We Are The Champions

John saw a giant white podium behind them and a rotund, friendly looking elf standing in front of it with a microphone. John only recognized him by his voice, “Let’s hear it for the new Jorako Circuit Champions! If you could state your title as you take your place…”

“Muscleman!” Robert spoke into the microphone, jokingly flexing. It was an odd thing to see the man who had spoken so eloquently do. He took his place at third, the lowest on the podium. He was met with a thunderous applause, several spectators cheering his name.

“The Best Bassist - IN THE UNIVERSE!” Jenny shouted, strumming her bass. She took her place at second, between first and third. Hundreds of spectators - especially the men - stood up from their seats, whistling and cheering her name. “The Princes of the Universe” played for a short while, and John found it was hard to believe that it was pure coincidence that they played a Queen song for her.

“The Gamer!” John yelled, Jumping onto the top of the podium - first place. Facing the crowd, his mind abuzz with the endless cheers of hundreds of spectators in person (and the thousands watching on television that he didn’t see), he felt at peace with the world. They rose from their seats and began chanting his moniker as the climax of “Wild West Hero” played - likely because of the duster he wore.

Quest Complete: Wacky Races!
Main Objective: Complete
Rewards: +2,000 XP, +$1,500, +2 Skill Points
Optional Objective 1: Complete
Rewards: +2,500 XP, +$2,000, +1 Skill Evolution Point
Optional Objectives 2 & 3: N/A
Optional Objective 4: Complete
Rewards: Driving, 1 Skill Point

New Skill: Driving, Level 6, Passive
Your cumulative skill when it comes to driving any motorized, land-based vehicle. The higher the level, the more you can get out of vehicles and the more impressive tricks you can pull off successfully.

Never did get my license, despite all that practicing, John thought, accepting a gold trophy cup from the announcer. It felt exceedingly heavy, and he used Advanced Spy on it.

The Trophy attribute seemed a little redundant, so he figured there was more to it than that. Tapping it, he saw he was right.

Trophy, Attribute
If you sell this, I will judge you. It’s more worth it to just keep it, trust me.

These messages keep getting weirder and weirder. I was tempted to sell it when I saw the comment in the description about its value, but I’m proud of working with these guys. I was never going to sell it, John thought, tucking it into his inventory.

Sure you weren’t

“That’s all for tonight folks! Stay tuned for mixed-race UFC! The main card fight you’ve all been waiting for: the Desert Elf from Hell, Max Hallowed!” he paused for a moment as he waited for the cheers to die down. “Versus the Raging Drunken Halfing, Conned Gregor!” The crowd had forgotten about the racers at this point as they filed out of the stands, assumingly toward the fight that was happening soon.

“Alright, you three, go over to that central tower there and present your trophies at the entrance,” the Announcer, who produced nothing when John tried to Advanced Spy him, explained. His voice sounded lackluster when it wasn’t magically enhanced and broadcast over the speakers, and he quickly turned from them, following the spectators toward the UFC arena nearby.

A rainbow of people awaited them as they walked past - literally. They had actually arranged themselves in order of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple. Oni on the left, orcs and ogres in the middle, and elves on the right. People of all kinds reached over the rope separating them from the champions, begging for autographs and pictures.

Jenny, who had grown used to that kind of thing after playing in the Inferno for so long, casually took an offered smart phone and snapped a picture of herself with a bald, young looking orc. An elf that looked strikingly similar to the ones John had eliminated (except with a much happier expression) reached out toward him with a pen and pad. He signed his moniker, blowing her a kiss in the process. She fainted. He was shocked for a moment but quickly recovered, handing her friend the pad he had signed. Robert flicked his cigar into the crowd of female Oni, who immediately started fighting over it.

Making it to the door, John, Robert and Jenny presented their trophies to the gigantic gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the tower they had been directed to. He took a briefcase out of his pocket and said in a gravelly voice, “Babel Fish oil?” Robert refused him but explained to them that it was a temporary omni-translator. The robot didn’t need it, as he already knew hundreds of languages both Abyssal and Earthian. John looked at the pills suspiciously, but with a pat on the back, Robert assured him that they were what the creature said they were. John and Jenny each swallowed one down, figuring that they could only help.

With that done, they looked up at the tower they were about to enter. Its body rose like a spire until it flared into a giant sphere at the top. “The translator should last about twenty-four hours,” Robert explained as the trio climbed the stairs into the main room, which was structured like an amphitheater and had to be two or three times the size of his entire house. A stage dominated one side, and a bar another. The main, middle part was a dance floor. Upon seeing who entered, half the patrons raised their glasses to the champions.

John noticed that the only other unoccupied wall - the one across from the bar - was lit up with screens which switched upon them entering from a view of the racetrack to something similar to UFC cages. A tall, bulky, brown-skinned elf stood solemnly in one corner, talking to a much shorter, less bulky elf of the same race who had to be his trainer. In the other corner a halfling sat, taking a long swig from a flask. His trainer seemed to be talking to him, but the halfling paid him no mind.

Robert went off to the bar, while Jenny was looking at the amps on the stage with immense fascination. John was so distracted by seeing where his friends had gone off to that he didn’t even notice someone had been approaching him until she grabbed his arm. Looking at the women who had dragged him onto the dance floor, he saw it was the same drow who he had fought. “I assume you weren’t stupid enough to turn down the translator at the entrance,” she whispered, guiding his one hand to her hip and taking the other in hers. Classy music filled the air, and she took the lead since he had no idea how to dance.

“You would assume correct,” John replied, going along with it. He glanced at the stage and saw Jenny sneaking behind it, assumedly to take a closer look at their sound set-up. “You have no reason to be so hostile, I beat you fair and square,” John commented, prompting her to step on his foot. Now that he got a close look at her, he saw that she couldn’t have been much older than Jenny, at least, by appearance.

“You’re weaker than me,” she hissed, “at least you appeared to be. I want to challenge you to a formal duel.” She led him over to an alcove near the steps towards the screens, and he noticed that it was a weapons rack. “If you refuse in front of all these people, you’ll lose the respect you gained in winning the race. I’d like to see you beat me under truly fair conditions.”

Feeling confident off the heels of his latest victory, he smoothly replied, “We better get started quickly, wouldn’t want to distract these fine people from the titlecard fight happening soon.”

She smirked and whispered something to one of the waiters, a slim moon elf dressed smartly. He immediately rushed off, and John watched as he whispered something to the bartender, who whispered something to one of the guards. “We have an official challenge!” a too familiar voice boomed, and John watched as the announcer was lowered from the ceiling on an automated spire.

“You again? I thought you went to go narrate that fight,” John said, jabbing his thumb at the screens behind them.

“I’m wherever there’s drama and action, kid,” the Announcer replied, and John respected that notion, even if he didn’t exactly understand how the man pulled it off.

“Unblooded Houndiira Myduis of the Nightsisters has challenged John Newman to a duel regarding their honor! We’ll have three rounds, with no damaging spells. Win by knockout or technical knockout! Supervisors will interfere if there would be a ****, in which case the prospective survivor automatically wins. Contenders, choose your weapons!” the Announcer boomed into his microphone. The classy music cut off as his voice was broadcast to the room. The dance floor expanded, the stairs pulling back into bricked walls.
Taking a Desert Eagle off the weapons rack, John noticed Houndiira took a rapier and a dagger. A bubble formed over the dance floor, flashing white for a moment before becoming transparent. Jenny and Robert stood at the edge with front-row seats. How’d you get yourself into this one, Johnny?

Not my fault! he replied mentally, taking a place opposite his opponent. A moon elf in priestly robes came down, and immediately the area was bathed in a radiant golden light. Doesn’t she look familiar?

You have been restored to full HP and MP!

“I say! That’s the woman who attacked my car! Kick her ass, John!” Robert called down, and John heard Jenny send over, Ditto.

“Our contestants have taken their places! Ready?