On the southeast side of Sacramento, around Signal St and Elder Creek Rd is one of the warehouse districts of Sacramento, and Karl Sandberg has a slight hold of the area. Deciding it would be fun to watch some fights, as well as a way to 'give back' to the community he was 'taking care of', Sandberg leased one of these warehouses for a very special evening.
The Prize? The respect of all. This isn't MMA. You fight to win.
When one enters the warehouse of the fight they'll see several makeshift square cages. They have a clear entrance with a door that can easily be closed. In the middle of all the cages is a VIP section where Sandberg is sitting. None are allowed in without an invitation and no one usually gains an invitation. There's plenty of room around the cages for spectators to get an eye full of the festivities as well as make their own private bets.
Sitting by the door is an older man with glasses and a clipboard. His name is Charles and he's the man to talk to for any interested in fighting. There's also a bar set up for any who wish to drink. Roaming around the cages and among spectators are several hired guns. They look just as expected, men in suits with heads constantly on a swivel. They look like maybe they'd won prior tournaments and now work for Sandberg as protection, possibly as a reward. They are merely here to make sure things don't get too out of hand.
Standing in the middle with Sandberg is the announcer, a long time enforcer of Sandberg named Mickey 'Left Hand' Byrne. He got his nickname when he gambled one too many times and got his hand shoved in a meat grinder.
Mickey 'Left Hand' Byrne
"Ladies and Gents. Welcome to the fight night you've all been waiting for," he said in a scruff voice. "If you're here to fight, watch your back out there, cause no one else will," he said with a gruff laugh. "If you're here to watch then enjoy yourself and may your desired fighter win. We'll give the fighters some time to sign up and rest before we put them through their paces, but be ready. I don't wait for no man except Mr. Sandberg, so when I call your names, get your arse in here and fight like you fuckin' mean it," he said, a slight British accent leaking out as he got excited. "Oh, almost forgot. If you get your ass kicked you'll probably be wakin' up over there," he said pointing to a makeshift nurses station. It wasn't state of the art but it would do for a place to regain consciousness.
Rules are laid out in the OOC thread here. Please announce how you found out about the tournament when you join the thread. If you plan to fight then you must narrate that you signed up. We'll leave sign up open for a week or so. Have fun everyone!