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Brunswick: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to PRW Rage, coming at you live from the Little Ceasar’s Arena in Detroit. I am Josh Brunswick and I am joined here, as always, by Doug Smith. Doug?
Smith: Thanks Brunny. And let me tell you folks, we have a very volatile situation here to start us off tonight.
As the intro for PRW plays on the titantron and the pyro goes off, the camera pans around the arena. In addition to the screaming fans, the ring is surrounded by security guards wearing simple black uniforms. Inside the ring is a simple black table with a pair of pens and a clipboard. Razer, the commissioner of PRW, stands in the middle of the ring. Smith: Tonight, we are kicking things off with a contract signing for one of the most personal feuds over the Internet Championship we’ve seen in some time. Paladin, the cocky White Knight of PRW, and Mordrad, the monster who has held the Internet Championship with an iron grip for most of the year. It all comes to a head at Christmas Carnage.
Brunswick: Indeed. What was initially a battle of egos, a challenge to see who is better, has now become very personal. To those watching at home, the following footage may be disturbing.
A rewind of the ending to last week’s match between Maxwell Alex and Jack Rider plays. In particular, Paladin’s crucifix bomb to the outside of the ring is shown, and the camera draws close to Alex’s face as he is carried out by paramedics. The camera then turns back to Paladin, smiling at his handiwork.
Brunswick: Smith, what do you think is running through the minds of both of these men?
Smith: Paladin is probably more confident than ever after what he did to one of Mordrad’s minions. I mean, let’s be honest here: being on Mordrad’s team doesn’t exactly come with great health benefits. I’m not sure if he’s going to take it personally, or as an insult, but we’ll have to find out.
Brunswick: Right, because here comes the challenger…
Paladin’s titantron begins to play, prompting a chorus of boos from the audience as the obnoxious Brit marches in. Instead of his traditional biker jacket, he wears a suit, and decided not to ride his motorcycle to the ring on this one occasion. The message was clear: Paladin was all business tonight. Still, he couldn’t quite resist pandering to the crowd a bit. As the “you suck” chants began, Paladin bowed to the crowd on his way down the ramp. As he got closer to the ring, he pat one of the security guards on the shoulders before slowly stepping inside.
Immediately, once he got into the ring, Paladin walked towards Razer with his hand extended. The Commissioner met his eyes and shook his head, prompting a few cheers from the crowd. Paladin shrugged and strolled confidently to the other side of the ring. A ringside crew member handed him a microphone as he leaned back against the turnbuckle. Smith: Oh boy, I can tell from the look in his eyes. Paladin has something he wants to say.
Brunswick: Well, he’s going to have to do it to Mordrad’s face, because here he comes.
As the music plays, Mordrad stroll from the back, dressed in a very well made black and green suit. Staying in style with suit, Mordrad’s regularly fully masked head is adorned with a half mask; showing off his well keep if shaggy hair with a thickly stubbled face; save a streak of flesh on his left side that seemingly refuses to grow any hair.
Brunswick: A rare sight, seeing Mordrad dressed well and only half masked. An odd, and somewhat all the more disturbing, sight indeed.
Smith: What is even odder is seeing him by himself. But if reports are true, Maxwell is laid up pretty badly at the moment, so it could just be that the rest of Apocalyptica is holding down the homefront.
Mordrad’s gait is slow and methodical; he is in no rush and hold no interest in making this meeting a speedy one. Ever the mental manipulator, he wanted Paladin to savor in the entrance and stew in the anticipation. Coming to the edge of the ring, he walks slowly up the step; receiving a mic as he ducks under the ropes and comes in front of Rider.
Smith: I am not sure who is ediger; Razer or Rider.
Brunswick: This situation is not likely going to be pretty. If anything, it will be nasty.
Standing nearly nose to nose with Rider, with only Razer’s hands keeping them cordial, Mordrad is grinning. Paladin lifts his mic up but is cut off by Mordrad.
Before you even speak, let me warn you Jackie...I’ve got little time for fool and even less than that for cowardice braggart. *looking at Razer* You would be well advise to keep this blight on the name of knightliness to keep his head...or I will knock it clean off his shoulders.
Rider jumps to make a move but Razer is quick to keep him qualmed; glaring at both men with eyes that only a big mean looking Brit like Razer could give.
TBC: Rider
HARKERN TO MY RECKONING!
Former: 1 x Internet Champion, Current: Undisputed Champion
"You would be well advise to keep this blight on the name of knightliness to keep his head...or I will knock it clean off his shoulders."
Paladin was shocked by Mordrad's appearance as he walked out to the ring. He wore a suit, half his mask was missing, and he had an arrogant swagger about him that he thought the Obsidian Knight was incapable of. In a way, he looked like wrestling's equivalent of Two-Face, and Paladin was beginning to wonder if there was more to Mordrad than he had given him credit for. All this time he had believed that Mordrad was little more than another wannabe monster, but now, seeing the calm man in front of him, Rider found himself face-to-face with a smart and calculating competitor.
Though Mordrad had never tried to get the crowd behind him, he had their support nonetheless. After listening to Paladin run his mouth and go out of his way to injure the Dragon, they had seen enough of the arrogant Brit. If there was anything Mordrad was good for, it was injuring folks: and right now that was what they all wanted to see happen to Paladin. Rider knew it, and he aimed to continue giving the crowd exactly the opposite of what they wanted.
"You know, it's good to see you Mordrad. I mean that, honestly and truly. I was beginning to wonder if all this time I was talking to myself. Week in and week out, I come out on this stage issuing my challenge in some way shape or form, but frankly you Mordrad have been nowhere to be seen." Paladin had taken up his microphone, but he did not make eye contact with Mordrad, something the Obsidian Knight was acutely aware of. "I have to thank Razer for setting this up. Just you and me: no masks, no minions, just two knight's standing toe-to-toe."
Paladin made his way to the turnbuckle and leaned back in the corner, still refusing to make eye contact with Mordrad. "You do realize what's happening here right? You're fallen into my trap Mordrad. Paladin Rules is a match of my choosing. At Christmas Carnage, there will be none of PRW's vile weapons, and no stupid Champion's advantage. If any of your crew tries to interfere, and by god I hope they do, that title comes home with me. You're fighting me on my terms. I have the high ground, and you will fall Mordrad." TBC - Kingsman
Mordrad’s lips curl with a cold and calculated glee; his shale blue eyes warbling in the area lights like brushed and chipped sapphire seen through a thin mist. Standing in the same spot he first challenge Paladin at, Mordrad looms tall and broad over seemingly every inch of the ring; his booming yet soothing voice filling the arena with a chilled mixture of terror and excitement.
A trap? Oh no my little white washed sycophant. This meeting of us, on neutral and violence free ground, is no trap. You getting your way at Christmas Carnage, your “Paladin Rules” , is no trap. It is infernal destiney; carried out as it needs to be. You may have fooled these people, fooled the back and even fooled yourself but I know the truth. I have no fear of you.
Mordrad’s face stretches even deeper into hellish glee and mocking whimsey.
But you...you Jackie-boy...you stink of piss,emesis, and sweat. Your eyes dart from side to side. Your voice trembles a little every time you say my name. You fain to even stand close to me. So regardless of your braggadocious and bold claim; it is not you that hold the high ground but I. [/color]
Walking closer to Paladin with a slow and slinked gait, Mordrad continues to speaks.
Do not be ashamed my alabaster adorned sir. Greater and gritter men have done the same thing, felt the same pages of terror, drowned in the same internal bog of doubt that you are now. Fear is not weakness; it is life itself. And I...I drink it up like nectar and honey. I do not need weapons to make you scream. My minions would just be frivolously wasted in my effort to rend you to pieces and turn your inner fears into reality.
Now right in Rider’s face, Mordrad leans in, his voice dropping to a near hissing whisper yet fully audible in the hushed arena.
You are not in your world anymore Jackie...You are in mine. You are mine. And soon...I make see it all, in a brilliant palette of red, white and black.
TBC: Paladin
HARKERN TO MY RECKONING!
Former: 1 x Internet Champion, Current: Undisputed Champion
You are not in your world anymore Jackie...You are in mine. You are mine. And soon...I make see it all, in a brilliant palette of red, white and black.
Paladin's face turned red as Mordrad went on-and-on. Terror? Was it really so obvious? For all the bravado Paladin had shown thus far, bragging about how easily he could knock out the monster, he had to admit that there was part of him that was...apprehensive about the battle to come. Thus far, he had been larger, far larger, than his opponents, and he was able to throw them around with ease. Not so with Mordrad: he was one of the few competitors in all of PRW who could not only look him in the eye, but also push him around should he so choose. There was also the matter of what he had done to Augustin Gates, leaving the former champion in a puddle of his own blood as he walked away with triumph. Paladin did not want to meet the same fate.
Mordrad was a threat; to say otherwise wasn't just arrogant, it was foolish. And thus far, Paladin had been too calculating to be foolish. He was not afraid to admit it: part of him did fear Mordrad. Besides, if Mordrad wanted to believe that Rider was just another sniveling coward, all that did was help him to lull the Obsidian Knight into a false sense of security. Still...Paladin's ego would never allow him to walk away without saying anything. The crowd had fallen silent, seemingly waiting for Paladin's rebuttal, as the Brit stepped forward to Mordrad. Razer tried to position himself so as to keep the two big men apart, but not even he could stop Razer from advancing on Mordrad.
To his credit, Mordrad barely even stiffened as Paladin got in his face. "You know, all this time, I've been trying to think what it is about you Mordrad that just pisses me the hell off. Is it your stupid mask? The fact that you like to hang around with other similarly dressed freaks? Or the fact that you injure your opponents without repercussion?" At this, Razer raised an eyebrow, and Paladin nodded in the Commissioner's direction. "No, what really bothers me more than anything else is the fact that you look down on people. You may have it all wrapped up under this god complex you have, thinking that you are an entity that is simply better than the rest of us. But at Christmas Carnage, I look forward to bringing you back down to Earth."
"Tell me Mordrad, if this was all destiny, then was me injuring Dragon just part of the plan?" Paladin asked, his confident smirk returning. "How is the dear boy by the way? Can he still feel his legs? I know that he is really little more than a pawn to you Mordrad, but the way I see it he got hurt in your stead. And here's the thing Mordy, that fight between me and him was nothing personal. Beating him was just a means to an end." "If I was capable of doing that to him, then what do you think I'm willing to do to you, a man I actively despise, on Sunday?"
"So go ahead. Look down on me all you want. All it will do is make it easier to knock you out when you least expect it. Maybe they'll even let you and your dog share a room in the hospital." Paladin snickered at Mordrad.
After Paladin's words, Mordrad looks taken aback, almost hurt. His sinister smile soften a bit and with a mockingly snobbish tone he replies.
Dear Jackie, you doth wound my pride. Me, look down on you? Never. If anything I admire you. It takes brass to stand up, unproven and unprepared, to face down a devil like me. It shows initiative and courage; both true qualities of a knight. But then you already knew that, did you not?
Rolling back a few steps as he speaks, Mordrad gives Rider a little breathing room and settles Razer’s nerves; at least temporally.
As for Maxwell, you best not worry about him. He served his purpose. He did his job. He laid out the test he needed to. You see, you my dear sir, are an untested commodity in these halls. Video is nice, word of mouth serves it purpose but action ive and in your face: that is how you study a foe. I knew from the second you walked through these doors you would seek me out. I had… suspicions. And so Maxwell was your test. A loyal warrior that would fight tirelessly and endless; pushing you and making you show your hand.
Mordrad strolls effortlessly mid-ring; his mood and tone taking on that of a wizened lecturer; a calm and calculating tutor to a student.
It is a simple rule of warfare.You must know the enemy as yourself. Do so and there is no need to fear the result of battle. I know how I am; I know how you are. But you Jackie, you may know think yourself you do not. You hide your montours warmorger side out of fear of the results. That makes you weak. That makes you frail. That will make you fall. You will succumb to me. You will submit to me.
Turning to Rider, Mordrad walks slowly; a black panther on the prowl.
That is not arrogant or deity-infused bravdo on my part; it is simple fact of war. You, despite your pedigree and presences, are just a soldier in a losing battle. I, on the other hand, I am a weaver of destruction, a maestro of malice, a leader of the unstable. I see the strings of destiny. I pluck at and beat upon the instruments of war. I have a plan; laid out before you even breathed your first hot breath in my face. I have already beaten you...you just do not know it yet.
Mordrad continues to walk forward; slowly, methodically, sinisterly.
I can save you from it all. The undriven chaos, the pain, the turmoil. I can give you a new purpose, a new direction. All you have to do is take my hand, as many have before. Take my hand and live in the salvation and freedom that I offer.
Mordrad stop just in front of Paladin; holding out a hand; an offering of self and salvation from destruction.
TBC: Rider
HARKERN TO MY RECKONING!
Former: 1 x Internet Champion, Current: Undisputed Champion
All you have to do is take my hand, as many have before. Take my hand and live in the salvation and freedom that I offer.
Paladin was taken aback. He had anticipated this contact going in many ways, most of them ending in violence, but to have Mordrad actually extend a hand towards him? That was very unexpected. And, if anything, it showed how little Paladin's attempts at mind-games have affected the Obsidian Knight. All of the fancy speeches directed towards him, the act of injuring one of his minions: all meaningless in the end. Even now, Mordrad was doing everything in his power to try and make it seem as though the series of events from Bloodletting to Christmas Carnage had all been part of his plan.
Part of Paladin wanted to believe him. Mordrad could argue all he wanted that he had planned Maxwell as simply being a test for Paladin, but this was not a bout he could have possibly planned on having. After all, it only took place after Paladin held a private meeting with Razer. The idea that Mordrad was the puppet master manipulating all the strings was, frankly, downright foolish. No man had powers like the ones Mordrad claimed to possess. If Mordrad was truly the god he claimed to be, then why had he only won the Internet Championship so far?
Still, in the back of his mind, there was doubt. Paladin had to admit...Mordrad's proposal had some appeal. As a member of Apocaliptica, Paladin could soar to new heights. They would be unstoppable. Who could stand against such a force? If Paladin wanted to rise to the top of PRW quickly and spread his message, here was one way he could go about doing it with ease. The best part is that he wouldn't have to take responsibility for his actions or feel guilt over the injuries he would cause along the way. He could take solace in the fact that he was just following orders as a good soldier in Mordrad's army.
"You can't be serious." Paladin whispered into the microphone, his eyes fixated on Mordrad's hand. Still, it stayed where it was, beckoning Rider towards it. "After all this time, after everything I've said, you seriously want me to join you? That...is a very interesting proposal Mordrad. Look at us. Together, why, we'd be bloody unstoppable."
Razer raised an eyebrow as Paladin continued. The commissioner had not expected this turn of events either. "You know, when I first signed with PRW, I came here with a purpose: rise through the ranks of the biggest wrestling promotion in the world, and once I'm at the top, use my position to end hardcore wrestling once and for all. And over time, I think I've lost track of that. This isn't about championships or the money...the only thing this has ever been about has been sending a message."
"So...I accept." Paladin walked forward and reached out for Mordrad's hand, grasping it tightly. The crowd's response was mixed: some gasped, some booed, others cheered. But as Paladin and Mordrad locked eyes, there was a sense that change was coming to PRW and that these two titans would be at the helm. Paladin began to smile as he shook Mordrad's hand vigorously, pulling back a bit to raise his free arm for the rest of the crowd. It was the first time since he arrived that the crowd reacted to him positively.
Then Paladin pulled his arm back and rammed his elbow into Mordrad's skull, knocking the big man to the ground as the crowd gasped in shock. Razer looked down in shock as Paladin turned to the camera and gave a menacing grin as he grabbed his contract and hastily signed it. See, while the possibility of working alongside Mordrad was intriguing, that would involve being subservient to another bloody psychopath, and Rider knew all too well not to go down that path again.
Besides, anyone who knew PRW understood that Mordrad's alliances never lasted long, and his soldiers were little more than pawns to be cast aside when the time called for it. If Paladin truly wanted to conquer PRW and turn it into his kingdom, he could never do that as little more than a soldier. He was the white knight of PRW, and right now, he had the dark king of Apocaliptica in check-mate!
Paladin tried to pursue Mordrad, but Razer pushed him back as the security guards entered the ring. Each of them were large men in their own right, but they were only barely able to hold Paladin back and get him to the corner. Paladin was screaming at Mordrad. "Did you think it'd be that easy Mordy? I'm coming for you this Sunday! Remember this face, because it's the last thing you'll see as Internet Champion!"
Paladian is frothing and chomping at the bit; pushing hard against to two big burly security officers keeping him away from Mordrad. Razer is standing in front of him, shouting at Rider to calm down and keep his head. All this action, all this chaos...it is soon interrupted by the most most chilling peel of laughter any man, both Razer and Rider, had ever heard.
Brunswick: Is Mordrad...laughing?
Smith: I think so Josh. And I don’t know about you but...I need some new pants.
Slowly rising up, Mordrad’s laughter does not stop. As the camera zooms in, it can be seen that the half mask he was wearing had a large crack in it. Slowly dripping from between the cracks was a little trickle of deep red blood; staining the seams of the mask pink as rolled down to Mordrad’s skull like and horridly cavernous guffawing maw.
Wiping the blood off the mask; his laughter only grows. Two fingers stained with icor, he walks over to the still very game and struggling Rider. Using the blood like paint, he smears to thin streaks down either side of the bull raging Brit. This make Rider struggles, shouting curses and slurs Kevin way and tugging with the force of hurricane, but to no avail.
Walking backward towards the ropes,still cackling, Mordrad rolls out the ring, taking a mic with him. Wiping his face once more as he sanders back towards the back on his heels, Mordrad takes a taste of the blood and looks up at Rider with a wild and gleeful look in his eyes.
I win Jackie. I win.
Whipping his hair back, Mordrad flings his mic towards the ring, almost doing a jig up the rest of the ramp.
Smith: I do not know what the hell we just say but I cannot honestly say I have ever been more creeped out.
Brunswick: I do not think Rider realized what is signed up for when he crossed Mordrad. The mind games are far from over and I fear they will just get worse.
HARKERN TO MY RECKONING!
Former: 1 x Internet Champion, Current: Undisputed Champion
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