The Convoy Rises

[Jakub DeRelic]

A light begins to brighten up a dark room, the camera zoomed in on one man's face. He has strawberry blonde hair, half shaven and with the other half left long over the side. A slightly darker beard lines his jaw, and the man slowly removes his sunglasses to reveal glistening, golden eyes.

 

Jakub De'Relic: I know what you're thinking. This is the part where we tell you we've arrived. You've heard every last cliché, I'm sure of it. We're here to take over! OCW has never seen anyone like me! I've wrestled all over the world, in Europe, Japan, Nicaragua! I was king of the indy's, and now OCW is my new kingdom!

De'Relic runs a hand through his hair

 

Jakub De'Relic: Now...maybe every single one of these things applies to us...or maybe none of them do. The point is...that's not important. What is important is that we are right here, right now. Oh God, you don't even know who we are, do you?

 

The camera zooms out, showing us that De'Relic is dressed in a white leather jacket with black trimmings and black jeans, his sunglasses now hanging from one of the jackets pockets. Standing next to him are three men, all dressed in white ring gear. De'Relic walks to the first one, a man with uneven, dark brown hair.

 

Jakub De'Relic: Nate Dunn. A recovering alcoholic, Nate may have the shortest temper I've ever seen. The alcohol has left some permanent damage on the man and to make matters worse, the man is a trained martial artist...

 

De'Relic walks over to the next man, clearly the biggest of the four. Slicked back mahagony hair lines his head, a match mustache and beard on his face

 

Jakub De'Relic: Matt Mercer, the man stands at six and a half feet tall. The brute strength of a rampaging ox, but the keen eyes and intelligence to match.

 

De'Relic walks to the third man, clean shaven and with a strong jaw line, alongside short black hair, styled with gel.

 

Jakub De'Relic: Jason Williams, the international flare of our organization, representing jolly old England... A man who talks the talk and will mock you seconds before kneeing your teeth so far down your throat that then next time you see them, they'll be mixed in with your last meal.

 

De'Relic the walks in front of the three men, his arms spread.

 

Jakub De'Relic: And me? My name is Jakub De'Relic. The pretty face of our little coalition, I sit atop our Iron Throne and above all else...I get it done. What that means....well, I'll let you wait and see.

 

And I guess this begs the next question....are these four a strong brotherhood, who've fought side by side for years and years...or are they just a band of misfit toys, seeing that there may be strength in numbers? The answer...well, that would be telling, wouldn't it? All you need to know is that as of this moment....the Rogue Convoy...has risen.

 

De'Relic smirks and begins to chuckle, as the camera darkens.

[Dennis Black]

I'm jealous. My intent back in January was to come in with a stable. But they all flaked. I hope you guys work out. Welcome to Turmoil. But avoid Loki...he doesn't put new guys over.

[Loki McGregor]

Aye. so'tiz true so 'tis, yer clap oi believe dat rookies must be shaped by de fire av true so 'tis competishun, not 'an' 'oldin' loike dennis is fond. nade a shoulder ter cry on, ask dennis. nade a guy ter 'elp yer, ask b17. nade someone ter push yer ter de next level, ask loki.

[Cactus Gauge]