In an opulent room, a group of men, women, and other transdimensional beings sat in chairs around a giant monitor. An announcer appeared on the screen, obscured to a silhouette and with heavy voice modulation.
"Alright! Ladies, gentlemen, and all others, the first fight of the night is about to begin!"
Jeers and cheers erupted from the crowd, and the announcer gave a bit of pause for this to die down.
"Please direct your attention to the wheels of destiny. Tonight's matchup will be chosen in the typical slot-roulette fashion."
The silhouette was replaced on screen with a simulated slot machine, the three reels of which each suddenly began to spin rapidly. Despite being obscured by the slots, the modulated voice continued.
"First, the battle location!" The first reel slowed to a stop, settling on an image with a bright yellow sun bearing down on light-colored sand dunes. "Fate has chosen the desert! No water, no civilization, and no cover besides the sand dunes! Truly a marvelous location!"
The image of the slot with spinning reels minimized to the upper-left corner of the screen, and a live feed of the battle location was brought into the main view, with a rotating camera view as though from an aerial drone. A ticker across the bottom gave basic stats of the area. Realm: Sahara, Temperature: 129F | 54C. In the image, it could be seen that the wind swept across the desert landscape, carrying sand to build into great dunes. Aside from the occasional dried sagebrush, no vegetation could be seen for miles around. If one stared hard at the horizon to the north and east, one might be able to make out some date palms indicative of a desert oasis, but it would be difficult to distinguish this from a mirage. The sun was descending in the sky, off to the west. The desert heat was unrelenting though, even as its source approached the horizon.
Whoops erupted from the crowd at this.
"First combatant!" The slot view returned to the center of the monitor, and the reel began to slow. A cartoony demon came to rest in the center. "Sponsored by our very own Lady Carman, the Demon Prince Amaimon! This playful demon has dominion over thoughts and the ability to summon lesser demons, all for the purpose of claiming your mortal soul as his own! Truly a befitting champion of the Witch herself!"
The reel once again minimized, and the view in the desert zoomed in on a patch of desert, slightly obscured from the west by a large dune. In the shadow of this dune, an imposing male figure materialized. The crowd erupted into a new round of cheers as the demon apparated, presumably confused with the sudden unwillful transubstantiation.
"And now for his opponent!" The slot view maximized on screen again, and the final reel came to a stop. A picture of crisscrossed revolvers was in the crosshairs, and the announcer continues. "Oh, this should be interesting! Against the Demon Prince Amaimon, we have Miles Antioch, a mortal gunslinger! This cowboy has come up against gods and demons before, and somehow has come out victorious. Without substantive powers of his own, this man has become a master of his huge firearms. A knight errant chosen by our very own Jinn Abgal!" A long-haired mustachioed man of middle-eastern descent raised his hand and the cheers redoubled.
The reel finally faded out, once again revealing the live view in the desert. The aerial shot zoomed away from Amaimon to a location some 100 meters away, also in the shadow of a great dune. There, a man appeared in a pair of jeans, a blue chambray shirt, and a large cowboy hat. From the height of the camera, the gamblers could just make out a bandolier, twin gunbelts, and rather large steel protruding from the holsters.
"With no further ado, let us begin the match!" the announcer went on, and then the audio live from the desert battlefield was patched through the image. The gamblers knew the drill; the previous introduction was meant solely for them, but all future commentary would be audible to the champions, as well.
The announcer's voice rang out across the sky, seemingly coming from no where in particular, but rather from everywhere, echoing from every grain of sand and borne by the wind which carried it.
"Gentlemen! Welcome to your personal battlefield! We have hand-chosen you from your respective realms and now you will make battle for the enjoyment of our patrons. We will not force you, of course, but after one hour the battle will be over. If there is no clear victor by then, you will both be removed from existence! However, at the end of that hour, the winner will be rewarded with a trip back home!"
The announcer's voice paused for effect, then proceeded. "Let the battle begin!"
@GigaBit200
"Alright! Ladies, gentlemen, and all others, the first fight of the night is about to begin!"
Jeers and cheers erupted from the crowd, and the announcer gave a bit of pause for this to die down.
"Please direct your attention to the wheels of destiny. Tonight's matchup will be chosen in the typical slot-roulette fashion."
The silhouette was replaced on screen with a simulated slot machine, the three reels of which each suddenly began to spin rapidly. Despite being obscured by the slots, the modulated voice continued.
"First, the battle location!" The first reel slowed to a stop, settling on an image with a bright yellow sun bearing down on light-colored sand dunes. "Fate has chosen the desert! No water, no civilization, and no cover besides the sand dunes! Truly a marvelous location!"
The image of the slot with spinning reels minimized to the upper-left corner of the screen, and a live feed of the battle location was brought into the main view, with a rotating camera view as though from an aerial drone. A ticker across the bottom gave basic stats of the area. Realm: Sahara, Temperature: 129F | 54C. In the image, it could be seen that the wind swept across the desert landscape, carrying sand to build into great dunes. Aside from the occasional dried sagebrush, no vegetation could be seen for miles around. If one stared hard at the horizon to the north and east, one might be able to make out some date palms indicative of a desert oasis, but it would be difficult to distinguish this from a mirage. The sun was descending in the sky, off to the west. The desert heat was unrelenting though, even as its source approached the horizon.
Whoops erupted from the crowd at this.
"First combatant!" The slot view returned to the center of the monitor, and the reel began to slow. A cartoony demon came to rest in the center. "Sponsored by our very own Lady Carman, the Demon Prince Amaimon! This playful demon has dominion over thoughts and the ability to summon lesser demons, all for the purpose of claiming your mortal soul as his own! Truly a befitting champion of the Witch herself!"
The reel once again minimized, and the view in the desert zoomed in on a patch of desert, slightly obscured from the west by a large dune. In the shadow of this dune, an imposing male figure materialized. The crowd erupted into a new round of cheers as the demon apparated, presumably confused with the sudden unwillful transubstantiation.
"And now for his opponent!" The slot view maximized on screen again, and the final reel came to a stop. A picture of crisscrossed revolvers was in the crosshairs, and the announcer continues. "Oh, this should be interesting! Against the Demon Prince Amaimon, we have Miles Antioch, a mortal gunslinger! This cowboy has come up against gods and demons before, and somehow has come out victorious. Without substantive powers of his own, this man has become a master of his huge firearms. A knight errant chosen by our very own Jinn Abgal!" A long-haired mustachioed man of middle-eastern descent raised his hand and the cheers redoubled.
The reel finally faded out, once again revealing the live view in the desert. The aerial shot zoomed away from Amaimon to a location some 100 meters away, also in the shadow of a great dune. There, a man appeared in a pair of jeans, a blue chambray shirt, and a large cowboy hat. From the height of the camera, the gamblers could just make out a bandolier, twin gunbelts, and rather large steel protruding from the holsters.
"With no further ado, let us begin the match!" the announcer went on, and then the audio live from the desert battlefield was patched through the image. The gamblers knew the drill; the previous introduction was meant solely for them, but all future commentary would be audible to the champions, as well.
The announcer's voice rang out across the sky, seemingly coming from no where in particular, but rather from everywhere, echoing from every grain of sand and borne by the wind which carried it.
"Gentlemen! Welcome to your personal battlefield! We have hand-chosen you from your respective realms and now you will make battle for the enjoyment of our patrons. We will not force you, of course, but after one hour the battle will be over. If there is no clear victor by then, you will both be removed from existence! However, at the end of that hour, the winner will be rewarded with a trip back home!"
The announcer's voice paused for effect, then proceeded. "Let the battle begin!"
@GigaBit200