From the hallway a familiar figure emerges. The lean figure with the patch over his eye spots Gryff and walks over.
"Ahh Gryfford was it? Good to see you, right this way." He puts a hand on his chest and bows slightly, then gestures down the hallway.
"I see that you brought friends. How many of you intend to compete?"
|Gryfford The Unrelenting|
I am here to offer support and tend wounds only. My friends have strange ways of earning coin
Adriel pats Chatterbeak and leans on his staff, a bit curious at the whole spectacle. Fighting as a form of entertainment was a foreign concept to the young elf.
The man smiles at Arasmes, "A careful man... I like that. The rules are simple you will be matched with an opponent. Each pair will fight until one triumphs." as if sensing the unease at the word triumph he continues," However we aren't so uncivilized as to ask for death. The top 2 will be rewarded with gold and a commendation from the King himself."
He looks to each of you...
ok do a single d20 roll, highest will be first and I'll pair you with an opponent.
|Gryfford The Unrelenting|
Adriel roll one as well please it'll determine a special part you have to play.
The man looks to Arasmes, " Very well my careful friend I think you'll go first. The others can stand over there and watch. " He points to a window in the hallway. You can see the vast coliseum through the mesh. The crowd has already filled the stands, and from your narrow vantage you can see a very fancy box at the top of the seating.
As Arasmes makes his way into the arena the crowd cheers loudly! A figure stands from the box and you see he is dressed in blue robes with a glittering crown. The crowd cheers again, and he motions for quiet.
" Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. I am proud to begin the 14th annual city tournament! Let us begin with our first competitors... Good Luck!"
The crowd looks intently and you see your competitor across the arena. He is a younger man with tan skin, dark hair, and a leather shield. He twirls a sword in his hand and brandishes it with a flourish. "This will be too easy." He smiles darkly. A loud gong sounds and the crowd yells.
ok roll your attack and then add flavor.
am assuming the Arena is big (>80ft), that we each moved in about 30ft at the start, and that it is bright light (dazzled)
Arasmes starts to walk forward, waving to the crowd, a cestus on one hand and a stake in the other. When his opponent comes within 10ft he flings the stake at his him.
5ft step, ready action: fling stake when opponent at 10ft. hit 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20 damage 1d4 ⇒ 3
Arasmes goes ghost-white from the pain as the sword cuts into his side, screeching into scales. There is a crack that Arasmes can only assume is his rib.
Desperately holding onto conciousness Arasmes steps backwards, draws another stake, holds up his hand and says, clearly, "Down."
5 ft step back, move action draw stake, standard action channel neg energy. 1d6 ⇒ 3. Will DC 14 to halve.
The man grabs his head as the negative energy pulses through him. "What in the hells man!" He looks up at where the king is sitting and then back at the gate through which he enters. No one moves to intervene. He glares down at Arasmes, then charges with his sword.
Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16
Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
AC 18 for the win!
Arasmes backs away, narrowly avoiding being spitted by the sword
5 ft step back
Too close to the crowd to channel now
With a flick the stake leaves his hand and plunges towards the swordsman's chest
attack 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18 damage 1d4 ⇒ 2
Dang... lucky he charged at you.. stupid -2 penalty to AC :P
The cestus catches him on his chin and sends him sprawling backwards. As his back hits the ground the crowd rises and begins to yell. The warrior stands up and you can see his lip is busted open and bleeding. He staggers momentarily then attempts to swing again at Arasmes.
Attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19
Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
And I'm down! Using the thing you said earlier about nonlethal.
Arasmes steps forwards to catch the swordsman's arm, then has a momentary flash of panic as he realises the swordsman has, for the first time, stepped back. Before he can move the sword hits home, swung with all the swordsman's weight and momentum behind it.
Arasmes blinks, and finds somehow he has moved several feet to his left, and had a little lie down.
Why am I lying down?
He blinks again, one eye faster than the other.
The crowd is roaring approval... what...
Arasmes starts to get up, and realised the sand is wet and red around him. The smell hits him like a bouquet of roses.
Sighing to himself Arasmes channels the dark into himself, feeling it fill up his body.
1d6 ⇒ 4
The dark makes the world stop spinning.
Coughing, and holding up a hand in surrender he rises to his feet, still channeling.
1d6 ⇒ 3
The dark cracks his rib back together, and binds it.
Standing tall and almost unharmed, Arasmes nods to his opponent and salutes in congratulations.
4th channel today!1d6 ⇒ 3
Unharmed and smiling, Arasmes prepares to head back to the others.
|Gryfford The Unrelenting|
Taltōsh nodded gravely to Arasmes.
"It looks as if I shall need it."
"Arasmes, you did well. If not for that lucky strike from your opponent, you would have won."
There is a momentary break as Taltōsh readies himself for the battle. The gate leading into the arena lifts open again. Taltōsh steps out and the crowd stands again, then seeing the cloaked figure they begin to whisper and look confused.
Across the arena another gate opens and into the arena strides a young woman with red hair and piercing eyes. On each hip rests a wicked looking scimitar. She smiles when she sees Taltōsh enter and raises her hands above her head and looks to the crowd!
Upon the king's motion she draws the sword and prepares for battle.
Good luck :)
Taltōsh adjusts his spear into a better position.
When the signal is given, the sage moved forward and thrust with the weapon.
Attack w/ Spear: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
His initial attack was poorly aimed, and the woman easily evaded his clumsy attack.
Well, that was quick. :P
Taltōsh attempted to avoid the attack, but it slashed him across the chest.
The sage, clearly unaccustomed to combat, collapsed.
Technically staggered at 0 hp, but you said 1 hp, so that's what he's at!
Looking up at the woman, he choked out, "Nghh! Th-thank you for the ex-experience."
Ouch... perhaps Taltōsh's specialty isn't martial combat...
The woman sheathes her blades and offers a hand to help Taltōsh off the ground. She smiles and bows as she twirls out of the arena again.
Over the next hour you see several combatants fight. There are a couple of orcs from a tribe out of town. They nearly cause a riot when one doesn't stop when his opponent is down. The king's guard rush into the coliseum tearing him away from his now bloodied victim.
Another combatant is some sort of tribal mystic who is adorned in leaves and the bones of small animals. He fights with a wild unarmed fighting style.
|Gryfford The Unrelenting|
"That's a good way to look at it !" Gryfford says cheerfully to the hooded man.
He catches Taltosh by the shoulder to support him, until the healers or Adriel take care of him.
"Well done, mate ! You did your best: she was a tough b*%#* that one - and swift, too !"
Some time later:
Gryfford looks through the portcullis gate at the arena.
"It looks like it's my turn."
He crouches and stands up again, shakes his legs, does some stretching exercices with his arms and his neck.
"I'm ready now" he says calmy. He takes a profound breath, exhales deeply and enters the arena while the portcullis is being opened.
He looks at the crowd seated on the stone rows all around the arena.
He unsheathes his falchion in one swift motion and raises it high to salute the crowd. His blade glints in the sun as he slowly turns around, facing the east, south, west and north cardinal points with a special emphasis.
He then slowly sheathes Sharpest and looks towards the gate from which his enemy will enter the arena, with a belligerent glare and his hands on his hips.
"Come forward, if you dare !" he shouts, his voice resounding across the fighting grounds and up in the rows circling the arena.
Initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11
As the injured Taltosh is bought back in Adriel lays his hand upon his ally
Cure light wounds1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Throught thd battles Adriel does what he can to aid his fellows
Healing 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Checking Weapons (Craft weapon) 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Even going so far as too seeing if he can come up with a stimulant from the various herbs he carries or perhaps an irritant to rub on thier weapons (Profession: Apothecary) 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
He looks to Asmares, Don't you wish healing as well?
And now for Gryff Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22
As Gryff stares at the gate it slowly swings open. A man with a leather breastplate, leather kilt, and thick leather boots strides out into the sunlight. His hair is greying and he has it pulled back into a ponytail behind his head. You see dozens of scars across his face, arms, and legs. He carries a single blade on his back, and you can see a dagger in his boot.
"Well, well, well... What do we have here?" He looks smugly at Gryff. I bet you don't remember me...do you boy?"His fingers trace a scar that runs down his chin and neck to near his collarbone. "Oh, but I remember you... FERAL child... Your father gave me this scar many years ago. And I had the pleasure of watching when Togs slit your old man's throat." He smiles cruelly at this and then spits in the dirt at his feet. "And I'm sure Togs will reward me for tying up a loose end in the son of that bastard!"
He draws the sword from his back and you can see that it is etched with strange black markings along the blade. He hefts it as if testing its weight, then motions for Gryfford to make the first move.
As soon as Taltōsh sees the strange blade, his stomach knots.
This could be bad, he thought.
He then cast a cantrip that allowed him to see magic.
Casting detect magic. Spellcraft (if necessary): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26
Adriel.witnesses the exchange.
Back up to the Grate. Ready a strike. Make him come to you.
Adriel moves up to the gate and clutches the bars.
Get him close enough and I'll put him to sleep....
Ready action to slumber the foe once he and Gryff are in melee together. They need to be within 30ft. Supernatural ability so no telltale signs.
Taltōsh leaned in, making sure Gryfford, Adriel and Arasmes could hear him, yet speaking quietly enough so that Gryfford's opponent couldn't.
"His armor is enhanced by magic."