They call it the Fool's Boon, Seamew's preeminent home for a certain kind of avarice and thrill seeking.
It has a reputation for drawing the worst of the worst from every festering mud puddle in the developed world.
The Boon earned it's infamy as a gambler's mecca... a place where any-one can wager any amount on anyth-ingat any time, so long as the stakes were reviewed, approved and adjudicated by the masked Warden of Chance and his dark-veiled "faceless" custodians who move about the warehouse-sized bazaar of betting, ensuring that every wager is on the up-and-up. Violators are routinely turned over to the mercenaries of The Claw who run the port town of Seamew.
Coins and bullion change hands over everything from the fate of nations to the amount of time it will take a stuck pig to bleed out. It's a place where titled nobles and lowly rat-catchers might stand elbow to elbow cheering on a man who wagered he could last a full 10 minutes in a crate full of rot grubs. Legends persist of fortunes being made and lost on a single bet in this temple of fickle fortunes. The chaotic desperation and fervor of the place is infectious and one always has to remain on guard that one doesn't get swept away by it.
It is also, unfortunately, the one of the few places in town where the Eladrin pugilist, Seig of Aurberie can still ply his talents as a pit-fighter after rumors of his otherworldly origins became increasingly commonplace in the standard bars, taverns and underground fighting rings.
And so, tonight, on the eve of the Feast of the Mother Moon, Seig and his wily scavenging kobold companion Talon have arrived hoping to exploit the swollen holiday crowd of visitors and hustle up some extra gold.
Stepping into the chaotic interior, the two companions weave through a crowd of barkers and con artists searching favorite promoter, Gleb Korthrind - a tall, well built man with a frail dead arm and a countenance so twisted you'd swear he had orc blood. Gleb grins widely and hideously when he sees Sieg. He knows the Eladrin means money.
The pattern is the same every time the slender fighter steps into the ring. Gelb offers good odds to any comer who will face off against the relatively unremarkable-looking Sieg. When the first challenger fails, pride forces one of his companions to make a go at the Eladrin instead and so on and so on.
As Seig and Talon approach, Gleb eyes the kobold, laughing out loud. "Wot's he now? Yer mascot?" Then, suddenly a flash of inspiration strikes and his laughter falls away.
"Come t' think of it... This lil' bugger might be useful. We've got a kruthik free-for-all going at midnight. They're nasty little beasties we dragged from the caves up north.We usually just let 'em go at each other and let the rabble bet on which one'll be left standing... but maybe this time we can toss in your little lizard friend. We can take wagers on how long he lasts. Probly net... I'd say twenty, fifty gold.Folks, they love watchin' little things run scared... It's always a big money draw."
He says this to both Seig and Talon, as if it's the most reasonable plan in the world and he expects them to agree.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae(L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk -Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Talon looks mesmerized as he steps into the den of debauchery that is the Fool's Boon. Golden eyes dart around, taking in as much as he can, watching the various patrons of the bar move around and do...and do...and do whatever it is they're doing. Talon is still on the fence about what is happening.
"Whatwhat?" Talon says as he's called a mascot and then called...what was it again? Bugger? He listens intently as this fellow, Gleb, explains what a Kruthik is. "Wait what? What is running scared? Kruthik is running scared? Talon is running scared? Can I have my twenty five gold now hm?"
He looks at Sieg, unsure and confused, like the Eladrin will guide him through this mess.
Slouched back against the wall, the Eladrin methodically cocoons his wrists in rags so tattered and mottled with maroon stains it would require forensics to deduce they were once cotton bracers. In, out, in, over, through. Sieg’s head is hung low so as to avoid confrontational eye contact (for irascible patrons of the Fool’s Boon will stoop to pick up any glove) but upon hearing Gleb’s proposition, he sighs and steps in front of Talon, patting the kobold on the shoulder. These sort of suggestions were not so much intentional threats as …ruthless ‘unfilteredness’, he had come to understand, the sort of numbness-of-empathy which had probably developed like scar tissue over years of repeated exposure to all which is red in tooth and claw. This would be best handled by stroking the promoter’s ego, not going on the offensive. “A bold idea, Korthrind. I am convinced it would make a spectacle…” he begins, winking at Talon, “…but alas, this one is a good friend of mine.“
Gleb lifts the mound of bristly scar tissue that used to be his eyebrow.
"A'right then. Suit yerself. What sort of stakes are you fightin' with tonight? You lookin' for a garden variety knockout bout?" He asks... Then a wicked smile curls across his lips and his eyes begin to sparkle with blood lust and avarice. "Or, do you want to go for the big gold by brinin' blades into the ring and playin' fer keeps?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae(L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk -Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Talon almost yelps as Sieg lays a hand on his shoulder, and then starts to bounce around playfully as Sieg negotiates with Gleb. The bouncing stops when he hears the words black and blue or blades and blood. He looks unsure.
"More money means more shinies!" Talon says with a sort of nervous excitement. "But whatswhatis a uh...Kruthik? Uhm...blades? Fists? Sieg, whats we do?"
Talon tiptoes, looking toward the arena like some answer might be there...
Talon looks into the ring just in time to see a hulking shirtless fighter slice open his opponent's jugular with a large curved dagger. As the shower of crimson drenches the champion's face and chest he leans back and howls in bloodthirsty exaltation.
The assembled gamblers surrounding the ring roar out in a cacophonous blend of celebration and fury. As Talon's eyes flip between the gamblers, and the ring, he sees as a pair of men in heavy leather apron's drag the vanquished opponent out by his legs. Talon can't help but notice that the vanquished opponent still clings to life, clawing at the sand of the fighting pit in futile desperation as he bleeds out.
As he watches all of this, he overhears Gleb explaining to Seig, "Standard deal. Victor gets five percent of the ante. If I was to guess based on this crowd I'd say... That comes out to maybe fifteen, maybe twenty silver for a knockout fight... about ten gold for a death match. I got room fer both. So, wot's yer pleasure?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae(L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk -Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Talon, a Kobold who is traditionally red, almost crimson in color, pales, watching as blood spurts from the open jugular wound. Golden eyes nearly bug out of their sockets as he watches. His eyes shift, from the blood curdling cry of the man in the arena to Sieg.
The roaring of the crowd, either from anger or elation, echoes in Talon's ears.
Suddenly the little Kobold looks nervous, finding himself unable to blink while staring intently at Sieg who knows what he's doing.
Sieg winces at the sudden spatter of arterial spray, gingerly raising a hand to trace the contour of his own throat. Like a thief in the night comes death… he muses, exhaling softly. “Let’s stick to a good old slugfest tonight, shall we Gleb? And I meant to ask…”he adds, addressing Talon’s nervous expression with a reassuring grin, “about a dual duel. That is, me and my partner here fighting alongside one another.”
Gleb strokes his chin at the thought of that..."Dual duel, eh? Never done one'a them before in a knockout bout... and I'm not sure I have a team who'd do it..."
Suddenly his face lights up with an idea. "But.... If yer willin' to go two-on-one... I know one fighter who'll take just about any challenge.,." He inclines his head toward the blood soaked fighter in the ring who turns to the crowd in classic heel fashion, barking at them and beckoning the next challenger to step up.
As this goes on, Gleb explains the rules. "It'd be the two of you against ol' Fistmeat over there." Heading off your inquiry before you can make it, Gleb raises a hand. "He chose the name. Don't ask me about it, and it yer smart, you won't provoke him about it neither."
He continues. "Anyways. No blades. No shivs. Just bare knuckles and blunt weapons. Fight goes on until one side taps out or stops responding... You in?"
The figure in the ring leans over the ropes spitting blood at some of the audience members who recoil at the provocation.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae(L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk -Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
As you await Talon's answer, you both see Fistmeat squat down, scoop up a handful of bloody sand, stuff it in his mouth and proceed to... eat it. He coughs and spits a bit as it goes down, undercutting the fearsomeness of the display... but still, he manages to get the sand down.
After wiping the remanding grit from his face he stomps his foot, pounds his chest and howls again.
Some of the crowd cheer on the maniac's antics but most just respond with a combination of revulsion and bemusement.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae(L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk -Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Talon, who has never been confident of taking anyone ever, looks up at Sieg like he's just said the craziest thing he's ever heard in his life. His eyes roll from Sieg to watch Fistmeat eat a handful of dirt...
"Uhm..." Talon says. There is a second there where it seems like he'll say no. Where it seems like reason will get the better of him and he'll make a good decision for the first time in his life. Instead, Draconic lineage grips him by his reptilian gonads and he finds himself unable to say the reasonable thing, especially because he's afraid someone, Cliptip or, deities of dragonkind forbid!, Onifax, might find out he was a coward. Instead he looks at Sieg and musters his most confident answer.
As you two are having this discussion, you barely notice Gleb making hand signals to the ringmaster, indicating that he has the next challenger.
The moment he receives a return acknowledgement from the ring master, the burly promoter starts barking out an announcement that the, "Wind Walking Titan of the Ring, Seig of Aubrey and his faithful lizard companion will face the bloodsoaked goon pretending to the title of 'champion'!"
Gleb's introduction is pitch-perfect, but the crowd responds with more laughter than fear. "Titan? More like titmouse." Calls out one member of the audience to an uproar of laughter. Another voice calls out, "Forget the fight... You'd make more coin sellin' that scaled rat of yours to The Pursers." Another roar of laughter, but Gleb's voice cuts through it all.
"Quit flappin' yer tounge ye' knave and put yer money where your mouth is." Gleb barks. After a brief aside with one of the "Faceless" Custodians of Chance, odds are established. 2-to-1 in favor of Fistmeat. You can put down your own coin on the match if you'd like.
You're led to the ring where a collection of simple blunt weapons line a rack for you to choose from - a club, a light hammer, a mace, and a quarterstaff. You can pick any one of them to use in the bout if you'd like. Once you're ready, you can step into the ring (where we will play through the battle over Discord)
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae(L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk -Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Talon puffs up a bit as Sieg makes his statement about, more or less, impressing Onifax, and prepares to march confidently into the arena. As he steps in, however, someone shouts something about a lizard. Talon looks around for a second for a lizard, and then realizes that they're talking about him. Calling him a lizard.
"Lizard!?" Talon says, looking around sour. "My blood is of dragonkind! Lizard indeed!" He flinches away from the comment about the Purse Makers, though. It seems like this did more to get into his head than anything else. Then he leans close to Sieg and starts to whisper, eying the quarterstaff as a potential weapon.
The brute, confident in his raw strength, makes no effort to move toward the weapons, instead, he pounds his fists together and roars at you both... flecks of saliva mixed with sand and blood spray in your direction.
Sieg flinches at Fistmeat’s spittle, raising an unimpressed eyebrow as he lays down an additional 2 Gold bet on his own victory. “Now now, big boy." He says to Fistmeat. "Use your words!”
Enraged by Sieg's words, Fistmeat lets out another bellow, losing just enough focus to allow the challengers the pair of chance to gain the initiative.
ROUND 1.
Even as their hulking adversary roars, Sieg can’t hold back a slight smile. The adrenaline, the bell, the salty effluvium of sweat, blood and tears… this is what he lives for. He cracks his dainty knuckles.
Glancing at Talon, he mutters “Let’s do this…” under his baited breath before initiating the plan the two had hastily concocted. His Eladrin irises flicker with golden light as a warm breeze whips into the arena, softly engulfing him. To anyone with their eyes not firmly fixed on Seig, what happens next might seem a remarkable, well-timed jump, but this is not the case at all. In fact, the Eladrin phases through one rift in reality and exits through another - several feet above Fistmeat’s head - descending in a well-placed kick that lands squarely across the brute's skull, catching him completely by surprise...
Sieg stumbles a bit on the landing but manages to keep his balance enough to stay upright...
The little Kobold, meanwhile, bounces frantically, amping himself up as he runs across the arena floor toward the hulking pitfighter he and Sieg have been placed against. Understanding that he has 0 chance of hurting this gut himself, instead he leaps toward Fistmeat's face while screaming, trying to keep him blind while giving Sieg the upper hand...
He keeps up his battle cry as he sails past Fistmeat's face...
The experienced pit fighter, still struggling to orient himself following Seig's disappearing/reappearing kick-in-the-face act, doesn't even notice Talon launch his leaping attack. Nor does he express any awareness when the little kobold flies past his head, missing completely and landing awkwardly on the other side.
He does, however, jolt into attention when he hears Talon's draconic cry... Alarmed by the sudden screeching sound, he stutters for a moment, then attempts to use the first of his two attacks to grab hold of the kobold, but Talon slips free of Fistmeat's sloppy attempt to grab him and hits the floor.
The furious brute throws another fist in Talon's direction, but in his haste he misses by a wide margin.
ROUND 2.
Jabbering like some sort of feral lizard, and with very little idea what to do to help Sieg, Talon pivots on his feet and lunges again, this time trying to grab one of Fistmeat's legs and reduce his mobility... But Fistmeat easily shakes Talon off his leg like he was an oversexed terrier.
As Talon bellows his draconic battle cry, Sieg feels a surge of confidence. Fistmeat’s attempt to shrug off the Kobold has left a certain soft target quite vulnerable to the age-old, tried-and-true trick: a good, hard kick to the groin.
Fistmeat's eyes bulge out like a Looney Tunes cartoon as Sieg's kick lands true. In an immediate response, he takes two wild swings at the eladrin, forgetting, in that moment that Talon even exists...
The first hit lands...but the second fist only catches air... though the blow manages to shower Sieg with a few speck of sweat and blood. Sieg tenses up to shrug off Fistmeat’s hook, but the brute still sends him staggering.
ROUND 3
Talon starts to panic. He's never been in a fight before (save for, perhaps, with other Kobolds) and this is getting downright out of his league. He immediately regrets not grabbing that stick thing he saw before walking into the arena but Sieg made this seem so easy... He knows his hand-to-hand game is too weak to be of any use in this situation, so he continues trying to help Sieg in any way he can. He tries one more time to scramble up Fistmeat's body and latch onto his face to blind him, all the while 'roaring' like his life depends on it... Because it might...
As the stars in Sieg's vision, subside, he sees Talon ferally gripping onto his adversary’s back like a climber scaling the side of a mountain. No time to think… another strike, this time aiming for the gut.
The blow hits him solidly in the gut, causing him to double over in pain... He's looking very unstable as he uses his full action in an attempt to pull Talon off of his face...
He succeeds in peeling Talon off his face tossing the kobold to the ground, but scratch marks remain. He's blinking and wobbling now disoriented from Talon's attack and winded from the blow to the gut. Looks like a strong wind could blow him over.
ROUND 4
In a moment of lightheadedness, Sieg gets an uncanny sense of eyes boring into him. He become aware of a figure in the audience watching the bout with calm, keen interest...
Sieg’s eyes chance upon the stranger’s. For a heartbeat, the sounds of the stadium fade away and the world around blurs, and the only thought which permeates the Eladrin’s mind is who...
But, then, his attention refocuses just in time to duck under another of Fistmeat’s blows. He attacks, this one a knee-buster.
The attack lands... Hard... The brute's legs go out from under him and he slams to the ground, his head hitting the sandy pit with an audible Thump. He starts to try to push himself back up, but wavers and collapses. The crowd goes wild as you claim Sieg and Talon claim their victory.
END OF COMBAT
Talon scrambles away from the collapsed fighter, huffing and looking around wild eyed as he tries to take in what's happening. Then everyone is screaming and shouting and takes a moment to take it all in before grinning in his lizardy-way and raising his fists over his head like he'd actually done something...
"We live!"He shouts to Sieg like he can't believe it. "We alive we alivealivealivealive!"
Sieg beams, betraying a freshly broken tooth in the upper left corner of his mouth. "We sure are, pal. You were amazing."
"Talon was AMAZING!"The little Kobold says, dancing and celebrating. "Sieg was more AMAZINGER! He was like...!" He mimes his impression of Sieg, dancing around and throwing punches at the air...
The reaction from the crowd is mixed as usual with various drunken insults being thrown at both sides of the battle. Nevertheless, the heart of the crowd seems to be on the side of the lithe eladrin and his feisty kobold companion.
Gleb approaches with your payment and winnings (4 Gold Pieces Total) and asks if you'd be willing to go for another match now that you've gotten the crowd's attention.
On the word "attention" Sieg turns and notices the bald man standing a few yards away, flanked by a pair of bodyguards. He appears to be waiting for an opportune time to speak with the two champions. However, the bald man's attention is suddenly pulled away by a young squire who rushes into the building with an urgent message...
As Sieg watches this all unfold, his attention is quickly brought back to the here-and-now when he hears Gleb shout, "Well, Sieg? What'll it be?"
Talon:
You were still paying attention when Gleb was speaking, but you might not have understood much of it. The promoter offered to double your cut if you went in for a death match next. Twenty gold if you survive, plus whatever winnings you make from wagering on the bout.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae(L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk -Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
"Erhm" begins Sieg, following a drawn-out pause - but his attention is engaged elsewhere. Something about this bald stranger inspires goosebumps. "I need a moment to think that one over. Will you excuse me..."the Eladrin mumbles, already pushing his way through the crowd, discreetly as possible, in the direction the squire has led the object of his fascination. His intention is to eavesdrop on the two's conversation.
Talon stands there, perplexed at what is happening, not having paid nearly enough attention to Gleb before Sieg steps off. He watches the Eladrin go, strokes the spikes on his head, and then repeats Sieg's line.
"Willyouexcuseme." He says, then takes off after his friend.
Sieg and Talon move through the crowd to get within earshot of the bald man. As they do so, Sieg catches the tail end of the squire's message...
"...extinguished the fire, sir. However, we think they might have drowned in their attempt to esc--"
The bald man's eyes flick up, noticing Sieg and Talon's approach... As he does so, he lifts a finger to silence the squire, terminating the conversation by calling out to the pair. "Hail! Champions of the pit. You fought a noble bout... Such unorthodox techniques... It was an honor to witness to it."
As he says this, the bald man silently directs his bodyguards to deal with the page's message before turning his full attention back to the eladrin and the kobold. "Please, let us celebrate your victory with a round of drinks bought from my winnings. It's the very least I can do."
One of the bodyguards splits off, taking the squire by the arm and leading him away. The other remains by the bald man's side, watching you all carefully. They are all dressed in vestments similar to what you might find on clerics... However, the emblem on the vestments (below) doesn't relate to any deity that you're aware of.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae(L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk -Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Sieg's eyes narrow a hair. Such ready gestures of hospitality are too often, in his experience, snakes in the grass. Nonetheless, already won over by his own curiosity, he glances down at Talon. "What do you think, pal? The Feast of the Mother Moon doesn't happen every day..."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Ambiance
They call it the Fool's Boon, Seamew's preeminent home for a certain kind of avarice and thrill seeking.
It has a reputation for drawing the worst of the worst from every festering mud puddle in the developed world.
The Boon earned it's infamy as a gambler's mecca... a place where any-one can wager any amount on anyth-ing at any time, so long as the stakes were reviewed, approved and adjudicated by the masked Warden of Chance and his dark-veiled "faceless" custodians who move about the warehouse-sized bazaar of betting, ensuring that every wager is on the up-and-up. Violators are routinely turned over to the mercenaries of The Claw who run the port town of Seamew.
Coins and bullion change hands over everything from the fate of nations to the amount of time it will take a stuck pig to bleed out. It's a place where titled nobles and lowly rat-catchers might stand elbow to elbow cheering on a man who wagered he could last a full 10 minutes in a crate full of rot grubs. Legends persist of fortunes being made and lost on a single bet in this temple of fickle fortunes. The chaotic desperation and fervor of the place is infectious and one always has to remain on guard that one doesn't get swept away by it.
It is also, unfortunately, the one of the few places in town where the Eladrin pugilist, Seig of Aurberie can still ply his talents as a pit-fighter after rumors of his otherworldly origins became increasingly commonplace in the standard bars, taverns and underground fighting rings.
And so, tonight, on the eve of the Feast of the Mother Moon, Seig and his wily scavenging kobold companion Talon have arrived hoping to exploit the swollen holiday crowd of visitors and hustle up some extra gold.
Stepping into the chaotic interior, the two companions weave through a crowd of barkers and con artists searching favorite promoter, Gleb Korthrind - a tall, well built man with a frail dead arm and a countenance so twisted you'd swear he had orc blood. Gleb grins widely and hideously when he sees Sieg. He knows the Eladrin means money.
The pattern is the same every time the slender fighter steps into the ring. Gelb offers good odds to any comer who will face off against the relatively unremarkable-looking Sieg. When the first challenger fails, pride forces one of his companions to make a go at the Eladrin instead and so on and so on.
As Seig and Talon approach, Gleb eyes the kobold, laughing out loud. "Wot's he now? Yer mascot?" Then, suddenly a flash of inspiration strikes and his laughter falls away.
"Come t' think of it... This lil' bugger might be useful. We've got a kruthik free-for-all going at midnight. They're nasty little beasties we dragged from the caves up north. We usually just let 'em go at each other and let the rabble bet on which one'll be left standing... but maybe this time we can toss in your little lizard friend. We can take wagers on how long he lasts. Probly net... I'd say twenty, fifty gold. Folks, they love watchin' little things run scared... It's always a big money draw."
He says this to both Seig and Talon, as if it's the most reasonable plan in the world and he expects them to agree.
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae (L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk - Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Talon looks mesmerized as he steps into the den of debauchery that is the Fool's Boon. Golden eyes dart around, taking in as much as he can, watching the various patrons of the bar move around and do...and do...and do whatever it is they're doing. Talon is still on the fence about what is happening.
"Whatwhat?" Talon says as he's called a mascot and then called...what was it again? Bugger? He listens intently as this fellow, Gleb, explains what a Kruthik is. "Wait what? What is running scared? Kruthik is running scared? Talon is running scared? Can I have my twenty five gold now hm?"
He looks at Sieg, unsure and confused, like the Eladrin will guide him through this mess.
"What's Kruthik?"
DM of AURYN: The Measure of Devotion - Escape from New York
DM of Legacy of NIMH
Slouched back against the wall, the Eladrin methodically cocoons his wrists in rags so tattered and mottled with maroon stains it would require forensics to deduce they were once cotton bracers. In, out, in, over, through. Sieg’s head is hung low so as to avoid confrontational eye contact (for irascible patrons of the Fool’s Boon will stoop to pick up any glove) but upon hearing Gleb’s proposition, he sighs and steps in front of Talon, patting the kobold on the shoulder. These sort of suggestions were not so much intentional threats as …ruthless ‘unfilteredness’, he had come to understand, the sort of numbness-of-empathy which had probably developed like scar tissue over years of repeated exposure to all which is red in tooth and claw. This would be best handled by stroking the promoter’s ego, not going on the offensive.
“A bold idea, Korthrind. I am convinced it would make a spectacle…” he begins, winking at Talon, “…but alas, this one is a good friend of mine.“
Gleb lifts the mound of bristly scar tissue that used to be his eyebrow.
"A'right then. Suit yerself. What sort of stakes are you fightin' with tonight? You lookin' for a garden variety knockout bout?" He asks... Then a wicked smile curls across his lips and his eyes begin to sparkle with blood lust and avarice. "Or, do you want to go for the big gold by brinin' blades into the ring and playin' fer keeps?"
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae (L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk - Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Sieg raises an eyebrow of his own, glancing down at Talon. “What do you think, old pal - black and blue or blades and blood?”
Talon almost yelps as Sieg lays a hand on his shoulder, and then starts to bounce around playfully as Sieg negotiates with Gleb. The bouncing stops when he hears the words black and blue or blades and blood. He looks unsure.
"More money means more shinies!" Talon says with a sort of nervous excitement. "But whatswhatis a uh...Kruthik? Uhm...blades? Fists? Sieg, whats we do?"
Talon tiptoes, looking toward the arena like some answer might be there...
Turn Summary
Perception Check: 13
Passive Perception: 11
DM of AURYN: The Measure of Devotion - Escape from New York
DM of Legacy of NIMH
Talon looks into the ring just in time to see a hulking shirtless fighter slice open his opponent's jugular with a large curved dagger. As the shower of crimson drenches the champion's face and chest he leans back and howls in bloodthirsty exaltation.
The assembled gamblers surrounding the ring roar out in a cacophonous blend of celebration and fury. As Talon's eyes flip between the gamblers, and the ring, he sees as a pair of men in heavy leather apron's drag the vanquished opponent out by his legs. Talon can't help but notice that the vanquished opponent still clings to life, clawing at the sand of the fighting pit in futile desperation as he bleeds out.
As he watches all of this, he overhears Gleb explaining to Seig, "Standard deal. Victor gets five percent of the ante. If I was to guess based on this crowd I'd say... That comes out to maybe fifteen, maybe twenty silver for a knockout fight... about ten gold for a death match. I got room fer both. So, wot's yer pleasure?"
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae (L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk - Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Talon, a Kobold who is traditionally red, almost crimson in color, pales, watching as blood spurts from the open jugular wound. Golden eyes nearly bug out of their sockets as he watches. His eyes shift, from the blood curdling cry of the man in the arena to Sieg.
The roaring of the crowd, either from anger or elation, echoes in Talon's ears.
Suddenly the little Kobold looks nervous, finding himself unable to blink while staring intently at Sieg who knows what he's doing.
He hopes...
DM of AURYN: The Measure of Devotion - Escape from New York
DM of Legacy of NIMH
Sieg winces at the sudden spatter of arterial spray, gingerly raising a hand to trace the contour of his own throat. Like a thief in the night comes death…
he muses, exhaling softly.“Let’s stick to a good old slugfest tonight, shall we Gleb? And I meant to ask…” he adds, addressing Talon’s nervous expression with a reassuring grin, “about a dual duel. That is, me and my partner here fighting alongside one another.”
Gleb strokes his chin at the thought of that..."Dual duel, eh? Never done one'a them before in a knockout bout... and I'm not sure I have a team who'd do it..."
Suddenly his face lights up with an idea. "But.... If yer willin' to go two-on-one... I know one fighter who'll take just about any challenge.,." He inclines his head toward the blood soaked fighter in the ring who turns to the crowd in classic heel fashion, barking at them and beckoning the next challenger to step up.
As this goes on, Gleb explains the rules. "It'd be the two of you against ol' Fistmeat over there." Heading off your inquiry before you can make it, Gleb raises a hand. "He chose the name. Don't ask me about it, and it yer smart, you won't provoke him about it neither."
He continues. "Anyways. No blades. No shivs. Just bare knuckles and blunt weapons. Fight goes on until one side taps out or stops responding... You in?"
The figure in the ring leans over the ropes spitting blood at some of the audience members who recoil at the provocation.
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae (L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk - Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Sieg’s brow furrows… the idea of a showdown with this hulking brute, Fistmeat, sends an apprehensive shiver down his spine.
Leaning over to Talon, he mutters “Do you think we can take the oaf?”
As you await Talon's answer, you both see Fistmeat squat down, scoop up a handful of bloody sand, stuff it in his mouth and proceed to... eat it. He coughs and spits a bit as it goes down, undercutting the fearsomeness of the display... but still, he manages to get the sand down.
After wiping the remanding grit from his face he stomps his foot, pounds his chest and howls again.
Some of the crowd cheer on the maniac's antics but most just respond with a combination of revulsion and bemusement.
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae (L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk - Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Talon, who has never been confident of taking anyone ever, looks up at Sieg like he's just said the craziest thing he's ever heard in his life. His eyes roll from Sieg to watch Fistmeat eat a handful of dirt...
"Uhm..." Talon says. There is a second there where it seems like he'll say no. Where it seems like reason will get the better of him and he'll make a good decision for the first time in his life. Instead, Draconic lineage grips him by his reptilian gonads and he finds himself unable to say the reasonable thing, especially because he's afraid someone, Cliptip or, deities of dragonkind forbid!, Onifax, might find out he was a coward. Instead he looks at Sieg and musters his most confident answer.
"Yes?"
DM of AURYN: The Measure of Devotion - Escape from New York
DM of Legacy of NIMH
Sieg nods. “Then allow us to be properly introduced to this Fistmeat… I am sure Onifax will find the story admirable.”
As you two are having this discussion, you barely notice Gleb making hand signals to the ringmaster, indicating that he has the next challenger.
The moment he receives a return acknowledgement from the ring master, the burly promoter starts barking out an announcement that the, "Wind Walking Titan of the Ring, Seig of Aubrey and his faithful lizard companion will face the bloodsoaked goon pretending to the title of 'champion'!"
Gleb's introduction is pitch-perfect, but the crowd responds with more laughter than fear. "Titan? More like titmouse." Calls out one member of the audience to an uproar of laughter. Another voice calls out, "Forget the fight... You'd make more coin sellin' that scaled rat of yours to The Pursers." Another roar of laughter, but Gleb's voice cuts through it all.
"Quit flappin' yer tounge ye' knave and put yer money where your mouth is." Gleb barks. After a brief aside with one of the "Faceless" Custodians of Chance, odds are established. 2-to-1 in favor of Fistmeat. You can put down your own coin on the match if you'd like.
You're led to the ring where a collection of simple blunt weapons line a rack for you to choose from - a club, a light hammer, a mace, and a quarterstaff. You can pick any one of them to use in the bout if you'd like. Once you're ready, you can step into the ring (where we will play through the battle over Discord)
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae (L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk - Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Talon puffs up a bit as Sieg makes his statement about, more or less, impressing Onifax, and prepares to march confidently into the arena. As he steps in, however, someone shouts something about a lizard. Talon looks around for a second for a lizard, and then realizes that they're talking about him. Calling him a lizard.
"Lizard!?" Talon says, looking around sour. "My blood is of dragonkind! Lizard indeed!" He flinches away from the comment about the Purse Makers, though. It seems like this did more to get into his head than anything else. Then he leans close to Sieg and starts to whisper, eying the quarterstaff as a potential weapon.
The brute, confident in his raw strength, makes no effort to move toward the weapons, instead, he pounds his fists together and roars at you both... flecks of saliva mixed with sand and blood spray in your direction.
Sieg flinches at Fistmeat’s spittle, raising an unimpressed eyebrow as he lays down an additional 2 Gold bet on his own victory. “Now now, big boy." He says to Fistmeat. "Use your words!”
Enraged by Sieg's words, Fistmeat lets out another bellow, losing just enough focus to allow the challengers the pair of chance to gain the initiative.
ROUND 1.
Even as their hulking adversary roars, Sieg can’t hold back a slight smile. The adrenaline, the bell, the salty effluvium of sweat, blood and tears… this is what he lives for. He cracks his dainty knuckles.
Glancing at Talon, he mutters “Let’s do this…” under his baited breath before initiating the plan the two had hastily concocted. His Eladrin irises flicker with golden light as a warm breeze whips into the arena, softly engulfing him. To anyone with their eyes not firmly fixed on Seig, what happens next might seem a remarkable, well-timed jump, but this is not the case at all. In fact, the Eladrin phases through one rift in reality and exits through another - several feet above Fistmeat’s head - descending in a well-placed kick that lands squarely across the brute's skull, catching him completely by surprise...
Sieg stumbles a bit on the landing but manages to keep his balance enough to stay upright...
The little Kobold, meanwhile, bounces frantically, amping himself up as he runs across the arena floor toward the hulking pitfighter he and Sieg have been placed against. Understanding that he has 0 chance of hurting this gut himself, instead he leaps toward Fistmeat's face while screaming, trying to keep him blind while giving Sieg the upper hand...
He keeps up his battle cry as he sails past Fistmeat's face...
The experienced pit fighter, still struggling to orient himself following Seig's disappearing/reappearing kick-in-the-face act, doesn't even notice Talon launch his leaping attack. Nor does he express any awareness when the little kobold flies past his head, missing completely and landing awkwardly on the other side.
He does, however, jolt into attention when he hears Talon's draconic cry... Alarmed by the sudden screeching sound, he stutters for a moment, then attempts to use the first of his two attacks to grab hold of the kobold, but Talon slips free of Fistmeat's sloppy attempt to grab him and hits the floor.
The furious brute throws another fist in Talon's direction, but in his haste he misses by a wide margin.
ROUND 2.
Jabbering like some sort of feral lizard, and with very little idea what to do to help Sieg, Talon pivots on his feet and lunges again, this time trying to grab one of Fistmeat's legs and reduce his mobility... But Fistmeat easily shakes Talon off his leg like he was an oversexed terrier.
As Talon bellows his draconic battle cry, Sieg feels a surge of confidence. Fistmeat’s attempt to shrug off the Kobold has left a certain soft target quite vulnerable to the age-old, tried-and-true trick: a good, hard kick to the groin.
Fistmeat's eyes bulge out like a Looney Tunes cartoon as Sieg's kick lands true. In an immediate response, he takes two wild swings at the eladrin, forgetting, in that moment that Talon even exists...
The first hit lands...but the second fist only catches air... though the blow manages to shower Sieg with a few speck of sweat and blood. Sieg tenses up to shrug off Fistmeat’s hook, but the brute still sends him staggering.
ROUND 3
Talon starts to panic. He's never been in a fight before (save for, perhaps, with other Kobolds) and this is getting downright out of his league. He immediately regrets not grabbing that stick thing he saw before walking into the arena but Sieg made this seem so easy... He knows his hand-to-hand game is too weak to be of any use in this situation, so he continues trying to help Sieg in any way he can. He tries one more time to scramble up Fistmeat's body and latch onto his face to blind him, all the while 'roaring' like his life depends on it... Because it might...
As the stars in Sieg's vision, subside, he sees Talon ferally gripping onto his adversary’s back like a climber scaling the side of a mountain. No time to think… another strike, this time aiming for the gut.
The blow hits him solidly in the gut, causing him to double over in pain... He's looking very unstable as he uses his full action in an attempt to pull Talon off of his face...
He succeeds in peeling Talon off his face tossing the kobold to the ground, but scratch marks remain. He's blinking and wobbling now disoriented from Talon's attack and winded from the blow to the gut. Looks like a strong wind could blow him over.
ROUND 4
In a moment of lightheadedness, Sieg gets an uncanny sense of eyes boring into him. He become aware of a figure in the audience watching the bout with calm, keen interest...
Sieg’s eyes chance upon the stranger’s. For a heartbeat, the sounds of the stadium fade away and the world around blurs, and the only thought which permeates the Eladrin’s mind is who...
But, then, his attention refocuses just in time to duck under another of Fistmeat’s blows. He attacks, this one a knee-buster.
The attack lands... Hard... The brute's legs go out from under him and he slams to the ground, his head hitting the sandy pit with an audible Thump. He starts to try to push himself back up, but wavers and collapses. The crowd goes wild as you claim Sieg and Talon claim their victory.
END OF COMBAT
Talon scrambles away from the collapsed fighter, huffing and looking around wild eyed as he tries to take in what's happening. Then everyone is screaming and shouting and takes a moment to take it all in before grinning in his lizardy-way and raising his fists over his head like he'd actually done something...
"We live!" He shouts to Sieg like he can't believe it. "We alive we alivealivealivealive!"
Sieg beams, betraying a freshly broken tooth in the upper left corner of his mouth. "We sure are, pal. You were amazing."
"Talon was AMAZING!" The little Kobold says, dancing and celebrating. "Sieg was more AMAZINGER! He was like...!" He mimes his impression of Sieg, dancing around and throwing punches at the air...
The reaction from the crowd is mixed as usual with various drunken insults being thrown at both sides of the battle. Nevertheless, the heart of the crowd seems to be on the side of the lithe eladrin and his feisty kobold companion.
Gleb approaches with your payment and winnings (4 Gold Pieces Total) and asks if you'd be willing to go for another match now that you've gotten the crowd's attention.
On the word "attention" Sieg turns and notices the bald man standing a few yards away, flanked by a pair of bodyguards. He appears to be waiting for an opportune time to speak with the two champions. However, the bald man's attention is suddenly pulled away by a young squire who rushes into the building with an urgent message...
As Sieg watches this all unfold, his attention is quickly brought back to the here-and-now when he hears Gleb shout, "Well, Sieg? What'll it be?"
Talon:
You were still paying attention when Gleb was speaking, but you might not have understood much of it. The promoter offered to double your cut if you went in for a death match next. Twenty gold if you survive, plus whatever winnings you make from wagering on the bout.
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae (L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk - Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
"Erhm" begins Sieg, following a drawn-out pause - but his attention is engaged elsewhere. Something about this bald stranger inspires goosebumps. "I need a moment to think that one over. Will you excuse me..." the Eladrin mumbles, already pushing his way through the crowd, discreetly as possible, in the direction the squire has led the object of his fascination. His intention is to eavesdrop on the two's conversation.
Talon stands there, perplexed at what is happening, not having paid nearly enough attention to Gleb before Sieg steps off. He watches the Eladrin go, strokes the spikes on his head, and then repeats Sieg's line.
"Willyouexcuseme." He says, then takes off after his friend.
DM of AURYN: The Measure of Devotion - Escape from New York
DM of Legacy of NIMH
Sieg and Talon move through the crowd to get within earshot of the bald man. As they do so, Sieg catches the tail end of the squire's message...
"...extinguished the fire, sir. However, we think they might have drowned in their attempt to esc--"
The bald man's eyes flick up, noticing Sieg and Talon's approach... As he does so, he lifts a finger to silence the squire, terminating the conversation by calling out to the pair. "Hail! Champions of the pit. You fought a noble bout... Such unorthodox techniques... It was an honor to witness to it."
As he says this, the bald man silently directs his bodyguards to deal with the page's message before turning his full attention back to the eladrin and the kobold. "Please, let us celebrate your victory with a round of drinks bought from my winnings. It's the very least I can do."
One of the bodyguards splits off, taking the squire by the arm and leading him away. The other remains by the bald man's side, watching you all carefully. They are all dressed in vestments similar to what you might find on clerics... However, the emblem on the vestments (below) doesn't relate to any deity that you're aware of.
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae (L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk - Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Sieg's eyes narrow a hair. Such ready gestures of hospitality are too often, in his experience, snakes in the grass. Nonetheless, already won over by his own curiosity, he glances down at Talon. "What do you think, pal? The Feast of the Mother Moon doesn't happen every day..."