"I have a lead, yes, but I'm not so foolish as to throw it out of hand when I gave my word to do the opposite. Do you have doubts in your brother's abilities?"
He's not trying to come of as brusque as it sounds, but perhaps a little machismo snuck into his voice.
"He seemed to know what he was doing."
He cleared his throat. "Nonetheless, I'm willing to grant you that information if you prove more capable than he. He gave me the impresson that you were to be a little girl, defenseless, which you clearly aren't. But are you strong enough to stand by him? That would be another question, and one he believes the answer to be no."
The burly and decidedly irritable man to whom Manny had sauntered did indeed take offense to the goblin's question. His eyes betray a dim wit, but he doesn't immediately sock the little annoyance. Instead, he groans in Ruul's direction.
"Yeah, yeah! I know! I'm going to be in one!"
The man, who looked to be in his late twenties and possessed of thick, matted black hair, shakes a fist directly in front of Manny's bagged nose.
"By the gods, let it be that this soft walnut will be joining me in the ring!"
"O-hoh! You've little to fear from me, man-bull-mountain, until then. I happen to like getting paid. More than slips, at any rate, and I haven't gotten a chance to flex my brawn since I left Egorian."
Egorian is in Chleliax.
And "slip" is like the n-word for halflings.
"I sense a bit of a cultural gap... and quite the intellectual chasm, here. If you happen to have a problem, I welcome you to request me in the ring. I've never broken the neck of anything thicker than a highland savage."
Now he's talking smack about Shoanti tribesmen.
Manny sees that Ruul and the man are now getting in each other's faces and thus his won't be getting punched so he hangs back and works the crowd.
See there? Rull is always up for a challenge! Be sure to come to the fight and see both put their money where their mouths are!
"What thing is that came out of the cemetery last year? I wasn't here yet" - Zeltor asks the dwarven child, after pondering for a long moment to actually understand what he was saying.
Why this- why be in easy reach and disappear? Is this some sort of test? Kaltro- you will have much to explain when I find you!
"Ventus." The man almost purrs. "Ventus Kalierro. And I do not doubt your audacity. We shall make a date of it, Ruul."
He heard Manny use Ruul's name, but he has no interest in learning Manny's.
Zeltor learns that an oozing, dripping zombie had shambled into the township one autumn evening and managed to kill a traveler before getting shot down. The zombie had borne a resemblance to a recently-hung bandit. The kids call said zombie "Viggi".
What are you doing today? If nothing else, you can spend it training, studying, dancing, crafting, etc.
"Don't sound so put out. It's his job to protect you." Forthan sighs, but he laces his fingers together.
"You need to get a reputation for your strength so much as I hear about it. To fend for yourself, more or less. More or less, I intend to judge you by reputation until you are well-known on the lips of the people or take something big down on your own. Don't rush to do the latter, though. The goal of having you prove yourself is to keep you out of death's shadow."
He stares into Sorval's eyes.
[b]"I need from you what the town needs from you. I need you to be a great help. Brawn or wit, your brother would need a capable assistant... or rescuer."
He laughs a little.
"Though if you killed a white dragon with your buddies I'd tell you where your brother was straight away. Regardless... if you need a job in the meantime, I can always use a bounty hunter to coax some outlaws from the wilderness."
Horfil spends his day cleaning the theater house. Then when night falls he goes to the ring.
Once Sorval is done with her errand she makes a few arrangements before the fights- mainly by stopping by the blacksmith and picking up a sap to bludgeon her foes with in the Arena... sets up a round midway through and then waits.
Thank you :D
Zeriax acknowledges the information from the bruised dwarf, then moves to speak with the other one, that seemed to be winning the fight - "I want to hear your explanation on all of this" - he states flatly.
Manny looks at all the stink eyes and mumbles as he slips into the shadows .Gotta work on my delivery.
The one who threw the first punch is sullen at first, and in no mood to divulge things to his teacher. This might have been due to a pattern of apathetic adults. The amount of jumping and twitching the dwarf is prone to indicates abuse... though whether at home, at the hands of his peers, or both, remains to be seen. Eventually, he speaks, and Zeltor learns that this boy had been isolated from his peers, travelling with his father, an arcane researcher until the man settled down to research magical happenings in these very mountains. The graveyard needed a keeper, too, so he had a day job to boot.
The problem was that somehow a zombie rose spontaneously from the grave whilst his father was busy, and while it was easily taken down, his peers think that his family is responsible. Or worse, that they're necromancer sleeper agents or something.
Horfil is overwhelmed by the sheer number of arachnids that have lodged themselves in the place. However, the drawven proprietor is more than grateful to have help. He takes a break from practicing for a play that will likely never happen to aid the newcomer.
"All sorts, I'm afraid. The goods made here are a attractive target for their kind. Right now, we've three bands, one of them having replaced the gang your brother dismantled. One is led by a firebug, another by a mute couple, and the third... well, they're simply a bunch of orcish exiles from further north, I think. As to where they're based, I've only the vaguest of ideas. Blundering around the mountainside and the roads might suffice to find a trace of them."
Zeltor enters the Three Ears just as Manny finishes making a fool of himself.
Sorval heads back to Errant-Wolf with her sap- and greets everyone.
So; everyone's here huh? Great, I'm in the mood for some action. When do the matches start?
Soon, I see you a re all set for a rumble, so let us not waste time. Manny will head out to the arena with the others.
As all are leaving for the arena, Zeltor is just arriving. He addresses Manny and Ruul - "What is going on? Where is everyone going?"
Ruul and Sorval's big day at the arena. Gunna to a punch up for cash and fame.
"Ah, so I guess you were a bit sheltered, then. Well, my young friend, a firebug is a word we use for serial arsonists, usually, or deranged pyromaniacs. In this case, I'm referring to an alchemist who loves his firebombs."
Seeing that movement is inevitable, the half-orc barmaid shoves some dry bread and salami into Zeltor's hands before he has to leave. A promise is a promise, and being fed is an integral part of being alive.
The party leaves for the stone ring en masse before the spectacle begins.
The proprietor of the ring (whose name I have admittedly forgotten and the internet is slow as hell, so I'm not checking right now) and his faithful servant Kaede are speaking to a ragtag group of 12 that you can assume to be your competition. Marduzi can be seen sitting a little ways off, stacking medicines on a flat-topped boulder.
The ring is a modest affair, and it looks like the spectators will be bringing their own seating, but lanterns have to be placed in every direction that you can think might be useful. Weeds in the ring are currently being cleared away by a gnomish child whilstling happily.
"And so, I urge you in the spirit of our sport to act in accordance with these basic guidelines, and not maim your opponents."
The ringmaster narrows his eyes at Ventus, who arrived just after the ragtag group of heroes. The chelaxian keeps a decent distance between himself and Ruul, but none the less cracks his knuckles.
"For those of you who do not know, these people are my new acquisitions. This is well, too, because I hadn't known that all of my fighters would be returning this season. We shall have quite the full house, I think. We even have a slight celebrity in out mix. Ventus Kalierro made a name for himself in the underground of Egorian under the pseudonym of the Pulvirant.. but he shall soon see that things are different here, I think."
Ruul, Sorval, you ready to beat some faces?
Manny hops onto a tall enough rock and gestures to Ventus and the ringmaster.
Since Ventus has been so eager to exclaim his prowess in the ring, I say we cut to the chase and see him square off against Ruul Spiritskin! This is his first time in this ring, but don't let that fool anyone, he is more than capable of making Ventus reconsider his bravado.
The neutral parties look on with vague expressions of surprise. Kaede knows enough to recognize Ruul's name and her head shoots up as she stares at the familiar duo.
The pitmaster purses his lips together, trying not to grin.
"That will require a little bit of reorganization on my part, but it can be done. Well, it will be, at tha'."
He looks down at his clipboard and starts scribbling.
"I think that should be our closing event, then. Which means that we will be starting tonight with... well...," the dwarf looks torn.
"Horfil and Skeiyer."
Skeiyer can't be more than seventeen years old. He has a childlike, nervous face almost completely covered by spectacles of a strength one would expect on an elderly man.
He smiles, afraid, at Horfil, and then lets out a cough.
...Though, for all this, it's hard to tell if the ringmaster fears for Horfil or the boy...
"Sorval, you will be facing Bree."
A dwarven maiden with pale blonde hair and a wicked scythe-shaped sap comes forward, grinning sweetly. She's small, for a dwarf, and her ears are suspiciously pointed, but by all other visual tells, she is completely stone-forged.
"Zeltor, I have you against King."
A middle-aged and ruddy-faced man of questionable hygeine and as much fat as muscle lets out a victory whoop. The ringmaster quirks an eyeball.
The rich dwarf then goes around giving the rest of the assignments. There's time to get recon on your opponent should you need it as people start to filter in.
Manny starts working the crowd to get the lowdown on the various fighters so he can pass along choice tidbits about their abilities., that nerdy guy could be a major fist-fighter.
Sorval tries looking unconcerned but any glance from a seasoned warrior could tell that she's brimming from eagerness. She gives a quick look to the Dwarven Maiden and acknowledges her with a nod before putting her attention back on the ringmaster...
Skeiyer has fought twice before, and both times he has had his ass handed to him as he tried to cast some spells. He's a wizard, but a terrible one. He seizes up in front of people. However, every now and then he surprises people with physical bursts of prowess... but he still loses.
Bree is creative. She's just as likely to use her "scythe" to grapple or trip as she is to pummel someone with it. In fact, she's never used the same sequence of moves twice, and sometimes loses due to this compulsion.
King is a well-known figure in the town in as much as he gets smashed every night and tries to start a brawl by one am. He prefers to use his left arm, and is a glutton for punishment. Not to mention he smells bad enough that crossing him places a psychological burden on the challenger.
Ventus is an unknown quantity, however.
[/spoiler]
King is a well-known figure in the town in as much as he gets smashed every night and tries to start a brawl by one am. He prefers to use his left arm, and is a glutton for punishment. Not to mention he smells bad enough that crossing him places a psychological burden on the challenger.
Manny scurries over to his group and tell them the info under the spoiler.
The crowd arrives bit by bit, and by the time it is time to start the first fight, the sky is a brilliant orange. There has to be close to three hundred spectators for this fight alone, and the air is full of good-natured gambling centered banter.
Skeiyer enters the ring fist, but only after having been assured that it's okay to start three times by Fulgrim.
All he has is a stick, really, and he is skinny and weak by all appearances. He chuckles a little at Horfil like a nervous tic.
Horfil walks into the ring. Noticing his opponent doesn't have armor he removes his own and takes off his shirt revealing his very elvish physique. And puts up his dukes.
"Lets put on a good show for the people betting on the match okay?"
I hope I know what I'm doing...
Horfil starts his Bardic Dance and takes a 5ft. step closer to his opponent.
Sorval watches as Horfil takes off his armor... Yeah... I don't think I'll be doing that part.
Lay em out Horfil! Wooo! Woo!
Zeltor stays in silence as the combat begins, nodding to himself, and registering Horfil's ability in "playing the game"
[spoiler=GM Screen] Hit [/b]
"Of course." comes the good-natured reponse to Horfil's declaration.
There's a bit of a rise in response to the armor removal, but it was more respoected as being a sportsmanlike action than anything else.
Skeiyer blinks owlishly and moves forward himself, moving his right hand.
"Um... Conge-Congelese!" He murmurs, slapping the dancing bard ineffectually.
The slap is the only ineffectual part. It seems that this time, he'd actually pulled together a useful spell.