You would not believe that there are no fanmakes of this particular cartoon pilot. This makes me the first to do this.
Kratos is a property of Sony
Korgoth of Barbaria is a property of Aaron Springer
The other characters that appear in this pilot are properties of their rightful owners
"What do you mean there's a cover charge?!" Those were the words shouted by an impatient light skinned, blonde woman wearing dark purple tunic with armor and with a sword attached to her belt. Behind her were her six friends, all of them from different races, all of them armed to the teeth, and all of them upset. What did you expect? It was raining that night, so they needed a place to stay at this inn. At least that's what the dwarf doorman thought.
"It's policy," he said in a gruff voice. "Innkeeper Anju wants to raise money for a new sign."
"A new sign?" complained a young girl clad in green. "What's wrong with the old one?"
Zelda, the leader of this group and the one who was the first to shout at the doorman, slapped her friend. "Quiet, Saria. I'll handle this." She looked to the doorman and said, "A new sign? What's wrong with the old one?!"
"I just said that," muttered Saria, earning a slap in the face from Zelda.
"She said they misspelled something on it," replied the doorman to Zelda.
The sign of the tavern was read "The Dodongo's Snout." The two girls were right. What could be the problem?
"What did they misspell?" asked Zelda to the doorman.
"Well, the name of the place is the Stockpot Inn," he replied.
Zelda looked upset. "Damn it! This isn't the place!" Her friends bickered amongst each other as she grabbed Saria. "You said this is the bar our client goes to!"
"I thought so too!" She pulled a map from her pocket. "Oh. Now I see. Look. You were right."
Zelda pushed her into the mud and focused her attention to the doorman. "You tell us the location of the Hog's Head tavern and be quick," she said as she squashed the poor dwarf's chest with her foot. "Or the last thing you'll see is my iron tipped boot pressing into your retina!"
"Three blocks down," he squeaked. "On the left!" The female warrior removed her foot from his lungs.
"Good to hear." she muttered.
The Hog's Head tavern was definitely a known place that's not for the weak-minded or stomached. Big tough looking men, orcs, harpies and other fowl creatures were at their tables or the bars drinking their alcoholic beverage, eating food like slobs, or doing their "M-rated business" under the tables. Unfortunately, it was this place that the seven warriors were looking for. Upon entering the place, all of the patrons and staff looked at them suspiciously.
"Good evening," said Zelda with a wave of her hand. Everyone went back to their business. "Alright," she whispered. "Come on."
The girls carefully walked towards the nearest table, looking around for something...or someone. A few perverted men wolf-whistled at the female members, only to get swatted by them.
"And sit," Zelda ordered, taking her place at the table. No one sat down. "Sit down!" she ordered. That got everyone's attention and got everyone to sit down. 'Now that that's cleared up,' Zelda thought. 'Where can he be?' She and her friends looked around, hoping to find the man they were paid to find.
"I told you he wouldn't be here," said a dark skinned, red haired woman named Nabooru.
"I blame that doorman," complained Saria. "He-"
"If I have to tell you two one more time," began Zelda, but she stopped when a blue-armored clad fish woman grabbed her arm. "What is it Ruto?!"
"Shh!" she hissed. "Can't you hear it?" Her eyes were focused on one location: the men's bathroom.
Her friends wondered what they should be listening to and why she was focused on that one room. Until they heard the sound of water running coming from behind the bathroom door. By now, all the girls were eying the door, both in nervousness and curiosity. Soon came the sound of a toilet being flushed, followed by soap being dispensed.
The door opened...and out came a muscular, bald headed, goatee chinned man in his late thirties that stood about 5 feet tall and carried two glowing red, demonic-looking blades the size of machetes strapped across his back. He wore light brown sandals, brass greaves and a red loincloth with a golden belt. The most stunning features however were his ash white skin and the tattoo that ran from his right eye, across his back over his left breast and onto his left shoulder. This was the warriors' client. This was the man they were paid to find. This was the Ghost of Sparta. This was Kratos.
The great cities of risen and fallen. Civilization's grip on mankind has grown weak and arthritic. Dark forces seek to renew forgotten covenants. Heroes and heroines have fallen victim to corruption and sin. And primordial beasts reclaim the wilderness. Out of the frozen north of Greece, a man emerges. A man of a barbaric age, whose merciless savagery may be the only key to his survival. They call him Kratos!