Post by Ulf Hednir on Aug 25, 2021 15:51:00 GMT
There is a small plateau that is covered in a blanket of fresh snow, barely clinging to the ground because of the howling wind blowing it to and fro. The sound of snow crunching beneath the feet of an individual could be heard as one man walked forward… The man only wore black whaleback pants and boots, and finally what had become his most prized possession since acquiring it: the IWF Men’s World Championship. Ulf Hednir. He walked up to the edge of the cliff to overlook the entire mountain range… There were many, many that almost matched its elevation. Many that appeared just as difficult with a rigid terrain, and faltering path, but this was the one that Ulf Hednir stood at the top of.
Ulf had lost count of the number of signs that he had seen during his ascent. The signs that would warn any who trekked its path to turn away, or continue at their own risk. The signs that would insist that people turn around and stick to the trail that was able to be maintained. Despite all of the warnings, there were still plenty of people that were persistent enough to continue… The obstacles that blocked every direction, the trail that many had to improvise, the climb that threatened the livelihood of any who dared attempt to climb. There were still people that trailed behind Ulf, and he could not be certain where they were; how long it would be until they would reach the distance and see the same view. Ulf stood as the twentieth man to see this view.
It had taken him a long time to ascend to the top of the mountain, and now it was time for him to do what he had earned: take in its beauty. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, one deep breath to inhale the fresh air… It was the freshest breath of air that anyone could dream of having. The air was pure and clean. There was no doubt: Ulf would not give up this view easily. The howling wind would lash against Ulf’s skin with each gust, but he stood just as tall and unwavering. When he opened his eyes, although they were narrowed, he gazed at everything laid out before him. Holding this stance, Ulf’s voice trailed back as he began to speak, “It’s beautiful.” Were the mere words that escaped as he gave a nod of his head.
“Hva makes it more beautiful is de… sheer… amount of work det jeg had to do to see disse view. To see disse for min selv. From disse perspective!” Ulf’s voice rose with confidence, and determination. There was no questioning his determination to ensure that he would walk out of Legacy with the championship around his waist.
“When jeg came back to de Imperial Wrestling Federation, there were a number of people det--” Ulf turned to face the camera, and the sunlight caught the golden plate of the belt that was wrapped around his waist just right; it glimmered, and appeared as if it were… home… being around his waist. “--did not think det jeg would accomplish anything. They thought det jeg was going to swoop in--” Ulf swings his arm one way, and pivots on his feet to take a couple steps in that same direction, “Get disappointed when things are not going my vei, and swoop--” he stops walking, and swoops his arm in the other direction bringing his eye contact back to the camera, “--right back ute.”
There is a brief pause as Ulf ponders that, and recalls himself stepping out of the company on two previous occasions. Of course, there was the truth that he knew and whether people accepted it or not, but he knew there was also the perception for how it may have been viewed. Ulf scoffed at the thought of how the people in the back may have perceived it. The Dean Harper’s, the Gilmore’s, the Caleb’s. But where were they now while he held the top prize?
“Two times--” Ulf held up two fingers, “--jeg have left disse company… disse industry… but two times, jeg came back. Two times, jeg sought to right de wrongs det jeg left behind! And… ja… these are things that jeg cannot turn back. These are things det jeg cannot change. Whether you want to hate me for de times det jeg did walk away for myself, or know det de truth was jeg just needed some time to…” He paused for a moment, while trying to think of the correct way to phrase the word, “Center myself. To find myself.”
He took a moment to point toward the camera, as if he had an “aha” moment, “Much like my own friend, JC Keeton! Whether you want to believe det or not… it is the truth. But jeg really have nothing det jeg need to say to anyone in de back-- de fans-- de Ulfpack-- they knew… They knew det jeg would be back to do hva jeg set ute to do! They knew det jeg would come back to accomplish hva jeg said jeg would… And TWO TIMES… it was a much longer journey than jeg intended, but TWO TIMES of needing to center myself and come back: jeg did it. TWO TIMES of having to center myself, and jeg conquer de top of de mountain and in such a fashion that nobody else thought possible! Jeg came back… and jeg… won… my first championship in my career. Jeg took de IWF World Television Championship,” Ulf said, and was unable to contain the chuckle from behind his lips, “Og jeg raised det bar high! Jeg gave the opportunity to anybody who wished to challenge for de championship, og jeg sent a few of them packing! Sadly! It is never my goal to crush de spirit of any competitor to de point det they quit… But--” Ulf snapped his fingers together, “--perhaps this is their own journey! Perhaps they need to do like me and re-center themselves, and vi vil see them back! And… should they come back… jeg have another championship det jeg am willing to defend against ANY and ALL challengers! But to continue on, jeg had de likes of… Nick Danger… a man who is set on entering de main event, a man with heart-- a man with passion-- but a man who caved in… to… fear.” Ulf finished by balling his hand into a fist.
“You owe me a match, Nick. So if you want to throw your name in de hat,” Ulf shrugged, “By all means.” Ulf said by cocking his head to the side, and shrugging.
“Jeg raised de bar of de IWF World Television Championship, and JC Keeton is keeping it going! Believe me-- believe me when jeg say det jeg have nothing but love… nothing but respect… for everything det these people have done. But when jeg look at JC Keeton-- when jeg look at myself-- jeg see de future. Jeg see two people det are not going to be afraid to step forward and find a CHALLENGE! Jeg see two people det are not going to cower away from de greatest threats. Jeg see two people det-- can-- be knocked down, but two people det are going to get back up and go right into de face of whoever did it and DARE them to do it again!” Ulf said with a commanding tone. He took a moment to draw in a deep breath, letting his eyes shift and linger on the view for several seconds. Without turning his attention back to the camera, he resumed his speech, “And du did it…” Ulf’s voice said with a hint of disappointment.
“There are few people who can stand de test of time. There are few people det can go from generation; to generation; to generation, and still be able to be recognized as one of de greatest… There are fewer people who know when it’s time to hang it up.”
His gaze did not falter for several more seconds until he clicked his tongue, and looked down; he shook his head a few times and grinned before letting the next word escape.
“It… is not your time,” Ulf said before turning his attention back to the camera, “It was not your time to retire from the ring years ago, it is not your time to retire now! Jeg have seen your old matches, Roberto. Jeg have seen de battles that du have waged from New Championship Wrestling… Jeg have seen de battles that du waged with de legends of yesteryear. People like Spike Kane; people like Steve Awesome; people like Adam Knite; people like Rob Diamond. To de people of today!” Ulf couldn’t stifle a chuckle as the memory of Heir to the Throne was fresh on the mind of everyone, and the challenges that Roberto Verona had gone through to win Heir to the Throne, “Du marched right through some of de most impressive people that are going to absolutely become de future of disse industry. People like JC Keeton; people like Pax Stormcrow; people like Wraith… There are some people det try to diminish hva it is that du are capable of doing, but--” Ulf raised a hand and wagged his finger, while simultaneously shaking his head, “--not me. Jeg know exactly hva du are capable of. Jeg know exactly hva du can do inside of de ring! Before du were a-- a--” Ulf snapped his fingers a few times together, and sniffled, whilst contemplating the correct term to use, “--a general manager. Administrator. Staff. Hva ever people want to call du now, du were first and foremost: a wrestler; a competitor; a warrior; a fighter--” Without any break, Ulf points at the camera, “--and one of de best!”
Following the statement, Ulf brought his arm back down and snickered as he thought about the past that Roberto Verona had. All of the victories, all of the battles; he had years of experience over Ulf, which there was absolutely no denying… But there was one more truth that Ulf knew, which he couldn’t help but smirk over that particular thought.
“But as good as du are; as good as de people are that du have fought over your entire career… NONE of them are me. NONE of them are able to do de things that jeg have been able to do! Du defeated my best friend to advance to disse match; to win de Heir to de Throne!” Ulf appeared impressed by that statement, but still shrugged, “So did jeg. Jeg defeated JC Keeton in our first match to successfully retain de IWF World Television Championship, and start hva would become a legendary run as de TV Champion. Ja, he has de most recent win over me… he was de one to take de belt away from me but that detour… did not stop me.”
Ulf pauses for a moment and holds up an index finger to the camera.
“One… loss. Since jeg returned to de IWF; ONE loss! Do… you… understand who… Do you understand hva du are getting into de ring with? From December to TODAY, jeg have had ONE LOSS. Jeg have been unstoppable since returning to IWF! Jeg--” Ulf smiled again, “--was de workhorse. Everybody that du wanted me to face, jeg would face! Everybody that wanted a shot at my championship, they got it! And de entire time: jeg was unstoppable. There are people in your own company det were content with sitting in de back og letting de paycheck keep getting mailed in even if it meant they didn’t have to do thing! But jeg--” Ulf shook his head, “--did not do that. Jeg WANTED to get into de ringe! Jeg WANTED to be in de ring EACH and EVERY week! How many people do you have under contract that can say that? Jeg went to du on several occasions… wanting… to be in de ring; wanting another match; wanting to defend my belt. Du see that jeg… did not… hide. Jeg… did not… shy away. So hva-- who-- are du getting into de ring with?”
There is another momentary pause as Ulf paces back and forth on the plateau with small steps. He appears to be unphased by the cold weather, as each step crunches the layer of snow beneath him.
“Nei one has done hva jeg have done in my short time since returning to de IWF. And-- jeg think du know that. Jeg think du know exactly who you’re getting into de ring with. Jeg think du know that there is no easy vei. Jeg think du know that everybody du fought in Heir to de Throne… could not prepare du for fighting me. Now, don’t get me wrong, everybody in de tournament are quite… quite impressive. But jeg am on another level. Because jeg… do not… stop. When jeg finish one opponent, jeg look for de next. And du are next.”
Ulf turned his head to look back at the view that was in front of him from the top of the mountain. He walked to the edge of the cliff and with his back turned, continued his speech.
“And jeg am not ready to give up this view. Disse… is something that jeg have fought to have from de moment that jeg signed my name to a contract. From my time as the young rookie that had just so much promise! From my days as a member of de Council battling against de Pack… From my days of leading de Heathen Army. Disse… was de view that jeg was fighting to have. Disse… was de view that jeg wanted to see. Disse… is de view that jeg am not going to give up.
Of all of the former people that have had this view, yourself included, Roberto; jeg came to take in disse view with one thing in mind… to do de same thing that jeg did with my previous belt. To break… a record. There are numerous records to break. Two-hundred-seventy-three days. Jeg will shatter it. Twelve defenses. Jeg will shatter it. Three-hundred-thirty-four days. Jeg will shatter it… with ONE… reign.
Du are setting yourself out to prove that du do not belong behind a desk, and jeg agree… You do not belong behind a desk. And du are going to come to Legacy and bring one of de greatest fights that du can… that du have ever brought. But it is not going to be enough. You will prove to de world that du do not belong behind de desk, but jeg… am not holding disse championship to merely hold it. Jeg am holding it to shatter records. And that is EXACTLY hva jeg am going to do!”
Ulf reached behind to unstrap the belt, and held it up so that his gaze could fall upon it. The object held in his eyes that eluded him… It represented everything to him. It represented that he had finally made it; that he had finally accomplished his goal of becoming the top of the food chain. The door that it opened; he knew that he was now the man with the biggest target on his back, but with a smile, Ulf welcomed the challenge. Ulf would always welcome the next challenge. Ulf would always look for the next challenge.
“De list grows of people that… were not up for de challenge. People that wanted de championship just to be able to say that they… were… a champion. But it is exactly like jeg said when jeg took de TV Championship: they were never a champion. They were merely a title holder. People like-- James Gilmore. Disse is a man that boasts all de time about how he is a two-time World Champion! But in two reigns… hva have du done?” Ulf draped the belt over his shoulder, and turned to the camera using his other hand to give a questioning gesture. “Two reigns… Zero defenses. That is just-- disgraceful. That is just-- pitiful. And--” Ulf chuckles, “--jeg know that there are people ute that think jeg need to worry about one name in particular. De Joker in de Pack. Caleb Lockwood. But it was de same story for du… Du always had so much promise, so much will, so much determination! But de moment that du get to get to de top of de mountain… du shake. Du lose it. Du choke. If du want to take disse belt away from me… Jeg challenge du. Jeg challenge du to take de greatest opportunity because jeg know that disse battle with Roberto Verona is not going to be easy! Jeg am going to be weakened by the end of it-- jeg may even be on de verge of exhaustion…” Ulf glanced at his championship for a brief moment, then leaned forward so his gaze would pierce the camera.
“Take it. Take de opportunity. Battle me when jeg am at my weakest! But de night is only going to end one vei…” Ulf stood up straight, and tall, then spoke with the confidence in his voice as if he were one-hundred percent certain that his words would ring true. As if he had seen the future and knew that his words would ring true. “Disse belt… staying… with me. Roberto, jeg know that du are one of de greatest threats against me. Probably even de greatest. Jeg seem to have a knack for these type of things, ja?” Ulf said with a snicker.
“Jeg mean… when jeg was TV Champion, jeg wanted a battle royal to determine de order of who jeg would defend my belt against, and jeg started with de hardest. That is de winner that was JC Keeton. It only makes sense for me to follow suit for de IWF Men’s World Championship. Start with the toughest, and everything forward becomes easy. Jeg will die before jeg lose disse championship because… jeg will not just be a title holder. Jeg have said it before, and jeg have no problem repeating it: jeg WILL NOT be just a title holder. Jeg will be a champion. Prepare for war, Roberto. Because that is hva we are having. SKÅL!”
Ulf adjusted the championship one more time over his shoulder, and turned back to enjoy the view… The sun was creeping upward, and reflecting off of the snowy surface that Ulf stood upon. To a brighter day. End.