*In the past of old Gotham, before the rise of Batman and the rogue Gallery*
*Edward Nygma is standing in the corner of the GCPD department, not paying attention to any of this officers or detectives walking by. But he suddenly feels something shift, he looks up from his files. He was reading seeing everyone stare in one direction* 
*He follows their gaze and his eyes land on a short man hobbling inside, despite his usual indifference to everyone, he finds himself immediately drawn to the strange little man, who despite his shorter stature and his hobbling walk, carries himself with an air of importance and confidence that tugs a small smile on Edward’s lips*
@the-best-riddler
(Ooc: hope this is a good starting point)
Oswald limped through the GCPD looking for a very special friend to him at the moment. He was supposed to be talking to Jim Gordon but it seems he had gotten stood up by the man.
The crime boss could feel everyone’s eyes on him, yeah of course they would stare he was an uprising crime boss, not quite a threat but was close enough. A pair of eyes stuck out to him, mostly because the man wouldn’t stop staring at him and…was he actually smiling at him? God what was happening in this dweebs head?
Oswald gently taps his cane on the ground impatiently.
As far as public duels went, this promised to be an amusing one.
The grounds chosen for it were a neutral place, the lawn of a nobleman's house who had volunteered to host. The arena was simple, just a space saved for sports games, polo and the like, only guarded off with mere velvet ropes. The nobility who gathered chuckled and gossiped with amusement.
A mere lord of Gluttony had challenged Prince Orobas to a duel! The audacity of it!
Prince Orobas was already there. He was dressed in his dueling costume, all velvet and satin, embroidered in the French style with silver and mother of pearl. His rapier was at his hip, but he was carrying himself as if it was just another party. Chuckling softly as he gently demurred the urging of his fellow guests to give no quarter.
"Lord Rakesh is still a friend to Queen Beelzabub, I can't be too harsh on him." Orobas said, his tone seemingly polite, but clearly quite smug as well. "I'll give him a chance to back down quietly and we'll call it even. I'd hate to ruin his career ambitions over a misunderstanding like this."
The guests sighed and simpered. Orobas was easily the most genteel, well bred of the Princes yet. King Paimon's own son, he was sophisticated, cultured, well educated, and skilled with a sword. There were keen interests in seeing him engaged to some lucky girl, but Orobas insisted he would like to court one properly in his own time. He was nothing but a gentleman, a pure gentleman.
When Rakesh came to court however, it seemed Orobas was singled out as the sole object of his disdain. There had been some ugly public confrontations, slights, insults and snubs. Rakesh could only do so much as a lord, but he irked Orobas in all the extremes he could.
Hence, when the insults were growing just shy of full-on retribution, Rakesh made the offer of the duel. He would publicly apologize for his misconduct and offer his aid to Orobas if he lost. But if Rakesh was the victor, Orobas would surrender his titles, properties and legions.
It seemed so outrageous at the time. But Orobas only laughed, told Rakesh he would come to lament his choice, and accepted.
Yet a third party was about to arrive on the scene, and the duel was about to become even more interesting by proximity.
The shimmering pink portal caught the guests off guard. Yet when the figure stepped through, their expressions turned to anxiousness and curiosity alike. With hands hovering behind her, Queen Vine had arrived. Dressed better than most, and with a look of general indifference to the crowd, she was hastily approached by her nephew.
"Aunt! I did not expect to see you here!" Orobas was pleased to see her. The eccentric Queen of Witchholm had left a riotous impression on him when she dropped in on his parties, dropping explosive gossip and treasure to guests. "May I get you some refreshment?"
".....concede the fight."
Orobas blinked. "Pardon?"
The Queen gave him a stern look. "Your father sent me to act as referee on this fight, and I've seen its conclusion. You should concede."
"Aunt-" Orobas looked surprised, shocked, but laughed. "-Aunt you surely jest. Rakesh is a lord, he hasn't even got any significant legions of his own!"
"None you know of."
And at the increased confusion, she sighed. "The outcome does not change nephew. I won't force your hand on it." She swept past him. "But believe me, conceding now will leave you at least intact, even if it's without a title."
And as she walked off, the guests turned to Orobas as he sighed and placated the crowd. "It's alright, it's natural she's afraid for my sake. Father sent her to make sure it's a good clean fight after all, it's nothing to concern yourselves with-"
Yet as Vine took her seat on a dais overlooking the fighting ring, and accepted a glass of white wine from a servant, her eyes lingered on Orobas and she shook her head.
