Written by: Epicstu Wyyvernwriter

“For the right to be a Knight, this is New Valhalla!” shouted Woodsmann, “A Realm created by the Ancient and Restless Gods and Goddesses of the 700 Realms for a Tournament that will decide the Fate of all Wyyvern Weapons. Let’s jump right in, Bernard.”

“Atlas stands with an entire World beneath each foot, as he winds up like a veteran baseball player to throw a World that was orbiting a Sun that was next to him,” Mercedes replied. “What could he be aiming at, Woods?”

“Let’s follow the pitch,” Woodsman replied.

On a bolt of her iconic brilliantly purple lightning, Zesrial moved as fast as she could to Edward, “Hold on, I’m coming” Suddenly knocked from the skies by an entire planet, she fell and was then stricken down to the ground by a lightning bolt of shining brilliance. Before she could get back to her feet a beam of purest light sent her spiraling back. She spread her wings to stop herself and landed. With her lightning, she reforged her wings, the only indestructible part of her, into armor. Drawing her bow she twisted and broke it in half. The two halves were as beautiful curved daggers and she connected their pummels with a chain of her lightning as she looked around for who dared stand in her way.

“Well, at least she’s on the same World as Edward now,” Woodsmann commented.

“The wrong side, unfortunately,” Mercedes rebutted.

*          *

Atop a Mountain rising seventeen thousand miles high, on the northernmost corner of a cube-shaped World Hell, the Wyyvern Shieldwall of Deceit, waited for Heaven, his wielder and truest love.

“Hahaha,” laughed a familiar laugh, “not so tough stuck in your weapon form are you?” Thor, a God of Thunder came around to pick Hell up and claim the Wyyvern Shieldwall for himself, “How does she wield you, there aren’t any straps or fittings.” Thor dodged a headbutt from a hooded fennec fox that left a hole through the mountain where the air it pushed had passed. He grabbed the fox by her throat in one hand and started to squeeze, “Ha, that was close. You must be one of those Warpriests I’ve heard so much about.” Sarah IronRam grabbed hold of Thor’s arm and unsheathed her six-inch retractable claws into it. The Deeper her claws pierced through Thor’s arm the harder he squeezed her neck and she was losing her strength faster than he was. “Pity you chose to follow the wrong God.” He let her go to avoid a greatsword that was about to cut his arm off. Grabbing his new opponent’s arm before it could bring the greatsword back up for another swing, “and you must be Warpriest number two,” he threw a fist of rolling thunder, but Pip dodged and wrapped a chain of incense burners around Thor’s neck as he rolled over his back. With both of Thor’s hands occupied by the chains around his neck, Pip wound up for another swing. Thor smiled as with one hand he pulled and held the chains inches from his neck and with the other he reached back. Pip swung down hard only to impact the shaft of Thor’s hammer as Thor deflected the attack, spun around, and kicked Pip back freeing the chains from his neck. With a mighty heave, Thor swung his hammer down, sliding his hand down its shaft to the peak of the thirty thousand foot tall mountain at the end of it.

“Iron! Ram!” with an explosive force that sent Thor flying off the mountain that he stood upon, Sarah headbutted Bokstaveligfjelletpåenpinne into millions of chunks of the previously believed to be unminable ore leaving only Thor’s father, Odin’s, spear which had been its shaft. Sarah stared Thor down as he flew, carried by his lightning, to face her. “Oops, did that thing mean something to you?” she taunted. “Stay with Edward, Pip. Thunder thighs is mine,” she grinned.

“Take him, I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment anyway,” Pip replied as he blocked Odin’s spear. “Thunder Thigh’s daddy just showed up.” Odin swung his spear in a sweep, causing Pip to leap back aways, and followed through with a powerful beam of light from his spears tip. Pip held his sword up to block and the beam deflected into the air then rotated down, cutting through the mountain they fought atop.

“Pretty light show,” Woodsmann commented.

“Indeed,” replied Mercedes, “but that’s enough main characters for now. Let’s go live to a ceremony.”

“A ceremony?”Woodsmann questioned.

“That’s right, Woods. A ceremony,” Mercedes answered, “held by a good majority of the Gods and Goddesses of Fire and Flame in honor of Brek Chesler, the Wyyvern Knight of Fire. With the only ones missing being Ra, Agni, and Sekhmet, it is clear Brek is watched over with great respect by truly loyal Gods and Goddess.”

“Bernard?” asked Woodsmann.

“Yeah, Woods?” Mercedes replied.

“I’m confused,” Woodsmann stated.

“Allow me to explain,” Mercedes began. “Brek Chesler was and still is a worshipper of fire. Before he became the Wyyvern Knight of Fire he was a young Chieftain of a tribe who lived in an environment so cold and dark that fire was all they valued. The ancient and restless Gods and Goddesses of Fire and Flame took notice and kept him and his people alive and happy for generations also granting Brek Chesler immortality as thanks for his undying devotion. Until Brek’s most trusted friend killed him and took control over the fire and Brek’s people,” Mercedes continued. “When the Gods saw that their flames of peace had become flames of war they ceased their support immediately, but Agni was impressed by this new ruler and gave him his spear, Agneyastra to use as he saw fit. The new ruler spread Agni’s flames across that entire Realm obliterating all in his path. The other Gods and Goddesses of Fire and Flame then sought the Nekolich who asked Brek if he wanted to be brought back to life to which Brek replied; no… Save my people. So, with help from the ancient and restless Gods and Goddesses of Fire and Flame, the Nekolich forged Pyre, the Wyyvern Gauntlets of Fire, and gave her to Chesler. Brek returned to his people a Wyyvern Knight, defeated Agni’s chosen, and saved the entire Realm from an early End.”

“Wow, that’s cool. That’s cool,” Woodsmann replied. “So who is this mystery new ruler or Agni’s chosen or whatever?”

“No one knows, accept Brek and the New Valhallian Gods and Goddess of Fire and Flame,” Mercedes replied, “and they don’t talk like to talk about it.”

“That still doesn’t explain why they are just handing him the win here,” Woodsmann argued. “This is a Tournament! Bernard.”

“Perhaps they believe that Brek is the right choice for the role of Wyyvern Knight to Fire, Woods,” Mercedes replied.

“Ah,” Woodsmann sighed, “boring! Moving on to Trace, the Mad Wyyvern itself, the Wyyvern Knight of Madness has… Already claimed his Wyyvern weapon Q, the Wyyvern handgun of Madness who looks like whatever kind of handgun it wants to. Trace now sits atop a pile of seven hundred thirty-five now unrecognizable Gods and Goddesses who had stood in her way.”

“Woods, why do you keep switching pronouns?” Mercedes questioned.

“An excellent question, Bernard,” Woodsmann began. “Trace, the Wyyvern Knight of Madness, and Q, the Wyyven handgun of Madness, are both every sexuality both physically and mentally. Trace does not have a preferred pronoun, in fact, he/she/it loves all of them.”

“Does Q have a preferred pronoun,” asked Mercedes.

“Yes it does,” replied Woodsmann. “Trace,” he moved on with the topic at hand, “the Wyyvern of Memory also known as the Mad Wyyvern, poured his entirety into Q as the Nekolich forged it. Now only those who have completely lost their minds to Madness may witness her truest form. If your mind is still intact at all you will only see an empty hooded cape moving as though someone is wearing it. He can load Q with the memories he steals from his foes to apply devastating effects to Q’s already numerous types of ammunition based on the individual whose memory it is. He has gained a reputation for never being seen in action which has just been proven as our cameras caught none of what happened here.”

“If Trace is the Wyyvern of Memory then why is he the Wyyvern Knight of Madness?” Mercedes asked.

“Because Q is the Wyyvern handgun of Madness,” Woodsmann replied. “A Wyyvern knight is whatever his/her Wyyvern weapon is. Hold up!” he perked up excitedly. “I’ve received word that there is a fight going down inside the Wyyvern Dreadnautilus of Fate.”

“Let’s watch,” Mercedes replied.

*          *

On the seventh World from the seventh Sun within the seventh Galaxy of the Realm New Valhalla under a crescent-shaped island seven hundred and seventy seven miles long end to end in a cave seven hundred seventy seven leagues beneath an ocean that covered the rest of the World the End, the Wyyvern Dreadnautilus of Fate, awaited his Horsemen. Death, a Wyyvern Knight of Fate had pursued a lead from the Death Goddess, Kali, who had helped her defeat Geb an Earth God, Renenutet a Cobra Goddess, Khepri a Morning God, Sekhmet a Sky Goddess, The Aten a Sun God, Neith a Creator Goddess, Bes a Protection God, and Taweret a Childbirth Goddess. The World she now stood upon was covered in sand with no sign of water anywhere. Suddenly she found herself being wrapped in linen unable to break free. All went dark for Chastity as her final word was the name of her truest love, “Aleister.”

“Oh, I’m afraid he can no longer save you,” said a desolate voice. “He can no longer save any of you.”