Taban crossed his arms, his expression unyielding as he faced the enforcer. "I’ve told you, I’m not paying—at least not whatever ridiculous sum you think I owe. That fight was rigged, plain and simple, and I won’t line your pockets over a lie." His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it.
He reached into the pouch at his belt, fishing out a few coins (50 gp), and tossed them toward K’lahu with a flick of his wrist. The gold clinked as it hit the ground. "That’s for you," he said, his tone dismissive. "Consider it a gesture of goodwill. But if you think I’m handing over a fortune for a fight like that, you’re more foolish than I thought."
He squared his shoulders, his gaze hard as he met their eyes. "Now, if you’ve got a problem with that, we can settle it right here. Otherwise, take the coins and be grateful I’m giving you even that."
Taban let out a slow breath, his eyes narrowing as he reached for his shield and spear. "Very well," he said, his voice calm but laced with resolve. "I’ll handle this myself." With practiced ease, he positioned his shield and raised his spear, readying himself for the fight.
Meanwhile, K’lahu stepped back, crossing her arms as she watched the scene unfold. "I told you he was stubborn," she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. Her eyes flicked to the others, her expression serious. "He’s fast and strong—be careful."
Petor, concealed by those who have already stepped forward to confront Taban, readies himself. Breathing deeply, flexing his fingers, he grasps the small crystal that sits in a pouch at his side. "Let's get this over with, I'm getting hot and I could use a drink."
Petor seizes the opportunity to attack, using a bonus action to unleash the Innate Sorcery within him, then rolling his eyes back in his head as he casts black ribbons, with the top left of the cube centred on the gladiator.
"Okay, guessin it'll be the hard way then...." Cleggor readies his shield and steps forward with his staff turned magical shillelagh, swinging it at Taban, saying "Here's your comeuppance! Maybe knock some sense into ya!" He clocks him over the head with it. (non-lethal damage).
Movement (on the map, northeast of Taban)
Shillelagh : ( Nat 20! ) 25 to hit, for 11 points of non-lethal bludgeoning damage to his skull.
Taban staggered from the force of Cleggor’s strike, his spear digging into the ground to steady himself. His golden eyes narrowed as he appraised his opponent. “You’re stronger than you look,” he admitted, his voice a low rumble. “but that won't be enough.”
As he straightened, inky ribbons of dark magic coiled and writhed around him, emerging from the ground like living shadows. They latched onto his limbs and torso, tightening with each movement. Taban’s muscles tensed against the restraints, veins bulging as he flexed against the magical bonds.
He surged forward, the dark tendrils pulling taut, but his spear still moved with lethal precision. He spun the weapon and thrust the blunt end toward Cleggor’s ribs. The strike missed as the bindings jerked him off balance at the last second. Taban growled, a deep sound of frustration and resolve.
Using the momentum, he pivoted, his shield flashing in an arc. The magic binding him strained and groaned, unable to halt the powerful swing. The shield struck Cleggor with a resounding crash, sending the man sprawling to the ground.
Taban loomed over his opponent, the dark magic still anchoring him, but he refused to yield. With a guttural roar, he raised his spear high. The inky ribbons shuddered and frayed as he brought it down with devastating force. The strike landed true, leaving Cleggor unconscious.
As Cleggor hit the ground, the nearby trainers stiffened, their eyes darting to the fallen fighter. Without hesitation, they grabbed bandages and splints from a nearby table, tools they often used to tend to the wounds of trainees and aspiring gladiators.
Taban, still standing tall despite the dark magic coiling around him, glanced their way. His golden eyes softened for a brief moment, and he gave them a sharp nod of approval. The trainers paused, reassured by the silent gesture, then moved closer, ready to step in.
“He fought well,” Taban muttered, his voice steady as his gaze returned to the shadows restraining him.
Thyxius is shocked for a moment as Cleggor is defeated, though thankfully it seems Taban doesn't intend to kill them. Still, he doesn't plan on giving the gladiator any more chances to anyway. The morality of what they are doing still gnaws at him a bit, but he is certain that defending his allies aligns with Torm's will at least. He murmurs a prayer and then moves to strike at Taban with his longsword.
Taban stood, restrained by the inky ribbons of magic, absorbing every blow that struck him. His body bore fresh wounds, and blood seeped from cuts and bruises, but his spear remained steady in his grasp, his resolve unbroken.
K’lahu approached, striking him hard with a calculated blow. Taban staggered but didn’t fall. Her second strike landed, but this time, it seemed to have no effect.
"I think you’re biting off more than you can chew, Taban," K’lahu said, her tone sharp and mocking.
Blood dripping from his wounds, Taban met her gaze with unyielding defiance. "You haven’t won yet," he replied, his voice steady and firm.
Petor grunts, holding the black ribbons around Taban. He draws his spear, then walks forward to the edge of the square, throwing his spear at the mass of coiling black lines that is Taban.
Taban focuses intently on K'lahu, raising his shield to strike. His first attempt misses as she evades, but he quickly follows up, slamming her with a second shield bash that sends her to the ground.
With K'lahu prone, Taban flips his spear and brings the blunt end down on her, landing a solid hit. Breaking free from the inky ribbons that restrained him, Taban stands, bloodied but steady, his focus unshaken and ready to continue the fight. (16 damage to K'lahu)
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Very well, if you will not settle your debts willingly, then the debt will be settled forcefully.
Thyxius isn't wild about having to fight over questionable gambling practices, but doesn't want his allies to be hurt either.
"A man takes responsibility for his actions, including the unwise ones. If you want a real fight you shall have it."
Taban let out a slow breath, his eyes narrowing as he reached for his shield and spear. "Very well," he said, his voice calm but laced with resolve. "I’ll handle this myself." With practiced ease, he positioned his shield and raised his spear, readying himself for the fight.
Meanwhile, K’lahu stepped back, crossing her arms as she watched the scene unfold. "I told you he was stubborn," she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. Her eyes flicked to the others, her expression serious. "He’s fast and strong—be careful."
Petor, concealed by those who have already stepped forward to confront Taban, readies himself. Breathing deeply, flexing his fingers, he grasps the small crystal that sits in a pouch at his side. "Let's get this over with, I'm getting hot and I could use a drink."
Rhys draws his blades and thinks I’ve really got to get better armor.
Thyxius draws his longsword and shield, steeling himself for the coming battle. At least it'll be a good chance to test their cohesion as a team.
Lucian readies his bow
D&D since 1984
Petor seizes the opportunity to attack, using a bonus action to unleash the Innate Sorcery within him, then rolling his eyes back in his head as he casts black ribbons, with the top left of the cube centred on the gladiator.
"Okay, guessin it'll be the hard way then...." Cleggor readies his shield and steps forward with his staff turned magical shillelagh, swinging it at Taban, saying "Here's your comeuppance! Maybe knock some sense into ya!" He clocks him over the head with it. (non-lethal damage).
Movement (on the map, northeast of Taban)
Shillelagh : ( Nat 20! ) 25 to hit, for 11 points of non-lethal bludgeoning damage to his skull.
Taban staggered from the force of Cleggor’s strike, his spear digging into the ground to steady himself. His golden eyes narrowed as he appraised his opponent. “You’re stronger than you look,” he admitted, his voice a low rumble. “but that won't be enough.”
As he straightened, inky ribbons of dark magic coiled and writhed around him, emerging from the ground like living shadows. They latched onto his limbs and torso, tightening with each movement. Taban’s muscles tensed against the restraints, veins bulging as he flexed against the magical bonds.
He surged forward, the dark tendrils pulling taut, but his spear still moved with lethal precision. He spun the weapon and thrust the blunt end toward Cleggor’s ribs. The strike missed as the bindings jerked him off balance at the last second. Taban growled, a deep sound of frustration and resolve.
Using the momentum, he pivoted, his shield flashing in an arc. The magic binding him strained and groaned, unable to halt the powerful swing. The shield struck Cleggor with a resounding crash, sending the man sprawling to the ground.
Taban loomed over his opponent, the dark magic still anchoring him, but he refused to yield. With a guttural roar, he raised his spear high. The inky ribbons shuddered and frayed as he brought it down with devastating force. The strike landed true, leaving Cleggor unconscious.
((Taban is now Restrained))
for reference: restrained
As Cleggor hit the ground, the nearby trainers stiffened, their eyes darting to the fallen fighter. Without hesitation, they grabbed bandages and splints from a nearby table, tools they often used to tend to the wounds of trainees and aspiring gladiators.
Taban, still standing tall despite the dark magic coiling around him, glanced their way. His golden eyes softened for a brief moment, and he gave them a sharp nod of approval. The trainers paused, reassured by the silent gesture, then moved closer, ready to step in.
“He fought well,” Taban muttered, his voice steady as his gaze returned to the shadows restraining him.
Lucian walks up to Taban and says "Tap out at any time."
Action - Short sword (He fakes (1st roll, then figured it's at ADV) and then delivers a solid blow (24 to hit {NAT 20} for 21 points of damage).
BA - his curved blade comes around from his back and strikes (17 to hit for 2 damage)
(NOTE: All damage was to knock him out and not kill)
D&D since 1984
Thyxius is shocked for a moment as Cleggor is defeated, though thankfully it seems Taban doesn't intend to kill them. Still, he doesn't plan on giving the gladiator any more chances to anyway. The morality of what they are doing still gnaws at him a bit, but he is certain that defending his allies aligns with Torm's will at least. He murmurs a prayer and then moves to strike at Taban with his longsword.
Bonus Action: shield of faith on self, making AC 20
Action: Longsword to hit 14 w adv, damage 4 and sap
(Unsure if he is still standing but I’ll take my turn anyway)
Rhys looks at the sweating gladiator and marks him as his target (hunter’s mark). Then draws his longbow and fires.
18 to hit, 7 bow + 6 hunter’s mark.
Taban stood, restrained by the inky ribbons of magic, absorbing every blow that struck him. His body bore fresh wounds, and blood seeped from cuts and bruises, but his spear remained steady in his grasp, his resolve unbroken.
K’lahu approached, striking him hard with a calculated blow. Taban staggered but didn’t fall. Her second strike landed, but this time, it seemed to have no effect.
"I think you’re biting off more than you can chew, Taban," K’lahu said, her tone sharp and mocking.
Blood dripping from his wounds, Taban met her gaze with unyielding defiance. "You haven’t won yet," he replied, his voice steady and firm.
Petor grunts, holding the black ribbons around Taban. He draws his spear, then walks forward to the edge of the square, throwing his spear at the mass of coiling black lines that is Taban.
13 to hit with advantage, 6 damage.
Cleggor’s turn
Taban focuses intently on K'lahu, raising his shield to strike. His first attempt misses as she evades, but he quickly follows up, slamming her with a second shield bash that sends her to the ground.
With K'lahu prone, Taban flips his spear and brings the blunt end down on her, landing a solid hit. Breaking free from the inky ribbons that restrained him, Taban stands, bloodied but steady, his focus unshaken and ready to continue the fight. (16 damage to K'lahu)