Dust and Derision

This is the Trailer for Halvard Kyland.

The man loved his job. His voice commanded the attention of hundreds of thousands. As the Announcer, he was the voice of the Mountain Arena. It was his job to introduce teams, and whip the audience into a cheering frenzy. And that's not even his favorite part. Before him lay a large holographic screen. With a flick of the wrist, he could spit a gout of white-hot flame at an unsuspecting fighter, or crush him underneath rolling barrels, or detonate bombs, or cause lightning strikes, or whatever he pleased, within the limits of the game. And today's game was special indeed. It was the glatorial duel finals, and the Arena was packed. Not a seat was left empty. Two very important people would be settling their differences like men today, out in the arena. The time had come. The people were chanting. The man cracked his knuckles, and grabbed the microphone. Time to do what he did best.

"Ladies and gentlemen. You all know why you are here. One of the greatest duels in Arena history is about to take place. No bets are safe. Winner takes all. Welcome, Boys and Girls, to the Mountain Arena!"

The crowd was ecstatic. That was the line that signaled the beginning of a day of matches. Today, however, there would be just one.

"Now, you all know these two gentlemen, but rules are rules! In the east wing..."

The blue gate opened. Out stepped a huge man, wielding a giant katana over one shoulder. He was wearing minimal armor, and a grin spread across his face. The man anticipated victory before the fight had begun. He wore a samurai-style mask that concealed his face.

"The eastern typoon, Kuratas, the masked swordsman! He has risen to the top with brute force! But will that earn him the prize? Our next contender, from the west gate, might have something to say about that!"

Cheers began to intensify. The crowd knew what was coming. As the red gate opened, a large flock of doves flew into the air. Out stepped an average sized young man, smiling and waving to the audience. In one hand, he held a shield with a short blade on one end. In the other hand, he held a fearsome one handed warhammer. Wearing armor designed for flexibility and protection, the young man stepped into the Arena.

"You know him! You love him! Halvard... Kyland!"

The cheering was deafening.

"Born and raised in these very mountains, he is the current generation of a family of champions! His flexibility and balance make him a threat across the board! He must overcome this final challenge to achieve his goal! Speaking of which..."

On a podium located high in the stands, a small glass box became translucent.

"The Arena scarf! Lined with a chainmail forged with metal only found in these mountains! Ultra lightweight, and very rare! Truly, the sign of a champion!"

The arena bean to shift. The ground flattened out, and filled with sand. The arena took on the appearance of ancient colusseums. The two fighters faced each each other. Kuratas laughed, and shouted at Halvard.

"Hey! Boy! Do you really think you can beat me? A runt like you won't last two seconds!"

Halvard replied, keeping a level head. He was no stranger to idiots like this.

"That remains to be seen."

The announcer began the countdown.

"Without further ado!

3!

2!

1!

FIGHT!"