Battle of Montevont

The Kelmid Warlord Neru-thos grinned as he stood within the Montevont town square, none of the locals brave enough to challenge him. He held his board by his side, about to venture out, but suddenly…

He hears an ollie landing behind him, looking over his shoulder to see the immortal elf king Kal’sin’dor, looking at the Warlord with a smug expression, adjusting his gold-trimmed elven snapback.

The Warlord forced himself to smile. “You’re no better than the skaters in this town, fool.” But in reality he readied himself. He knew this was going to be a challenge.

The King waved a hand dismissively, performing a quick laser flip that caused the local Lenorisians to look at him in awe. “Your people haven’t won a war since the days we fought with steel blades and shields.”

The Warlord guffawed in response, ollieing onto a nearby rail and grinding off flawlessly. “How typical of elves to cling to the past, you never made for good skaters anyway.”

The two skaters raced towards each other, ready to execute their best tricks. But suddenly a blinding light flashes in their eyes, both fall to the ground.

“Argh, my arm!” cried the Elf King, his arm scraped and trickling blood.

“Oof!” grunted the Warlord, holding his head as it is bruised.

The two rival skaters look ahead to see… no, it can’t be.

“The Shining Board of Lenrois!” exclaimed the Warlord.

The King shook his head in disbelief “No… it is one of the last traces of magic in Oseros, nevermind Thendarr… how can it be?”

The board is lowered, the light enchantment fading… to reveal none other than Sovereign Anuwine, trusted hand of the Emperor.

“This is Lenroisan land, aliens, you had better leave!” said the Sovereign cackling, confident he could well take on these two expert skaters.

Mad tricks followed in the battle to come, air, grab, slide, grind, ollie, flip; you name it, these experts executed it.

The crowds looked on in awe, about an hour had passed now, the skaters breathing heavily and glaring at each other.

The Sovereign forced a grin, twirling his moustache. “Heh, you’ve been schooled, now leave Lenrois!” he exclaimed, attempting to proclaim himself as the victor.

The Warlord and King nodded to each other, they knew what they had to do.

“Fine.” said the warlord, stepping off of his board and holding it by his side.

“You’re lame.” snarled the king, stepping off of his board as well… but suddenly he kicked it forward, infusing it with elven magic, the board zoomed forward at near light speeds.

Taking the queue, the Warlord leaped onto the elven board, which was now speeding towards the Sovereign. He gripped his orcish war board with two hands, ready to swing!

“What is the meaning of this?!?!?!” screamed the Sovereign, but he was quickly silenced as the Warlord slammed him in the face.

The crowds of Montevont cheered and gasped in awe, proclaiming the orc and elf the victors.

The Warlord grinned, tossing the elven board back to the King before skating off on his own. “We’ll finish this another day, Kal’sin’dor.”

The King adjusted his snapback, chuckling. “I would have it no other way.”