Max
With a loud sizzle a great gob of green foam wooshes over Quazarn's head, landing on the ground in front of him. The second gob hits in the crowd gathered nearby, covering one of the gawkers completely with fast-hardening foam.
The third gob hits Quazarn in the small of the back. He feels the foam spreading quickly over his limbs. It's not at all unpleasant, really, just a tingly warmth. It's almost enough to distract him from the foam shell forming around his arms and legs...
Dr Rotwang!
"What the gorp? Fool! You foolish goblin, you didn't --"
[Okay. Lesser Feat to scrape the stuff off my legs and arms?]
Max
[Go for it. Feel free to roll away when you propose using an ability -- I'll work with it unless your suggestion strikes me as totally whack.
[The shooting is coming from the guard towers, just to clarify.]
Rondo
[Restraint foam! That's what I figured: we actually trained with this stuff back when I was a prison guard (though we never used it).]
Rondo
Buck makes sure Darryl is getting some med attention, and indeed it does seem genuine. I'm rolling against Invisibility to work more or less unnoticed to help Quazarn get the hardening foam scraped off. "Looks like they intend on arresting us and holding us....you wanna haul it out of here if we can?" he exasperates to Quazarn.
Invisibility: 73%
Rolled: 15%
Buck is going to use Logic to deduct the best exit from this place in case we decide as a group to make a run for it (not that this is the best solution...perhaps "Negotiate" might be smarter! Want to see what the rest of the party is thinking).
Logic: 84%
Rolled: 11%
Max
As the goblin medics wait for stretchers Buck eyes the retreat chutes here and there throughout the arena. He notes they are closer than the main ramp leading off the field of battle. It also dawns on him that there's no way for him to help Quazarn inconspicuously*. The warlock is the center of attention, not least of all from the disenchanter, which has turned his way again, curling its trunk inquisitively.
"ALL FIGHTERS STEP AWAY FROM FIGHTER #3586. HE HAS BEEN EJECTED FROM THE BRAWL AND WILL SOON BE ESCORTED FROM THE ARENA. INTERFERENCE MAY RESULT IN FURTHER DISQUALIFICATIONS."
[*A warlock could use magic to turn truly Invisible, I'll note. Under the circumstances the cost, if successful, would be 1 percentile point from any MAG ability score.]
Dr Rotwang!
Reaching into his seldom-used physical prowess, Quazarn swears loudly, "Strapting Panderwives!" and scrapes away the offending foam! [Lesser Feat roll of 33%]
"I'll meet you at the van," he mutters to Pulsar, and covers his face with his hands -- wipes them downward --
-- and dashes away, totally oblivious to the fact that he has not, in fact, turned Invisible. [Invisibility roll of 68%]
Max
[Whither goest thou, O Conehead?]
Dr Rotwang!
[Lockers. You know, where the hobling was.]
wulfgar
Creature waves goodbye to Quazran.
"Bye...bye...pointy..head"
Rondo
Buck bursts out laughing, "Don't worry Creech," he says, patting Creature on the arm. "He goes away...but we'll see him again," he's making a 'let-your-fingers-do-the-walking' marching gesture to Creature.
"Okeedokee!"....Buck returns to the Creature and Daryl. He barks at one of the medics, "Help my buddy here," and points to Daryl, "..and if your idea of medical help is hauling off the injured with a crane, then you and I have problems, bub..." Buck is watching to make sure this thing is legit. "He dies, and there's going to be a hell of a lot of problems for everyone."
Max
The goblin stares at Buck like he was a puppy that just peed on the rug. "Maglubiyet!" curses the medic. "We ain't runnin' a research hospital here, pal. But we know a thing or two about patching up fighters. I cornered Lou Diamondhead Phillips! The South Mountain Screwdriver? That damn 'droid went berzerk twice in one week and I kept his gears turning. I think I can --"
A commotion from the center of the arena interrupts the apothecary. "Of all the...oh this is fan-yarking-tastic." Up from the tunnel hunches a hulking twelve foot tall brute, followed by five or six just like him. A prodigiously mustachioed dwarf herds them along with a whip.
"If you want to help your friend, help me guard the wounded. Chief Ball-tard sent in the Goon Squad."
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
The Brawl: Some Disenchanted Evening
Max
Elsewhere
[A scrying pool glows in a darkened cavern.]
PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER: The Brawl is off to a riotous start! The opening ruckus has settled down and the remaining fighters are licking their wounds and taking stock. Traditionally almost 50% of the fighters take themselves out in the first few skirmishes.
COLOR COMMENTATOR: About half, Bob....I allus useta make for the walls and recruit myself a crew a hardheads. Bust down a coupla big dogs to make a rep.
PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER: And as we've seen, most of this year's contenders have -- what's this? Well folks, this happens every so often. It looks like one of the fighters has decided he's leaving right now! [chuckling] He's got a hold of the medevac crane and he's hanging on for dear life.
COLOR COMMENTATOR: Now see, the pressure gets to some of these guys. Blew his cool. Figgered, "I'm gonna end up in the meat wagon sooner or later anyways!" [more laughter]
PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER: The apothecary men won't like that one bit though. That's what the retreat chutes are for, after all.
COLOR COMMENTATOR: Looks like a first-timer, name a Buck...Pusslar.
PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER: That's Buck Pulsar, Clubber.
COLOR COMMENTATOR: Pulsar, yeah.
PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER: Now what's this? Oh my, there's a galactic human of some sort...casting a spell! This Brawl is off to as strange a start as we've seen, folks.
COLOR COMMENTATOR: 'Gainst the rules, Bob. Automatic DQ.
PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER: That's right, Clubber, the fighter...Quazarn...will definitely be disqualified. Already they've unleashed the disenchanter, and it's galloping across the arena toward the warlock.
[Shoot, dudes, got all creative writing 101 with my update and ran out of time this morning. More tonight, for sure!]
Max
With a blast of colored string and confetti Troublesome Toy takes effect! The hoist chain and dipper begin to stretch and shrink downward toward the ground, turned into silly putty by the spell. A few feet from the ground the bottom of the dipper droops open and bodies begin to spill out of the basket.
A lanky cameloid beast with electric blue fur and a serpentine trunk trumpets across the pitch, sonic glamers rebounding from the walls with its every step.
"PENALTY! ARCANE DISQUALIFICATION! ALL FIGHTERS STEP AWAY FROM FIGHTER #3586," blares the P.A. overhead. Quazarn doesn't need to look down to recognize the number on his bib.
Rondo
[Okay, buncha choices here...see if I can get this right....Buck is gonna do a little 'tuck and roll' as we get near the ground (if I can), and start getting to Darryl right off the bat. At the same time, I'm gonna try to yell over to Quazarn with a smile, "Look out! Those fellas don't look happy!" and motion for him to come over to the area where Darryl and I are (not that this is much of anything, Quazzie might have more up his sleeve, or better ideas, but Buck has to acknowledge what his friend has just done for him (us)!]
wulfgar
If possible, Creature is trying to catch Darryl instead of letting him fall onto the ground from the magified steam shovel. Once he catches him (or walks over to him if he didn't catch him), he'll stand by Darryl's side, not really doing much, but ready to pound anyone that comes over with ill intent.
Rondo
(Whew! Glad to hear it...!!!)
Coffee
At this point, Zarko is kind of keeping his head down and staying in Creature's shadow.
If anybody comes around and he can get a sneak attack in, he will. Otherwise, he's watching and waiting.
Dr Rotwang!
Quazarn, cooler than a cryocuke, holds up his hands with an exasperated sigh. "Relax, fella," he intones to the...whatever-it-is. "I know, I know.
"I'm just going to take my young friend home, " he says, nudging Darryl with his toe. "He's had enough and, frankly, so've I."
[Quazarn's Crowd Manipulate is 70%; I rolled a 05, straight up. I have some mini d10s in a little Chessex dice box -- easy, I just pick 'em up, shake and read.]
Confident that he has been understood, the impressive Remulakian bends slowly, casually almost, to retrieve the lizard youth. "You know," he says over his shoulder to the cameloid, "you could help."
Max
The dipper sags so low that the bodies tumble only a few inches to the ground. Creature begins pawing through the injured fighters, looking for Darryl, while Zarko lurks at his side.
Buck jumps to safety just in time [Literally. JM rolled a Lesser Feat for him: rolled 76% -- needed 77%!]. Even as he touches the ground the silly putty chain is pulled to its limit and snaps upward like a giant rubber band. Two of the goblins leap off the basket, one gracefully, the other with an ankle-twisting thud. No such luck for the third, who is shot squealing over the arena wall and into the distance.
The rapidly charging disenchanter veers away from Quazarn towards the locus of strongest arcane energy, the deformed crane. The dweomerdary begins to leech magical energy from the spell, its blue fur standing on end and crackling with sparks. The chain and basket, now limp and deformed, revert to steel.
One of the apothecary goblins is already on his walkie-talkie, calling for stretchers to haul out the wounded. The other hobbles up to Creature, cursing in goblish. "Zhlernitz! You there, move back! Let the medics work! This place is full of zhoddink clods for you to tussle with. You can go pound your head on the wall for all I care! Just back off and let me do my job!"
Dr Rotwang!
Confident that he has been understood, the impressive Remulakian bends slowly, casually almost, to retrieve the lizard youth. "You know," he says over his shoulder... "you could help."
The goblin medic shakes his head, "All I want to do is help your friend, you damned crazy wugmump! If you take a look around you might notice how much harder you're making it for me! And frankly, now you're the one gonna need help. Someone's gonna pay for that crane, brother."
Dr Rotwang!
"Right," intones Quazarn. "Because NO ONE STOPPED TO THINK THAT A WARLOCK CAN UNDO HIS OWN SPELLS. What are you, made out of stupidium?"
Max
The goblin is about to retort when the shooting starts.
Elsewhere
[A scrying pool glows in a darkened cavern.]
PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER: The Brawl is off to a riotous start! The opening ruckus has settled down and the remaining fighters are licking their wounds and taking stock. Traditionally almost 50% of the fighters take themselves out in the first few skirmishes.
COLOR COMMENTATOR: About half, Bob....I allus useta make for the walls and recruit myself a crew a hardheads. Bust down a coupla big dogs to make a rep.
PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER: And as we've seen, most of this year's contenders have -- what's this? Well folks, this happens every so often. It looks like one of the fighters has decided he's leaving right now! [chuckling] He's got a hold of the medevac crane and he's hanging on for dear life.
COLOR COMMENTATOR: Now see, the pressure gets to some of these guys. Blew his cool. Figgered, "I'm gonna end up in the meat wagon sooner or later anyways!" [more laughter]
PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER: The apothecary men won't like that one bit though. That's what the retreat chutes are for, after all.
COLOR COMMENTATOR: Looks like a first-timer, name a Buck...Pusslar.
PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER: That's Buck Pulsar, Clubber.
COLOR COMMENTATOR: Pulsar, yeah.
PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER: Now what's this? Oh my, there's a galactic human of some sort...casting a spell! This Brawl is off to as strange a start as we've seen, folks.
COLOR COMMENTATOR: 'Gainst the rules, Bob. Automatic DQ.
PLAY-BY-PLAY ANNOUNCER: That's right, Clubber, the fighter...Quazarn...will definitely be disqualified. Already they've unleashed the disenchanter, and it's galloping across the arena toward the warlock.[Shoot, dudes, got all creative writing 101 with my update and ran out of time this morning. More tonight, for sure!]
Max
With a blast of colored string and confetti Troublesome Toy takes effect! The hoist chain and dipper begin to stretch and shrink downward toward the ground, turned into silly putty by the spell. A few feet from the ground the bottom of the dipper droops open and bodies begin to spill out of the basket.
A lanky cameloid beast with electric blue fur and a serpentine trunk trumpets across the pitch, sonic glamers rebounding from the walls with its every step.
"PENALTY! ARCANE DISQUALIFICATION! ALL FIGHTERS STEP AWAY FROM FIGHTER #3586," blares the P.A. overhead. Quazarn doesn't need to look down to recognize the number on his bib.
Rondo
[Okay, buncha choices here...see if I can get this right....Buck is gonna do a little 'tuck and roll' as we get near the ground (if I can), and start getting to Darryl right off the bat. At the same time, I'm gonna try to yell over to Quazarn with a smile, "Look out! Those fellas don't look happy!" and motion for him to come over to the area where Darryl and I are (not that this is much of anything, Quazzie might have more up his sleeve, or better ideas, but Buck has to acknowledge what his friend has just done for him (us)!]
wulfgar
If possible, Creature is trying to catch Darryl instead of letting him fall onto the ground from the magified steam shovel. Once he catches him (or walks over to him if he didn't catch him), he'll stand by Darryl's side, not really doing much, but ready to pound anyone that comes over with ill intent.
Rondo
(Whew! Glad to hear it...!!!)
Coffee
At this point, Zarko is kind of keeping his head down and staying in Creature's shadow.
If anybody comes around and he can get a sneak attack in, he will. Otherwise, he's watching and waiting.
Dr Rotwang!
Quazarn, cooler than a cryocuke, holds up his hands with an exasperated sigh. "Relax, fella," he intones to the...whatever-it-is. "I know, I know.
"I'm just going to take my young friend home, " he says, nudging Darryl with his toe. "He's had enough and, frankly, so've I."
[Quazarn's Crowd Manipulate is 70%; I rolled a 05, straight up. I have some mini d10s in a little Chessex dice box -- easy, I just pick 'em up, shake and read.]
Confident that he has been understood, the impressive Remulakian bends slowly, casually almost, to retrieve the lizard youth. "You know," he says over his shoulder to the cameloid, "you could help."
Max
The dipper sags so low that the bodies tumble only a few inches to the ground. Creature begins pawing through the injured fighters, looking for Darryl, while Zarko lurks at his side.
Buck jumps to safety just in time [Literally. JM rolled a Lesser Feat for him: rolled 76% -- needed 77%!]. Even as he touches the ground the silly putty chain is pulled to its limit and snaps upward like a giant rubber band. Two of the goblins leap off the basket, one gracefully, the other with an ankle-twisting thud. No such luck for the third, who is shot squealing over the arena wall and into the distance.
The rapidly charging disenchanter veers away from Quazarn towards the locus of strongest arcane energy, the deformed crane. The dweomerdary begins to leech magical energy from the spell, its blue fur standing on end and crackling with sparks. The chain and basket, now limp and deformed, revert to steel.
One of the apothecary goblins is already on his walkie-talkie, calling for stretchers to haul out the wounded. The other hobbles up to Creature, cursing in goblish. "Zhlernitz! You there, move back! Let the medics work! This place is full of zhoddink clods for you to tussle with. You can go pound your head on the wall for all I care! Just back off and let me do my job!"
Dr Rotwang!
Confident that he has been understood, the impressive Remulakian bends slowly, casually almost, to retrieve the lizard youth. "You know," he says over his shoulder... "you could help."
The goblin medic shakes his head, "All I want to do is help your friend, you damned crazy wugmump! If you take a look around you might notice how much harder you're making it for me! And frankly, now you're the one gonna need help. Someone's gonna pay for that crane, brother."
Dr Rotwang!
"Right," intones Quazarn. "Because NO ONE STOPPED TO THINK THAT A WARLOCK CAN UNDO HIS OWN SPELLS. What are you, made out of stupidium?"
Max
The goblin is about to retort when the shooting starts.
Monday, September 29, 2008
The Brawl: Crane in Vain
Darryl's just been choked out by a half-pint cave wooky...
Rondo
Buck sees Darryl's dilemma....runs over to where he is...I'm attacking anyone I need to in order to get to him, and I'm going to attempt to check on him.
Dr Rotwang!
Quazarn seizes Darryl's arm, and lets it flop to the ground. Seeing Buck approach, he says, "Is our work here done, Mister Pulsar?"
rondo
Checking Darryl for vital signs...
"Our work probably isn't, but looks like the kid's is..."
wulfgar
Creature moves to clobber whoever might bother Buck or Quazran as they check on Darryl.
Attack Roll: 4% HIT
Damage: 9
Saving Throw: 28% MAKE
Max
After the Brawl's first chaotic eruption the arena is quiet. A skirmish here, a shoving match there, but most of the fighters still standing have scattered into loose and wary bunches. Some of the toughest looking fighters appear to have avoided the opening free-for-all entirely, and stand near the walls with their entourages.
The Gibbon drops his guard and bows respectfully as Creature clomps toward him, taking a single step back.
Darryl is unconscious but breathing, his pulse faint but steady. Buck and Quazarn's ministrations are interrupted by a loud *beep*beep*beep* as the crane overhead lowers its shovel bucket.
A goblin work crew hops out and wrestles Darryl and the nearby fallen into the bucket, adding them to the pile of broken, bleeding and groaning Brawlers. "Step back now," orders a gob, tapping the apothecary's badge on his work helmet.
"Lift away!" he calls once Darryl, the wooky and Shepreem are loaded.
Rondo
"I don't think so!" Buck takes off running for the guy running the shovel...he's jumping up in the cabin and clobbering the bastard so he can gain control of the mechanics.
Lesser Feat: 77%
Rolled: 64%
Max
[The shovel bucket's attached to a crane. The cabin is outside of the arena. With your Lesser Feat roll you can make a successful grab onto the bucket as it raises away.]
Rondo
Can I pull Daryl out? If not, I'm climbing in there with him....I'm gonna have to take the risk that I can get him out on the other side of where this thing is going, and both of us survive.
Max
[Have you read Mike Mulligan? If you jump you'll be hanging off the tongue at the bottom. There's a couple, three goblins riding along, hanging onto the teeth atop the dipper.]
[NB. Mike Mulligan's steam shovel Mary, no matter how big-hearted, is a cave primitive next to the crane dipping people out of the arena.]
Rondo
[I live in the redneck capital for shovels...I understand how they work, trust me...I'm trying to make some sort of attempt at either getting him OUT of this thing, or getting me INTO it, cause if I don't try something we're gonna be dealing with a pissed off mother that will hunt us to the end of the earth (and other earths).]
Max
[Cool, just trying to make the situation as clear as possible. Mike Mulligan is one of my all-time favorites, so it's not a dis for me to bring it up :) ]
Rondo
If I can't do anything else, it looks like I'm riding....I'm at least going with him...I'm not trying to be noble (although "heroic" to the stupid-max fits in with the character), but common sense says if we separate physical distance from him too far, we may not get him back.
Max
[OK, ride along you shall.]
wulfgar
Creature gives Buck a boost as he leaps for the shovel. He stands by to catch Darryl if Buck drops him out of the bucket.
[OOC: I think we would have been fine just letting Darryl go, I mean from what we've been told- they don't kill everyone who gets knocked out.
Still fortune favors the bold, in for a penny in for a pound, and so on. It will certainly be interesting to see how this all turns out.]
Rondo
[You may be correct, Wulfgar, but I have two fears:
#1-We don't know his condition...I'd rather say we gave it a shot (which probably isn't going to help diddly-squat with his mom's disposition should he expire), and be right there doing all we can, if possible.
#2-I don't trust this whole deal...we don't know enough to really know for sure what they do with the 'losers.' Given we're in a society that didn't really lift an eyebrow when we blew someone (something) away in a public bar, I wonder what the odds are of them actually 'healing up' any losers.
...and then there's the whole fun of 'running the wild risk!'...as you say, noting ventured, nothing gained!]
Dr Rotwang!
Quazarn assumes an imperious, majestic spell-casting position! He raises his hands toward the shovel as though he were groping an invisible Tura Satana and intones in his deep, seductive voice:
[Quazarn is casting Troublesome Toy1 on the shovel -- or at least the bucket. Whatever skill I need to use, I roll a 06!]
----------------------------------------
1 The good Doctor invited me to assign him his starting Warlock spell. I gave him the Ackroydian name Yainwam's Troublesome Toy, which he decided "allows the caster to turn any one item into a small analog of itself with obvious play value (hence the tiny donkey). The resulting "troublesome" toy is so called because some of them (10% chance) have a tendency to animate themselves (or to become belligerent if previously animate), causing much hassle for the warlock."
Rondo
Buck sees Darryl's dilemma....runs over to where he is...I'm attacking anyone I need to in order to get to him, and I'm going to attempt to check on him.
Dr Rotwang!
Quazarn seizes Darryl's arm, and lets it flop to the ground. Seeing Buck approach, he says, "Is our work here done, Mister Pulsar?"
rondo
Checking Darryl for vital signs...
"Our work probably isn't, but looks like the kid's is..."
wulfgar
Creature moves to clobber whoever might bother Buck or Quazran as they check on Darryl.
Attack Roll: 4% HIT
Damage: 9
Saving Throw: 28% MAKE
Max
After the Brawl's first chaotic eruption the arena is quiet. A skirmish here, a shoving match there, but most of the fighters still standing have scattered into loose and wary bunches. Some of the toughest looking fighters appear to have avoided the opening free-for-all entirely, and stand near the walls with their entourages.
The Gibbon drops his guard and bows respectfully as Creature clomps toward him, taking a single step back.
Darryl is unconscious but breathing, his pulse faint but steady. Buck and Quazarn's ministrations are interrupted by a loud *beep*beep*beep* as the crane overhead lowers its shovel bucket.
A goblin work crew hops out and wrestles Darryl and the nearby fallen into the bucket, adding them to the pile of broken, bleeding and groaning Brawlers. "Step back now," orders a gob, tapping the apothecary's badge on his work helmet.
"Lift away!" he calls once Darryl, the wooky and Shepreem are loaded.
Rondo
"I don't think so!" Buck takes off running for the guy running the shovel...he's jumping up in the cabin and clobbering the bastard so he can gain control of the mechanics.
Lesser Feat: 77%
Rolled: 64%
Max
[The shovel bucket's attached to a crane. The cabin is outside of the arena. With your Lesser Feat roll you can make a successful grab onto the bucket as it raises away.]
Rondo
Can I pull Daryl out? If not, I'm climbing in there with him....I'm gonna have to take the risk that I can get him out on the other side of where this thing is going, and both of us survive.
Max
[Have you read Mike Mulligan? If you jump you'll be hanging off the tongue at the bottom. There's a couple, three goblins riding along, hanging onto the teeth atop the dipper.]
[NB. Mike Mulligan's steam shovel Mary, no matter how big-hearted, is a cave primitive next to the crane dipping people out of the arena.]
Rondo
[I live in the redneck capital for shovels...I understand how they work, trust me...I'm trying to make some sort of attempt at either getting him OUT of this thing, or getting me INTO it, cause if I don't try something we're gonna be dealing with a pissed off mother that will hunt us to the end of the earth (and other earths).]
Max
[Cool, just trying to make the situation as clear as possible. Mike Mulligan is one of my all-time favorites, so it's not a dis for me to bring it up :) ]
Rondo
If I can't do anything else, it looks like I'm riding....I'm at least going with him...I'm not trying to be noble (although "heroic" to the stupid-max fits in with the character), but common sense says if we separate physical distance from him too far, we may not get him back.
Max
[OK, ride along you shall.]
wulfgar
Creature gives Buck a boost as he leaps for the shovel. He stands by to catch Darryl if Buck drops him out of the bucket.
[OOC: I think we would have been fine just letting Darryl go, I mean from what we've been told- they don't kill everyone who gets knocked out.
Still fortune favors the bold, in for a penny in for a pound, and so on. It will certainly be interesting to see how this all turns out.]
Rondo
[You may be correct, Wulfgar, but I have two fears:
#1-We don't know his condition...I'd rather say we gave it a shot (which probably isn't going to help diddly-squat with his mom's disposition should he expire), and be right there doing all we can, if possible.
#2-I don't trust this whole deal...we don't know enough to really know for sure what they do with the 'losers.' Given we're in a society that didn't really lift an eyebrow when we blew someone (something) away in a public bar, I wonder what the odds are of them actually 'healing up' any losers.
...and then there's the whole fun of 'running the wild risk!'...as you say, noting ventured, nothing gained!]
Dr Rotwang!
Quazarn assumes an imperious, majestic spell-casting position! He raises his hands toward the shovel as though he were groping an invisible Tura Satana and intones in his deep, seductive voice:
Hargath! Memnos-dookchokk!Mystic energies swirl around his hands --and direct themselves toward the shovel!
I call upon such might
As only titans have ever known,
The strings of reality unravelled
And re-woven by my hand!
Schlemiel! Schlamazel!
Hassepfeffer Discombobulated!
[Quazarn is casting Troublesome Toy1 on the shovel -- or at least the bucket. Whatever skill I need to use, I roll a 06!]
----------------------------------------
1 The good Doctor invited me to assign him his starting Warlock spell. I gave him the Ackroydian name Yainwam's Troublesome Toy, which he decided "allows the caster to turn any one item into a small analog of itself with obvious play value (hence the tiny donkey). The resulting "troublesome" toy is so called because some of them (10% chance) have a tendency to animate themselves (or to become belligerent if previously animate), causing much hassle for the warlock."
Friday, September 26, 2008
Sgt. T.J. Hobson
Meanwhile, back in the locker room...
Age of Fable
I try to change my hologram clothes to look like anyone working here that I've seen.
Max
You look like a tool in the uniform, but the disguise takes effect. There is an orderly about, you've noticed.
Age of Fable
When the orderly's not there, I'll try to pick the lock of one of the lockers (a big one if they're different sizes).
Max
[Give me three percentile rolls and let's see how it goes.]
Age of Fable
88 , 73 , 83 :(
Max
Hobson struggles with the first locker he tries. The lock is shoddy and pathetic, really, ought to be easy peasy. But he just can't get it to tumble. The second locker opens with a bit of fiddling, but contains only a straw hat, threadbare overalls and a pitch fork. He's a hair away from nicking a third locker open when he hears the orderly nearby.
Rondo
[Hey, Hobson! Smoke the dude! :) ]
Age of Fable
If I can't see the orderly, I'll try to turn my clothes into a police uniform.
Max
The orderly looks startled when he rounds the corner and finds Johnny Law in the locker room. He's a grungy looking orc with a patchy beard and tired eyes. If you had to guess you'd say he'd scavenged his uniform from the locker of a co-worker two sizes smaller. His shirt tails hang out sullenly.
"Oh hey, it's God City's Swinest, ungg, Finest," he says, eyes rolling. "What is it, a bust? A crackdown? Don't let me get in your way, man. But, heengg, I ain't done shit."1
Age of Fable
"Detective-Inspector Hobson. I need these lockers opened."
Max
"Psssh. I need a smoke-bottle fulla magic incense, dude man, but I don't see one. Do you?" The orc looks slowly left and right, pretends to look beneath a bench, then leans against a locker and folds his arms. "Nope. Don't see one. Life is a string of disappointments, man."
Age of Fable
"Right you smart bastard. Get these lockers open NOW, or I will arrest you for impeding a murder investigation."
Max
"Guunng, it's name calling now? I guess you start breaking heads next. Whatever you say, Detective-Defective. I'm just a damn orc, and the damn orc always done it." The orderly sighs heavily, closing his eyes. "I ain't got keys, little big man, but I'm eager to cooperate with this investigation. Gimme just one minute, I'll go get Chief Ball-tard. He'll be thrilled to help out. He lives to serve and protect."
Age of Fable
"Yes, let's see this 'chief'. What's he chief of?"
Max
The orderly straightens up suddenly, assuming a slouchy parade rest. He barks in a pompous voice, "CHIEF Buford Tallbard, HEAD of Installation SEEcurity for Enterprising Hand INcorporated, former DEtective-GeneRAL, Gorgon Sector Alpha, FORmer Precinct CAPtain, God City POlice, LEAD tenor in the God City POliceman's Choir, amateur CHAMPEEN of the EXtreme Karaoke Fighting LEAGUE."
The orc sighs again, blowing his lank forelock out of his eyes, "And a ten-ton pain in my ass. Chief Ball-tard. Bigwig in the the pig gig, man. Surprised you ain't heard of him."
Age of Fable
"Of course I haven't heard of him you fool. I'm on secondment from B Division. Now go and get him at once."
Max
"Oooh, B Division. How impressive," the orc deadpans. He stares dully at Hobson for a few seconds, clears his throat with a nasal wheeze, and reaches for the walkie talkie on his belt.
"Hnnnggh. Yeah, gimme the chief..." A longish wait.
"Chief, it's Chet. Chet White. There's a detective needs, ungk, to see you." The orc winces and holds the walkie talkie away from his ear a good six inches.
"Chester....situation here....damn pointy-headed....blasted....my office."
The walkie-talkie tweets off. Stuffing his hands in his pockets Chet turns and walks toward the locker room door. "Off we go, piglet. I'm sure I'll end up fired over this, or emptying out the hair traps in the shower.* After my ass is cooked and chewed by the Chief of course. Another bee-yoo-ti-ful day for Chester White."
* Wookies and dwarves, man. You don't even wanna know.
Rondo
(Dig it! Someone was FINALLY hip enough to reference wookie pubeage! Now that's the stuff this game is made of! :O ) 2
Age of Fable
[Can I hear the commotion in the arena?]3
Max
[From the locker room, not in any king of identifiable way. If you leave the locker room you could probably check out a replay in one of the lounges off the tunnel. Are you following Chet?]
Age of Fable
Yep.
[I thought I might hear the commotion, and be able to say 'oh my God a riot!' as an excuse to escape]
---------------------------------
1 Chester the orcish orderly's entire demeanor was determined by a few rolls on the 'NPC Facts & Traits' charts on pages 100-101 of the D&D 1e DMG. He is "sloppy, pessimistic, antagonistic, irreverent, but easy-going," which seemed like a fair description of one or two stoners I have known.
2 Disputable.
3 Hobson's conversation with Chester takes place concurrently with certain slapstick antics of Quazarn & Rondo and the chaos that ensued.
Age of Fable
I try to change my hologram clothes to look like anyone working here that I've seen.
Max
You look like a tool in the uniform, but the disguise takes effect. There is an orderly about, you've noticed.
Age of Fable
When the orderly's not there, I'll try to pick the lock of one of the lockers (a big one if they're different sizes).
Max
[Give me three percentile rolls and let's see how it goes.]
Age of Fable
88 , 73 , 83 :(
Max
Hobson struggles with the first locker he tries. The lock is shoddy and pathetic, really, ought to be easy peasy. But he just can't get it to tumble. The second locker opens with a bit of fiddling, but contains only a straw hat, threadbare overalls and a pitch fork. He's a hair away from nicking a third locker open when he hears the orderly nearby.
Rondo
[Hey, Hobson! Smoke the dude! :) ]
Age of Fable
If I can't see the orderly, I'll try to turn my clothes into a police uniform.
Max
The orderly looks startled when he rounds the corner and finds Johnny Law in the locker room. He's a grungy looking orc with a patchy beard and tired eyes. If you had to guess you'd say he'd scavenged his uniform from the locker of a co-worker two sizes smaller. His shirt tails hang out sullenly.
"Oh hey, it's God City's Swinest, ungg, Finest," he says, eyes rolling. "What is it, a bust? A crackdown? Don't let me get in your way, man. But, heengg, I ain't done shit."1
Age of Fable
"Detective-Inspector Hobson. I need these lockers opened."
Max
"Psssh. I need a smoke-bottle fulla magic incense, dude man, but I don't see one. Do you?" The orc looks slowly left and right, pretends to look beneath a bench, then leans against a locker and folds his arms. "Nope. Don't see one. Life is a string of disappointments, man."
Age of Fable
"Right you smart bastard. Get these lockers open NOW, or I will arrest you for impeding a murder investigation."
Max
"Guunng, it's name calling now? I guess you start breaking heads next. Whatever you say, Detective-Defective. I'm just a damn orc, and the damn orc always done it." The orderly sighs heavily, closing his eyes. "I ain't got keys, little big man, but I'm eager to cooperate with this investigation. Gimme just one minute, I'll go get Chief Ball-tard. He'll be thrilled to help out. He lives to serve and protect."
Age of Fable
"Yes, let's see this 'chief'. What's he chief of?"
Max
The orderly straightens up suddenly, assuming a slouchy parade rest. He barks in a pompous voice, "CHIEF Buford Tallbard, HEAD of Installation SEEcurity for Enterprising Hand INcorporated, former DEtective-GeneRAL, Gorgon Sector Alpha, FORmer Precinct CAPtain, God City POlice, LEAD tenor in the God City POliceman's Choir, amateur CHAMPEEN of the EXtreme Karaoke Fighting LEAGUE."
The orc sighs again, blowing his lank forelock out of his eyes, "And a ten-ton pain in my ass. Chief Ball-tard. Bigwig in the the pig gig, man. Surprised you ain't heard of him."
Age of Fable
"Of course I haven't heard of him you fool. I'm on secondment from B Division. Now go and get him at once."
Max
"Oooh, B Division. How impressive," the orc deadpans. He stares dully at Hobson for a few seconds, clears his throat with a nasal wheeze, and reaches for the walkie talkie on his belt.
"Hnnnggh. Yeah, gimme the chief..." A longish wait.
"Chief, it's Chet. Chet White. There's a detective needs, ungk, to see you." The orc winces and holds the walkie talkie away from his ear a good six inches.
"Chester....situation here....damn pointy-headed....blasted....my office."
The walkie-talkie tweets off. Stuffing his hands in his pockets Chet turns and walks toward the locker room door. "Off we go, piglet. I'm sure I'll end up fired over this, or emptying out the hair traps in the shower.* After my ass is cooked and chewed by the Chief of course. Another bee-yoo-ti-ful day for Chester White."
* Wookies and dwarves, man. You don't even wanna know.
Rondo
(Dig it! Someone was FINALLY hip enough to reference wookie pubeage! Now that's the stuff this game is made of! :O ) 2
Age of Fable
[Can I hear the commotion in the arena?]3
Max
[From the locker room, not in any king of identifiable way. If you leave the locker room you could probably check out a replay in one of the lounges off the tunnel. Are you following Chet?]
Age of Fable
Yep.
[I thought I might hear the commotion, and be able to say 'oh my God a riot!' as an excuse to escape]
---------------------------------
1 Chester the orcish orderly's entire demeanor was determined by a few rolls on the 'NPC Facts & Traits' charts on pages 100-101 of the D&D 1e DMG. He is "sloppy, pessimistic, antagonistic, irreverent, but easy-going," which seemed like a fair description of one or two stoners I have known.
2 Disputable.
3 Hobson's conversation with Chester takes place concurrently with certain slapstick antics of Quazarn & Rondo and the chaos that ensued.
The Brawl: Darryl's First Round Double Knockout
Max
[For round two same procedure as before, but roll initiative as well, classic D&D style, adding or subtracting Ranged Damage modifier if any.
[RE: combat descriptions:
[If you prefer to simply post your attack and defense rolls that's fine -- I'll just add in description as needed and (hopefully) appropriate for your character. But please feel free to describe any combat maneuvers as descriptively as you like and I'll work it in.]
wulfgar
Is that group initiative or individual? You might be surprised how many "classic D&D styles" there are.
Max
[You're right, Wulf, of course. Should have been more specific but I was rushing out the door. For this combat: individual initiative on d6, combat sequence stays the same round to round unless you face a new opponent.
[In a more organized battle I'll lean toward group initiative.]
Rondo
Buck throws a "1" on the d6 initiative roll.
Max
[I wasn't very clear above. You get to add your Ranged Damage Bonus, so that's 1+3=4. Go ahead and state what you'll be doing this round and make any melee ATT or ability rolls, damage, and a saving throw.]
Rondo
Oh! Sorry, boss! Wasn't paying attention.....okeedoke: Buck is going for a straight uppercut to the chin if possible.
% Roll: 21% (pass)
Damage: 1 +2=3
Save: (I THINK my save is a poor 21%, from what I'm seeing on the sheet) oooow: "71%"
Coffee
(Sorry I missed the first round yesterday -- work was insane.)
Zarko gets a "1" on the die for initiative -- adding in the "ranged" bonus on +4 gives 5.
Zarko didn't take off his armor (hey, they didn't say I had to, right?).
He goes after the Wooky that's on Darryl.
Melee attack: 55%. Roll of 49 hits!
Damage: 2 (but my bonus is +0, so I got that goin' for me...)
Saving Throw: 37%, and I rolled 29.
(My dice love me this round! But that'll change soon...)
wulfgar
Last round: Creature grabs the nearest opponent by the back of his neck and slams him face first into Creatures shield. The dude drops to the mat. "Next" groans the Frankenstein.
This round:
Initiative: -3 (1+ranged damage modifier (-4))
Attack: 48% Good
Unarmed damage: 8
Saving Throw: 53% Fail
Max
[target selected at random, again?]
wulfgar
Max [target selected at random, again?]
Sure, as long as it's not one of our guys.
[OOC: Hmmmm...that gives me an idea. Maybe the best way to accomplish our mission vis a vis Regina is for one of us to 'accidentally' give Darryl a right cross that sends him to the mat and out of the contest -- dazed but alive. What do you guys think?]
rondo
[Hmm...not bad, Wulfgar....let's resort to that if Daryl starts taking a beating, but let's let the kid hang in there for a tad....that IS indeed a good idea....just want him to really feel like he's had a chance at the fight at least....he's likely to remember when he wakes up who k.o.'d him, so we should give him a chance at it, BUT stick close by!]
Dr Rotwang!
[INITIATIVE: 4-1 = 3
MELEE: 40 (Skill 68%; hit!)
DAMAGE: 2+3 = 5 (Strength of 14; who'd'a thunk?)
SAVE: 46 (Save+Armor = 32%)]
Snarling in a moment of adrenalin-fueled abandon, Quazarn growls at the lizard and lashes out with a fearsome backhand! Following the strike, however, he scuttles back towards Darryl, covering his open flank.
Max
Buck circles the Gibbon, keeping out of the ape's reach. When the ape misses with a looping overhand right, Buck steps in and connects with a quick jab. The Gibbon rolls with the punch and the two fighters continue circling.
"Next" groans Creature, stepping over his first victim. A blindfolded elf in violet robes steps forward calmly, chanting mystically, "The heart is the strongest muscle. The spirit is the apple of the mind's eye. If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine." Before Creature can raise his shield the elf leaps high and lands a flying head kick...
...which barely musses the frankenstein's hair. Creature simply walks through the elf, barreling him over, stomping on the elf's stomach, sternum and neck and right on by. Wheezing, the elf rolls to his knees and pushes up his blindfold. It doesn't take a mind reader to see the panicky look in the elf's eyes when Creature turns around. Gathering up his robe he scampers away.
[Creature: take 1 hp damage]
The lizard man makes a sound like a leaky bicycle tire, flicking its tail. "SSsshepreeem..." As Quazarn scrambles to his feet the whip-tail lashes out, just missing his pointy head. Springing up, the suddenly bold warlock lands a desperate backhand. The lizard deflates, sinking first to its knees, then slumping forward unconscious.
Quazarn rushes to Darryl's side. It isn't going well for the youth: the midget wook is on the lizard boy's back, shaggy arms locked around his neck. Zarko lands a punch on the wooky's temple, but it's not enough. The chokehold is relentless, and it's bedtime for Darryl. The wooky's triumph is short-lived, as the boy teeters, totters, and falls backwards on top of his vanquisher. Their skulls bonk together when they hit the ground, and the wooky is knocked out.
Darryl isn't moving.
[For round two same procedure as before, but roll initiative as well, classic D&D style, adding or subtracting Ranged Damage modifier if any.
[RE: combat descriptions:
[If you prefer to simply post your attack and defense rolls that's fine -- I'll just add in description as needed and (hopefully) appropriate for your character. But please feel free to describe any combat maneuvers as descriptively as you like and I'll work it in.]
wulfgar
Is that group initiative or individual? You might be surprised how many "classic D&D styles" there are.
Max
[You're right, Wulf, of course. Should have been more specific but I was rushing out the door. For this combat: individual initiative on d6, combat sequence stays the same round to round unless you face a new opponent.
[In a more organized battle I'll lean toward group initiative.]
Rondo
Buck throws a "1" on the d6 initiative roll.
Max
[I wasn't very clear above. You get to add your Ranged Damage Bonus, so that's 1+3=4. Go ahead and state what you'll be doing this round and make any melee ATT or ability rolls, damage, and a saving throw.]
Rondo
Oh! Sorry, boss! Wasn't paying attention.....okeedoke: Buck is going for a straight uppercut to the chin if possible.
% Roll: 21% (pass)
Damage: 1 +2=3
Save: (I THINK my save is a poor 21%, from what I'm seeing on the sheet) oooow: "71%"
Coffee
(Sorry I missed the first round yesterday -- work was insane.)
Zarko gets a "1" on the die for initiative -- adding in the "ranged" bonus on +4 gives 5.
Zarko didn't take off his armor (hey, they didn't say I had to, right?).
He goes after the Wooky that's on Darryl.
Melee attack: 55%. Roll of 49 hits!
Damage: 2 (but my bonus is +0, so I got that goin' for me...)
Saving Throw: 37%, and I rolled 29.
(My dice love me this round! But that'll change soon...)
wulfgar
Last round: Creature grabs the nearest opponent by the back of his neck and slams him face first into Creatures shield. The dude drops to the mat. "Next" groans the Frankenstein.
This round:
Initiative: -3 (1+ranged damage modifier (-4))
Attack: 48% Good
Unarmed damage: 8
Saving Throw: 53% Fail
Max
[target selected at random, again?]
wulfgar
Max [target selected at random, again?]
Sure, as long as it's not one of our guys.
[OOC: Hmmmm...that gives me an idea. Maybe the best way to accomplish our mission vis a vis Regina is for one of us to 'accidentally' give Darryl a right cross that sends him to the mat and out of the contest -- dazed but alive. What do you guys think?]
rondo
[Hmm...not bad, Wulfgar....let's resort to that if Daryl starts taking a beating, but let's let the kid hang in there for a tad....that IS indeed a good idea....just want him to really feel like he's had a chance at the fight at least....he's likely to remember when he wakes up who k.o.'d him, so we should give him a chance at it, BUT stick close by!]
Dr Rotwang!
[INITIATIVE: 4-1 = 3
MELEE: 40 (Skill 68%; hit!)
DAMAGE: 2+3 = 5 (Strength of 14; who'd'a thunk?)
SAVE: 46 (Save+Armor = 32%)]
Snarling in a moment of adrenalin-fueled abandon, Quazarn growls at the lizard and lashes out with a fearsome backhand! Following the strike, however, he scuttles back towards Darryl, covering his open flank.
Max
Buck circles the Gibbon, keeping out of the ape's reach. When the ape misses with a looping overhand right, Buck steps in and connects with a quick jab. The Gibbon rolls with the punch and the two fighters continue circling.
"Next" groans Creature, stepping over his first victim. A blindfolded elf in violet robes steps forward calmly, chanting mystically, "The heart is the strongest muscle. The spirit is the apple of the mind's eye. If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you could possibly imagine." Before Creature can raise his shield the elf leaps high and lands a flying head kick...
...which barely musses the frankenstein's hair. Creature simply walks through the elf, barreling him over, stomping on the elf's stomach, sternum and neck and right on by. Wheezing, the elf rolls to his knees and pushes up his blindfold. It doesn't take a mind reader to see the panicky look in the elf's eyes when Creature turns around. Gathering up his robe he scampers away.
[Creature: take 1 hp damage]
The lizard man makes a sound like a leaky bicycle tire, flicking its tail. "SSsshepreeem..." As Quazarn scrambles to his feet the whip-tail lashes out, just missing his pointy head. Springing up, the suddenly bold warlock lands a desperate backhand. The lizard deflates, sinking first to its knees, then slumping forward unconscious.
Quazarn rushes to Darryl's side. It isn't going well for the youth: the midget wook is on the lizard boy's back, shaggy arms locked around his neck. Zarko lands a punch on the wooky's temple, but it's not enough. The chokehold is relentless, and it's bedtime for Darryl. The wooky's triumph is short-lived, as the boy teeters, totters, and falls backwards on top of his vanquisher. Their skulls bonk together when they hit the ground, and the wooky is knocked out.
Darryl isn't moving.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
The Brawl: Place Yer Bets and Take Yer Chances
Max
The arena is at least a hundred yards square, bound on all four sides by the wooden palisade. There are no spectators in the arena, but dozens of holovids and crystal balls stud the walls, and spy cameras slide back and forth over head on nearly invisible cables.
Brawlers spread out across the arena, pacing and stamping, some blustery and glaring, some slyly sizing up the other fighters. Many cluster around the tunnel mouth, circling for position, but you note a few jogging toward the corners.
"GENTLEMEN AND AMAZONS, THE BRAWL WILL COMMENCE IN 12...11...10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1!" A gong crashes, and the arena seethes into ACTION! Fists, elbows, and knees smash chins, bellies and shins.
[Since I'm moving ahead briskly feel free to take any last preparatory actions. Here's my suggestion for handling combat: post your Melee Attack (or roll for any other ability you wish to use), damage if you hit, and Saving Throw all at once. If your attack takes your foe down I'll try to throw back to you to narrate the cool knock-out. Aside from quick questions I'll probably wait till most or all of you have taken your actions and then update all at once.]
wulfgar
Creature's rolls:
Melee Attack: 98% (Make)
Unarmed Damage: 9
Saving Throw: 45% (Fail- either without or without my armor/shield )
Rondo
Buck hovers close to Quazzer and Darryl if possible. I'm particularly keeping an eye on Darryl, since all of our lives depend on that...!
Roll: 41....made it.
Damage: 2 (1-3 bare hand)
Max
I take it you fellas are just swinging at the nearest targets then?
[Special combat note: for the purposes of the Brawl all damage is subdual. As Rondo noted, it's 1-3 for everyone but Warriors, who do 1-6. Add STR bonus to damage if any.
[At 0 hps you are staggered. Your bell's been rung but you can continue fighting if you wish. However you must make a Survival Roll each round to stay conscious. If you drop below your STR score in negative numbers you will die. ]
wulfgar
Yeah, he's swinging at the nearest entity that isn't part of the group or Darryl.
By the way, this is really neat. For some reason I was thinking there was going to be a March Madness/Karate Kid style tournament with brackets and 1 vs 1 bouts. Everybody going at it at once is a nice twist.
rondo
(cool. What Rondo wants, and how Buck acts may be two different things...I too would like to stay alive and not macho, but Buck lives for this sort of thing, so he'll probably stay in it for the long haul.)
Rondo
(Oh! I get my +2 Damage bonus, so it's "5"...thanks, Max for mentioning the melee bonus!)
..er "4"...sorry
Rondo
(Just wanted to point out, Max: I gave the rest of my scratch to Zarko if you recall for bettin' on a haul for the kid....put it down on Creature)
Dr Rotwang!
Gulping his fear, Quazarn allows the fray to begin! As thugs, brutes and murderers crowd around him, he drops himself swiftly into his preferred battle-ready position:
Covering his face with his forearms.
He takes time to kick wildly at the lower parts of whatever combatant is fool enough to approach him, rocking their shins like the proverbial hurricane.
MELEE ATTACK: 90 (Skill: 68%)
DAMAGE: Ha!
SAVING THROW: 21 (Throw: 17%)
Rondo
(How's the boy doing?)
Max
Fists, elbows and knees smash chins, bellies and shins. Yells and hoots and grunts resound in the arena as bodies collide. The Brawl has begun!
Creature strikes out at the nearest fighter, a burly human wearing only a thong and a miasma of cheap cologne. Despite his bulging muscles the human goes down with Creature's first blow! [And Wulf gets to describe his knockout.]
Buck squares off with an ape of the gibbon tribe, ducking in under the ape's swinging arms to sock him in the gut. The gibbon grimaces, but fights on, feinting kicks and trying to loop its long arms around Buck's neck.
Speaking of kicks, Quazarn's unusual fighting style draws the eye of a whip-tailed lizard man. It hisses "Sh'preeeem" and sweeps at Quazarn's thrashing legs with its tail. Lizard and conehead are equally ineffective. [Quazarn's saving throw should include his vest, unless he stowed his armor.]
Max
Coffee
Zarko scans the area for any possibility of getting a bet down. He's going to bet on Darryl to survive, if such a thing is possible. He'll put all of his money on that (plus the fiver he borrowed).
Max
"No life or death stakes, buddy. Don't usually more'n, oh two three fighters die in a Brawl. Now that young rep-tile looks like'n a pipsqueak. But he ain't what you'd call a known quan-ti-ty. I can give you sundown once at two to one, noon twice at five to one. Sundown twice...call it ten to one."
[Most bets are based on how long a fighter remains unbeaten in the two day Brawl. Sundown once=end of first day, noon twice=noon of second day, etc]
[Hey fellas, need to resolve this before combat continues....The line on Creature, also an unknown fighter, is sundown once at two to one, noon twice at three to one, sundown twice at five to one.
[I hear 5 on Creature from Buck -- how long you bet he'll last? But Zarko wants to bet it all on the kid. Again, for how long?
[Oh, and sorry if the betting is kind of vanilla. I don't know doodly squat about gambling.]
wulfgar
Do we know anything about how the format of the fight goes? Are going to be battling away continuously for over 24 hours? Or do they take breaks -- to remove the losers, have the towel boy mop up the sweat, and let the fighters suck on orange wedges -- stuff like that?
Rondo
Buck may be optimistic, and a bit nuts, but he's thinking Creature will hang it for the long haul! I got faith in the ol' guy....wondering the same specifics as above mentioned, however: do we know when they're calling rounds, or is this to the unconscious blow and then they cart you off, er what?
Max
[These are all excellent questions, aren't they?]
Coffee
Okay, if the betting doesn't include mere survival, my best chance for gain is to bet on Creature. So that's what I'll do: Creature, for two sundowns, all I've got.
I have 5 from my friend (whose name escapes me at the moment, but I'll go back and find it) and like 2 of my own. So I want to have put 7 down on Creature.
Meanwhile, back to the brawl!
Max
[Thanks Coffee! Got you down for 8 total, sundown twice for Creature! A wiser decision than betting on Darryl, as you're soon to discover...]
Lunging at a shrimpy looking cave wooky, Darryl trips over Quazarn's flailing legs and goes reeling towards the furry half-pint. Somehow Darryl manages to connect with a flailing haymaker. The wook winces, blinks, then clubs the lizard youngling with a double-fisted uppercut. Darryl staggers back woozily, still on his feet but dazed. The wooky roars and bares its teeth...
The arena is at least a hundred yards square, bound on all four sides by the wooden palisade. There are no spectators in the arena, but dozens of holovids and crystal balls stud the walls, and spy cameras slide back and forth over head on nearly invisible cables.
Brawlers spread out across the arena, pacing and stamping, some blustery and glaring, some slyly sizing up the other fighters. Many cluster around the tunnel mouth, circling for position, but you note a few jogging toward the corners.
"GENTLEMEN AND AMAZONS, THE BRAWL WILL COMMENCE IN 12...11...10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1!" A gong crashes, and the arena seethes into ACTION! Fists, elbows, and knees smash chins, bellies and shins.
[Since I'm moving ahead briskly feel free to take any last preparatory actions. Here's my suggestion for handling combat: post your Melee Attack (or roll for any other ability you wish to use), damage if you hit, and Saving Throw all at once. If your attack takes your foe down I'll try to throw back to you to narrate the cool knock-out. Aside from quick questions I'll probably wait till most or all of you have taken your actions and then update all at once.]
wulfgar
Creature's rolls:
Melee Attack: 98% (Make)
Unarmed Damage: 9
Saving Throw: 45% (Fail- either without or without my armor/shield )
Rondo
Buck hovers close to Quazzer and Darryl if possible. I'm particularly keeping an eye on Darryl, since all of our lives depend on that...!
Roll: 41....made it.
Damage: 2 (1-3 bare hand)
Max
I take it you fellas are just swinging at the nearest targets then?
[Special combat note: for the purposes of the Brawl all damage is subdual. As Rondo noted, it's 1-3 for everyone but Warriors, who do 1-6. Add STR bonus to damage if any.
[At 0 hps you are staggered. Your bell's been rung but you can continue fighting if you wish. However you must make a Survival Roll each round to stay conscious. If you drop below your STR score in negative numbers you will die. ]
wulfgar
Yeah, he's swinging at the nearest entity that isn't part of the group or Darryl.
By the way, this is really neat. For some reason I was thinking there was going to be a March Madness/Karate Kid style tournament with brackets and 1 vs 1 bouts. Everybody going at it at once is a nice twist.
rondo
(cool. What Rondo wants, and how Buck acts may be two different things...I too would like to stay alive and not macho, but Buck lives for this sort of thing, so he'll probably stay in it for the long haul.)
Rondo
(Oh! I get my +2 Damage bonus, so it's "5"...thanks, Max for mentioning the melee bonus!)
..er "4"...sorry
Rondo
(Just wanted to point out, Max: I gave the rest of my scratch to Zarko if you recall for bettin' on a haul for the kid....put it down on Creature)
Dr Rotwang!
Gulping his fear, Quazarn allows the fray to begin! As thugs, brutes and murderers crowd around him, he drops himself swiftly into his preferred battle-ready position:
Covering his face with his forearms.
He takes time to kick wildly at the lower parts of whatever combatant is fool enough to approach him, rocking their shins like the proverbial hurricane.
MELEE ATTACK: 90 (Skill: 68%)
DAMAGE: Ha!
SAVING THROW: 21 (Throw: 17%)
Rondo
(How's the boy doing?)
Max
Fists, elbows and knees smash chins, bellies and shins. Yells and hoots and grunts resound in the arena as bodies collide. The Brawl has begun!
Creature strikes out at the nearest fighter, a burly human wearing only a thong and a miasma of cheap cologne. Despite his bulging muscles the human goes down with Creature's first blow! [And Wulf gets to describe his knockout.]
Buck squares off with an ape of the gibbon tribe, ducking in under the ape's swinging arms to sock him in the gut. The gibbon grimaces, but fights on, feinting kicks and trying to loop its long arms around Buck's neck.
Speaking of kicks, Quazarn's unusual fighting style draws the eye of a whip-tailed lizard man. It hisses "Sh'preeeem" and sweeps at Quazarn's thrashing legs with its tail. Lizard and conehead are equally ineffective. [Quazarn's saving throw should include his vest, unless he stowed his armor.]
Max
Coffee
Zarko scans the area for any possibility of getting a bet down. He's going to bet on Darryl to survive, if such a thing is possible. He'll put all of his money on that (plus the fiver he borrowed).
Max
"No life or death stakes, buddy. Don't usually more'n, oh two three fighters die in a Brawl. Now that young rep-tile looks like'n a pipsqueak. But he ain't what you'd call a known quan-ti-ty. I can give you sundown once at two to one, noon twice at five to one. Sundown twice...call it ten to one."
[Most bets are based on how long a fighter remains unbeaten in the two day Brawl. Sundown once=end of first day, noon twice=noon of second day, etc]
[Hey fellas, need to resolve this before combat continues....The line on Creature, also an unknown fighter, is sundown once at two to one, noon twice at three to one, sundown twice at five to one.
[I hear 5 on Creature from Buck -- how long you bet he'll last? But Zarko wants to bet it all on the kid. Again, for how long?
[Oh, and sorry if the betting is kind of vanilla. I don't know doodly squat about gambling.]
wulfgar
Do we know anything about how the format of the fight goes? Are going to be battling away continuously for over 24 hours? Or do they take breaks -- to remove the losers, have the towel boy mop up the sweat, and let the fighters suck on orange wedges -- stuff like that?
Rondo
Buck may be optimistic, and a bit nuts, but he's thinking Creature will hang it for the long haul! I got faith in the ol' guy....wondering the same specifics as above mentioned, however: do we know when they're calling rounds, or is this to the unconscious blow and then they cart you off, er what?
Max
[These are all excellent questions, aren't they?]
Coffee
Okay, if the betting doesn't include mere survival, my best chance for gain is to bet on Creature. So that's what I'll do: Creature, for two sundowns, all I've got.
I have 5 from my friend (whose name escapes me at the moment, but I'll go back and find it) and like 2 of my own. So I want to have put 7 down on Creature.
Meanwhile, back to the brawl!
Max
[Thanks Coffee! Got you down for 8 total, sundown twice for Creature! A wiser decision than betting on Darryl, as you're soon to discover...]
Lunging at a shrimpy looking cave wooky, Darryl trips over Quazarn's flailing legs and goes reeling towards the furry half-pint. Somehow Darryl manages to connect with a flailing haymaker. The wook winces, blinks, then clubs the lizard youngling with a double-fisted uppercut. Darryl staggers back woozily, still on his feet but dazed. The wooky roars and bares its teeth...
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
The Brawl: Prelude
Max
Tumbling out of the sleeping tubes and stepping stiffly out of the van the next morning you find yourselves on a spreading green lawn. Vehicles of all models and states of repair are parked in hilter kilter rows -- damn' vans, jump bikes, cave primitive jalopies and chopped motorcycles next to sleek mag-runners and flying carpets fringed with golden thread.
Just as motley are the folks gathering for the Brawl. A few cars away a red-faced strongman in a striped leotard does a vein-popping isometric workout while an obese elven swami looks on, standing on one leg and sneering. Wooky roars and dwarven work songs rise above the low commotion.
The lawn slopes gently to a low, wide-fronted mansion in the austere yet pompous Vulkin style. The building is in poor repair, but clusters of jerry-rigged antennae and satellite platters jut from the roof. Tents and food stalls flank the house. But it's the wall that draws your attention above all else: A high wooden palisade stands in the back lawn of the estate, three or four stories tall. As far as you can see there are neither windows nor bleachers, and only a single entrance through a tunnel off to one side of the manse. Guard towers spaced every few hundred feet make it look more like a prison than an arena, and you can hardly guess at why a crane towers over the walls.
"Hey guyth!" jitters Darryl, popping out from behind the limbo van. He sips coffee from a styrofoam cup. "How did you sthleep? I've been up an hour, sthcoping the competithion. Who'th this? I've never et a hobling before. Ha! I mean met a hobling. Justh joking! I'm Darryl. Doeth anyone want thome coffee?"
[I'll post at lunch tomorrow if time permits. In the meantime let me know if you have any reconnoitering you'd like to do]
wulfgar
Creature eyes scan the area for the following:
-any sign of the POlice
-any sign of grub
-any sign of Regina
Max
Creature doesn't see any fuzz, but the watch towers on the palisade are manned. The only sign of Madam Regina is her offspring, previously noted.
At the base of the palisade wall vendors hawk greasy carny food and Brawl memorabilia.
Rondo
Buck stretches his arms and yawns, "Hey there, Darryl."...Buck is eyeballing the layout of this place. Scoping out anything that looks like losers could be liquidated with: 3 headed giant cages, bloody holes in the ground, 35' plasma destructor ray cannons, etc.
Max
Most of the guards on the towers appear to be armed with modern crossbows. A few carry wide-nozzled hoses strapped to canisters on their backs. No other obvious threats, but you can see nothing of the arena itself.
Dr Rotwang!
Quazarn, Master of Magyks, is nervous.
Very nervous.
Quazarn is a warlock. His is a higher art than that of these common...well, his is a higher art than fisticuffs. Were this a wizards' duel, he'd be more in his element; if it were a popularity contest, he'd be a sure champion. Yet this competition is one of brute force, and it is not therein that his strengths lie.
In other words, he's a wimp and he's scared.
All the same, he does his best to appear unperturbed. He masks his insecurity under a veneer of concentration ("No, I'm sitting over here quietly and with closed eyes because I'm meditating," he is heard to say), but deep inside he is wondering to himself -- What have I got myself into? Why did I agree to this? Why am I even ON VANTH?!
His suffering is silent, his introspection in vain. Soon the Brawl will commence --
-- and he, perhaps, will meet his end.
He asks the orcs to turn up "Baby Come Back" a little louder -- "Yes," he insists to them, "AGAIN."
rondo
Buck notes Quazzie doing some serious meditation....he approaches, "Hold on to that magic stuff of yours....we may need it to get out of this mess! Don't worry, bud, I'm not gonna be stupid enough to let you get killed...just be there to throw the heebie-jeebie in yer so good at to keep us from getting killed!"
Max
Dr Rotwang!
He asks the orcs to turn up "Baby Come Back" a little louder -- "Yes," he insists to them, "AGAIN."
"Gnuggh, bung away now! We're off shift," snuffles the driver, punching in the soundcube for some kind of squealing orcish blues rock.
Quazarn has no chance to voice his disapproval. The pork-rock, the din of the crowd and the yells of peanut vendors are drowned out by a blast of static and a bland voice announcing over a whining PA speaker, "ALL FIGHTERS, REPORT TO THE TUNNEL. PLEASE HAVE YOUR INVITATIONS READY."
"Don't worry, guyth," chirps Darryl tensely, "I got 'em right here. Excthept for the hobling. Isth he in the Brawl too?"
[Is he, indeed? Does Hobson plan to take his chances in the ring? He can probably whinge an invitation from a scalper if he wishes.
[You others, this is your chance for any last minute preps...]
Age of Fable
I press the jewel on my cloak, turning my Hologram Clothes into an appropriate camouflage pattern, and no doubt earning a substantial bonus to Sneak and hide.
wulfgar
Creature falls into line with the other brawlers headed towards the tunnel. He stays close by Darryl, and slightly behind. Eyes alert for any threat in the crowd.
[If we're going to be Darryl's security detail, someone else should be sure stay in front, and to the flanks. Maybe Darryl's mom can hook us up with some secret service style earphones.]
Coffee
Zarko scans the area for any possibility of getting a bet down.
He's going to bet on Darryl to survive, if such a thing is possible. He'll put all of his money on that (plus the fiver he borrowed).
It won't matter if he loses, because he'll be dead himself...
Age of Fable
I look for anyone who might have an invitation I could steal (e.g. if it's in their back pocket).
Max
[Roll Happenstance & we'll see]
Age of Fable
http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showp...&postcount=124
1 !!!!
Max
[critical success!]
Hobson is so focused on checking out asses that he trips over a snap-brim cap lying in the grass. Picking it up he realizes it's his exact size and, according to the sewn-in label, is the "Property of Tyson Hobfoot." No less preposterously, an invitation is tucked into the lining of the cap.
Dr Rotwang!
Shuddering inside but stone-cold bad-ass without, Quazarn lifts his chin and strides confidently at Darryl's side.
Age of Fable
I ask Quazarn "so...what did you think of my idea?"
Dr Rotwang!
"...eh? I'm -- I'm sorry, which...?"
Age of Fable
"Well...you know how some adventurers carry everything they own with them all the time? I thought there might be some easy pickings."
Dr Rotwang!
"Oh! Ah. That one. Well...very well."
Hobson
"Um...OK. You sure you're completely OK with that? It seems like a pretty major change of plan for you guys. Is the Creature gonna understand?"
Dr Rotwang!
"Let's go with 'no', then."
Max
Coffee
Zarko scans the area for any possibility of getting a bet down. He's going to bet on Darryl to survive, if such a thing is possible. He'll put all of his money on that (plus the fiver he borrowed).
"No life or death stakes, buddy. Don't usually more'n, oh two three fighters die in a Brawl. Now that young rep-tile looks like'n a pipsqueak. But he ain't what you'd call a known quan-ti-ty. I can give you sundown once at two to one, noon twice at five to one. Sundown twice...call it ten to one."
[Most bets are based on how long a fighter remains unbeaten in the two day Brawl. Sundown once=end of first day, noon twice=noon of second day, etc]
Max
Your crew of six joins the press of fighters moving toward the arena. A Roget's dozen of amazons, battlers, belligerents, boxers, bruisers, contenders, grapplers, gladiators, he-men, pugilists, rowdies, scrappers, and thugs crowds into the tunnel.
The throng splits into several lines in the tunnel, each passing through a turnstile where invitations are checked. The mild voice on the loudspeaker continues: "ALL FIGHTERS, REPORT TO THE TUNNEL. PLEASE HAVE YOUR INVITATIONS READY. AFTER CHECK IN PROCEED TO THE LOCKER ROOMS TO STOW YOUR WEAPONS AND EFFECTS. PLEASE USE THE LOCKERS PROVIDED. ENTERPRISING HAND, INCORPORATED IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR LOST VALUABLES OR GEAR."
Each of you is stamped with a locker code and given a numbered bib as you pass through the turnstile. In the locker rooms the mood is polite but tense. Darryl rocks from foot to foot, shadowboxing in front of his locker; from what you can tell he loses the bout against himself in a split decision.
"BIGBY SMALL'S BIGTIME BRAWL IS A TEST OF INDIVIDUAL STRENGTH AND MARTIAL PROWESS. NO WEAPONS, MAGIC OR PSI POWERS ARE PERMITTED."
Your gear stowed* you continue through the tunnel. It slopes up again near the middle of the arena. The crowd bottlenecks at a narrow gate. A cage to one side holds a bald and scabby ornithorhynchoid with a fanged beak. At the other side is a long-legged ungulate with electric blue fur and a wriggling trunk. After passing between these odd beasts each fighter is scanned by a curvaceous cyaborg with an x-ray camera mounted on her neck.
"AS YOU ENTER THE ARENA PLEASE NOTE THE LOCATION OF THE RETREAT CHUTES--" "Chicken holes!" jeers a thick-necked amazon. "IF YOU WISH TO RETIRE FROM THE FIELD OF BATTLE AT ANY TIME PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE NEAREST RETREAT CHUTE. THERE IS NO REENTRY."
*[let me know if you'll be chancing any gear.]
Dr Rotwang!
Max
"BIGBY SMALL'S BIGTIME BRAWL IS A TEST OF INDIVIDUAL STRENGTH AND MARTIAL PROWESS. NO WEAPONS, MAGIC OR PSI POWERS ARE PERMITTED."
"Mister Pulsar," sneers Quazarn, "I am coming back to haunt you."
wulfgar
Creature stows all his gear in the locker room.
Age of Fable
When we get to the lockers, I'll see if there's anywhere I could hide.
Max
It's a fairly standard changing room: benches, lockers, showers. You might be able to squeeze into your locker, but it would be tight as sardines. There is a supply closet you could try getting into [Dex check on d20].
Age of Fable
I try and fail.
I try to change my hologram clothes to look like anyone working here that I've seen.
Max
You look like a tool in the uniform, but the disguise takes effect. There is an orderly about, you've noticed.
wulfgar
Did we have to take our armor off? It's not a weapon, magic, or psi power
Max
[Shoot, you got me. You can guarantee there'll be controversy over this Brawl, and heads will roll in the front office, but as it wasn't expressly forbidden in the final draft of the fight regulations, armor is ok. I'll warn you though: everyone will think you're a pansy for wearing it.]
wulfgar
[I'd rather be a pansy and live then macho and dead. (Creature's saving throw is a NEGATIVE 1% without armor, 42% with)]
Tumbling out of the sleeping tubes and stepping stiffly out of the van the next morning you find yourselves on a spreading green lawn. Vehicles of all models and states of repair are parked in hilter kilter rows -- damn' vans, jump bikes, cave primitive jalopies and chopped motorcycles next to sleek mag-runners and flying carpets fringed with golden thread.
Just as motley are the folks gathering for the Brawl. A few cars away a red-faced strongman in a striped leotard does a vein-popping isometric workout while an obese elven swami looks on, standing on one leg and sneering. Wooky roars and dwarven work songs rise above the low commotion.
The lawn slopes gently to a low, wide-fronted mansion in the austere yet pompous Vulkin style. The building is in poor repair, but clusters of jerry-rigged antennae and satellite platters jut from the roof. Tents and food stalls flank the house. But it's the wall that draws your attention above all else: A high wooden palisade stands in the back lawn of the estate, three or four stories tall. As far as you can see there are neither windows nor bleachers, and only a single entrance through a tunnel off to one side of the manse. Guard towers spaced every few hundred feet make it look more like a prison than an arena, and you can hardly guess at why a crane towers over the walls.
"Hey guyth!" jitters Darryl, popping out from behind the limbo van. He sips coffee from a styrofoam cup. "How did you sthleep? I've been up an hour, sthcoping the competithion. Who'th this? I've never et a hobling before. Ha! I mean met a hobling. Justh joking! I'm Darryl. Doeth anyone want thome coffee?"
[I'll post at lunch tomorrow if time permits. In the meantime let me know if you have any reconnoitering you'd like to do]
wulfgar
Creature eyes scan the area for the following:
-any sign of the POlice
-any sign of grub
-any sign of Regina
Max
Creature doesn't see any fuzz, but the watch towers on the palisade are manned. The only sign of Madam Regina is her offspring, previously noted.
At the base of the palisade wall vendors hawk greasy carny food and Brawl memorabilia.
Rondo
Buck stretches his arms and yawns, "Hey there, Darryl."...Buck is eyeballing the layout of this place. Scoping out anything that looks like losers could be liquidated with: 3 headed giant cages, bloody holes in the ground, 35' plasma destructor ray cannons, etc.
Max
Most of the guards on the towers appear to be armed with modern crossbows. A few carry wide-nozzled hoses strapped to canisters on their backs. No other obvious threats, but you can see nothing of the arena itself.
Dr Rotwang!
Quazarn, Master of Magyks, is nervous.
Very nervous.
Quazarn is a warlock. His is a higher art than that of these common...well, his is a higher art than fisticuffs. Were this a wizards' duel, he'd be more in his element; if it were a popularity contest, he'd be a sure champion. Yet this competition is one of brute force, and it is not therein that his strengths lie.
In other words, he's a wimp and he's scared.
All the same, he does his best to appear unperturbed. He masks his insecurity under a veneer of concentration ("No, I'm sitting over here quietly and with closed eyes because I'm meditating," he is heard to say), but deep inside he is wondering to himself -- What have I got myself into? Why did I agree to this? Why am I even ON VANTH?!
His suffering is silent, his introspection in vain. Soon the Brawl will commence --
-- and he, perhaps, will meet his end.
He asks the orcs to turn up "Baby Come Back" a little louder -- "Yes," he insists to them, "AGAIN."
rondo
Buck notes Quazzie doing some serious meditation....he approaches, "Hold on to that magic stuff of yours....we may need it to get out of this mess! Don't worry, bud, I'm not gonna be stupid enough to let you get killed...just be there to throw the heebie-jeebie in yer so good at to keep us from getting killed!"
Max
Dr Rotwang!
He asks the orcs to turn up "Baby Come Back" a little louder -- "Yes," he insists to them, "AGAIN."
"Gnuggh, bung away now! We're off shift," snuffles the driver, punching in the soundcube for some kind of squealing orcish blues rock.
Quazarn has no chance to voice his disapproval. The pork-rock, the din of the crowd and the yells of peanut vendors are drowned out by a blast of static and a bland voice announcing over a whining PA speaker, "ALL FIGHTERS, REPORT TO THE TUNNEL. PLEASE HAVE YOUR INVITATIONS READY."
"Don't worry, guyth," chirps Darryl tensely, "I got 'em right here. Excthept for the hobling. Isth he in the Brawl too?"
[Is he, indeed? Does Hobson plan to take his chances in the ring? He can probably whinge an invitation from a scalper if he wishes.
[You others, this is your chance for any last minute preps...]
Age of Fable
I press the jewel on my cloak, turning my Hologram Clothes into an appropriate camouflage pattern, and no doubt earning a substantial bonus to Sneak and hide.
wulfgar
Creature falls into line with the other brawlers headed towards the tunnel. He stays close by Darryl, and slightly behind. Eyes alert for any threat in the crowd.
[If we're going to be Darryl's security detail, someone else should be sure stay in front, and to the flanks. Maybe Darryl's mom can hook us up with some secret service style earphones.]
Coffee
Zarko scans the area for any possibility of getting a bet down.
He's going to bet on Darryl to survive, if such a thing is possible. He'll put all of his money on that (plus the fiver he borrowed).
It won't matter if he loses, because he'll be dead himself...
Age of Fable
I look for anyone who might have an invitation I could steal (e.g. if it's in their back pocket).
Max
[Roll Happenstance & we'll see]
Age of Fable
http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showp...&postcount=124
1 !!!!
Max
[critical success!]
Hobson is so focused on checking out asses that he trips over a snap-brim cap lying in the grass. Picking it up he realizes it's his exact size and, according to the sewn-in label, is the "Property of Tyson Hobfoot." No less preposterously, an invitation is tucked into the lining of the cap.
Dr Rotwang!
Shuddering inside but stone-cold bad-ass without, Quazarn lifts his chin and strides confidently at Darryl's side.
Age of Fable
I ask Quazarn "so...what did you think of my idea?"
Dr Rotwang!
"...eh? I'm -- I'm sorry, which...?"
Age of Fable
"Well...you know how some adventurers carry everything they own with them all the time? I thought there might be some easy pickings."
Dr Rotwang!
"Oh! Ah. That one. Well...very well."
Hobson
"Um...OK. You sure you're completely OK with that? It seems like a pretty major change of plan for you guys. Is the Creature gonna understand?"
Dr Rotwang!
"Let's go with 'no', then."
Max
Coffee
Zarko scans the area for any possibility of getting a bet down. He's going to bet on Darryl to survive, if such a thing is possible. He'll put all of his money on that (plus the fiver he borrowed).
"No life or death stakes, buddy. Don't usually more'n, oh two three fighters die in a Brawl. Now that young rep-tile looks like'n a pipsqueak. But he ain't what you'd call a known quan-ti-ty. I can give you sundown once at two to one, noon twice at five to one. Sundown twice...call it ten to one."
[Most bets are based on how long a fighter remains unbeaten in the two day Brawl. Sundown once=end of first day, noon twice=noon of second day, etc]
Max
Your crew of six joins the press of fighters moving toward the arena. A Roget's dozen of amazons, battlers, belligerents, boxers, bruisers, contenders, grapplers, gladiators, he-men, pugilists, rowdies, scrappers, and thugs crowds into the tunnel.
The throng splits into several lines in the tunnel, each passing through a turnstile where invitations are checked. The mild voice on the loudspeaker continues: "ALL FIGHTERS, REPORT TO THE TUNNEL. PLEASE HAVE YOUR INVITATIONS READY. AFTER CHECK IN PROCEED TO THE LOCKER ROOMS TO STOW YOUR WEAPONS AND EFFECTS. PLEASE USE THE LOCKERS PROVIDED. ENTERPRISING HAND, INCORPORATED IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR LOST VALUABLES OR GEAR."
Each of you is stamped with a locker code and given a numbered bib as you pass through the turnstile. In the locker rooms the mood is polite but tense. Darryl rocks from foot to foot, shadowboxing in front of his locker; from what you can tell he loses the bout against himself in a split decision.
"BIGBY SMALL'S BIGTIME BRAWL IS A TEST OF INDIVIDUAL STRENGTH AND MARTIAL PROWESS. NO WEAPONS, MAGIC OR PSI POWERS ARE PERMITTED."
Your gear stowed* you continue through the tunnel. It slopes up again near the middle of the arena. The crowd bottlenecks at a narrow gate. A cage to one side holds a bald and scabby ornithorhynchoid with a fanged beak. At the other side is a long-legged ungulate with electric blue fur and a wriggling trunk. After passing between these odd beasts each fighter is scanned by a curvaceous cyaborg with an x-ray camera mounted on her neck.
"AS YOU ENTER THE ARENA PLEASE NOTE THE LOCATION OF THE RETREAT CHUTES--" "Chicken holes!" jeers a thick-necked amazon. "IF YOU WISH TO RETIRE FROM THE FIELD OF BATTLE AT ANY TIME PLEASE MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE NEAREST RETREAT CHUTE. THERE IS NO REENTRY."
*[let me know if you'll be chancing any gear.]
Dr Rotwang!
Max
"BIGBY SMALL'S BIGTIME BRAWL IS A TEST OF INDIVIDUAL STRENGTH AND MARTIAL PROWESS. NO WEAPONS, MAGIC OR PSI POWERS ARE PERMITTED."
"Mister Pulsar," sneers Quazarn, "I am coming back to haunt you."
wulfgar
Creature stows all his gear in the locker room.
Age of Fable
When we get to the lockers, I'll see if there's anywhere I could hide.
Max
It's a fairly standard changing room: benches, lockers, showers. You might be able to squeeze into your locker, but it would be tight as sardines. There is a supply closet you could try getting into [Dex check on d20].
Age of Fable
I try and fail.
I try to change my hologram clothes to look like anyone working here that I've seen.
Max
You look like a tool in the uniform, but the disguise takes effect. There is an orderly about, you've noticed.
wulfgar
Did we have to take our armor off? It's not a weapon, magic, or psi power
Max
[Shoot, you got me. You can guarantee there'll be controversy over this Brawl, and heads will roll in the front office, but as it wasn't expressly forbidden in the final draft of the fight regulations, armor is ok. I'll warn you though: everyone will think you're a pansy for wearing it.]
wulfgar
[I'd rather be a pansy and live then macho and dead. (Creature's saving throw is a NEGATIVE 1% without armor, 42% with)]
