Ragnvald looks disappointed. "One? A shame. Let's be on with it then."
Nymeria wanders over to the Azurestone curiously.
Ooh, I've never see something like this! I wonder how it works...
Detect Magic
Spellcraft:
The muscular half-orc takes his leather jacket off and grins broadly
Wrestle or box? What about putting fingas in eyes an' kicks in'e balls?
--------------
In the meta-magic sight, the Vernal Key shines like a beacon. The artifact must possess immense powers of changing and alteration.
"Wrestle." Ragnvald says plainly. "Any dirty fighting will be returned in kind."
Jez walks up to the side of the ring. She calls out: Come on Ragnvald. Show him whose boss. Just don't tell him that the last man you fought has his head on a pike now.
Intimidate:
She then turns seeing Mobo standing nearby. You have any more of those? That grub looks good.
The orc grunts and nods, he ignoes Jez' comments and concentrates on the task ahead
Ye friends will need a stretcha for ye, hah!!
The southlander has meanwhile prepared the ring and shooed everyone out of it who does not belong there now.
Okay, no rules, only the ones you have agreed on - I see you're both ready - so: FIGHT!
Jez looks at the worm, brushes a little dirt off of it and gives Mobo a smile of thanks before popping it into her mouth an then turning back to see how the Ulfen does agains the southlander.
What are these rolls for? Your attack rolls should be better than +0 :) even if you'd want to try to deal lethal damage.
Once in the ring Ragnvald prepares to defend himself but speaks ever so quietly just low enough for the orc to hear.
"I hope you have prepared your body and mind and prayed to whatever gods you claim as patron. For whatever your friend believes I bear no tattoos." Grinning slightly Ragnvald throws his arms wide in a gesture to recieve the gift of the orc's violence his birthmark in plain and obvious view.
Standard: Intimidate
The crowd closes around the ring and the cheering stops for a moment, everyone awaits the orc's onrush.
But the orc hesitates, there's a flicker of doubt in his brutish face and he decides not to charge but to start with a rather cautious attack
The attack is far too weak to disturb Ragnvald and he fends off the orc's hands easily.
Attalas munches peanuts and watches on enthusiastically!
Ragnvald sticking to the "wrestling" portion of the wrestling match simply tries to knock the stout orc into the earth.
CMB to trip
Hooking his leg behind the orc's ankle, he is ready to fell him - you even hear some spectators shout Timbaaaaa!
With a grunt, the orc smashes to the ground
Ye think ye strong! I strongaa! he tries to get up and runs into your
To grapple prone opponent.
"It's not about strength, It is about will. Strength is only an extension of that will. Namely, the will of the Lord in Iron. Rejoice brother orc! Exalt in his divine presence and struggle with all your might!"
The orc is too surprised by your sheer power to do anything against your iron hold.
Uh, ah, oh!
the crowd cheers as soon as the detested cross-breed is buried under Ragnvald's mighty form.
Attalas looks to Mobo "If he was a proper Orc he mighta won", and with that sage wisdom he nods to himself most profoundly.
"The village it had a halforc
who liked to talk an talk
about how to fight
through all of the night
but was really just a cakewalk"
Grapple to PIN prone opponent.
Roaring in exultation the sweating Ragnvald is on the edge of laughing as he twists the stout orc into a pretzel.
"Where is the rage of your kin!?! Where is the pride!?! I've spilled the black blood of dozens of your kin upon the snow and each one spit and cursed even as they struggled up my blade to strangle me with their innards! FIGHT!"
Orcs from Belkzen used to trade with in the Worldwound. They seemed tougher than this pansy.
Ragnvald is unable to pin the orc, somewhere deep in him the ferocity of his father is brewing
You no win!
he growls and tries to heave the massive Ulfen off him
Grapple to pin!
Ragnvald laughs at the orcs feeble struggling his position on the ground being huge as Ragnvalds massive form bears down on him once again.
1...2...3
Ragnvald's second attempt to pin the orc is successful and as he presses the air from the orc's lungs, the crowd roars.
The Southlander puts on his best fake smile and shouts
Here is the proof, not all our fighters are invincible, this nice man has just shown us what a Gorum tattoo can do!
"It's not a tattoo." Ragnvald insists as he pulls the orc to his feet and approaches the southlander to collect his reward.
I wonder if they let little girls fight?
Jez will walk over to the southlander once he is done with Ragnvald and inquire.
"...and I thought an oger fighting them might start truble; if an Oger beats them then they got beaten by an Oger and there's no shame in that. You go beat them, there's only shame on them for being beaten by a girl. An Oger they understand, you they wont, and they get more scared and angry about it. They could well try kill you fer it afterwards Jez, I wouldn't do it." Attalas shakes his boulderlike head to discourage the deliberate provocation of the humans.
I don't care whether it is a tattoo or not... the southlander hisses and hands you a bag with coins. As his gaze then wanders over to Jez he grins And you cutie? Would you like an autograph?
Ragnvald suppresses laughter as he slaps the tiefling hard on the shoulder and walks away from the ring. Easy money being easy money after all.
Gathering his belongings and strapping his sword back on he says quietly. "Now this one will be entertaining."
Jez looks at the southlander.
I would prefer a competition of pure strength, but will box or wrestle if that is preferred.
You? the man's eyes grow wide, but realizing that you know Ragnvald, he quickly assumes that there is more to you than the eye is able to see.
Heh, you think you can ridicule us, huh? the man hisses and turns to the crowd
A fragile little girl now wants to take on our best fighter - Savrash the Unbeaten - winner of two-thousand life or death struggles in the arena of Katapesh. They will box, but please take a step back, since blood will flow and teeth will splinter!
He takes a step aside and out of the group of his fighters a tall, obscenely muscled man with strangely grey skin advances. Scars run all over his body and a white hangman's hood obscures his features.
The crowd has fallen silent instantly and all eyes are fixed on the champion of the travelling fighter-circus.
Jez looks at the large man: Savrash the Unbeaten. Not a very creative name. I am sure that I will not give him much of a fight, but the crowd should have fun.
She steps into the ring.
Also, will I be allowed to wear my armor?
Once in the ring:
Boy, you really are big. Bet it would be really embarrassing to get beaten by a little girl.
Intimidate:
I will begin the fight using Combat Expertise for +1 AC.
The spell is possible, but no one wears more than cloth inside the ring.
Savrash spreads his arms in an awkward manner and a deep moaning can be heard from underneath the hood. He seems not the slightest bit intimidated and waits for your first attack.
Jez looks around the ring.
Look at him, he won't even show his face. And what is that moaning all about, sounds like a sick cow.
I also ready an unarmed attack and begin to slowly circle the champion waiting for him to make the first move.
Attack-unarmed: <-- -1 for Combat Expertise
Damage:
AC: 16 (+5 Cha, +1 Combat Expertise)
Another moan and then an attack that is surprisingly slow and badly executed, easily you hit the hood and you even hear something cracking underneath it...
but still, his wild swing connects with your shoulder and it feels like you were hit by a steam hammer - something is wrong, more hits like that and you won't be just unconscious, this freak will kill you.
Jez looks at the creature with some concern and calls out.
Hey Attalas, you want to fight a zombie?
Jez withdraws from the creature and moves as far across the ring as she can, preferably out of the ring.
She then turns to the southlander: That creature obviously did not win all of its life and death struggles. It is not alive, and thus not the fight agreed upon.
The southlander grins and shrugs
And you are not just a little girl either, hah! We all have some aces hidden in our sleeves don't we. he then looks hard at Attalas I don't want any more bloodshed - a tie is a good result, isn't it?
The crowd seems unsure what to make of this, the mentioning of a zombie and the lumbering ogre are a bit too much for the inhabitants of a small remote village.
No, you cheated. I am just a girl. The fact that I have blood of others in me is no different than if I were a half-elf or half-orc. What you put in the ring is not human, or even humanoid. It is not even a giant. It is a monster. You have brought some type of undead monstrosity into this town. I do not think that agreeing to a tie when the other side clearly cheated is fair in any manner.
Jez looks at the crowd. Perhaps I am wrong, but in the time of celebrating the harvest and the good of nature, I do not believe that the folk of this town want practitioners of the necromantic arts killing visitors.
Jez then looks over at Attalas: I don't think you would have to worry about bloodshed with my big friend. After all, your zombie fighter does not have any blood.
It begins to murmur within the crowd and soon people nod and a voice shouts
Erastil hates the undead! Drive these freaks off!
the southlander glares at you, he realizes that a mob of angry villagers is not a nice thing to encounter and shouts
Pah! If you mossbacks don't want us here, we will leave, but you miss a great show!
As we are talking, I begin to don my armor and gather up my little falchion.
Ragnvald shrugs. "Gorum is indifferent to the undead. They continue the fight long after death takes thme. But, without passion, without fury, what is the purpose?"
Attalas looks quite content to enjoy his peanuts. "Told ya not to provoke em, just lucky you got a tie or it could be us with the villagers and pitchforks, gotta remember Jez, to them I is an Ogre and they understand Ogres, but to them you is a monster - you aren't a little girl coz you wearing armour and swingin swords and ain't natural... that's gonna scare em gud, which is good if we need to be scarin em."
"Looked like a tie to me" Attalas waves cheerfully.
"Reckons Mobo that sometimes we get ahead by not drawin more attention to ourselves than needsy be, and that when Ragnvaldy tenderizes people then the humies don't freak out, but if we do it, even in jest, all they see is a monster murderising a humie and that makes em scared and angry then its [i]'GRAB YER TORCHES AND PITCHFORKS ITS AN OGER!' and we dont get to eat at the tavern no more" Attalas waves his hands about illustrating the point, peanuts going everywhere.
"I reckon we need to learn how to juggle, Mobo, that could be fun!"
A small smile crosses RAgnvald's face. "My tribe had certain viewpoints on little girls swinging swords and wearing armor."
The southlander seems content with the ogre's point of view and tells his band to pack their things and load the wagons. The villagers still linger around the ring for a moment, but soon most of them return to the booze stands - seems like there won't be any more bloodshed today.
|
"Maybe you right. Once Mobo has clan again, then we scare humans with fire and you be my juggling enforcer and official consultan, whatever that is. For now we just see if they have more snacks!"
As Mobo stuffs peanuts into his boots for later, he thinks outloud as he scurries, "How humans get so tough? They not furry, no thick skin, have one or two babies at a time... who put them in charge?"
After the hubbub has ebbed away, Kosti drags through the departing crowd, he looks worried
Hey, grave news, the Red Raven hasn't turned up, that's strange...I will try to ask some villagers who might know about his whereabouts...I'll meet you again in the afternoon, keep your eyes open, I fear that something unpleasant might happen today.