Oct. 30th, 20XX
The entirely white sun shines upon the dismal city. Humanoid figures sulk while wandering around aimlessly with their pure white skin and broken skeletal like masks covering parts of their faces and other body parts. Colour void from all objects and the only noises to be heard are the solemn steps of the downbeat denizens and muffled whispers with no particular place of origin.
Although most of the victims of this seemingly grim world can barely feel any emotions, many still seek entertainment or hobbies to distract them from the eternal despair. Many participate in simple things such as chess or sports. Others, however, learn to fight. Groups of fighters form sects with different fighting styles. Many gather to fight one another for entertainment, although no damage is taken in this hellish place for they are all already dead.
The sensei's of these clubs meet cliffside in a forest nearby for a tournament. About 10-15 people show up to fight every year on October 31st. and the winner receives a specially forged weapon, usually equipped with something that no other weapon would have. Once it was a battle axe which head could detach and be launched, another time it was a shovel which could counter any damage taken back to the enemy. These weapons are referred to as Tokens.
Now, the masters gather once more, all prepared to fight. Some have won before, other's wish to prove themselves. No fights are for certain during the tournament. What is for certain, is the prize, and Ciervos plans to take it, one way or another.
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"Has everyone arrived?"
Dozens of people stand in a circle at the edge of the cliff, all nodding in agreement. A crowd cheers behind the group, ready to watch and bet on the fight. In the middle of the aspirants stands a tall, pale brawny man, appearing to be in his late 40's with blonde hair covering his forehead and ears. A bone plate circles around his right eye and his entire nose.
"Hey Quiroth, where is your Token?" asked a contestant. Quiroth had been the winner of the previous tournament and had arrived only to handle the contest this year. The winners of the previous years are obligated to participate in the tournament, however, will not win another Token if they win
"Felt no need to bring it. I can beat all of you with my bare hands!" he shouted with a slight grin. A few of the runner-up fighters started to get riled up at the sound of this challenge and were ready to best the man in combat.
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A high-pitched sound emitted from a nearby speaker, signaling the beginning of the tournament
Quiroth proceeded to pull out a black top hat, within it contained multiple pieces of paper holding the names of the people who signed up to fight. He glanced back and forth, sizing up all the contenders. and pulled out two pieces of paper.
"Well, who is it!?" shouted a participant. Quiroth sighs and picks up a microphone.
"The first competitors will be; Teufel Schade vs. Myself, Don Quiroth!" he declared while throwing a fist into the air.
Sighs reverberate through the small crowd. Teufel was a newcomer who had yet to become known or make a name for himself. He had appeared once at the previous event, however, dropped out mid-way. He had short black hair, dark red eyes and the common pale skin standing around 6'4". He was wearing a white taichi uniform and sported white two knuckle dusters, he seemingly appeared to be in his early 20's.
He lazily made his way to the center of the circle, dragging his feet along the way. "Bored, are ya'?" spoke Quiroth, "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you." Teufel clicked his tongue and assumed a boxing stance. A ringing resounded through the area and the fight had begun.
Quiroth and Teufel walked circles around each other, waiting for a chance to fight. Teufel showed no openings, unlike his opponent who's arrogance showed as he boasted about his strength by not putting his guard up.
"Haha, kid your about 100 years too early to even attend this tourney. Rookies like you won't make it anywhere." spouted the previous winner.
Teufel began to glare at Quiroth. The defending champion turned his back and began to laugh at Teufel with the crowd. However, the newcomer did not waste this moment and jolted behind Quiroth and sent a booming punch into his lower back.
Quiroth slowly stumbled a bit, then slowly turned around and glared at the greenhorn. As Quiroth raised his fist to slam down on Teufel, he collapsed. He began to groan in agony.
The crowd roared in surprise. Had this fledgling just defeated him with one punch? Just as shocked, the extra security and staff gathered and a substitute was sent out to announce the next round as Quiroth was hurriedly taken away.
At this point, the crowd in a blink of an eye had already been sold on Teufel winning the tourney. Many dropped out of the competition. If anything, people only stayed registered to fight so they can experience such power in close combat.
"Ah, o-okay let's see... next round will be..." a shocked look appears on the substitutes face, "T-T-Teufel Schade vs. Ciervos Sombrion!"
"Aha! Another greenhorn? If he is anything like that monster then this will be interesting!" shouted someone in the crowd.
Ciervos leaned against a nearby railing. His eyes focused on the Token prize. It was a hilt but it lacked any sword at all. What the hell would I do with just a hilt!? He sighed and made his way into the circle. Teufel sending him intense stares before the fight even started.
This guy is intense. What is his problem? he pondered. Ciervos remembered him taking out Quiroth and realized that he probably wouldn't win this fight.
Ciervos picks up a black tanto off the ground and waits for the sound of the fight to start.
What am I gonna' d- he spotted the Token again. After a few minutes of thinking, he got an idea.
Hehe, I don't even need to win. I just need to distract everyone.
He pointed his tanto at Teufel and began to chuckle.
"This will be a blast."
A ring echoed all around. The fight had begun.