"Ah, actually, I should grab our friends too. Be right back." Thyxius looks around for Cleggor, Lucian, and Petor among the crowds and tells them about the task.
"We'll be helping to collect a 500 gp debt from a gladiator. Apparently he is a temperamental type...but 50% of whatever we collect should help cover the cost of a dinosaur or guide. I think it will be simple enough with all of us."
Once Thyxius locates Petor, he nods, thinking. "Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. I'm hoping all of you have at least some experience with combat, at least that's what your weapons suggest. Are we the sort of group that just figures it out on the fly or do we have some sort of plan for things turn ugly?"
Once Thyxius locates Petor, he nods, thinking. "Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. I'm hoping all of you have at least some experience with combat, at least that's what your weapons suggest. Are we the sort of group that just figures it out on the fly or do we have some sort of plan for things turn ugly?"
Thyxius raises a hand to his chin as he stops to think for a moment. "Well, in case diplomacy fails...I suppose I should stand at the front. Hm, am I the only melee fighter we have? What an honor! And a responsibility."
“I got some spells to help, but …. Bok Choy!, I have quite a wallopin' stick!" Cleggor's staff starts to glow slightly, and he hurries his legs along, curious about this next job. "I've never been in the muscle work, makin someone find their wallet or somethin', but if it helps us find a ride...". Cleggors legs hurry along, hustling after his companions and doing some stretches with his staff as they move along.
"I suppose it's best if I stay back and support with my magic in that case. Plus, I really did mean it about luck. Things just go well for me and poorly for who I'm fighting, even though I'm not much of a warrior or a particularly good sorcerer. If I'm needed in the fray, I do have a spear that packs a little extra punch."
Once everyone is gathered, K’lahu nods in approval, clearly satisfied with the assembled group. Without wasting time, she turns and begins leading the way toward a sparring zone near the Market Ward.
The scene is lively, with several people sparring in pairs. Younger fighters practice their moves while older, more experienced individuals shout advice or personally guide their trainees. The air hums with the clatter of weapons and the grunt of exertion.
Positioning herself deliberately, K’lahu ensures she’s in full view of a towering Chultan gladiator training nearby. Taban is an imposing figure, with a muscular build that speaks of countless battles and years of training. His dark skin glistens with sweat under the sun, and etched across his broad shoulder is an intricate tattoo of a labyrinth, its twisting paths seemingly without end. His sharp eyes lock onto K’lahu with a mix of annoyance and simmering anger, and his every movement exudes the confidence of a seasoned warrior.
Noticing her, Taban’s expression hardens. With a deliberate motion, he picks up a battered shield and a long, wickedly pointed spear, striding toward her with measured steps. He stops about 30 feet away, his voice booming with accusation: "The fight was rigged! I owe you nothing!"
K’lahu remains unbothered, her tone calm and cutting. "Rigged or not, you placed your bet on the kid. He lost. Pay up."
Her indifference only fuels Taban’s growing fury. His grip tightens on the spear, his knuckles whitening as his frustration becomes palpable. Around them, the commotion in the sparring area dies down. Every eye turns to the two as the tension crackles in the air, everyone waiting to see how this standoff will unfold.
Thyxius stands protectively in front of the others but maintains a calm stance for now, realizing there is more to this situation than K'lahu told them.
"If the fight was rigged, how can any bets on it be valid?" He murmurs, wanting to give her a chance to explain herself at least.
Cleggor puffs out his chest, driving his magically empowered staff into the ground, standing behind K’lahu, hoping to give help to any intimidation attempt over Taban. "Sounds like ye need to settle up and pay up." In the center of area, in a place that makes sense as a central gathering point (within 60 feet), Cleggor points and mumbles "Ars acré fustica" and a bonfire springs up on the ground, and the sound of crackling and burning fits into the background. "Makes it cozy. Please, we're reasonable people. Settle your debt, or explain yourself, one or the other."
Thyxius stands protectively in front of the others but maintains a calm stance for now, realizing there is more to this situation than K'lahu told them.
"If the fight was rigged, how can any bets on it be valid?" He murmurs, wanting to give her a chance to explain herself at least.
"It's always the same excuse. 'The fight was rigged,' just like every crook swears they're innocent. It's predictable and annoying." then, her voice hardens. "We didn’t come here to debate—let's get this done."
Petor speaks up, his eyes focused on Taban. "Hey buddy, if you can't give us a good reason why this fight was rigged against you, then my friends and I are going to have to use force." He tries to sound tough, supported by Cleggor.
Petor speaks up, his eyes focused on Taban. "Hey buddy, if you can't give us a good reason why this fight was rigged against you, then my friends and I are going to have to use force." He tries to sound tough, supported by Cleggor.
Intimidation 14
Taban stood firm, his voice steady but laced with frustration. "I’m telling you, that fight wasn’t clean. My gladiator’s never fought like that—missing strikes he’d normally land blindfolded. And that brute he was up against? I’ve watched him train. Slow as a turtle on land, but last night he moved like a damn jungle cat. Something’s off. Maybe someone greased the handlers or slipped something into the water. You know how things work in Port Nyanzaru; it’s not the first time a fight’s been bought."
Taban’s hand hovered near the pouch of gold at his belt, but instead of offering it, he let out a slow, deliberate breath. "I don’t need proof to show you my fighter’s no weakling. If it’s proof you want, I’ll have him face all of you—shield and spear only, no killing blows. Just enough to make my point... this time." His eyes burned with quiet fury as he stepped closer. "Unless you’d rather take my word for it."
Even you acknowledge that rigged fights are common here, yet you still accepted a wager with this woman. Looks to me like that’s part of the gamble. If the fates were different, your man would’ve been the one to receive the benefit of the rigged bout. Would you have declined your winnings then? Pay your dues and have this be a lesson on gambling in such manner again
"Of course," Thyxius nods, glad his negotiating skills paid off, "Lead the way."
((are you guys letting the rest of the group know about this?))
"Ah, actually, I should grab our friends too. Be right back." Thyxius looks around for Cleggor, Lucian, and Petor among the crowds and tells them about the task.
"We'll be helping to collect a 500 gp debt from a gladiator. Apparently he is a temperamental type...but 50% of whatever we collect should help cover the cost of a dinosaur or guide. I think it will be simple enough with all of us."
Lucian "Ok, what could possible go wrong." <insert eyeroll>
D&D since 1984
Once Thyxius locates Petor, he nods, thinking. "Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. I'm hoping all of you have at least some experience with combat, at least that's what your weapons suggest. Are we the sort of group that just figures it out on the fly or do we have some sort of plan for things turn ugly?"
Thyxius raises a hand to his chin as he stops to think for a moment. "Well, in case diplomacy fails...I suppose I should stand at the front. Hm, am I the only melee fighter we have? What an honor! And a responsibility."
I can be useful in either position but I prefer to get up close with my dual swords.
“I got some spells to help, but …. Bok Choy!, I have quite a wallopin' stick!" Cleggor's staff starts to glow slightly, and he hurries his legs along, curious about this next job. "I've never been in the muscle work, makin someone find their wallet or somethin', but if it helps us find a ride...". Cleggors legs hurry along, hustling after his companions and doing some stretches with his staff as they move along.
"I suppose it's best if I stay back and support with my magic in that case. Plus, I really did mean it about luck. Things just go well for me and poorly for who I'm fighting, even though I'm not much of a warrior or a particularly good sorcerer. If I'm needed in the fray, I do have a spear that packs a little extra punch."
Once everyone is gathered, K’lahu nods in approval, clearly satisfied with the assembled group. Without wasting time, she turns and begins leading the way toward a sparring zone near the Market Ward.
The scene is lively, with several people sparring in pairs. Younger fighters practice their moves while older, more experienced individuals shout advice or personally guide their trainees. The air hums with the clatter of weapons and the grunt of exertion.
Positioning herself deliberately, K’lahu ensures she’s in full view of a towering Chultan gladiator training nearby. Taban is an imposing figure, with a muscular build that speaks of countless battles and years of training. His dark skin glistens with sweat under the sun, and etched across his broad shoulder is an intricate tattoo of a labyrinth, its twisting paths seemingly without end. His sharp eyes lock onto K’lahu with a mix of annoyance and simmering anger, and his every movement exudes the confidence of a seasoned warrior.
Noticing her, Taban’s expression hardens. With a deliberate motion, he picks up a battered shield and a long, wickedly pointed spear, striding toward her with measured steps. He stops about 30 feet away, his voice booming with accusation: "The fight was rigged! I owe you nothing!"
K’lahu remains unbothered, her tone calm and cutting. "Rigged or not, you placed your bet on the kid. He lost. Pay up."
Her indifference only fuels Taban’s growing fury. His grip tightens on the spear, his knuckles whitening as his frustration becomes palpable. Around them, the commotion in the sparring area dies down. Every eye turns to the two as the tension crackles in the air, everyone waiting to see how this standoff will unfold.
Shouting out to Taban, "Do you know who rigged the fight?"
Then whispering to K'lahu, "Was the rigged fight your doing?"
Thyxius stands protectively in front of the others but maintains a calm stance for now, realizing there is more to this situation than K'lahu told them.
"If the fight was rigged, how can any bets on it be valid?" He murmurs, wanting to give her a chance to explain herself at least.
Cleggor puffs out his chest, driving his magically empowered staff into the ground, standing behind K’lahu, hoping to give help to any intimidation attempt over Taban. "Sounds like ye need to settle up and pay up." In the center of area, in a place that makes sense as a central gathering point (within 60 feet), Cleggor points and mumbles "Ars acré fustica" and a bonfire springs up on the ground, and the sound of crackling and burning fits into the background. "Makes it cozy. Please, we're reasonable people. Settle your debt, or explain yourself, one or the other."
"It's always the same excuse. 'The fight was rigged,' just like every crook swears they're innocent. It's predictable and annoying." then, her voice hardens. "We didn’t come here to debate—let's get this done."
Thyxius studies her body language for any tells that she is lying, but is unable to spot anything.
Insight 3 -.-
Petor speaks up, his eyes focused on Taban. "Hey buddy, if you can't give us a good reason why this fight was rigged against you, then my friends and I are going to have to use force." He tries to sound tough, supported by Cleggor.
Intimidation 14
Thyxius will help with Petor's intimidation attempt by taking on a more threatening posture, hoping to scare Taban into standing down.
Taban stood firm, his voice steady but laced with frustration. "I’m telling you, that fight wasn’t clean. My gladiator’s never fought like that—missing strikes he’d normally land blindfolded. And that brute he was up against? I’ve watched him train. Slow as a turtle on land, but last night he moved like a damn jungle cat. Something’s off. Maybe someone greased the handlers or slipped something into the water. You know how things work in Port Nyanzaru; it’s not the first time a fight’s been bought."
Taban’s hand hovered near the pouch of gold at his belt, but instead of offering it, he let out a slow, deliberate breath. "I don’t need proof to show you my fighter’s no weakling. If it’s proof you want, I’ll have him face all of you—shield and spear only, no killing blows. Just enough to make my point... this time." His eyes burned with quiet fury as he stepped closer. "Unless you’d rather take my word for it."
Even you acknowledge that rigged fights are common here, yet you still accepted a wager with this woman. Looks to me like that’s part of the gamble. If the fates were different, your man would’ve been the one to receive the benefit of the rigged bout. Would you have declined your winnings then? Pay your dues and have this be a lesson on gambling in such manner again
"Good point. 'Gambling' means risk without certainty. So as they said, please pay up." Lucian says
D&D since 1984