Strongwood was nothing more than a spec on the massive continent of Faroline. The people there were a mix of half-elves, humans, and orcs, living at the edge of the forest. Everyone was either a farmer or a lumberman like their father before them, and their father before them. Nothing of interest ever happened in the village. They were stuck, going about their lives always wanting more. They needed…something. They needed… the FWF.
That day would come on a bright sunny morning as the village began to stir with the first signs of life. From the clouds emerged something no one had ever seen before. A giant flying vessel covered in a bright red tarp with twin turbines pushing it from behind. The villagers stopped in their tracks and watched as it descended onto a piece of land on the outside of town. Everyone dropped their things and ran to see what was happening. Some grabbed pitchforks and makeshift weapons, unsure of what lay behind that tarp, but determined to defend their families regardless.
As they approached, a single man emerged from beneath the tarp. He was a tall, slender man, in a long navy blue robe with long white hair and beard of similar length and color. The stranger regarded the villagers with a warm smile and a polite nod before turning back to the tarp. He stretched his arms toward the sky. A long wooden staff adorned with a bright blue crystal at the top shot out from beneath his sleeve and into his hands.
The villagers gasped and readied their weapons unsure of what the old man would do next. He was not phased though. He simply muttered an incantation to himself and brought the staff down into the ground. The onlookers tensed as they waited for what would happen next. It began with a small breeze, soon picking up to a powerful a gust that left many trying to find their feet. The ropes holding down the tarp snapped sending it flying off into the distance.
Once it was completely out of sight, the old man lifted the staff out of the ground. With that wind died and villagers regained their bearings. Their jaws dropped when they saw what awaited them. Before them stood a massive arena bigger than anything they had ever seen before. Row after row of seats towered over them with towers in each corner peeking up from above them. The crowd was stunned as they tried to figure out what it was they looking at. The old man turned back to them and tapped on the crystal atop of his staff till it glowed a green color.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" His voice boomed, enhanced by the magic of his staff. "Boys and girls! Come one come all to the most unprecedented spectacle of athleticism you have ever seen! Tonight you are all invited to attend the first-ever performance of the Faroline Wrestling Federation! Watch as gladiators from across the continent compete against one another for your entertainment in a test of strength of skill the likes of which you have never seen! The doors open at sunset and admission is nothing more than a single gold piece! I assure you, ladies and gentlemen, you will not want to miss this!"
With this, the old man dimed his staff and retired back into the arena leaving the villagers to ponder over what they had just heard. He slumped against the dimly lit halls of the entryway and let out a sigh of relief. He did it. He had assembled the arena and gotten it to the village in one piece. Now he just needed to draw in the people.
From the shadows emerged a young man with short, cropped black hair, dressed in fine black and white garments with a slitted eye emblazoned on his tunic. He stroked his short bushy beard curiously as he watched the old man catch his breath.
"Well done, wizard," He said disingenuously.
"Prince Balor," The old man acknowledged him between breaths. The sight of the young prince made him straighten up a little. "I should have known you'd be lurking about back here."
"I am simply doing that which my father asked me to do."
"Which is?"
"Make sure you handle his assets properly" The prince smirked. "Afterall, it was his money that funded this venture of yours. He simply wants me to assure that he gets it back. One way or another." The wizard stared at Prince Balor with pure contempt. Out of all of the representatives, the king of the north could have sent he chose his pissant of a third son.
"Your father will get his gold, don't worry."
"He'd better Polonius. Or it's your head." The wizard began walking toward the back to collect his things but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see the prince's curious eyes fixed on him once more.
"Just one more question," He said. "What makes you think any of this will work?" Polonius stared at him, trying to judge if he was being mocked or not. He brushed the prince's hand off his shoulder and turned back to the dark corridor that waited before him.
"It will work," He muttered. "Because it has too." With that he retired to the back, emerging an hour later with a worn pointed hat fixed atop his head, a roll of poster strapped to his back, and a bag of flyers slung over his shoulder. He journeyed into the village and spent the morning nailing posters up to every wall he could find. Once they had been plastered across town Polonius stood in the center of the village passing out flyers to anyone who passed.
By the time the sun began to go down Polonius had managed to generate a buzz throughout the village. Feeling his work sufficiently done he returned to the arena and waited at the gates. The prince watched with disapproving eyes as Polonius paced back and forth. The old wizard had staked everything on this and needed it to work. His hope dwindled as the sun began to sink below the horizon and he had yet to see a single villager.
Then, from the distance, the faint glow of torchlight began to light the horizon, growing brighter and brighter as a parade of commoners larger than anything Polonius had seen that day approached. The word had gotten out. The villagers told the lumberjacks. The lumberjacks told the fishermen. The fisherman told the traders. The traders told the shop keeps in the next city. And the Shop keeps told everyone they came across.
People from far away piled into carriages to travel to Strongwood to see the show. The commoners put on their best clothes and brought their whole families. Polonius smiled with glee while the prince watched in disbelief.
"Congratulations," Prince Balor said with a slight annoyance to his voice. "It would seem your plan has worked. You got them here. Now be sure you keep them."
"I intend to," Polonius smirked. Prince Balor briskly walked to the back, leaving Polonius alone to gather his thoughts. He quickly got to work muttering to his staff to make the gem atop glow red. He waved it over wooden mannequin he'd placed at a makeshift admissions stand. The mannequin sprang to life looking around frantically.
"Take their gold when they hand it to you and let them through," Polonius ordered. The mannequin nodded and turned eagerly to the approaching crowd. Polonius then ran to the back, activating mannequins as he went giving them orders like "show them to their seats," "don't let them backstage," and "make sure nobody hops the barricade." By the time the last mannequin had been activated, people had already begun to pile into the arena.
They were a greeted by a sight that none of them had ever seen. On one end was a stage with a giant mirror hanging above. Attached to it was a ramp leading down to an elevated square ring with a black apron covering its underside and three white ropes on every side attached to metal turnbuckles in each corner. The ring was separated from the front row of seats by a barricade that left a small amount of room on all sides of the ring.
The crowd murmured in excitement as they filed into their seats as they pondered over just what it was they were about to see. Polonius smiled as he peered at them through the curtain that separated the stage entrance from the view of the audience. He turned around the see the competitors waiting hungrily. They were a mix of adventurers and common thugs from across the land, looking for a bit of extra money. "This is it," Polonius began "Everything we've done. All the building and training. It's lead to this moment. Now's it up to you. Show them something they've never seen before." The competitors nodded and murmured in agreement. Polonius turned back to the curtain and took a deep breath. With that, he threw open the curtains and stepped out to face the crowd.