This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Frustrated at his lack of concentration, and not knowing if that's a normal problem for him, he lashes out at the creature again with both his sword-arms.
"And the Champions have rallied back! Zndrsplt has scored their first point! It is now 3-1 in favor of the Misfits!" The referees similarly work their magic on Bill, reviving him but leaving him too dazed to fight this round.
With a renewed sense of vigor, feeling the match slowly start to even out, Alloy slashes at Toothy once again. Aiming for the already large wound dealt by Orion's wolf Lyca, Alloy's two well-placed slashes are enough to bring the imaginary beast down once again.
"But the Misfits answer with a kill of their own! 4-1 in their favor! If the Champions don't come together, it's all over but the shouting, folks!" Toothy soon rises back, saved by homunculus magic, more enraged than ever.
A grumble emerges form Marcellus as the safety mechanisms bring this toothy monstrosity back up. "Getting up was a mistake" Marcellus says, then goes in to lay out this creature once more.
Dagger Attack: 12 Damage: 10
If the creature is down, Marcellus will move south to the boy that was with this monster and shield bash him in the face. If monster isn't down, he will shield bash monster to ensure it goes down.
Both of Marcellus' attacks miss, Toothy able to swat the attacks away with ease. Lyca, however, manages a skillful lunge at one of Toothy's tentacles, ripping one of them off.
Toothy, instinctually, goes for Lyca, but Pir redirects that instinct towards Marcellus, hoping to help the Champions overcome their point deficit. Concentrating, Pir increases Toothy's size temporarily and causes the imaginary monster to lash out towards Marcellus. It wraps two of its tentacles around Marcellus' waist and pulls the Innistradi thug into its toothy maw. He immediately takes 12 points of damage as the teeth gnash on his body. On his next turn, Marcellus will need to make a strength (STR) check to break out.
Korkuth sees this and screams in triumph. Gaining a burst of energy and defiance, he flings a tooth at Alloy's face, but it harmlessly bounces off.
Okaun smiles up at Zndrsplt, congratulating her on the point scored, before punching Orion once again, dealing 7 points of bludgeoning damage.
Zndrsplt notices Bill getting back up after her magic missiles knocked him down. Wanting him to stay down, she aims a ray of frost his direction, but it veers off course as Okaun's shoulders tremble with the punch, turning the back wall into solid ice instead.
This bout was going on longer than Vojmir had expected. These champions must not be as tough and hale as they were touted. Or it could be that there was a child amongst them. In either case, the skirmish was wearing him down. At least this wouldn't end up with him worrying about the Blessed Sleep or whatever could pass for it here with all the racket. Another flash of flames licks his fingers and surges into Okaun and Zndrsplt. And then he dashes right up besides the brute and spellslinger. He'd always had a knack for avoiding a ghoulcallers foul attacks when he was within easy axing distance.
One more Burning Hands 8
Vojmir has Advantage on Spells cast against him within 5'
Going to use Warding Flare as a reaction on Okaun if Vojmir is attacked by him, otherwise use reaction to smack Zndrsplt when she casts a spell.
"And Okaun is down! I repeat, the Eye of Chaos himself is down! Just one more point, and the Misfits will have their victory!" Zndrsplt, burned with the full force of the spell, falls into the dust beside her partner, timidly staring at Vojmir and Orion, feeling vulnerable without her partner's protection. The referees soon scramble to revive Okaun, but Zndrsplt still lies vulnerable.
Marcellus bursts through Toothy's chest, splitting the beast open on the arena floor.
"And just like that, it's over folks! The Misfits have won 6-1! It's a rout!"
The crowd cheers as healing magic floods the arena, bringing all the combatants back up to full health. Pir helps Korkuth up off the dirt and ushers his teammates into a line. "We'll get 'em next time, champ," Okaun says, tossling the orc kid's mohawk. The Champions walk over to you all, offering their hands to shake.
"Well fought, strangers. Looking forward to a rematch," Pir tells Marcellus.
Marcellus's face distorts into a mask of surprise. "You are looking forward to a rematch? Who does this kind of activity for fun? That damned earth rumble at the start hurt pretty damn bad! Ya'll are weird."
Marcellus looks toward his party. "Did any of you all enjoy that? I'm never a fan of fighting even if I am good at it."
Letting out a hefty sigh of relief, Vojmir takes a moment to rest before responding to Marcellus's complaint. "A bout of training does the body good. It helps keep you sharp when you are tested. *Woo*. I perhaps should have started with something a little less strenuous."
He stows his sheild and axe before consoling the small orc. "You did well for one so young. Much longer and our metal member would have been in need of repairs himself." The youth reminded him....of things he'd rather stay buried. But he could at least offer the lad a bit of brightness for now.
Your challengers walk away, leaving you to bask in the glory of your victory. After a few moments, the crowd begins to disperse and the announcer, now on your level, ushers you back into the locker room. Just as he shuts the door, you notice a dark blue shimmer in the far corner of the room, revealing a man in a dark blue hood, covered in light blue hooks and dots.
"Well fought, planeswalkers," he says, flipping his hood back to reveal a a thin white face, topped with tousled black hair.
Crossing his arms, Marcellus gives the waiting visitor a flat look. "Don't go labeling me like that blue boy." There is only a brief pause before Marcellus heads towards a locker and starts to strip down in preparation for a shower.
The rush of the crowd fades as Vojmir and the others are led from the arena, leaving a stillness in the air. A stillness that is soon broken by a most unexpected visitor with unlooked for news. His eyes flare as the newcomers words sink in. That was why the hunter's timbre had seemed familiar. The man was from Vojmir's own Plane. Surely Marcellus would have recognized him as one of his own as well, Vojmir still bore the mark of Avacyn's church upon his clothes.
Whatever Marcellus's reasons for staying silent, they would have to wait till later. Vojmir had to deal with this new stranger. "I think there is little use in denying it. The label fits and we do not fit here. I don't suppose you came here just to congratulate us, could have done that without such a flashy entrance. Are you sure you don't belong here?" The man had Vojmir slightly on edge. Honeyed words could be a trap to lower his guard or to swindle him.
"No no, I come from a place far more war-torn than this. My stay here on Kylem is but a brief reprieve, but a reprieve with a purpose." He leans back against the wall. "My name is Jace Beleren, Ravnica's Guildpact and member of the Gatewatch. I've been away...well, more like in accidental exile...on Ixalan for the past several months, and am just catching up on the state of the multiverse. As you can expect, I've got a lot on my plate. Some major, some minor, little of this, little of that." He tilts his hands for emphasis. "Kylem is a beacon for young planeswalkers, eager to test their mettle, just as you all have done. I am looking to put together a team to help me with an issue. Not too big, but it's not a problem I can just let fester."
Marcellus steps from the wash room, half washed and stark nude. Blood and possibly saliva stream down his form and slop onto the locker room grounds as he moves. "You're a right cryptic bastard aren't ya Jace?" Marcellus says as he dries his face with a towel near by. "Making a big show of waiting for us and dropping official sounding names like 'Guildpact' and 'Gatewatch'." He spits on the ground in the direction of Jace and makes an exaggerated curtsy. "You sound like a pompous government official we were fighting against on Kaladesh together." Marcellus rolls his eyes as he turns toward the rest of the group which he hardly knows. Thumbing toward Jace he says, "He's good people, just a bit too dramatic. A much better person than myself and you all just fought with me! If our combat together instilled any trust towards me, he deserves much more." As Marcellus is walking back toward the wash room he shouts over his shoulder, "Jace, once you finish your presentation to convince these others to help, I'd like to know if you have checked up on Kaladesh recently. I accidentally 'walked' here a week before the big push that was being planned." There is a distinct trail of diluted blood following Marcellus. Along with the splashing sounds of bathing, others might hear a murmur of, "Jace and his showmanship." followed by soft chuckles.
Bill collapses in a heap on the ground. Unconscious and gaspingevery labored breath he struggles to keep his eyes open.
Death Save: 13
Frustrated at his lack of concentration, and not knowing if that's a normal problem for him, he lashes out at the creature again with both his sword-arms.
Attack: 25 Damage: 10
Hunters Mark for hit: 3
crit on hunter's mark: 1
Attack: 8 Damage: 4
Hunters Mark for hit: 6
"And the Champions have rallied back! Zndrsplt has scored their first point! It is now 3-1 in favor of the Misfits!" The referees similarly work their magic on Bill, reviving him but leaving him too dazed to fight this round.
With a renewed sense of vigor, feeling the match slowly start to even out, Alloy slashes at Toothy once again. Aiming for the already large wound dealt by Orion's wolf Lyca, Alloy's two well-placed slashes are enough to bring the imaginary beast down once again.
"But the Misfits answer with a kill of their own! 4-1 in their favor! If the Champions don't come together, it's all over but the shouting, folks!" Toothy soon rises back, saved by homunculus magic, more enraged than ever.
A grumble emerges form Marcellus as the safety mechanisms bring this toothy monstrosity back up.
"Getting up was a mistake" Marcellus says, then goes in to lay out this creature once more.
Dagger Attack: 12 Damage: 10
If the creature is down, Marcellus will move south to the boy that was with this monster and shield bash him in the face. If monster isn't down, he will shield bash monster to ensure it goes down.
Shield Bash: 6 Damage: 5
"This competition lacks stakes" Orion grumbles, before issuing an attack command to Lyca to help Marcellus.
16
7
Both of Marcellus' attacks miss, Toothy able to swat the attacks away with ease. Lyca, however, manages a skillful lunge at one of Toothy's tentacles, ripping one of them off.
Toothy, instinctually, goes for Lyca, but Pir redirects that instinct towards Marcellus, hoping to help the Champions overcome their point deficit. Concentrating, Pir increases Toothy's size temporarily and causes the imaginary monster to lash out towards Marcellus. It wraps two of its tentacles around Marcellus' waist and pulls the Innistradi thug into its toothy maw. He immediately takes 12 points of damage as the teeth gnash on his body. On his next turn, Marcellus will need to make a strength (STR) check to break out.
Korkuth sees this and screams in triumph. Gaining a burst of energy and defiance, he flings a tooth at Alloy's face, but it harmlessly bounces off.
Okaun smiles up at Zndrsplt, congratulating her on the point scored, before punching Orion once again, dealing 7 points of bludgeoning damage.
Zndrsplt notices Bill getting back up after her magic missiles knocked him down. Wanting him to stay down, she aims a ray of frost his direction, but it veers off course as Okaun's shoulders tremble with the punch, turning the back wall into solid ice instead.
This bout was going on longer than Vojmir had expected. These champions must not be as tough and hale as they were touted. Or it could be that there was a child amongst them. In either case, the skirmish was wearing him down. At least this wouldn't end up with him worrying about the Blessed Sleep or whatever could pass for it here with all the racket. Another flash of flames licks his fingers and surges into Okaun and Zndrsplt. And then he dashes right up besides the brute and spellslinger. He'd always had a knack for avoiding a ghoulcallers foul attacks when he was within easy axing distance.
One more Burning Hands 8
Vojmir has Advantage on Spells cast against him within 5'
Going to use Warding Flare as a reaction on Okaun if Vojmir is attacked by him, otherwise use reaction to smack Zndrsplt when she casts a spell.
"And Okaun is down! I repeat, the Eye of Chaos himself is down! Just one more point, and the Misfits will have their victory!" Zndrsplt, burned with the full force of the spell, falls into the dust beside her partner, timidly staring at Vojmir and Orion, feeling vulnerable without her partner's protection. The referees soon scramble to revive Okaun, but Zndrsplt still lies vulnerable.
With no better option available to him, Al renews his attack on Toothy with Hunter's Mark still active, hoping to end this quickly.
Attack: 16 Damage: 9
Attack: 14 Damage: 12
Alloy misjudges the distance on the first attack, but uses that to skillfully strike again, critically wounding Toothy.
Dagger attack toothy
To hit: 18
Damage + sneak: 9
Off hand attack
To hit: 19
Damage: 7
Marcellus bursts through Toothy's chest, splitting the beast open on the arena floor.
"And just like that, it's over folks! The Misfits have won 6-1! It's a rout!"
The crowd cheers as healing magic floods the arena, bringing all the combatants back up to full health. Pir helps Korkuth up off the dirt and ushers his teammates into a line. "We'll get 'em next time, champ," Okaun says, tossling the orc kid's mohawk. The Champions walk over to you all, offering their hands to shake.
"Well fought, strangers. Looking forward to a rematch," Pir tells Marcellus.
Marcellus's face distorts into a mask of surprise. "You are looking forward to a rematch? Who does this kind of activity for fun? That damned earth rumble at the start hurt pretty damn bad! Ya'll are weird."
Marcellus looks toward his party. "Did any of you all enjoy that? I'm never a fan of fighting even if I am good at it."
Letting out a hefty sigh of relief, Vojmir takes a moment to rest before responding to Marcellus's complaint. "A bout of training does the body good. It helps keep you sharp when you are tested. *Woo*. I perhaps should have started with something a little less strenuous."
He stows his sheild and axe before consoling the small orc. "You did well for one so young. Much longer and our metal member would have been in need of repairs himself." The youth reminded him....of things he'd rather stay buried. But he could at least offer the lad a bit of brightness for now.
"This is our job! We fight for honor and glory. And, of course, our fans," Okaun says, gently wrapping his arm around the young orc.
Your challengers walk away, leaving you to bask in the glory of your victory. After a few moments, the crowd begins to disperse and the announcer, now on your level, ushers you back into the locker room. Just as he shuts the door, you notice a dark blue shimmer in the far corner of the room, revealing a man in a dark blue hood, covered in light blue hooks and dots.
"Well fought, planeswalkers," he says, flipping his hood back to reveal a a thin white face, topped with tousled black hair.
Crossing his arms, Marcellus gives the waiting visitor a flat look. "Don't go labeling me like that blue boy."
There is only a brief pause before Marcellus heads towards a locker and starts to strip down in preparation for a shower.
The rush of the crowd fades as Vojmir and the others are led from the arena, leaving a stillness in the air. A stillness that is soon broken by a most unexpected visitor with unlooked for news. His eyes flare as the newcomers words sink in. That was why the hunter's timbre had seemed familiar. The man was from Vojmir's own Plane. Surely Marcellus would have recognized him as one of his own as well, Vojmir still bore the mark of Avacyn's church upon his clothes.
Whatever Marcellus's reasons for staying silent, they would have to wait till later. Vojmir had to deal with this new stranger. "I think there is little use in denying it. The label fits and we do not fit here. I don't suppose you came here just to congratulate us, could have done that without such a flashy entrance. Are you sure you don't belong here?" The man had Vojmir slightly on edge. Honeyed words could be a trap to lower his guard or to swindle him.
"No no, I come from a place far more war-torn than this. My stay here on Kylem is but a brief reprieve, but a reprieve with a purpose." He leans back against the wall. "My name is Jace Beleren, Ravnica's Guildpact and member of the Gatewatch. I've been away...well, more like in accidental exile...on Ixalan for the past several months, and am just catching up on the state of the multiverse. As you can expect, I've got a lot on my plate. Some major, some minor, little of this, little of that." He tilts his hands for emphasis. "Kylem is a beacon for young planeswalkers, eager to test their mettle, just as you all have done. I am looking to put together a team to help me with an issue. Not too big, but it's not a problem I can just let fester."
Marcellus steps from the wash room, half washed and stark nude. Blood and possibly saliva stream down his form and slop onto the locker room grounds as he moves.
"You're a right cryptic bastard aren't ya Jace?" Marcellus says as he dries his face with a towel near by. "Making a big show of waiting for us and dropping official sounding names like 'Guildpact' and 'Gatewatch'." He spits on the ground in the direction of Jace and makes an exaggerated curtsy. "You sound like a pompous government official we were fighting against on Kaladesh together."
Marcellus rolls his eyes as he turns toward the rest of the group which he hardly knows. Thumbing toward Jace he says, "He's good people, just a bit too dramatic. A much better person than myself and you all just fought with me! If our combat together instilled any trust towards me, he deserves much more."
As Marcellus is walking back toward the wash room he shouts over his shoulder, "Jace, once you finish your presentation to convince these others to help, I'd like to know if you have checked up on Kaladesh recently. I accidentally 'walked' here a week before the big push that was being planned." There is a distinct trail of diluted blood following Marcellus. Along with the splashing sounds of bathing, others might hear a murmur of, "Jace and his showmanship." followed by soft chuckles.