over, but not much, and walks through the double doors.

[Harri-chan]

A tanned young woman in her mid-twenties stood at the gates of the arena, listening to the herald. Her silvery armour gleamed in the sunlight, polished to a shine, although she wore no helmet, pale blonde hair braided into a ponytail that fell down behind her. A hulking, great big shield was strapped to her back, displaying a flaming sun, and a sword with a golden handle hung at her hip, yet in her armoured arms, she held a small girl of three years old, that had strawberry blonde hair and wore a yellow dress.

As the doors opened, she drew a deep breath, and kissed the child upon her forehead before handing her to a woman in a dress beside her, a woman with red hair. Several other women seemed to be part of her entourage, dressed in silvery satin robes with hoods that were down. Her blue eyes glanced at them, and she nodded, which they returned.

"Be good for for Emmanuelle", she murmured to the child, giving her a warm smile and a wave of a gauntlet covered hand as she strode forward, through the gates, and into the arena...

[ashuros]

Francis walked into the arena not long after the announcer had finished, though he was dressed as any other man specitating the contest might, the bible and religious staff he carried made his profession clear.

[Knight Errant]

Inside the gates of the Arena is a large semicircular room. Straight ahead is a massive series of rope cattlecalls to funnel the hundreds of people trying to get in. Beyond that are many booths lined up against the wall where the commoners and nobles pay admission. Over to the right of the room, a smaller area is set up. A large sign set above a single booth reads: Heroes. The line in front of it is comprised of everyone from bandits to priests... all seeking a piece of the promised prize.

[Harri-chan]

Ginny's armour even sounded heavy, with each step, you could hear the metal plates brush against eachother. Joining the line with the heroes in, she glanced up at the mid day sun for a moment, and then pressed the palms of her gauntlets together, and began to murmur under her breath, and continued this for some time, stepping forward with the line each time a person was seen to at the booth.

[Nosnits]

Andrew takes his place behind Ginny in the line, happy he didn't decide to wear heavy armour, like the...person in front of him. He patiently waits in line, steping forwards everytime someone else does...trying to make as little physical contact as possible with the other people.

[Blaze]

A hooded figure approaches the Arena, looking at everyone from his fellow contestants to the herald. As he approached the double doors, a thought struck him. Hmm... I wonder if there's an enterance fee? He looked around and noticed a fat coin purse hanging from a merchant's belt. He moved to approach him from behind and pretended to trip. He managed to prevent himself from 'falling' and moved on, the coin purse now hidden in his cloak.

James Lute smirked as he entered the double doors and got in line behind Andrew.

[Haylie]

A young blond man strolls casually through the doors, a cocky grin on his face and a bow with a slew of arrows in a quiver slung over his shoulder. His clothes aren't much to look at, very minimalist, but as it's obvious he's an archer, that's understandable. In addition to the bow, there's a crossbow hanging under the arrow quiver, and another quiver for bolts at his side. Unseen, a dagger sleeps in his right boot.

He stands in line, not speaking, but radiating confidence and energy. It's obvious what he's thinking: Bring it on, I'm ready for anything.

[ZeroForever]

Victor entered the chamber pondering how he should pander off his current situation this time if he needed to explain why he was entering. Looking around at the other in the room he decided to proceed with the standard feign ignorance was bliss act, the usual overwhelming confidence in abilities and devout belief in the faith was a mark able trait of the young overly talented priests which should get him enough attention to get in but detour from drawing the spot light.

Managing a look of supreme confidence and naivety he entered the line, his pristine clean priest robes covering his body and hood shielding his face from the sides. If one were to look directly at his face they would only see a pretty baby face that displayed confidence in his eyes, with a overwhelming aura of innocence at the same time.

[Alissa of Someday]

Onín smiles as he wades through the crowds, the throngs of people seeming to part for his impressive form. Or maybe they're just parting for his impressive sword---but either way, he makes it into the arena proper without too much trouble, at least not with anyone that valued their internal organs. Saying not a word, he looks around for a moment, before taking his place in line, behind the cloaked fellow.
Smiling--his teeth fitting together like shattered stones--he idly begins to polish his blade as he waits.

[Brnin8r]

Trey Dendin marched through the city, towering over the peasants and others on his steed. His squire held tightly to the saddle, trying not to fall off as Trey weaved his way through the crowds to the arena. "What shall I do once inside, Sir Dendin?" a few children gawked at the horse and rider as they passed. Trey flicked open his thick visor, "Once we're inside, I'm sure they'll have a station for you to stand watch over the battles. Should I need assistance with my armor or weapons, you'll be at my hand to help."

Gregor nodded. Trey wondered if it was odd for Gregor, being the squire of a man not five years older than him. The other squires had made fun of him when he was assigned by Duke Merdol to become Trey's assistant, as if the Knight Paladin's age was some dishonor to his title. Though, Trey had tried to be a fair master and made sure that it was Gregor who found himself well-fed while the other Squires fell to the pride of their respective vassals.

Some averted their eyes and others squinted as the sunlight reflected in all directions about the arena's front. Once at the door, Gregor leaped off the horses back and began assisting Trey in dismounting. A loud clang sounded as Sir Dendin made contact with the ground. "Thank you Gregor." he made sure all was oriented with his armor before walking into the arena doors. Trey looked amazed at the size of it, "Gregor, have you seen anything like it? Not even our court arena comes close to this spectacle." Gregor was speechless. As they went further in, Trey turned to his squire, "I'll need you to find a suitable place for Ambrosious and yourself. I have faith that you'll be able to find the way. Perhaps there'll be a jousting tournament we could have her in." he handed a bag of coins to the lad, "This should be enough to get you in. If they've no room for you or Ambrosious, return to me and maybe they'll have enough room in the Hero's section." he couldn't help but smile at the name. He hadn't ever considered himself a hero, even after he had been chosen for this, it was to be his own privelege to banner Merdol's fief and the Church's holy name. He clanked over in his full plate, sword in one hand in a casual grip while his massive tower shield was strapped to his back. Standing straight the shield almost reached his ankles from his shoulders. He awaited his turn at the booth.

[Knight Errant]

Time passes... until Ginny is at the front of the line! The bored looking man behind the cage in the booth glances at her, then looks down at the paper in front of him.

"Right. Name, place of birth, next of kin."

Victor gets some odd looks, but no one says anything. Of course when its his turn in line that may change.

Onin and Trey get approving glances... obviously their impressiveness wasnt going unnoticed. They even catch a few excited whispers.

Everyone else seems to attract the normal level of attention... well, normal considering the current situation.