The Arena Battle at Lion's Arch:
A Play.
Background: During the reformation of Overwatch, some heroes of Overwatch were tasked with extracting information from several rogue members of a criminal organization known as the Gilded Rings. Unfortunately for the six, the normal weapons they donned were left behind; only able to use whatever the armory had to offer.
The Iron Bulwark:
Rytlock Brimstone:
Tribune to Blood Legion and the Guild Master to Dragon's Watch. Former arena gladiator, now turned Overwatch Agent and collaborator.
Reinhardt Wilhelm:
Colonel and Agent of Overwatch, close friend to Pliskin Hall, he is appointed as the leader of the Iron Bulwark.
Sly Cooper:
Master thief and reformed criminal, he now supports Overwatch to the maximum extent of his influence.
Pliskin Hall:
Adventurer and Overwatch agent, he was hastily brought in from an operation at the Berlin Opera to partake in the gladiatorial bouts.
Nathan Drake:
World renowned explorer and Overwatch contact, he was pressured into signing up to clear up a former incident with S.H.I.E.L.D.
Grog Strongjaw:
Arena champion and former member of a guild, he now travels from arena to arena to prove his worth following the adventures with Vox Machina.
Attendants
Guards
Waiters
A Chef
Foreman
Hector
Magnus, the Bloody Handed
The Gilded Ring: (Silent)
Act One:
Scene One
[The underground pits of the Lion's Arch Arena, the final match is to be held, metal clanking and sparring is audible.]
[Enter Pliskin and Reinhardt]
Pliskin: I can't believe you dragged me out here Rein! Got any word about that?
Reinhardt: Sighs I vish there vas some other method dear friend, but we need anyone das vas villing to help.
Pliskin: [Interjected] Though I assume that you couldn't get a meatier person to like, do some more lifting 'eh?
He nudges Reinhardt's shoulderplate.
Reinhardt: Vell, das one thing, though you're ze only one on my contacts list!
Pliskin: (Shaking head) Did you even try, and I mean, try to call anyone else but me?
Reinhardt: Of course not! You're the only one I have!
[Enter Sly, holding his cane.]
Sly: (Pacing around, eying the room) Managed to retrieve my cane, sabotaged the enemy's equipment, and got us a few weapons.
[Enter Nathan Drake]
Nathan Drake: Panting Yeah, managed, to uh, unscrew 'em and those, bolts.
He looks at Pliskin
Nice tux.
Pliskin: (Eying his clothing) Right, (He chuckles) forgot about that!
Sly: Couldn't you have, well I don't know, changed, your choice of clothing?
Pliskin: At least I'm fighting in style.
[They grimace]
Reinhardt: Ja! But wait until those Gilded Rings charge at zhe one wearing zhe tailcoat!
Pliskin: Scoffs Do you have any other suggestions as to my fashion choice?
[They nod their heads]
Nathan Drake: (Inhales) Well. Now that's settled with, who wants to tell the brute we're ready?
[Pliskin appears confused]
Pliskin: Who's this brute?
Reinhardt: It's another pit fighter, his name is-
Sly: [Interjected] Grog. Grog Strongjaw. The most recent arena champion here.
Nathan Drake: Yeah, heard he's this beast of a goliath!
Sly: He's actually a goliath.
He tips his hat.
Reinhardt: Zhat's not true at all! Allegedly, he's slaughtered countless innocents, and has shown no honor in the face of battle!
He spits on the floor.
Bah, like he's some sort of, renowned mercenary of fame.
Pliskin: Seems like a mean guy.
Nathan Drake: (Darting his head around) Look, I don't want to insult the guy but, you think it's some sort of act he's putting on?
Pliskin: Don't know. Never met him. Rein, you ever meet him before?
Reinhardt: (Shakes his head) Nein.
Pliskin: Have you guys met him before landing yourselves here?
[Both Sly and Nathan nod their heads.]
[Enter Grog]
[Footsteps are audible in the background]
Sly: I think that could be him.
Grog: Allroight you mutton chops listen up! I 'ave the most experience here and I will lead your sorry asses to victory! Got any questions?
Sly and Nathan: (Timidly) No Grog.
Grog: Good! Now, fetch our weapons and uh, we'll be off slaying!
Sly and Nathan: (Bowing their heads) Right away Grog.
[Exeunt Sly and Nathan]
Grog: Ah, Reinhardt.
(Pats his back)
You got a plan or two or three?
Reinhardt: (Chuckles) Hah! I made one, and another, though with Rytlock's consent of course.
Grog: (Looks at Pliskin) And who's the little pup that came in?
Reinhardt: Oh, zhat's just P-
Pliskin: [Interjected] Pliskin, Pliskin Hall.
He attempts to shake his hand, albeit weakly.
Brother in arms to Reinhardt Wilhelm and no stranger to the arena!
Grog: (Grinning) This, this is the help you got us? The last man for our six man team?
Reinhardt: Ja! Isn't he just wunderball for zhe team!
Grog: (Laughing) He-he's pathetic! Look at him! Wearing some fancy-smancy rich clothing with a' prim and proper bowtie huh?
Pliskin: (Smirking) Pathetic is one word to describe it.
Grog: So the pup can speak too!
Pliskin: Doing it right now. Can the Grog fight with a sword?
Grog: 'course I can! Can the pup thrust as well?
Pliskin: Learned that in fencing.
Grog: Can the pup fight well then?
Pliskin: I've been fighting with you, well, ever since I set my eyes on you.
Grog: (Lunges at Pliskin but is blocked by Reinhardt) Testing me boy?
Reinhardt: Zhat vill be enough Grog.
Pliskin: (Gesturing Reinhardt aside) I'm sure our new acquaintance understands it's playful banter.
Grog: (After backing away): Yeah, sure it's playful banter!
Reinhardt: Zhen I shall give you our strategy.
(Hands over papers)
Grog: What's this?
(Rummages through the documents, appears confused.)
Can't read the damn thing!
Reinhardt: It vas Rytlock's idea.
Pliskin: Maybe if you try reading it like this,
(Rearranges the paper)
You can understand it?
Grog: (Still looking at the paper) Still can't see it!
Reinhardt: (Smirking) Heh, wait for Rytlock if you can't read it.
Grog: (Eying Reinhardt) Another challenger I suppose? Maybe if ya' remove that fancy armor we can duke it out.
Reinhardt: I'd have to deny that request, though if you were armored zhe-
Pliskin: [Interjected] Easy there Rein, Grog. We're a team right?
Grog: A teammate gladly accepts a spar if that's the case.
[Enter Rytlock]
Rytlock: (Snarling) Alright, listen up. If you got a problem with the plans I made then you gotta go bug me then.
Pliskin: Hey there Rytlock.
Rytlock: And hello to you too.
(Moves to face Grog)
Got any questions then?
Grog: I got one.
(Holds the papers in his hand)
Can't read your brilliant ideas.
Rytlock: Torch that. We're winging it.
Grog: Rightfully so!
Reinhardt: [Interjected] Are you out of your mind?
Rytlock: Look, I've been here before. Know how these ruffians fight like the back of my claws.
Reinhardt: These are zhe arena champions! Remember vhat happened when you fought Eir and her team?
Rytlock: That was a lack of coordination between the three of us.
Reinhardt: So essentially a lack of a plan?
Rytlock: No, we had, a plan. Thing was those two got under my fur and went off and did their own little flame dance.
Grog: I agree with the German for once.
Rytlock: I'm leading, and I'm saying that I'm tearing the plan to flames.
Reinhardt: Ja, but does zhat me we're going to win?
Rytlock: 'course we are. Thanks to Rein-
Grog: [Interjected] Me mostly.
Pliskin: Sighs We seriously have to deal with this?
Rytlock: Not under my watch.
Grog: Alright, you're our captain. I bet I've won an' fought in more arenas than you.
Pliskin: We're dealing with this aren't we?
Rytlock: Look punk, you might of fought around the globe but I fought here. Take it's your first time here?
Grog: Fourth.
Rytlock: Reinhardt?
Reinhardt: Third.
Rytlock: Pliskin?
Pliskin: Second.
The scene is quiet for a moment, Rytlock paces around in disbelief.
Grog: Bit outnumbered there 'eh Rytlock?
Rytlock: Well then. Guess I'm gonna have to remake those over dinner.
[Exeunt]
Scene Two:
[The Armory of the arena, a dark and cold place with a few torches to light the room.]
[Enter Sly and Nathan]
Sly: You know, that Grog isn't the brightest one here.
(He turns around to check the door)
Heard he can't even read.
Nathan Drake: You think? He's the bulkiest dude here.
Sly: That too, though don't you think our team is well,
(He pauses)
Overbearing?
Nathan Drake: Was thinking you'd say overweight.
Sly: I mean, majority of them are over their heads.
Nathan Drake: It's practically a requirement to join Overwatch.
Sly: You're heads over heels with that one.
Nathan Drake: I'm just over it.
Sly: Sighing Why are we here anyways?
Nathan Drake: Collecting weapons? Damn place needs some touch ups.
Sly: But that has me thinking, why can't we call the shots in the arena?
Nathan Drake: Have you actually been in an arena?
Sly: Of course I have! Heists, thieveries, sabotage-
Nathan Drake: [Interjected] No, like actually fought in an arena.
Sly: Oh you mean that type of visit. No I haven't.
Nathan Drake: These guys can fucking kill you if you aren't watching! One wrong move and *splat* you're dead!
Sly: I mean if you watch your back or know what you're doing then the likelihood decreases.
(Pauses)
An opinion of course.
Nathan Drake: Like you're gonna call the shots on this one.
Sly: (While picking up weapons) That depends if the match goes to shit. 'Course we did sabotage and rile up the Rings.
Nathan Drake: I wonder how that's gonna turn out.
(He begins to pick up weapons)
Totally didn't bet or anything.
Sly: Betting you did though.
Nathan Drake: Well you got me then.
Sly: Chuckles Who are you betting on then?
Nathan Drake: (Slyly gives him a grin) Three hundred gold on the Gilded Rings.
Sly: (Instantly looks at Nathan) You're kidding.
Nathan Drake: Afraid not pal.
Sly: You bet three hundred? Not even at least a hundred?
(Places the weapons against the door)
I take that you don't have high expectations for this arena team.
Nathan Drake: No shit. You think with all the problems in the past week or so we'd be claiming gold and standing on the podium?
Sly: I mean we did last this far though.
Nathan Drake: Exactly, we quote lasted unquote. You bet that we're actually gonna last?
Sly: Sure, if your's truly gets to direct this performance.
Nathan Drake: Fair comparison, but why the hell are we down here exactly?
Sly: Gathering weapons of course. Armor, all the goods Nate.
Nate: Yeah,
(He laughs to himself)
What did we need again?
Sly: According to Rytlock's plan, we need a crap-ton of gunpowder, spears, and anything metal.
Nathan Drake: Wasn't that the scrapped one Rytlock had in mind?
Sly: No, the second one after he trashed the fourth one during breakfast.
Nathan Drake: Told 'ya. We're gonna get our asses handed to us.
Sly: I'm just following what the most recent one was.
Nathan Drake: (Eyes set on rifles) I can see what the gunpowder is for.
Sly: Might want to take two or three.
Nathan Drake: I take it Pliskin's gonna be firing away?
Sly: He usually does.
Nathan Drake: Gonna make that three guns then. But hey,
(He picks up a pistol from a rack on the back wall.)
Ever done smuggling before?
Sly: I'm familiar with it. Whaddaya got?
Nathan Drake: How about, we smuggle these pistols in?
Sly: Don't be crazy, well. It can work. Depends if there's guards checking every weapon we use.
Nathan Drake: Thinking about hiding them in our pockets?
Sly: Pistols that caliber can't fit inside typical pockets.
Nathan Drake: No this,
(He holds a 9 millimeter pistol.)
Think this can fit?
Sly: Maybe, depends on what we're gonna wear.
Nathan Drake: I'm gonna take it then.
Sly: All on you, all on you.
(There is a brief pause as they scramble to grab whatever they can get. Then there is sudden banging.)
Guard One: Who goes there? Open the door at once!
(Sly and Nathan remain quiet, they hid behind some weapon racks though the rattling can be heard.)
Guard One: If anyone's in there we're giving you five seconds to come out!
(Sly and Nathan begin inching backward backstage)
Guard One: (In numerical order) One… two… three… four…
(While the guard is counting down, the duo is smashing down the back wall.)
Guard One: Five!
(The guards ram down the door, yet the only scene is a plundered armory.)
Guard One: Find them you rats!
(He picks up a helmet and shoves it in another guard's hands.)
Sly: (From Backstage) You'll think they'll find us here?
Nathan Drake: Only if you keep talking.
Sly: This is the exact problem with the six, no, five of us. We can't shut up.
Nathan Drake: Can't blame me!
Sly: Now shut up!
[Exeunt Sly and Nathan]
Guard One: (Continues to search the room) If we must rob and beat every fighter here for those weapons, we'll do so!
Guard Two: But sir! We found-!
Guard One: [Interjected] I don't care for hidden passages or causeways! If any pit fighter dares to smuggle a weapon into the pit, hah, they'll wish a life sentence was offered!
[Exeunt]
Scene Three:
[A banquet hall, the majority of the characters are seated and eating.]
[Enter Attendants, Waiters, and Chef]
Attendant One: They're getting a banquet to themselves?
Attendant Two: Seems fair if death is on the line.
Attendant One: Why not the other gladiators locked up in their own filth?
Attendant Two: Likely because they're famous here.
Attendant One: If only, Pauses If only anyone can be like the Strongjaw there.
Waiter One: (Passing by) Strongjaw? Grog? Don't count on a good showing if you ask me.
(He walks away)
Attendant One: But wouldn't it be better if one of the more, lower ranked gladiators be a part of this dream team?
Attendant Two: It is only a matter of time friend. Don't imagine Grog for remaining in his throne for long.
(They take out a lute and a violin and play.)
Rytlock: Ah, gotta love the shrimp they serve here.
Pliskin: Didn't we get a banquet after defeating that lieutenant?
Rytlock: (Chews on his food) Oh yeah! Hah, never going to get on a boat ever again!
Nathan Drake: It honestly depends on the situation Rytlock.
Rytlock: Scoffs Might I remind you that a certain someone got seasick on our voyage to Stormwind?
Nathan Drake: (Pauses) Well I uh, admit to that.
Rytlock: Look, I know we got beef with each other but it's a banquet. A decent one at best.
(The music continues to play)
Attendant Two: Look at that. They all hate each other.
Attendant One: Not really however. You see that dressed one at the end of the table?
Attendant Two: I do.
Attendant One: That's allegedly Pliskin Hall. Boy has a charm to him.
Attendant Two: What do you mean allegedly?
Attendant One: (Puts down his violin.) I mean it is him, face, hair, impeccable way of socializing.
Attendant Two: (Chuckles, puts down the lute.) He's naive. Thinks everyone is either respecting him or trusting of him.
Attendant One: What makes you say that?
Attendant Two: It's his character. Innocent smile and all.
Attendant One: So you mean he's too trusting?
Attendant Two: Sighs Wouldn't you like the liberty of finding out for yourself or would you have me spoil the fun?
(The chef walks past)
Chef: And you yourselves are spoiling the fun.
(The two attendants play again)
Grog: Food's terrible.
Pliskin: I mean it must be better than what you're served with the other gladiums here.
Grog: It's still terrible.
Pliskin: Have you tried the steak at least? It's good. To me though.
Reinhardt: (Leaning to whisper to Pliskin) He demanded everzhing on zhe menu.
Pliskin: (Whispering back) So you say then.
Reinhardt: Just to let you know Chris.
(He winks at him.)
Grog: Oi'! Bring me more ale!
Sly: Does he always demand booze twenty four seven?
Rytlock: Nulls the pain.
Sly: Don't you consume whiskey too?
Rytlock: It's recreational, I commissioned the Citadel to build a distillery on those damned ruins.
Sly: But you still drink whiskey though?
Rytlock: I do. And I'm drinking some right now.
Grog: Whiskey? Hah. Piss poor drink.
Rytlock: I guess you never tasted the finest Black Whiskey from the Citadel?
Grog: Never had the fortune to.
Rytlock: How 'bout I get you some? I am Blood Legion though. Tribune too.
Grog: I wouldn't care much for it.
Rytlock: I'll get you some.
(He hails a waiter over.)
Get me some of my Black Whiskey, for the big guy over there.
Waiter One: Right away sir.
(He walks away.)
Grog: If you promised me, then you must honor it.
Rytlock: Of course I will. Tribune's honor.
Grog: Your honor? Scoffing Rytlock 'ere claims he has some honor!
(He slams the banquet table.)
Rytlock: Whatever, here he comes.
(The waiter whispers unintelligible words in his ear.)
(Rytlock responds with a few other words in his ear)
(Whispered:) Go tell him then.
He points to Grog, arms crossed with his gaze set towards Rytlock.
Waiter One: (Walking towards Grog) I'm sorry, but we don't carry your friend's whiskey here.
Grog: (Scooting forward) So the charr doesn't have his ale?!
Rytlock: Can't blame me for the diplomatic situation.
Grog: You have no honor!
(He draws his battleaxe.)
Rytlock: You really want to do this now huh?
(He draws Sohothin, a flaming blade.)
Grog: (Strikes first, an arcing blow to smash Rytlock's head, but the axe is parried by his sword.)
You brought us nothing but trouble!
(They fight.)
Rytlock: (Attempts to riposte, Grog manages to dodge the slash.)
What you're saying is that hate my leading style!
Grog: That's what I'm saying!
Rytlock: (Manages to lock weapons with Grog.)
Then you gotta accept it then!
Grog: (Drops his axe and punches Rytlock; his sword drops and the flame vanishes. He picks up a chair yet it is crushed to pieces.)
I've fought and killed and bruised and battered more than you have here in this arena!
(He punches Rytlock's abdomen.)
I deserve every right to lead this motley team!
Pliskin: (Standing and draws his cavalry sabre.)
What did he say?!
Reinhardt: Sit down junger Wolf.
[The people in the scene all watch the scuffle.]
Reinhardt: (Activates his shield) Enough!
(Muttered):Du verdammte Idioten …
You two are only sowing more division in zhis team!
(Rytlock and Grog are separated by Reinhardt's body, which is large enough to divide them.)
Pliskin, Sly, and Nathan Drake: Reinhardt-
Reinhardt: [Interjected] Nein.
(Facing Rytlock.)
I've called you a friend Rytlock, but I cannot tolerate zhis behavior any longer.
(Facing Grog)
And you, Herr Grog.
Grog: Yeah?
Reinhardt: I cannot tolerate you and your constant complaining. So vhat if Rytlock doesn't have a plan? So vhat if, he didn't have your liquor?
(He spits on the floor)
Honorless coward.
Grog: So you dare insult my honor too 'eh? I choose to rage!
(He leaps forward, smashing his battleaxe against his shield.)
Pliskin: No!
(He draws his cavalry sabre.)
Have at thee! Allez!
Rytlock: (Standing up, motioning to the crowd.) Get back! It's their fight now.
Pliskin: (Attempts to riposte Grog's second blow to Reinhardt's shield, the sound of steel and energy pulsing is audible.)
Disloyal bastard!
(Another strike is attempted, Pliskin manages to counter the blow.)
Disgraceful brute!
Reinhardt: (Pushes his shield against Grog, he later disengages from the counterattack.)
Dammit!
Pliskin: (Attempts to slide around him, though crashes against a table. He takes to swinging his sword at him though only hits the handle and surrounding tables.)
Rrragh! Rats!
[The crowd watches the fight, Sly draws his cane while Nathan Drake holds his pistol.]
Grog: Hah! Giving up human?
Pliskin: Snarls Nrragh!
Grog: Laughing You're full of it aren't 'ya!
Pliskin: Not as much as you think!
Grog: (Gives Reinhardt a grin and pushes himself forward passing through his barrier. He manages to bodyslam Pliskin to a table.)
Still holding onto- ARGH!
Pliskin: (Manages to cut Grog's right leg as he attempts to knock him out. They both drop their weapons.)
My friends?
Rytlock: (Running towards Grog's bleeding body.) Take him to the medical ward. I'll handle the rest.
Attendant One: (Bowing head.) Right away.
(Attendants take out a cot, and require the assistance of Rytlock and the other attendant to usher Grog away. He groans in pain.)
[Exeunt Grog and Attendants.]
Rytlock: (Holds his hand to help Pliskin up, he accepts.) What were you thinking kid?
Pliskin: Grunts, pops his shoulder back into place. Had to help Reinhardt.
Rytlock: Had to charge in huh?
Reinhardt: It's nothing Rytlock. He still has lots to learn.
Rytlock: Agreed. Don't want our little friend to get his head knocked off too soon.
Pliskin: (Sarcastically) Little friend indeed.
Where the hell are they hauling him to? The medical ward?
Rytlock: They're dumping him in the bay, (Pauses)
Of course they're bringing him to those medics.
Reinhardt: We need to get our act together. Overwatch cannot have some of zhe best members have a leadership dispute.
Rytlock: Right, that's why your's truly is organizing a last minute warband team-pep rally.
Nate, Sly, meet us upstairs.
Nathan and Sly: [In unison] Got it!
[Exeunt Sly and Nathan]
Rytlock: Pliskin, Reinhardt, got time for a word or two?
Pliskin: Sure.
Reinhardt: Of course.
Rytlock: Pauses Look, I know that Grog and I don't see eye to eye with each other but, he's an old friend of mine.
Pliskin: Old friend you say?
Rytlock: Yeah, remember that time when the guild was all hung up here in Lion's Arch or two?
Pliskin: The time you saved my ass when I fell in the pits?
Rytlock: Riiight. Anyways, that night after some shenanigans with Logan and Garm, stumbled across that Vox Machina guild.
(He gives off a faint smile.)
I arm-wrestled their strongest member. Guess who that was?
Pliskin and Reinhardt: [In unison] Grog.
Rytlock: Yeah. We chatted and all that. Thought he was a cool guy at best. Seems like he's changed.
Reinhardt: Surely. I heard he and his guild have gone zheir separate ways.
Rytlock: May be.
Pliskin: People change all the time, but I got one question to ask.
Rytlock: Shoot it at me kid.
Pliskin: Was he always that rebellious?
Rytlock: Hell he was. Though he was more kept in line due to that gnome. Think they called her Pike.
Pliskin: I mean if she died then obviously he has to take a turn for the worse.
Rytlock: Maybe so.
Reinhardt: Have you kept any tabs with he and his guild though.
Rytlock: Can't say that I have. Can't say that I didn't.
Pliskin: Chuckling You're always mysterious Rytlock.
Rytlock: I'm just more reluctant to let loose on my past.
Pliskin: That sword, your homeland. Don't have a lot of answers do you?
Rytlock: Kid, the truth is ugly. But, seeing you're seventeen I don't think you can handle it.
Pliskin: Why?
Rytlock: Considering you charged in headfirst to duel that goliath, I don't think you're gonna like my story.
Pliskin: Oh please, I can take backstories and exposition quite well if you ask me.
Reinhardt: I beg to differ. Remember when I told you the story of your parents?
Pliskin: Whatever, I actually handled the story of my mother dying at Eichenwalde and my father dying at Hyjal. Besides, I consider you more of a dad and a brother more than my actual parents.
Reinhardt: Smirks You shouldn't have.
But that doesn't justify rushing in to save my arse.
Pliskin: Consider it good faith for me to rush in and charge that son-of-a-bitch.
Reinhardt: It can sometimes cause greater damage than harm. Considering the wreck we made out of this banquet hall.
Rytlock: Yeah, considering that we trashed the place.
Pliskin: Are we just going to leave it here?
Rytlock: Probably. Gonna be one hell of a mess those attendants are gonna have to fix.
Pliskin: We can fix it ourselves Rytlock.
Rytlock: Sighing Considering we're on a pretty tight schedule here, I'm just gonna leave this mess to clean up.
Pliskin: Anyone here at least that would be kind enough repair this? Or like sort this out?
Reinhardt: I don't see anyvone that would fix it here but ourselves.
Pliskin: (Shrugging at Reinhardt's comment.) Whatever. I usually ask or offer to help before I start doing.
Rytlock: Just leave it. Guaranteed some mage or wizard knows Reparo or some sort of repair spell.
Pliskin: So where do we meet you?
Rytlock: Upstairs. As always.
[Exit Rytlock]
Pliskin: Well Rein, you going?
Reinhardt: After you Pliskin.
[Exeunt]
End of Act One