m_1512

I feel I've been remiss. I realize that I told you about the hidden valley of the TotW, but gave you no map. Well, I must now stop being lazy and draw the map, but while I do that, here is how you can find the valley. If you find it, I'll see you there, and if not, come back here for the map.

Directions to the valley:
- Once you pack and enter into the vast lands of TWC forums, traverse a bit.
- You'll then come across the Creative Realm.
- There lies three paths. One leads to the hidden order of librarians who gather scrolls about that must not be named. But that is not your path. Then the other path leads to the mansions of the artist who indulge in art that you may not find in your realm. But that is not your path either.
- The third path leads you to the realm of the writers. This is your path.
- But even here, there are many paths that may take you where you not been before. And I do not want you to be lost in trying to translate the cryptic messages of the inhabitants.
- So just take the fourth path from the left, and it will lead you straight to the hidden valley.

Erhm... right. Coming back to the point, I bring you the results of yet another brawl among the writers. This one had class, this one was of tremendous scale. And again, a tiebreaker. The topic itself was grand too.

A Brawl of Titans!

https://deadliestblogpage.files.word...04/015_a_l.jpg

And two titans emerged victorious from the brawl. Although some people with the :shifty: eyes tell me that these two had planned it all along.

ccllnply
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Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

Rav gasped for breath as he struggled under the tightness of the grip that held him. With a painful surge of energy he managed to break free once more and get his head above his opponent’s arm. He gulped in all the oxygen he could and tried to take stock of the situation he was in. He still had Williams’s back on the ground, Rav lay on top in the side guard. Both men were trying their best to out wrestle the other but they were exhausted and were making very little headway. The referee spoke to them.


“One minute left guys! You gotta’ work!”


One minute left. One minute in the fight that would define the rest of his life. One minute to turn it all around because he was sure the judges had scored him the loser in the previous four rounds. He was nearly forty years old and he had been in the mixed martial arts game for nearly twenty years. He had left it till now for his biggest moment. Twenty years in the business and this could be his final minute ever. He couldn’t let it slip away.


He spied a slim hope of an opening. Williams was tired, he could see that, but there was still a huge risk. If he could avoid the huge, lumbering fists of his 120kg opponent, maybe he could manage it. Rav was only slightly lighter but hopefully his speed would tell. He would have never tried it anywhere else but right now, he knew he had to.


With one last deep breath he threw himself forward. It looked like he was going for a full mount then it looked like a choke. It was neither and it was messy. He crawled across William’s body and forced his right shoulder into William’s right armpit. He held on to the far side of his opponent’s neck with his right hand. He launched one punch at his opponents face and to his astonishment it connected. He threw again, and again and again. Pummelling away at his competitor’s face for what felt like an eternity until the referee pushed him on to his back and he lost all understanding of the situation.


Moments later he stood in the middle of the ring, still not grasping it until the ring announcer spelling it out to him and the crowd.


“Ladies and Gentlemen! The referee has stopped this fight with thirty seconds to go in the final round as a result of knockout, in favour of your winner and new heavyweight champion of the world! Rav “The Titan” Anderson!”
Rav fell to his knees. He couldn’t tell if it was exhaustion or happiness, but tears rolled down his cheeks as they placed the belt around his waist.

Cohors_Evocata
http://www.twcenter.net/forums/custo...ar185899_2.gif

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

'And that's how we brought down the terrible beast, after a long and desperate struggle for survival. I swear, girlie, that's the only time I've ever been truly afraid at sea. Well, except for that one time when we were rounding the cape of Turos. Did you know...'

Allow me to cut this endless stream of nonsense short right here. Tall tales may be what The Stranded Mermaid and its visitors are known for, but that doesn't mean I'd force anyone to sit through the boring fantasies of some drunken old sailor who's too far gone to notice the pretty serving girl he's been boasting to has disappeared with a first mate half his age long ago. Boy, did I stretch out that sentence. Anyway, I guess I should introduce myself first. Actually, I'd rather not do that. Who I am and where I come from aren't all that important right now (which translates to: the author couldn't be bothered to do some basic characterisation). What's that? I believe I just heard the fourth wall coming down. Oh yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's one of these stories that you've chosen to subject yourselves to. Feel free to skip this entry if this sort of thing ain't your cup of tea. Oh well, I guess I should move on with the rest of my story. For some reason I don't think it's really going to go anywhere, though.


Now, where was I again? Ah yes, now I remember. As I noted before, this place's known for the tall tales the visiting travellers tend to tell. (Ain't that some alliteration or what?) It's also known for its flea-infested beds, cheap, ah, shall I say, 'ladies of the night' (there might be children reading, you know) and the tendency of some visitors to introduce themselves using their fists. You know the type: huge muscles, usually not the sharpest knife in the toolbox. The kind who use their lumbering stature to intimidate you into giving them all your money and afterwards you're still grateful nothing worse happened. One enters this inn at their own risk (though the excellent liquor the innkeeper always seems to have in stock does certainly make it a risk worth taking). Now that I've included all the required words in my descriptions, I think I can get to the meat of my story. You see, the serving girl I mentioned before isn't just employed to serve the guests here (in several ways, at times), but also because... What's that? This entry can't have more than 500 words? Well, it seems you're out of luck then. Such a shame, I was just getting to the good part.


Note from the author: I hope this entry doesn't offend anyone reading it. I haven't intended this as a way to belittle this competition or its contestants, I was just trying to have a bit of fun in writing this, within both the given bounds and what I consider to be somewhat reasonable standards.