Meriel

How this mess started:

To the past King of Meriel, I have just one question:
Why did you ever think a tournament would be the best way to give up your throne?!
Yes, I understand you had no heir. Yes, I understand that you were running short on time...
But a tournament? A tournament for all the lunatics in the universe?!
I sometimes wonder why my grandmother had so much faith in you.

...I guess he had never let you down until this point.

Before the tournament, Meriel was... beautiful. Magic and technology effortlessly lived together in a wonderful society. The capitol city was the prized jewel of the kingdom, floating above the ground and looking out over the vast land it had claimed for itself. Architecture unparalleled, scientific advances unimaginable... all with an artsy overcoat and the sound of sweet song filling the air from an open window. To keep it's culture and way of life safe and secure, a barrier existed around the floating city. Only specially marked airships could enter and leave, and prying eyes were kept away from what beauty lay beyond.
It was... perfect. Or, so I've been told. Meriel was perfect for those that lived on the surface of the hemisphere city, at least. The royal family and the rich gathered by pristine fountains and flower gardens, ate fine meals from glamorous restaurants, and relaxed to the pace of their own living.
Those in the lower part of the capitol were not so fortunate. Lit only by the light of their own power, those below the sun-shining surface city weren't the most pretty to look upon. Rough around the edges and built for work, they kept the people above them comfortable and happy at the cost of their own comfort and happiness. It wasn't the greatest system in the world, but it was a lot better than what we have now.

Aforementioned, the King was dying. Slowly growing sicker by the day and without an heir to the throne or the kingdom, he took a risk as a last resort. Letting the barriers around the city down, he called for a tournament to be held in order to determine who would rule in his place. Opening it up to whoever could receive the signal, he hoped for the best.
Unfortunately, when power and prestige are on the line, it's not the best kind of people that come crawling out of the woodwork of time and space. Each with their own motives and ideals, there were overall 10 individuals stepped forward to claim the throne. Each would have to fight for the right to rule, and against each other. A glorified fighting sport that would result in one, and only one winner.

Out of the 10 that entered, a clash of ideals and intentions was present from the first round. Tension in the royal courts was incredibly high. Rich and royal folks alike were frightened at some of the new candidates.

"Did you see how he could turn his hand into a drill?!"
"How can a monster that came from the void be fit to rule a kingdom?!"
"I believe that the taller gentleman might have some ability to be a king. What about you?"
"I personally think that the young lady who has power over water would be a fitting queen myself."

It was here that my grandmother worked. She was the head of the Royal Guard at the time. A dark skinned elf, loyal to the king and the royal family. She wasn't too pleased with the array of contestants that the king had managed to gather, and she certainly didn't like the idea to begin with. Alas, the king had appointed her to be a judge over them, and so she constantly made careful notes of who won, who lost, and who was lost. She relayed rules, she participated in relaying information, and she was ever present. One could say that she was even favored by the contestants. If something was going on, she was involved.
She too, hoped only for the best. This was her home, and she wasn't about to let any old person take what she held dear.

Or at least, she did her best.