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X-treme Wrestling Federation »   » Archives » "WAR GAMES 2015" RP Board
Lancelot Smith - Getting Medieval.
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Lancelot Smith
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#1
09-06-2015, 11:42 AM

Two Weeks Ago.

The steady beeps of a heart rate monitor drum through the empty walls of the St. Thomas hospital in Nashville Tennessee. The camera pans up to reveal a man with long shaggy brown hair laying unconscious. He is surrounded by pillows and blankets, but the room is otherwise empty. On the side of the bed we can see the name on his chart, it reads John Doe.

Terry Nevada had been down on his luck for years. He was a manager, a promotor, but for the last 3 years he had nothing worth promoting or managing. His wrestling company had folded, and all his clients had left him. To make matters worse Terry was now in the hospital with a broken elbow.

Things had gone bad to worse last night at the bar, and he said the wrong thing to a local college kid. The kid shoved him the wrong way, and he fell into a table, breaking his elbow in the process. Terry didn’t even get a name from the kid either, so he couldn’t press charges. The bar had thrown Terry in a cab, and told it to take him to the hospital, and to make sure he didn’t come back.

So Terry walked down the hallways of St. Thomas, his arm in a sling, looking to score. Maybe some pills, maybe something he could sell. Times were tough, and you had to do what you had to do. Terry thought he had been sneaky. He thought he had managed to get the bottle into the waistband of his pants without anyone noticing. But as he turned to walk out, he heard a nurse start to yell.

Nurse Sir!

Terry didn’t have time to react, he started to run, as quickly as he could with his broken elbow. It was amazing how something as simple as a broken elbow, which you would think would have no effect on your ability to run, really impacted it. Terry had a good lead, he was still somewhat spry, even though he had put on weight in his old age. Terry bolted around the corner, and into the first room he saw, and slammed the door. He waited a minute, and watched as the Nurse, and other security guards ran past the room, and away from him.

Then he saw that he wasn’t alone.

Terry made eye contact with the man, who was sitting up erect in the bed. He was shirtless, and muscular. He had the perfect look for a wrestler.

John Doe: Greetings

Terry was taken aback. The man spoke like something out of a movie, his enunciation was perfect, his tone clear, and direct. When he spoke, the words were words that made you listen. His tone was firm, and authoritative enough that Terry almost felt like he was being talked down to.

Terry Uhh Hi.

John Doe: Sir I hate to trouble thee, but I seem to be confounded, could you provide some enlightenment.

Terry Just let me hide out here for a minute.

John Doe: Hide out? Are thou pursued!?

Terry What? Uhh Yeah.

John Doe: What underhanded treachery is afoot!? I will not lay by while there are battles to be waged!

Terry What the hell are you on about?

The John Doe starts to step out of bed, he has on red skintight tights, but is still shirtless. His hair falls to his shoulders, as he steps past Terry, barefoot, and into the hall.

Terry No no no.

John Doe: Face thee knave! Face thy reckoning!

Terry slams the door shut, pulling the stranger back inside.

Terry What are you doing? No, we need to get out of here, now.

John Doe: Fear not, I shall defend you. For I am the brave and mighty Sir Lancelot.

Terry Sir Lancelot!?

Lancelot: Do you brandish a sword?

Terry Uhhh…No.

Lancelot: Fear not, I am an experienced grappler.

Terry Grappler? Like a wrestler?

Lancelot doesn’t reply, and instead charges back into the hallway. Security guards are now around the door, but Lancelot engages them immediately. With this, Terry, takes the chance to escape. Lancelot, follows him, attacking security guards as they try to attack him. Finally Terry makes it outside, with Lancelot not far behind. As soon as Lancelot steps outside, he is frozen in astonishment.

Lancelot: What witchcraft is this?

Terry No time, c’mon!

Lancelot follows Terry into a cab, and Terry instructs the driver on where to go.

Lancelot: What manner of sorcery is this!?

Terry Just buckle up, c’mon.

Terry reaches across and buckles Lancelot up.

Lancelot leans towards the window, looking out in astonishment as buildings and skyscrapers, pass by, sights he seems to be viewing for the first time. Terry gets out of the cab, back at his apartment, and pays the driver, although no tip. Terry and Lancelot head inside.

Terry This is really bad. We need to lay low, they might have people looking for us. Ok, wait…who are you exactly?

Lancelot: My name is Sir Lancelot, I am one of Arthur Pendragon’s knights of the round table. Son of king Ban of Benwick, father of Galahad. The greatest champion in all of Camelot.

Terry Lancelot? That’s just stories man. Are you some kind crazy person?

Lancelot: Nay. But I am confused. How did I come to be here?

Terry You don’t remember?

Lancelot: Nay.

This was perfect, Terry thought to himself. This guy was clearly a nut job, he could just say that he had nothing to do with him, and be done with it all. He wasn’t going to get into any trouble, provided those pills “disappeared”.

But then again…This guy had…something…For starters he was in better shape than any wrestler he had ever managed. Somewhere in between escaping the hospital and hailing the cab, Lancelot had found a shirt, and was no longer shirtless, but when he HAD been, that was a set of abs people would pay money to see. And those fighting skills…The way he took down those guards was incredible!

Terry Ok Uhh Lance…Where’d you learn to fight like that?

Lancelot: I have been a grappler all my life. I am an even better swordsman.

Terry Lancelot, what year do you think it is?

Lancelot: Why, the year of our lord, Nine Hundred Thirty Two, of course.

Terry Lance, it’s two thousand, fifteen.

Lancelot was schocked. He sat down on the bed.

Terry And people don’t really sword fight anymore. It’s frowned upon. Listen Lance, I err Manage Grapplers. I make sure they get into matches, make sure they’re not being taken advantage of, and speak on their behalf sometimes. Would you be interested in working with me?

Lancelot: Everyone I know…My wife…Galahad…everyone…gone?

Terry Look Lance, I know this is confusing, but if you really ARE who you say you are, maybe theres a way back. Grapplers these days travel all across the country, it would be a great chance for you to see how different things are, and maybe someone will be able to help you on the way.

Lancelot: If there is even a chance of getting back to my son, my wife…I must take it. I will join forces with you, and we shall travel this world! Ready your stead!

Terry About that…

* * *

Terry and Lancelot stood backstage. It was two weeks later, and they had passed so quickly it made his head whirl. Lancelot and Terry had been signed to work with a promotion called XWF, and they were ready to make their debut as part of a War Games match along with team mates. Lancelot had taken the name Lancelot Smith, a name chosen, partly because if Lancelot DID have a last name, he had forgotten it. Lancelot found that he could barely remember his time in Camelot. So much of it was a blur. He thought he remembered his wife, Gwenevere's face, and that of his son, but it was fleeting. He remembered horse hooves and jousting, and battles, great battles, with cheering spectators. But people, and places…they were fuzzy. It distressed him greatly.

Lancelot turned to speak to the camera.

Lancelot: My name is Lancelot Smith.

He spoke with that same direct tone that had made Terry stand up and listen, and now Terry smiled, as he directed it upon thousands of people watching.

Lancelot: I am a stranger, in a strange land. But already I feel at home, because what I have come for is battle. What I know how to do, better than any man who ever lived, is battle and battle well. My team mates are noble. They are warriors true, and together we shall wage war upon our enemies.

Terry And that’s just what this is. War. Lancelot Smith is the greatest athlete to step foot in this ring. His passion is battle. His purpose is nobility. And together, this team is going to conquer.

C’mon Lance…It’s time to get Medieval.
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