The Brawl: All the Young Dudes

Creature, Buck and Zarko regroup after the goon show.

wulfgar

Creature finds a place near the cage surrounding the arena where he can keep his back away from any adversaries. That accomplished, he'll resume a fighting stance and clobber any schmuck who tries to mess with him.

Initiative: 3
Attack: 53% HIT
Damage: 8
Save: 88% Fail

Rondo

Buck is throwing down on any goon in the area that wants to scrap:
Melee Attack: 76% (crap, missed that time)
Save: 63% (missed that too...damn, it's hard to "save" in EC!)

Coffee

Zarko takes up a position by the wall near enough to Creature to provide flank support.

I'll coordinate with Buck so that we can maximize our efficacy.

Plus, since these mooks seem to have a hate on about us, if I get any of them on the ground, I'm really not afraid to put the boot in. Just sayin', is all.

Initiative: 7
Attack: 40 (hit; barring any modifiers)
Damage: 1 (at least I'm consistent...)
Save: 94 (fail)

Max

Max
Zarko nudges Buck, nodding toward a clump of fighters shuffling nearby, deep in conversation with the Gibbon. The hang back for the moment, wary not just of the gore-spattered Creature but of the crossbow toting hobling cop strolling up.

When Hobson turns back toward the ramp the huddle of fighters breaks up and follows Creature and his boys to the wall. The Gibbon steps out ahead of the others and walks toward you, hands at his sides.

Mindful of your readiness to rumble, he stands a dozen feet away and bows. He addresses Creature in the accent of the Ape Sultanate, "Let us talk, O fearsome one."

wulfgar

"Talk,"

Creature says in reply. With his Frankenstein vocal cords -- reconstructed from multiple 'donors' -- it's hard to tell if he means the words as a question or a command. Either way, he stays alert, but seems willing to hear the rest of what the Ape has to say.

Max

Careful to keep his teeth covered, the Gibbon smiles and nods. He is tall and wiry, short of leg but long of arm, dressed in wide pantaloons and a purple turban.

"You do me honor by hearing my words and I thank you. I am Abdul gib'n Hylobat Nomascus, a prince of the east." He pauses, with just a hint of pomp. "You and your companions fight with valor and with wit, and your defeat of the goons is the talk of every tongue. I have but a humble proposal: when put to the test men of all species want either to lead or to be led."

He half turns, gesturing at the motley crew of warriors and wastrels nearby, "We would have you and your captains lead us."

Rondo

Buck slaps his own face in a moment of Curly Howard surprise.

wulfgar

"Ape...no..fight...Creature....Creature...no..fight..Ape...Ape..Creature..both..fight..others"

The mental fatigue of all this political wheeling and dealing shows in Creature's deeply furrowed brow. He seems pleased with the ape's offer though -- happy that he won't have to beat everybody in the arena, especially after seeing other groups 'team-up' earlier.

How many are there in the Ape Sultan's retinue?

Coffee

"Mercy sakes alive, looks like we got us a convoy!" Zarko shakes his head at the awe and wonder of it all.

Max

About a dozen fighters join you.

[How about this, Wulf, Coffee, Rondo, you guys gimme names for these yobs, and I'll figure out who they are. Maybe do a roll call later tonight. It's The Way of the Lazy JM]

wulfgar

Shifty McJumper
"One-Eye" Malone
Abdul Philimon III

Rondo

Wiggy Plop
Rokemsockem (boxing droid)
"Sugar Ray" Rocketblaster

Coffee

Schleppy the Tote-Golem
Harmon Brewster III
"Bob"

Max

It's mid-morning, cloudy and breezy. Every so often a free-for-all breaks out toward the center of the ring -- unaligned fighters roaming the pitch, kicking up trouble -- but things have been quiet otherwise. It gives you a chance to get to know your new allies:

• Abdul gib'n Hylobat Nomascus, The Gibbon, jungle princeling and wealthy adventurer.
• Abdul Philimon III, the Gibbon's valet and instructor-at-arms, an orang utan of formidable mien.
• "Bob," a fighter.
• Harmon Brewster, Esquire, snobbish hobling, really top drawer. Dressed in khakis and deck shoes.
• Keyyalaypkleeplo, the man-frog. Leeplo for short.
• Mad Muruzabal, a silent Amazon with matted hair and red eyes.
• "One-Eye" Malone, cigar chomping cyclopean stevedore.
• Rokem Sokem, prototype boxing droid gone rogue. A bundle of nerves.
• "Sugar Ray" Rocketblaster, preening pretty-boy, real stinging butterfly type. Talks it, but can he Walk it?
• Shifty McJumper, blue-skinned elf from the Mushroom Isles. Acrobatic.
• Schleppy the Tote-Golem, bag-headed homunculus with a pocket for everything.
• Triple Muscles Ragnar, dwarfish strongman. Top heavy.
• Wiggy Plop, clown on the lam from the Gnilgnir Munrab Circus.

Hobson & Quazarn Meet The Chief

Having found his companions no longer in need of rescuing Hobson heads back out of the arena...

Age of Fable

...I'm going to go back to my original plan of robbing the lockers. If I can't pick the locks I'll try to shoot them off with the crossbow.

Then I'll try and find Quazarn.

Max

[At the moment, Quazarn is still nearby -- just inside the ramp]

Age of Fable

[I thought he was running for the car? If not...]

"Oh, hi Quazarn. You wanna help me rob the lockers?"

Max

The conehead stares quizzically back at you. Not even a faint glimmer of recognition lights his eyes.

[Sorry, Doc, rolled "01" for Mistaken ID, and Quazarn has no danged idea who this hobling copper is...]

Age of Fable

"OK - imagine me with a cavalier's hat."

Dr Rotwang!

[WHOA! Sorry, guys -- 10/7 was my birthday, so that night was spent eating wings and watching Iron Man. The breakroom computer was borked at work, and on 10/8 I was out late doing stand-up comedy. Yes, I wore the tie.]

Quazarn eyes the hobling quizzically. "Rob? Lockers? Hold on, now," he blurts out, "WHAT?! Who are you?" He casts a glance back out into the arena and sees the battle groups forming. "Oh, wait, now -- who are they?!"

He shakes his pointy head and his gills flutter with exasperation. "I ought to be taking notes..."

Max

Hobson stands tapping his foot, waiting for the confused conehead to recognize him. Quazarn glances back and forth between hobling and arena in a state of morbid psychometric confusion -- no doubt exacerbated by a sudden daydream of open mic night in an off-license comedy club.

"There you are officer. And you've nailed the cheating warlock!" A strapping, mustachioed human in a tight black uniform strides toward you. His baritone voice rings musically from the tunnel walls. "I could just sing!"¹

[Still a fair ways away -- just passing through the turnstiles. Between you and him are the passageways leading off to the lounges, the narrow screening gate at the foot of the ramp leading into the arena, and a silently weeping camera-droid.

[Note also that these events take place several hours earlier in the day than the fighting going on in the arena, so we'll have to get real, um, creative if that's where you're running off to...]

Age of Fable

"The cheating warlock certainly...although, depending on your intended use of the term, I may not be nailing him. Indeed, I must remove him at once, to...oh dear...interrogate him in the locker room."

Max

"I like the sound of that! Let's slow down a bit though." The Chief continues strutting toward you. "I don't think I recognize you, officer. What precinct are you from?"

Age of Fable

"Well, keep it under your hat, but I'm actually on secondment from the Hobling Imperial Guards. Special arrangement, bit hush-hush. This fellow is accused of a series of major pie thefts."

I'll try and stand back a bit to minimise the danger of him noticing my uniform is fake.

Max

[Just to reiterate, he's still a fair bit off, though hustling toward you. You are nearer the lounges than he, for the moment (Not trying to be leading, just making sure my descriptions have given you a fair picture of the situation).]

Dr Rotwang!

Quazarn's wit is quick -- the speed of his thoughts is envied by even the Speed-Demons of Lambore Guinea! Thus --

-- he clutches his gut! "HAAAAAGHHHH!" he cries out, doubling over in a perfect mimicry of a man tortured! "AAAGH! THE SYMBIOTE! IT'S--"

He flops down upon Hobson. "Officer, you have to -- quickly, before it --"

Silently, Quazarn prays to Thooptia The Maladroit, Patron Goddess of the Quick-Witted, that Hobson is as clever as he.

Age of Fable

"Again with the symbiote?" I roll my eyes at the Chief, in a 'Symbiotes huh? Am I right?' kind of way, and make as if to leave.

Max

"Symbiote, is it? Terrible for my voice if it's catching..." He chews his mustache, then nods manfully, "Still and all, no way to get around it. The warlock has to be questioned. Got to get right to the bottom of the situation, eh officer? If worst comes to worst I'm sure I've got Symbiote Repellent in my office. Try to be prepared for whatever happens, you know."

Age of Fable

"Yes...indeed." I salute and take my leave.

Dr Rotwang!

Quazarn barks at the (legitimate) cop. "REPELLENT?! WELL GO GET IT, YOU FOOL!" He clutches his chest, his stomach, his throat. "GET ALL OF IT!"

[Command Roll: 92 FAIL]

Age of Fable

"Yes, that's right...just come on, we'll go get your repellent" I say to Quazarn in a 'humouring him' voice.

"He'll be right in a few minutes" I say to the Chief.

Max

"Hrm, now listen up and listen good, conehead. You're in no position to order anyone around, least of all me! I'm #1 around here, top of the food chain, and you are just another cheating little bottom-feeder."

Age of Fable
"Yes, that's right...just come on, we'll go get your repellent" I say to Quazarn in a 'humouring him' voice.

"He'll be right in a few minutes" I say to the Chief.

Mollified by Hobson's words the Chief nods, "Take charge, Officer. Get his back up against the wall and make 'im sing soprano! I'll go get that repellent and I'll be back before you can say 'inappropriate use of force!' "

[OOC:
Dr Rotwang!
Silently, Quazarn prays to Thooptia The Maladroit, Patron Goddess of the Quick-Witted, that Hobson is as clever as he.

[Guy down at Qwik-N-EZ Oil Change & Pantheon Tune-Ups: "So yer tellin' me yer patron a' Quick-Wits is Thoopcha th' Mal-adroit? See now, there's yer problem!"]

Max

Chief Tallbard turns smartly on his heel, and walks away, his black uniform hugging every inch of his--

Oh, sorry. Don't know what came over me. He walks away, anyway. Yeah. Now what?
-------------------
¹ The Chief's appearance and innuendo owe much to the following exchange:
Rondo "Get him Creech! Shove his elbow up his butt!"
Fable "It's all getting very Tom of Finland here at the arena..."

The Brawl: Goons Strewn Like Busted Balloons

Max

Catching his breath, Quazarn watches the chaos of goons gone wild in the arena -- off towards the far wall a goon is tripped up and wrestled to the ground by a half dozen brawlers. Another is gummed up with restraint foam from the towers. The dwarf wrangler still struggles to bring the goon squad back under control, abandoning his whip in favor of a shrill whistle.

At the heart of it all Quazarn's erstwhile companions defend Darryl and the other wounded fighters valiantly.

Coffee

Max
Zarko and the Gibbon watch Creature tumble overhead, booted by the goon. The frankenstein lands in the pile of bodies with a grunt. The goon rears up, waving its arms over its head in triumph. Now Creature is behind Zarko.

The other goon winces when it puts weight on its swollen toe. It looks dumbly back and forth between Buck and the goblin and slowly seems to realize the cause of its ouchie. Clenching its teeth it growls and flexes at the two of you.

[I'll need initiative rolls from Creature, Buck and Zarko. Let's try d10, +/- DEX modifier to ranged damage.]

Zarko sighs and turns to Buck.

"Rock and roll," he mutters. Then moves in to attack the goon.

Initiative: 4 + 4 = 8
Attack roll: 47 (my melee is 55, so that hits.)
Damage is a whopping 1.

Rondo

Initiative: 10 + 2=12 rolled
Attack: 11
Damage: (makeshift club) 2 + 2=4

wulfgar

Creature:
Initiative: 1
Attack: 03% HIT
Damage: 11
Saving Throw: 80% FAIL

Max

[Need Saving Throws for Buck and Zarko. Will try to update at lunch if time permits.]

Max

Showing a dim spark of brains the goons both lunge for Creature. Man, goblin and apes duck under their reaching arms and attack. The goblin and the Gibbon both miss, wary of the goons stomping feet, but Buck gets in another glancing blow with his club.

The goons converge on Creature, snarling and swinging their slab-like fists. Their charge is reckless, their attack overwhelming, their timing...disastrous. A sweeping backhand goes wild, and one goon pokes the other in the eye. The blinded goon clutches its face, mewling, and Zarko sees his opening. With a light kick to the back of its knees, the wary ape buckles the goon's legs.

And then Creature does something really, really violent*. The medics, accustomed though they are to bloodsport, cover their eyes. When they look again both of the goons lie sprawled and bleeding.

"Warg's piss," scowls one, throwing down his club. "We're gonna need a bigger stretcher."

[On account of your Critical Hit I ruled that any damage left over after dropping one goon would carry on to the other, and as it turned out this was enough to bring them both down. *Please feel free to fill in exactly what Creature did to accomplish this feat -- I'm dying to find out!

[What a crazy round this was: Critical Miss by one goon caused him to smack the other one. The blinded goon critically botched two saving throw rolls -- 00 on the die both times! -- which meant his 8 point attack on Creature was lost!]

wulfgar

Creature grabs both wrists of the first goon and pulls his arms out...and then off, as the thugs shoulders give way like a turkey's wishbone. Now armed with two..arms..Creature glowers at the remaining henchman. Dropping one arm to the ground, he grips the other like a lousiville slugger and cranks out a swing worthy of Babe Xorblat, Hall of Fame Hobling-Wookie Outfielder of the God City Thunderbolts. The bloody bludgeon connects with 2nd goons head and send it spinning almost 360 degrees. His neck snaps with a sickening crack. His head dangles by a shred of skin and a fountain of arterial red showers the arena.

Max

[Shoo-eee-howdy-shucks, wulfgar. That's horrible. Also awesome. Ironically both goons had made their Survival rolls and therefore remained unconscious but alive, only to be slain by narrative!]

Max

Hobson nods to Quazarn and strides into the arena with his crossbow leveled. The rest of his companions stand over two fallen goons. Elsewhere in the arena, goons lie unconscious or stand immobilized by blobs of spray-foam. Here and there across the pitch the Brawl has resumed in earnest, as fighters take advantage of the chaos to cull the weak.

Only one of the seven goons is still upright and unrestrained. As Hobson watches it sniffs the air and whuffles. Drool runs from the corner of its mouth. Ignoring the whistle blasts of the dwarf wrangler it trots toward the heap of wounded and semi-conscious fighters.

Buck and the others stand ready, but the goblin apothecaries stop them from attacking. The goon ignores them, instead seizing one of its fallen kin by the ankle and roughly dragging it away. It sits back on it haunches and begins to gnaw on the other goon's calf, tearing off a chunk of flesh. Before the cannibal can continue its meal it is sprayed down with foam.

The goblin medic squad jogs past Hobson, stretches in tow and smelling salts pump sprayers at the ready. The loudspeaker crackles: "THE DISQUALIFIED FIGHTER HAS LEFT THE FIELD AND WILL BE...wait, he left the field? Where the f%#@ is he?...AND WILL BE DETAINED FOR QUESTIONING. PLEASE CONTINUE BRAWLING."

Dr Rotwang!

Quazarn laughs! "Not today, Zurg!" He dashes valiantly back to the vehicle which bore him to this ill place.

[Where's Darryl, again?]

Max

[In the heap of battered fighters the gob medics are about to start evacuating from the arena. You could wait around for him if you wanted to chance it.]

Dr Rotwang!

Quazarn skids to a halt. "The kid," he mutters.

He heads back to the ramp...cautiously.

Coffee

Max
[Need Saving Throws for Buck and Zarko. Will try to update at lunch if time permits.]

D'oh! My saving throw is 47.

Sadly, I needed a 37, so I'm afraid something narrative this way comes...

Max

[Fortune was with you, and the (randomly targeted) goon attacks were aimed at Creature. You're in the clear, for now.]

[More generally, just to make your options clear, at the moment Buck, Zarko & Creature do not seem to be drawing any additional attention from the Brawl security . Whether you three fight on in the Brawl or not appears to be your choice...]

Rondo

Buck removes his hand from his eyes and grimaces, "Geesh pal! Wha...well, I bet they don't have the guts to mess with us again..." and he pats Creature on the back. He surveys the chaos around him for a moment, only to recall the kid. He goes over quickly to the medic to see what's going on, "Well, what's the story?" hoping that the attendants to Daryl got a good eye full of the grisly damage my monster pal threw down on the goons.

Age of Fable

I'll change my clothes to something nondescript, and ask the others what's going on.

Max

[Note that an obviously armed man on the pitch is likely to draw attention -- in or out of a police uniform.]

Age of Fable

...back to police then.

Max

OK, cool, can I get a percentile roll...?

Age of Fable

35

wulfgar

Creature growls and looks menacing, which shouldn't be too hard, seeing how he's covered in blood and holding a freshly severed arm in one hand. He maintains his watch over Darryl until he's evaced. If any of the brawlers engage him, he'll counter, but he's hoping for a few moments respite.

Rondo

Buck has no problem continuing in this 'brawl' as long as it appears that Daryl will be cared for with no b.s. involved. Money is riding on Creature, so it'd be nice to make some scratch to give to the kids mom. Maybe she won't kill us! ha

Max

The apothecary squad sets about their business, spraying groggy fighters with smelling salts and scooting them toward the ramp. The unconscious and lame are rolled onto stretchers.

Annoyed at the stink eye from Buck and Creature, the chief apothecary blusters, "You two: scatter! You did me a solid fighting off those goons. You got heart, and the big lummox is a real thunder-crapper. But I'll personally oversee your autopsies if you don't bugbear off."

He glares a moment, daring a cross word from anyone. After a moment he sighs, "Look, fellas, your lizard buddy will be fine in a day or two. We're carting him off now. Nothin' fancy, but three hots and a cot'll do him wonders. Now get your heads back in the Brawl and let us do our job. You're trouble, all of ya. Bad luck. Run off, before you bring the damn sky crashing in. Eh?"

He turns away to direct the medics. Zarko nudges Buck, nodding toward a clump of fighters shuffling nearby, deep in conversation with the Gibbon. They hang back for the moment, wary not just of the gore-spattered Creature but of the crossbow toting hobling cop strolling up. After a tiny jolt of nerves you recognize Hobson*.

[*That percentage I had Fable roll was Mistaken ID, but luckily enough for you guys he failed. Otherwise you'd've been all "Oh crap, it's the fuzz!" ;D]

Dr Rotwang!
Quazarn skids to a halt. "The kid," he mutters. He heads back to the ramp...cautiously.

Quazarn watches the goblin medics troop back and forth, and sighs with relief when he sees Darryl's stretcher go by. Do the lad's eyes flutter open for a second? Does he crack a weary smile, somehow wise and noble in defeat? Does he weakly raise his hand and give Quazarn a brave thumbs up?

Well, no, none of that. He's still out like three strikes. But his breath is slow and deep -- he's surely alive if not kicking.

Rondo

Buck asks Zarko, "You wanna stay in this thing, or should we split?"

Coffee

"Well..." Zarko thinks for a long moment.

"Common sense says we should split. But I dunno...it feels like I'm a part of something, for the first time in a long time.

"I think I'll hang out here with Creature until I get taken out."

He looks up, meeting Buck's eye.

"You can go, if you want to," he says, clearly not meaning a word of it. "I won't think any less of you."

Rondo

Buck grins from ear to ear, "...and I won't think any less of you for staying here with me!"...he gets back to back with Zarko as they await the next challengers.

Hobson Twofoot in Tears of a Cyaborg

Max

While Hobson tries to reason with the cyaborg she-camera he glances past her just in time to see Quazarn duck out of the arena. The warlock crouches down just inside the ramp, back to Hobson.

Age of Fable

I look at the cyaborg to see if there's any non-lethal way to 'jam its gears' or similar.

Max

The cyaborg female does not appear to be armed. Her skin-tight silver bodysuit leaves little to the imagination, and from what Hobson can tell she is fully human save for the x-ray camera mounted on her neck.

"My.lenses.are.up.here.Officer" buzzes the cyaborg indignantly.

Age of Fable

"I'm sorry Madam, I was merely confirming my initial identification. You're under arrest."

Max

"On.what.charge. My.memory.banks.record.no.violation.of.local.municipal.or.galactic.law."

proclaims the 'borg, the pitch of her voice rising. She sounds a bit flustered, inasmuch as her vocoding hardware permits it.

"I.have.never.commited.a.crime. To.do.so.would.violate.my.core.programming. Please.what.have.i.done.officer."

Age of Fable

"I'm sure it's a mistake, but a lady matching your description is wanted for illegal hosting of a reality show. I'm afraid I'm going to have to detain you, most likely handcuffing you somewhere where you can't see the entrance to the arena. And confiscate any film or recording you might be making."

Max

"No.officer.please. You.must.be.thinking.of.my.sister.Katy.Kodachrome. I.have.not.spoken.to.her.in.months. Please.officer."

Holding up her hands imploringly the 'borg projects a series of sympathetic holographic images: sad-eyed kittens; robed priests of the Truth or Dare cult; a school transcript showing her perfect attendance record and highest marks in Civics; a flashing sign reading 'Not Guilty.'

Age of Fable

"Hmm...that flashing sign was certainly very convincing. Yet I must do my duty. I tell you what. If you erase any recording you've made in the last 24 hours, and undertake not to record anything else for the next 24 hours, and let me continue my investigation in the arena, I'll see if I can get permission to just give you a verbal warning rather than arrest you."

Max

The cyaborg nods, leaking a bit of emulsion fluid.

"I.am.certain.this.is.all.a.mistake.officer. Thank.you"

The cyaborg pops open a panel on...let's call it her forehead. She punches a quick sequence on a touchpad and shudders once. She tears off a small printout from the back of her head and hands it to Hobson.

Reel 3494.0833-0833A: ERASED. Disc Backup: DELETED

She steps back from the gate, allowing the hobling through to the ramp.

Age of Fable

I greet Quazarn, then enter the arena, menacing anyone who comes close with my crossbow, looking for the others.

The Brawl: Send in the Goons

rondo

Buck shouts to the orderly, "These idiots are starting to bug me..I'm losing patience with this entire situation...I'll take you at your word; you help my young friend..keep him alive...and I'm getting ready to take this bunch to the cleaners, if I can.", he stands up, fists at his side and gritting his teeth.

"Creature!", he points at the approaching goonsquad. "These men...bad! They want to hurt Buck and Daryl!"

(I'm gonna look over the medics, the ground, anything....since we were sent in here practically naked, I'm looking for SOMETHING that will even the odds a bit...a club of some sort would be ideal, but I'll use anything)

Clue: 27%
Rolled: 89% (sh*t!)

Explore: 50%
Rolled: 16%

(throwin' my chances here...not sure what counts, if anything)

Max

The goons charge forward, shoulders stooped and long arms swinging. Buck instinctively notes the locations of the two nearest retreat chutes, but hasn't a guess what he might use as a weapon.

The goblin medic is luckier, happening on a mop handle that must have dropped out of the wrecked medevac crane. He breaks it over his knee and hands half to Buck. Creature stands grimly at Buck's side, and Zarko lurks nearby, as tight-lipped as ever. The Gibbon and a few other fighters step up to help defend the fallen...

[Now armed with a simple club, D 1-4]

Rondo

Buck takes a whack at the first stupid bastard that comes across his path.
Melee Att: 64%
Rolled: 64% (wheew!)
Damage Rolled: 4...+2 (6 total)

wulfgar

Creature looks slightly confused and wonders what we're doing.

Rondo

(I don't know what to do either, but I'm not getting manhandled by a buncha goons coming out of chutes!)

wulfgar

[I thought the goons were after Qurazan? Are they coming for us too? If Darryl's being taken care, and pointy head is leaving (or being escorted off) the premises, aren't the rest of us good to get back to brawling?]

Creature will defend himself against anyone who attacks him, and will do so with extreme prejudice, but he won't start anything with the goons if they look to be under control and just trying to take Quarzan out of here.

Rondo

[My understanding was that there was a heap o' enforcers coming towards us. If this is not accurate, then I do not commit to actions, but that's what I understood.]

Max

Previously...
A commotion from the center of the arena interrupts the apothecary. "Of all the...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."
.....
The goons sniff the air as they enter the arena, catching the sweat of battle. Despite the shouted commands of the dwarven wrangler, they begin stamping and shoving. Three goons charge off into the arena, swinging their fists wildly as they go. Two others nearly trample Quazarn on their way to the heap of unconscious fighters. [emphasis added]

[Basically, Chief Tallbard chose cut rate security and a incompetent goon trainer. Perhaps a strongly worded letter of complaint is in order?]

wulfgar

Ok. Creature stands nearby Darryl as the medics tend to him. If the goons try to lay a finger on Darryl, Creature will break that finger off. If they want to beat on the other losers, they can have at it as far as Creature is concerned.

Max

[They's coming, best roll your Attack, Damage & Save. Need a Saving Throw from Buck.

[What's Zarko up to?]

Coffee

Hanging out with Creature. If anyone gets behind him, they'll have to face me.

Darryl's out cold, so he's done his bit. Me, I'm protecting my investment.

Rondo

Saving Throw:21%
Rolled: 27% (missed just barely)

wulfgar

For Creature:
Attack: 66% Hit
Damage: 11
Saving Throw: 90% Fail

If the goons attack, Creature will smash the head of the closest one between his two monster hands- like a monkey banging a pair of cymbals.

Rondo

(I was wondering the same thing. I'm at least "Clued in" as to some decent escape areas, but we gotta get outta this thing....there's an endless stream of backup support and only a few of us).

Max

The goons stomp forward. Buck thwacks one in the shin, slowing it just enough for the goblin medic to smash its big toe. The goon grabs its foot and stands one leg wailing in pain. It stinks like livestock rolled in...potpourri?¹

The other goon bends low as it charges, and Creature wallops it up both sides of its head, smashing its ears. It staggers back, stunned.

[Both goons rolled Critical Failures on saving throws -- which I've decided means you lose your next attack! Truly the PCs are blessed by fate.]

wulfgar

Creature tries to grab one of the stunned goons and hurl him into the rest of the approaching horde.
Attack: 68% HIT
Damage: 11
Feat: 92% Succesful for a Lesser feat (rated 100%), fails for greater feat (rated 31%)
Saving Throw: 23% GOOD

"BAD MEN NO HURT DARRYL!!!!" He roars

Max

Creature grabs the reeling goon by the ankle, trying to topple it backward, but it shakes its head and kicks out its leg. His shield takes the brunt of the impact, but the kick sends Creature sailing back into the heap of bodies.

[1 HP damage]

[And with that I really gotta go find a grindstone and put my nose to it. Workity-work. Update late tonight, but I'll be around over the weekend.]

rondo

Buck is trying to get a glimpse at what's going on with Daryl. Has he come around? or is the situation bad enough that he's still out cold?

Max

Zarko and the Gibbon watch Creature tumble overhead, booted by the goon. The frankenstein lands in the pile of bodies with a grunt. The goon rears up, waving its arms over its head in triumph. Now Creature is behind Zarko.

The other goon winces when it puts weight on its swollen toe. It looks dumbly back and forth between Buck and the goblin and slowly seems to realize the cause of its ouchie. Clenching its teeth it growls and flexes at the two of you.

[I'll need initiative rolls from Creature, Buck and Zarko. Let's try d10, +/- DEX modifier to ranged damage.]
--------------------------
¹ Per Rondo's write-up of the goon, there's a "35% possible mutation from the mutation charts," in this case Narcotic Odor

The Brawl: A Cone Alone

Max

Dr Rotwang!
[Quazarn] 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.

wulfgar
Creature waves goodbye to Quazarn. "Bye...bye...pointy..head"

Quazarn hotfoots it for the tunnel, pursued by whatever the hell a disenchanter is. The circle of gawking fighters parts for him -- puzzling given his invisibility -- and he's almost to the tunnel when the first goon clomps up the ramp.

Then the second and third.
And the fourth.
And fifth.
Sixth, and surely last?
Only if you don't count the seventh.

The goons sniff the air as they enter the arena, catching the sweat of battle. Despite the shouted commands of the dwarven wrangler, they begin stamping and shoving. Three goons charge off into the arena, swinging their fists wildly as they go. Two others nearly trample Quazarn on their way to the heap of unconscious fighters.

But two still remain, standing between the warlock and the tunnel. Implausibly enough, one of them seems to be staring right at him.

Dr Rotwang!

[I must consider my next move very carefully and, as such, it may take me a couple-three hours. I'm at work.]

Dr Rotwang!

Quazarn, who is brilliant and handsome, doesn't miss a beat. "The enchanter!" he cries to the goons, gesturing imperiously back at a dude who is currently overjoyed with himself. "Get him, GET HIM!"

[Quazarn's Command skill is 83%; I rolled a 65.]

Max

The goons blink at Quazarn's stentorian voice and commanding mien, staring back and forth between the warlock and the other fighter. The goons huddle up, knock their heads together, and begin shoving. Their wrangler, red-faced and screaming, hops on one leg, pointing at Quazarn, but they ignore him. For the moment anyway.

The Dirty Deezen on the other hand, Quazarn's unwilling decoy, is now extremely focused on the warlock. His happy-go-lucky grin drops away, and a fell light shines in his eyes. He tugs a cauliflowered ear, points at Quazarn and makes a violent gesture the meaning of which is impossible to mistake.

Dr Rotwang! [Quazarn's Command skill is 83%; I rolled a 65.]

[NB. To truly command them you'd need to roll Monster Friend as well. Dunno how lucky you're feeling.]

Dr Rotwang!

Quazarn rolls his eyes at the goons and attempts to sneak past. [Sneak 29% is better than 4%, so I'll try that...wow, good thing, too!]

Once past the goons, Quazarn applies his astonishing mental energies towards formulating a plan. He just needs an idea to build on -- a spark for the fire, as it were...

[Max, can I roll Clue and get some sort of assist in building an escape plan for us all?]

Max

[You can always roll whatever you want. I'll let you know if what you're trying to do is bogus.]

Dr Rotwang!

[Clue 28%; I rolled at 47.]

Quazarn grasps his prodigiously-pointed crown in exasperation and focus. "think, think think think -- !"

...but no idea comes.

He peeks back out into the fray.

Max

Ignoring several lewd suggestions and low slanders from the Dirty Deezen Quazarn sneaks past the goons and wins free to the ramp. A dozen apothecary goblins huddle there with stretchers and spray cans of smelling salts, waiting for a break in the fighting.

Amidst all the bedlam Quazarn seems to have avoided all of his pursuers save one: peering out into the arena the warlock feels tingling sensation as something prods his shoulder. Looking back, he faces the disenchanter. The beast probes him with its wriggling trunk, poking the tip into each of his ears in turn. Disappointed by Quazarn's puny magical energy it bleats sadly and trots back to its pen.

Dr Rotwang!

Recovering from the sudden shock of being felt up by the disenchanter, Quazarn sneers after it, "Go tell your friends, you third-rate louse."

He quickly gets to the business of staying the hell out of harm's way and looking for a way to assist his teammates.

Hobson and Chester, and the Camera-Borg

Hobson has cowed a reluctant orcish orderly into taking him to the Brawl's Chief of Security, Chief Tallbard.

Max

Chet leads the way from the locker room glumly, hands still in the pockets of his shiny work slacks. He turns right toward the turnstiles, Hobson following. A sour, oafish reek stops you both cold. The stink is so powerful you could spread it on crackers and call it Limburger.

Chet nearly trips over Hobson as he backs away in the direction of the locker room. Lumbering down the tunnel comes a squad of huge one-eyed neanderthals, greasy-haired and grunting, followed by a whip-cracking dwarf in padded armor.

"Goons," whispers Chet. "Must be bad trouble out there, man. Gnuurgk. Screw this, I'm goin' on break. Chief's through the turnstiles and turn left twice."

Age of Fable

"Bad trouble? Good god man, give me your walkie-talkie at once."

Max

Chester looks at Hobson dubiously.

"Yeah, sure, trade you for your badge..."

[Roll Command if you want to keep trying to convince him.]

Age of Fable

"Shazbot! Fine, ring the Chief, tell him I'm going in to deal with the trouble."

As soon as Chester can't see me I'll change my clothes.

I'll also look for the others.

Max

[Back to your street clothes? (Speaking of which, I get kind of a pimpish vibe from Hobson's illustration, especially the hat -- am I reading too much into it?)]

"Yeah whatever, Officer. First thing after a ciggy." Chester drifts off, slouching at first but gathering enough speed that he hurdles the turnstile on his way toward the front.

Hobson scopes out the tunnel. To his left is the ramp leading into the arena. Just before the ramp two corridors lead off to the left and the right. Each leads to a dingy lounge: video gambling, food vendors, Brawl souvenirs...and holovids showing the calamity in the arena.

Age of Fable

I'll change into something that'll give me a bit of camouflage, if the clothes can do that.

Having done that, I'll try and get into the arena as unobtrusively as possible, and look for the others.

[and no, he's not meant to be a pimp]

Max

Hobson's holo clothes don't offer much by way of camo. He tries a cinder block pattern on but ends up looking like a game show host.

Pausing near the screening area he notices a squad of goblin medics gathered at the top of the ramp.

Age of Fable

I change back to police clothes, go back to the lockers, get my crossbow, bolts and cutlass, and enter the arena, where I try to 'arrest' the rest of the party.

Max

Now fully armed, Hobson approaches the screening gate. A weird duck-billed creature squats in a cage to one side. It shows no interest in the hobling. However a female cyaborg in a silver skinsuit stands between him and the arena. Human from the neck down -- superbly so, in fact -- she has an x-ray camera for a head.

Age of Fable

I hold up 'my' invitation.

Max

The x-ray camera scans Hobson from head to toe. "brawl.admission.is.closed." she buzzes. "no.law.enforcement.authorization.on.file. how.may. i.help.you.officer."

Age of Fable

"Oh...goodness...I, uh. Hm.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry.

"I was just surprised to see someone like yourself, well...working for a human."

Max

"your.mental.state.is.irrelevant. i.am.50.%.human. please.state.your.business."

Age of Fable

"No, sure..me too. OK, you know how there's a riot in the arena?"

Max

"affirmative. a.security.squad.has.been.dispatched. i.have.not.received.authorization.for.outside.reinforcements. if.you.are.here.on.police.business.please.display.your.credentials."