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Barnabus T. Brackenleaf, Half-Faun Half-Halfling Hedge Druid, Manager of the W.W.W.F., AKA the World Wildlife Wresting Federation Summoning forth nature's finest, fiercest creatures to do battle against civilization's most primal warriors, the World Wildlife Wrestling Federation is an officially-recognized, semi-sanctioned fighting organization which exists to serve thrilling natural entertainments to the yearning masses in the form of bestial bloodsports and feral, frenzied fistfights. This cabal of caged, combative creatures and wild, wizened, and worldly warriors are gathered from near, from far, and largely from parts unknown, brought together under one giant circus tent in order to pit the exotic against the mysterious. The WWWF is a show-stopping, traveling event-runner that caters to the eternal questions burning away at the minds of people everywhere: "which would win in a fight, a giant kraken or a squad of dire polar bears?" Only with the WWWF's help can such questions be answered for all to see! While he is more than capable of summoning, transmogrifying, and elevating his own creature-warriors to sentience from those he finds in nature and in the Feywild, shady trickster-druid Barnabus T. Brackenleaf likes to get his pit fighters as natural as they come: however they show up at his richly-carved stone doorstep. Typically, Barnabus tends to go with the wilderness themes that suit his fighting troupes' style: cunning wood elves, feral beastkin fighters, steely lizardfolk champions, screaming orc berserkers, and uplifted-or-naturally-intelligent creatures are generally his field of specialty, but the occasional earthbound demon or celestial are rarely turned down. While he has a penchant for wine, for food, and for drink, Barnabus T. Brackenleaf actually has no need for any, as his Druidic metabolism naturally purges poisons from his blood and furthermore prevents him from requiring nourishment or hydration to survive. Lux Anima fucked around with this message at 00:42 on Apr 20, 2019 |
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Apr 20, 2019 00:15
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Barnabus T. Brackenleaf, Half-Faun Half-Halfling Hedge Druid, Manager of the World Wildlife Wresting Federation (W.W.W.F.) Barnabus T. Brackenleaf will be fielding the maximum (10) amount of fighters, drafting them in the following order:
Barnabus T. Brackenleaf will be voting to expand the Featherweight division, as this is a more comfortable weight division for a person of his stature.
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Apr 25, 2019 04:05
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Barnabus T. Brackenleaf, Half-Faun Half-Halfling Hedge Druid, Manager of the World Wildlife Wresting Federation (W.W.W.F.) Barnabus T. Brackenleaf will be fielding the maximum (10) amount of fighters, drafting them in the following order (Part 2):
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Apr 30, 2019 02:45
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Barnabus T. Brackenleaf, Half-Faun Half-Halfling Hedge Druid, Manager of the World Wildlife Wresting Federation (W.W.W.F.) As he trotted at a tottering, waddling gait up the winding path to the forest clearing beside the shrine to Tymora on the outskirts of Goresbergh, the half-Faun half-Halfling hedge druid Barnabus T. Brackenleaf, Manager of the World Wildlife Wresting Federation (W.W.W.F.) puffed on on a Shireleaf cigarillo in his finely-tailored tweed suit jacket - the one with the patches in the elbows that he liked so much. Underneath the chestnut brown twill jacket he wore a high-collared burgundy silken shirt the color of port wine with the top buttons undone and a silver chain necklace with a featureless silver disc dangling from it as its pendant. Below all that, Barnabus wore the rich cocoa-colored riding pants that were especially fitted to his diminutive faun-legs, held up by a fine embossed rawhide hide leather belt with a large brass buckle. The tiny professional fight manager Barnabus had combed and slicked his wiry, ruddy hair into a part, waxed his bristly goatee's beard and mustache into fine points, and had anointed fragrant floral oils to both his bathwater and to himself. Beyond all that, Barnabus' rings had been recently polished, his fingernails freshly manicured, and his hooves delicately clipped, filed, and oiled down to a healthy sheen. Despite his distinctly druidic dislike for feeling so clean, spruced-up, and flowery, Mr. Barnabus T. Brackenleaf knew that he had to appear like a dapper and respectable gentleman with a discerning eye for talent in front of his new stable of drafted fighters, especially when he was meeting with them all for the first time in an official managerial capacity. He'd met them each before, of course. After the draft had been completed, Barnabus T. Brackenleaf had seen all his fighters on an individual basis - to welcome them to the team and to make sure they each had enough brainpower to scratch their names upon the parchments' dotted lines - but that didn't mean that Barnabus had personally seen them each of them cut their teeth in the fighting ring, no - not yet at least. From what Barnabus had heard, some of the fighters he'd managed to draft onto his roster this year had a fair amount of prior fighting experience already, whereas others were a little green behind the ears and needed to get in a few beatdowns under their belt before they were going to be ready to win a title for the WWWF. Leaning a little bit on his curled wooden druid's staff, Barnabus T. Brackenleaf crested the top of the winding forest path and entered into a large, flat, circular clearing surrounded by tall trees. The expansive grassy clearing spread before him was broken into fourths around a stonework well with a shrine to Tymora the Lady of Luck beside it. In each of the clearing's quadrants, the boundaries of a fighting ring were roughly carved into the earth and lined with fallen logs in place of benches. In these earth-lined fighting rings, four pairs of unarmed combatants lightly sparred with one another, warming themselves up for the day's training. Two Gnomish grapplers - a man and a woman - were tussling about in the grass of one ring in front of a family of staring raccoons while a Goblin pugilist and another Gnome bobbed and weaved and traded blows in another grassy ring under the study of a gathering of red forest squirrels. Meanwhile, in ring three, a pair of heavyweight grapplers - being a male Orc and a black-scaled female Dragonborn - were trying to trip each other in front of a mother bear and her two cubs, whereas in ring four a pair of middleweight martial artists - being a female Drow and a male Tabaxi - duked it out for the entertainment of a gathering of grazing bucks. Lastly, at the far end of the clearing, a striking, coppery-bronze-scaled Dragonborn was hitting a sand-filled punching bag being held in the air by an ent. At the center of the clearing, directly next to the stonework well, a female Tabaxi slept curled up on the grass while several crows pecked at the ground around her. With a well-practiced gesture that didn't even merit a glance from the halfling satyr, Barnabus T. Brackenleaf tossed a copper coin rattling into the collection plate at the shrine's entrance and kept moving. When the spinning coin struck metal, several of the fighters in the clearing stopped partway through their matches and dropped their guard for a moment to take notice of Barnabus T. Brackenleaf's entrance. The Tabaxi girl sleeping at the foot of the well snapped wide awake and sat bolt upright, mildly embarrassed at getting caught sleeping on the job by the boss-man. "Yes, your manager is in the house!" the hedge druid assented at a high volume, loud enough for all the fighters in the clearing to hear. "Please, don't stop on my account!" As he strode past the pair of middleweight combatants, the small fighting coach took a deep drag off his cigarillo, tapped off the line of ash from the smoldering tip, and winked at the Drow who'd frozen midway through her sparring match with the male Tabaxi. "If anything," Barnabus intoned to the forest clearing at large, "you lot should be going at it harder now that I'm here, to show me what kind of stuff you're made of!" he declared, and resumed pacing about the circle of rings. Barnabus T. Brackenleaf, manager of the World Wildlife Wrestling Federation, always enjoyed the way new fighters' activity picked up whenever he asked them to challenge his expectations. He nodded as he passed the Dragonborn busy slamming away at the bag and continued on. Midway through his tour of the clearing, a large, midnight black crow lighted from the branches of a nearby tree looming above and landed on Barnabus' shoulder. The sharp-eyed creature learned in close to the Satyr's pointed ear and spoke in a croaking, conspiratorial whisper. The druid mumbled and nodded along to the crow's private information. "Hm. Ah. Ahah - yes, good to know. Of course. You don't say? No, thank you - for keeping an eye on things. Yes. Send my love. Off you go then!" The giant crow suddenly leapt from the halfing-faun's shoulder and took flight over the treeline and into the mountains beyond. Hedge druid Barnabus T. Brackenleaf turned back to his fighters and addresses the clearing as a whole. "Okay, stop fighting: now! It's time for you all to gather 'round - I've got new training regimens for you lot from here on out." Barnabus waited for his ten drafted fighters to dust themselves off, to catch their breaths, and to line themselves up before him for further instructions. Without him even asking, the ten weaponless warriors managed to arrange themselves in front of Barnabus roughly in order of their height and weight. "Right. Aston Quillsharpener-" Barnabus looked straight at the gawping Gnome staring vacantly off into the distance. Aston, as though he suddenly realized everyone was looking at him, glanced around and pointed to himself with a confused, blank expression on his face. "Yes, that's you. My little bird tells me you've been working on countering your opponents attacks to trap them in submission holds. Good lad. Keep at it." "Ms. Tenena Wilbur-" "Barnabus switched his gaze over to the dirt-and-grass-smudged female Gnome with the tousled, pinned-back hair and the fiery look in her eyes. "Not so easy to pin someone back when you can't use your cantrips, is it, battlemage? Let's work a little bit more on your defensive techniques and your arm holds - I find that mages of all people tend to forget to keep their guard up most when they're planning on unleashing the hurt." "You!" Barnabus rounded on a Gnome with a wry smirk on his face, a twinkle in his eye, and close-cropped, thinning blonde hair. "If it isn't our own Mr. Igden Cobblebob, the Rithad specialist. While I know you put on a good show for the cheap seats in the back, your fights tend to fall flat when the enemy sees through your illusions, no? You'll be going through the same training as Tenena until you learn to keep your dukes up like you're actually expecting to get hit!" Barnabus continued down the line to a toned female goblin in a hooded sleeveless grey jerkin with her black hair pulled back in a loose bun. "Yes, indeed - Konka the Cutter..." Konka stared with grim determination into the distance with her burnt hazel eyes as Barnabus T. Brackenleaf addressed her. "My little bird friend tells me that you didn't want to be on the same circuit as Wyrk, is that true?" The Halfing Satyr paused, waiting for the Goblin to respond. Her eyes snapped to his, briefly, and she nodded curtly and turned her gaze back to the distance. The manager continued, "Very well, I'll see if I can't put you on the docket for the Amber or Sapphire Cloaks. They're more your color, anyway. Until then, we'll need to work on a little secret weapon of our own: the counter." Barnabus couldn't help but notice the slight rictus at the corner of the Goblin's mouth. She was pleased, and so was he. The Manager of the WWWF moved on down the line, over to his middleweight fighters. "Ah.... Ahina Hanali." Barnabus sighed and bowed to the blue-skinned Drow with a flourish, as though reciting fine poetry. "Aloha and mahalo to you. It means 'greetings' and 'thank you,' in some islanders' tongue," he proffered his hand, explaining himself to the confused elf before him. "Your hand, my dear." The dark blue-skinned Drow with the white topknot and the sneer of haughty disapproval permanently plastered across her pretty elvish face rolled her dark lavender eyes and held out a tape-wrapped hand for Barnabus to hold in his own. She had been expecting a lecherous, semi-romantic gesture of some sort from the half-satyr, but instead of kissing or shaking the offered hand the gentlemanly druid manager merely took her hand gently in his and inspected the marks on the tape on both the knuckles and palms. "Such hands." Barnabus assessed. "Your hits are connecting, but you're trying to hit them when and where the enemy's expecting you. You, too, must learn to surprise with force. Countering training comes for you next." Barnabus dropped Ahina's hand and moved on to the next contender, the male Tabaxi she'd been sparring with. "Plume of Smoke Over the Bleak Fjord," Barnabus began, addressing the feline humanoid, who was trying his best not to let his striped tail give away his excitement and agitation. "Though you may have been taught by some of the best Dwarven drunken masters, that doesn't mean your guard while using Barak-rin's cannot be ba-roken by a simple one-two combo. Improvisation is great - not getting hit is even greater. You will learn to shrug off the blows of your opponents so you can deliver your own, first and foremost. First, though, you will need more experience in the ring." Barnabus suddenly turned on the heel of his hoof and snapped a finger at the next Tabaxi to grab her attention. "Here we are, Ms. Trailing Wood by the Mellow River!" Barnabus stared into the jade eyes of the lithe, female Tabaxi as he addressed her, "so sorry to interrupt your nap earlier, I hope my trainers haven't been working you too hard." Barnabus T. Brackenleaf glanced to the families of animals peacefully rummaging about and grazing in the forest clearing around them. "You're soft." He said decisively, prodding the end of his druid's staff into the Tabaxi's pale-furred belly for extra emphasis. "So we make you harder first. Then - and only then - we can make you hit harder. We understand each other? Good!" Barnabus shuffled over to the last three of the fighters under his payroll: the tallest and the heaviest of the bunch. "Krusk, Krusk, Krusk..." Barnabus intoned, waddling up to the looming, Orc wrestler with the muttonchops. "Mr. Stonetooth, let me be the first to say that I am glad to see you here at the WWWF. You're an Orc who knows an opportunity when he sees one, aren't you? Let's learn you how to capitalize on that peculiar inclination of yours. Don't you worry about the fancy words, either - I'll show you when to hit 'em back real good, I promise." The diminutive fight manager nodded to himself and passed on further down the line. "Here we are: Suria." Barnabus approached the Dragonborn from Chumbyxrinnish and took her two black, clawed hands delicately in his. "You look positively lovely in the post-fight glow. You'd look even better if you'd taken a few less lumps to the face. Ms. Suria of Chumbyxrinnish, I declare you to be under direct orders from the management to protect yourself a little better from here on out. Please!" Barnabus released the talons of one musclebound female Dragonborn and turned to the next: a copper-scaled female Dragonborn, the one that had been working the hanging sandbag earlier. "Last but not least, Bendaetha of Fharnrythngoth..." Barnabus tucked his staff in the crook of his arm, clapped his hands and rubbed them together. "What more can be said about your skills in the ring that haven't already been said? I would gush more, but I wouldn't want to let that get to your dragon-blooded head. You need to learn to put more power behind your strikes. Faerisliesen is nice and all but we're not trying to impress our opponents, we're trying to defeat them with force. But it seems you've already taken that lesson to heart, if the state of that sandbag is any indicator..." The half-Halfling half-Faun druid Barnabus hitched his gnarled thumb towards the ent with the punching bag hanging from a branch. It waved back. "Good. Alright, my squad, I've got a special surprise for you all today! Bag-training time for everybody!" Barnabus turned his back on his ten assembled fighters and put his hands to his mouth in a cone, shouting out into the forest. "Alright, lads, you can come on out now!" the druid hollered. He put his fingers to his lips and let loose a shrill, piercing whistle for the extra noise's emphasis. Nine more ents of different colossal sizes lurched out of the forest's depths and gathered into the circular clearing, each one of them carrying a large burlap sack filled with sand on a rope. "Right!" Barnabus clapped his hands together and cast a steadily-invigorating rejuvenation spell over the creatures and spirits in the glade. "Let's get to it, then!" * * * * * * * Aston Quillsharpener, Gnome featherweight grappler, trains Countering (22 -> 7 xp) Tenena Wilber, Gnome featherweight grappler, trains Defense (16 -> 1 xp) Igden Cobblebob, Gnome featherweight striker, trains Defense (17 -> 2 xp) Konka, Goblin featherweight striker, trains Countering (17 -> 2 xp) Ahina Hanali, Drow middleweight striker, trains Countering (16 -> 1 xp) Plume of Smoke over the Bleak Fjord, Tabaxi middleweight striker, trains nothing for now (10 xp) Trailing Wood by the Mellow River, Tabaxi middlewight grappler, trains Defense (15 -> 0 xp) Krusk Stonetooth, Orc heavyweight grappler, trains Countering (16 -> 1 xp) Suria of Chumbyxrinnish, Dragonborn heavyweight grappler, trains Defense (16 -> 1 xp) Bendaetha of Fharnrythngoth, Dragonborn heavyweight striker, trains nothing for now (10 xp) If acceptable to The Fivefold Way Monastery, led by Oki the Pentamaster (played by Plutonis) and The Most Noble Order of the Squared Circle, led by Lady Giliea Lightblade (played by Shogeton), the World Wildlife Wrestling Federation, led by Barnabus T. Brackenleaf, would like to switch Konka with Aston Quillsharpener, so that Konka would fight Ribeh at the Sapphire Cloak stage and Aston Quillsharpener would fight Scah at the Sunstone Cloak stage. If the above proposal is unacceptable to one or both parties, Barnabus T. Brackenleaf would ask for this exchange instead: If acceptable to The Fivefold Way Monastery, led by Oki the Pentamaster (played by Plutonis) and The Brawler's Parliament, led by Unit 7160523 (played by Rhyos), the World Wildlife Wrestling Federation, led by Barnabus T. Brackenleaf, would like to switch Konka with Tenena Wilbur, so that Konka would fight Vanna Elderberry at the Amber Cloak stage and Tenena Wilbur would fight Scah at the Sunstone Cloak stage. If both above proposals are deemed unacceptable to one or more involved parties, Barnabus T Brackenleaf will confirm all of the WWWF's fights as listed.
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May 4, 2019 09:56
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