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Talas studies the ropes and springs briefly from his dangerously elevated position, but decides an in-depth attempt to jam up the mechanisms is not something feasible under the circumstances. He tries to turn his forward wobble into a drop down into the actual 'corridor' made by the arches, having realized he's no safer here than down in there.
If possible on this turn, I'll get down, since it sounds like I'll be getting potential smacks from clubs regardless of if I'm balancing like a lucky show-off or not, haha. Will go roll the Acro check in thread.
Talas looks with concern down at Eythil in the drink. "Anything we can do to help him? Pull up the rope maybe?" He cranes his head back and studies the arches.
"Right, so, the lesson of that game with the ball was to try and think outside the box, right friends?" (Talas has actually given some thought to just trying to swim for the end of the course, but with Eythil's justifiable panic over the water it doesn't seem fesasible.) "So maybe we can break the 'rules' a little here as well. Garridan, cup hands and give me a boost, will you?" Talas tries to hoist himself atop the archways, preparing to attempt to leap between each and run along the top.
Glub, glub! Talas breaks the surface , hearing his name called. "I'm coming!" he gasps. "Missing me already?"
Talas squints down at the hole in the dimness of underwater, and tries to see if he can wedge the shirt into the hole.
GM:
Talas grits his teeth underwater as he notices the trap. And, of course, the rules of the blasted course have left him without any of his equipment for dealing with such things. Well, time to try and improvise. He still has his shirt, tied around his waist now after his earlier idea to try to use it as a rope. He sets to trying to wad it up to ease the orb off the indentation, sliding in the shirt after it to try and keep any pressure plates or the like depressed.
Talas squints down at the orb in the clear water, surprised to see a language he recognizes engraved into its surface. The tongue of the spirits of the Varisian woods... here in this city that's so far away from Varisia. Well, he's not complaining. Of course, knowing what it means doesn't mean it's safe... Talas kicks his legs a little bit as he stays on the bottom, thinking fast. Well, hopefully he won't turn into a block of ice. Nothing happened when he'd touched the other one, after all. Talas moves to snatch up the orb, and, then, barring any terrible thing happeing to him, starts swimming back to the surface, cutting diagonally through the water back towards the others.
Talas keeps kickin'! Swimming for the orb.
Talas tread water a bit and studied the course arching overhead, the curving path it took around, and the eventual finish line. "Whoever's last across, see if you can untie that rope once getting over it, maybe?" he called up. "Doing this without gear is like riding a wild horse without a saddle. A rope might make future obstacles easier. I'm going to try something... else."
Talas started an over-hand stroke in the general direction of the orb he'd noticed earlier in the center of the 'horseshoe.'
"Another of those orbs up ahead," Talas points out with a frown. "I may have to start learning magic..." He tries to make progress once more.
Focused on the new orb perhaps more than he should be, Talas goes on tiptoe and... loses his balance. "--for the love of Desna's starry tits--" is heard in a resigned tone of voice as Talas topples off the beam and down into the water again.
"...that was anticlimactic," Talas muses. With a shrug, he decides to put off further study of the orb until he's back on solid(er) ground, and attempts to start traversing the second half of the beam, hands splayed wide still, the orb held in the one because in this utilitarian uniform, he has few storage pouches.
He has to adjust to the new balance of the orb in hand... he makes no progress.
Talas gazes at the little orb, then up at the spectators, the judges, assessing their progress through the maze. He cups his hand around his mouth and shouts, with a grin: "I don't suppose any of you want to tell me what this does?"
"...well, nothing ventured, nothing gained," Talas says cheerfully. "Garridan, I might be about to get hit with a jolt of lightning. Please drag me out of the drink before I inhale some water if that happens." And Talas takes a breath and tries to pick up the orb.
Talas scratches at his head. "Well, can anyone look it over for magic? No?" If Eythil and Ariela can't look it over, he tries to make his way to the center of the beam to inspect it.
Talas has finally remembered how to balance, it seems-- the lanky half-elf holds both hands out and walks easily to the ball, then carefully crouches to examine it, since this one he can actually see up close.
"Hey, it's another of those balls. Before we step on the beam, does anyone have the ability to see if it's..." He trails off as Ariela takes off across the beam. "...magic." Talas winces slightly, and waits to see if the white ball does anything when Ariela displays her admittedly-impressive moves.
Wary now after the platforms, Talas scans for traps, though it might be too late to do anything for Ariela if this one is trapped.
Seeing Eythil finally seem to be getting his feet under him, Talas smiles encouragingly then starts up the wall himself.
...and doesn't embarrass himself further at least.
Talas frowns uncertainly. "Well... alright then," he says to Eythil. "Suppose I can't blame you, I haven't exactly shown I'm steady on my own feet either."
Talas watched worriedly as Eythil struggled. "Come on, man, you can manage this, he called, feeling useless. Eythil managed to haul himself out under his own power, and Talas gave an encouraging nod. He stepped partially back down the platform, reaching a lanky arm as far as he could, to help Eythil along. After a second's thought, Talas hauls off his own water-logged plain uniform shirt, rolling it up as an impromptu rope-- it won't reach far, but at least it's something to grab.
Talas swore as Eythil slipped into the drink again. "Hang on! I'll help you out!"
Talas gives a thumbs up at Garridan, mixed with a wry look of 'how did we get ourselves here' before turning back to Eythil and cupping his hands together. "One and two, aye? I'll give you a boost on this end and Garridan at the top-- no point if any of us lagging behind."
Talas's hands are not as secure as he thinks.
Seeing Eythil's made it back on, Talas gives him an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Don't try and imitate me again!" he jokes, before testingly moving forward, at a careful pace. Speed didn't serve him well before.
Talas winces sympathetically when Eythil falls in. He tries to edge forward to help the other man back out, crouching low on the precarious walkway, spreading his weight out as evenly as possible.
Talas climbs on carefully.
Talas prepares to try and swim for the strange thing he's noticed, then decides against it on second thought given the distance. He can possibly make a bit more progress on 'land' - shaky as that land may be - before needing to take to the drink again, he supposes. He treads water a few seconds, thinking, studying the chains and the platforms. GM:
Talas surfaces and spits out some water, grinning sheepishly up at his companions as he treads water. "The water's nice but I don't suggest coming in. Also, the floor's going to wobble beneath you like a drunken sailor-- the floats holding it up are meant to make it sort of like a see-saw. It's chained so it can't flip, but... Also each ten foot section is wobbly in its own right. I might be able to stabilize a corner for people to cross, but that's going to be slow as hell." Talas rakes his wet hair back from his face. "There's something under the water over here. Some white ball thing. I'll check it out."
Talas squints ahead, weighing his options. "Well, this is tricky, isn't it," he says, sounding more cheerful about it than anything else. "Wonder if it's keyed to multiple weights-- if more of us walking on it will make it sink further in? Only one real way to find out I suppose. I'm reasonably sure on my feet-- if I can make it to the end with the wall, I might be able to help steady the platform for everyone else-- at least, if anything over there is steadier to use than right here." Talas attempts to carefully push past Garridan and keep moving for the wall.
Talas's foot slips on just the wrong wet patch and he has a briefly comical look of 'o shit' before he windmills off and into the drink.
Talas grins at his friend, and calls back to the others: "Come on, the sooner we get through this course, the better, my friends!"
Round 1
Talas is caught off-guard by the short "GO!" but soon started sprinting towards the wall ahead, twisting his head to look over his shoulders at the others. "If we're doing this as a team-- we ought to stick together for each obstacle! Help each other over them! I'll get to the wall and check it for trouble, then hold my hands ready to boost others over the top!"
Brows arched for a moment, Talas sheds his pack and armor, and the little buckler he'd gotten to try out. Somewhat reluctantly he divests himself of boot daggers and other such items, then nods his readiness.
Talas listens, then laughs. "Fair enough. Fair enough. No rules but what we bring to it, hm... I'll keep that in mind."
Talas jogs back over to the starting area, rubbing at his jaw thoughtfully. "I don't know if it's criticism, but I don't have much of a sense of how to fight in a situation like this. Everything so open. When Vance got past me like he did-- the open ground helped him there. I'll have to keep practicing in these conditions. "So! What's next?"
"--damnation, he's fast," Talas calls out worriedly as Vance's speed comes into play. "Okaaaaaaay I think we have to shut that down!" He turned and sprinted for Vance, disregarding defense for speed.
I'm happy to post, but I was waiting for at least someone else first in the initiative before me to go first-- I know in PBP it's kind of catch-as-catch-can, but I figured that in the rough middle of the initiative order... and as I'm playing a class where positioning matters... I'd let someone else go first, etc.
"Good point," Talas called over his shoulder at Garridan when the other man pointed out what had happened last time he shot at Vance. "How about our other friend who's coming up, then?" He waved a hand at Eythil's approach down the center of the field. Talas ran thirty feet closer to Vance and again adopted a readied position with his blade in one hand, but the other ready to grip the hilt and swing with both. Readied attack on the first White team member to come adjacent to me:
Talas nodded his head at the approaching figure of Vance. "Garridan, can you give him a hello with your flying sticks of doom?" He ran thirty feet in the direction of Vance, still trying to get the hang of the buckler's foreign weight on his arm, and held his elven blade in a low, readied position at his side, obviously intending to take a swing at anyone who got close. Readied attack should a foe get within 5 feet:
Talas looked to his allies--at Garridan, who he knew from years of teamwork, and Ariela, who he know most recently from the jaw-bruising crack she'd given him. The teams seemed somewhat less than fair to him this go-around-- Ariela and Garridan were both formidable, after all-- but he supposed that too was a training exercise, because fairness was hardly assured when facing enemies. If the unfairness was currently benefiting him he wasn't going to complain. "I'd toss out a plan," he joked, "but my last one didn't do very good. Ariela, should we go tag-team Vance? Just focus on one at a time until everyone's down? Garridan to provide ranged backup if anyone slips past us? It worked well enough for your team last time." Unless Ariela objected, he dashed forward, unslinging his blade from his shoulder and trying to get used to the balance of the blade with the buckler on his arm.
Is Vance still with us?
Talas looks around at the gear with a thoughtful frown. "I'm not certain what more I can do for defense just with gear alone. I've not trained in how to fight with a shield, and most of this armor would probably slow me down...."
Talas picks up a small buckler that is perhaps light enough to not overly impede his swings. He supposes he can improvise. He also selects a shortbow and quiver of arrows.
Talas watched carefully when Eythil picked up the ball, but other than a momentary grimace and a few wobbly initial steps, nothing happened-- certainly nothing stopped Eythil running down the field and putting away the goal ball. Ruefully, Talas sat up when Darian called the conclusion, and limped his way over to Vance to give him a hand up, and Teral as well if it was needed. He gingerly stretched as he approached their instructors, rotating one shoulder. "The rope was intended to be a force multiplier," he said. "And, ultimately, used to tie one of the other team up. When I heard the description of the field, it seemed to me that simply knocking a foe out wasn't a good solution, because they could heal and get back up-- to really turn the tide in your team's favor, you would need to find a different way to take them 'out,' so to speak." Talas grins ruefully. "Turns out I was wrong about that. Hit someone hard enough and they're effectively out for long enough to make all the difference," he waves a hand at Vance, "--or they're flat on their back betting that standing up isn't going to do them any good. So there's more than one way to take someone out, really..." He gave Garridan a mild elbow in the ribs. "I learned it's a poor thing to go up against a strong ranged combatant on an open field with no cover. And that the lady here punches like a bear." A little nod at Ariela. "I could do with more training on open ground in general, I suppose. I've spent most of my life, and my fighting, in forests and hills and the odd ruin or two-- places where there's things to hide behind, climb, use for cover. My style's always been to strike, then try and disappear behind something, then strike again. It's worked for me until now, but as you say: my defense seems to need some work, so that I can adapt to other arenas. Or perhaps come up with a way to create my own cover." Talas coiled up his rope as he speaks, slinging it neatly over his shoulder. "I was half-expecting the ball to do something nastier, when it was picked up-- that's why I bided my time. I was hoping for a distraction, a moment I could use. So... I wagered, and lost, on that count. Waiting for your moment can be a risk, if the moment never happens."
Talas lifts his head off the ground enough to see Ariela flatten Teral as well. He cringes a bit, since the memory of her fist in his jaw is pretty fresh despite the slow healing of the field. But most of his attention is on Eythil, watching as the other man picks up his team's ball.
Yeah, that prone bonus goes away as soon as I stand, ha. Which is why Talas is continuing to take it easy until he sees something occur that convinces him it would be worth the risk of moving. He knows he'd have to weather at least three attacks from Garridan before he'd have a chance to swing in melee with him himself, and he knows from experience that Garridan hits hard; he's pretty sure getting himself boomeranged unconscious won't do his team any favors.
Talas feels a little more healing ooze into him, but he still feels as though a moose danced on his skull. He twists around on his belly enough to watch Ariela pummel Teral, wincing a little. It would be foolishness to stand up when he knows quite well Garridan will make good on his promise, however reluctantly. Instead, Talas slides a dagger free of its spot in his boot, but makes no hostile moves with it. At least he feels slightly better with a weapon in hand. He continues to watch, eyes narrowed; the battlefield has contained surprises so far courtesy of the people testing them. Maybe there'll be more of them. Maybe he'll have a moment in which the odds turn more his favor.
Talas offers a rueful toothache smile sidelong at Garridan. "Had to try," he croaks, but he remains prone on the ground for this instant.
Having heard Ariela's shouted orders to Garridan-- and knowing full well his friend's skill with his thrown weaponry, as the other man's accuracy had saved his life many a time-- Talas continued to lay still, running options through his mind. With the webs scorched away, there was nothing to use for cover, and he'd be an easy mark should he stand. He didn't even have many of his possessions with him to try and use as distractions, as he'd dropped his pack back on the other end of the field. Talas breathed shallow, feeling his wounds continue to close.
His face really hurt where Ariela had punched it, though. Hurt, and itched. Talas shifted minutely, unable to keep entirely still.
Talas listened with his brows slowly climbing. He'd never given particular thought to the gods beyond the generalized prayers that everyone in the caravan had thrown up to Desna-- supplications for safe travel, for luck on the road. He'd surely never thought of it as some sort of transaction of prayers, souls, and power. The gods were just... the gods. They were there, you prayed. Perhaps the truly devout did more than that, but... He shrugged a little, crossing his feet at the ankle. "You've devoted more thought to it than I have, master Prime. I tend, by and large, to worry about my own affairs, and not ask the gods for terribly much in any case. But is your Godstone, then, an entity so perfectly selfless that it has no need for the souls and prayers you claim the other gods collect like women collecting jewels?"
Talas laced his hands behind his head, absorbing all of this with a frown. "What does this Godstone mean to you?" he asked carefully.
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