(if brain can arrive to chime in) "The Lame Asses, that's what our name should be. And yes I'm serious, it'll make people underestimate us and it makes for a fun joke that makes the name stick in your head, so even if we lose we'll be a crowd favorite" Brain, not being very charismatic, says this like everyone is going to listen to him anyway
"Brain, you know I love ye, but we ain't going by that name." She looks at Hew. "Not by The Victors, either," she half scowls, half looks exasperated. She looks back at her small friend. "We all want to leave Ventissa. Some of us are desperate for it. Why not Exitor?"
"Exitor," the red-headed dwarf says with finality to the attendant. She watches as he scribbles in his logbook. "You need to know anything else, or are we free to go?"
"Exitor," the red-headed dwarf says with finality to the attendant. She watches as he scribbles in his logbook. "You need to know anything else, or are we free to go?"
"Exitor," the attendant says. "Vague. Yet... ominous. I like it. Be back here at 3 hours past noon. Don't be late."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
14 intelligence check (add +2 if arcana or history is appropriate)
“We won’t be late” says Vexha, thinking to herself she can’t afford to do anything else anyway.
She studies the wizard host of the tournament if she can get where she can see him, and his strange familiar, perhaps? She wonders quietly. Thinking back to her studies and her own experiences with horrors she dare not name, she tries to recall if she’s ever seen or read about a beast like this before.
"Don't know" Brain says as off people were talking to him. He's idly scratches at the dirt writing "Help a brother win a job and there is a gold piece in it for you" in Thieves Cant
Eurkan ponders the name. He didn't have a very strong reason to leave this town, though he didn't have a great reason to stay in it either. Mostly, he wished for the money. Not that he cared that much for the name, and he didn't have any ideas either. He silently nods while the others are discussing it. "Should we stay here, or should we go somewhere? If we stay here, we might see other groups, but they will see us too."
Brunhelga notices Brain scratching in the dirt and scowls down at him. She tries to make out what he's doing, but it all looks like nonsense to her. She shrugs, figuring he's up to something she'll learn about later. Turning to Eurkan, she frowns before addressing the group as a whole. "Does anyone need to purchase anything to prepare for the fight? Supplies? Armor? Weapons?"
21 intelligence check (add +2 if arcana or history is appropriate)
“We won’t be late” says Vexha, thinking to herself she can’t afford to do anything else anyway.
She studies the wizard host of the tournament if she can get where she can see him, and his strange familiar, perhaps? She wonders quietly. Thinking back to her studies and her own experiences with horrors she dare not name, she tries to recall if she’s ever seen or read about a beast like this before.
”Now where is that halfling?l”
You can tell the creature is a natural animal touched by magic, and not some minor eldritch horror. It is simply an animal species you have never seen or heard of before.
"I have everything I need, a Cragbind always comes prepared. I'm not certain our halfling friend is going to show up, and I can't say I'm surprised, though it is quite rude to scamper off with someone's signet ring and break a verbal contract. I suggest we stay here and rest until the competition is to begin, in case we catch sight of him."
Hew promptly unfurls his fur-lined bedroll in the dirt and sits down, freezing a small disc of ice into place on the ground in front of him, playing with forms and shapes and colors in a somewhat meditative exercise.
After lingering near the arena entrance for a while, you notice what appears to be another team of adventurers approaching: 2 male dwarves, a male halfling, and a male human.
One of the dwarves, with dark bronze skin and a bright orange beard that spills out in braids over his black scale armor, appears to be the leader:
Beside him, careful to keep a single step behind, is the human man. He has leathery skin, with black hair and a short-cropped beard, both streaked with grey. He wears a breastplate of thick hide over his white robes.
The halfling, loaded down with cooking gear and sporting thick red muttonchops, scrambles cheerily behind them,
and the remaining dwarf, much younger than the red-haired leader, has his thick black beard braided into a single rope beneath ruddy cheeks and stone-grey eyes. He appears to be a warrior of some kind.
All of them display the same sigil somewhere in their dress: a pair of crossed pickaxes in black over a gray field with a white pale.
Brain raises his eyebrows at the approaching group. He makes eye contact with the lead dwarf and does an upward nod before returning to shore up his scratchings
Hew watches the group pass by, wondering if the human man will showcase any magical abilities in the arena; We will have to wait and see, he thinks to himself, and turns back to his meditation. "Know thine enemy" rings through his head, but he quickly dismisses it. An all out brawl won't benefit much from amateur tactitionry. Any alliances formed with other fighters would hold up only until it became disadvantageous for either side, which is an absolute certainty. Much better to reserve his energy than to make nice with strangers he will only have to bury under vines in a few hours. The Exitors will simply have to hope for the best and try to remain adaptive and responsive to each other in the heat of the moment. It's in fate's hands now. His cloudy eyes close as Hew leans back on his bedroll, breathing in the sunshine and trying to relax himself before the impending violence.
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(if brain can arrive to chime in) "The Lame Asses, that's what our name should be. And yes I'm serious, it'll make people underestimate us and it makes for a fun joke that makes the name stick in your head, so even if we lose we'll be a crowd favorite" Brain, not being very charismatic, says this like everyone is going to listen to him anyway
"Brain, you know I love ye, but we ain't going by that name." She looks at Hew. "Not by The Victors, either," she half scowls, half looks exasperated. She looks back at her small friend. "We all want to leave Ventissa. Some of us are desperate for it. Why not Exitor?"
Vexha, catching on to the conversation, says “Exitor much better- and doesn’t say much about us. When does this start?”
"I like it" Brain says around his pipe
"Do let's get on with it, I have no interest in remaining in town for much longer."
Hew looks around for Finn Strongale, the halfling beggar the party had previously sent on a mission to scout out the arena.
"Exitor," the red-headed dwarf says with finality to the attendant. She watches as he scribbles in his logbook. "You need to know anything else, or are we free to go?"
There is no sign of Finn Strongale.
"Exitor," the attendant says. "Vague. Yet... ominous. I like it. Be back here at 3 hours past noon. Don't be late."
14 intelligence check (add +2 if arcana or history is appropriate)
“We won’t be late” says Vexha, thinking to herself she can’t afford to do anything else anyway.
She studies the wizard host of the tournament if she can get where she can see him, and his strange familiar, perhaps? She wonders quietly. Thinking back to her studies and her own experiences with horrors she dare not name, she tries to recall if she’s ever seen or read about a beast like this before.
”Now where is that halfling?l”
"Don't know" Brain says as off people were talking to him. He's idly scratches at the dirt writing "Help a brother win a job and there is a gold piece in it for you" in Thieves Cant
Eurkan ponders the name. He didn't have a very strong reason to leave this town, though he didn't have a great reason to stay in it either. Mostly, he wished for the money. Not that he cared that much for the name, and he didn't have any ideas either. He silently nods while the others are discussing it. "Should we stay here, or should we go somewhere? If we stay here, we might see other groups, but they will see us too."
Varielky
Brunhelga notices Brain scratching in the dirt and scowls down at him. She tries to make out what he's doing, but it all looks like nonsense to her. She shrugs, figuring he's up to something she'll learn about later. Turning to Eurkan, she frowns before addressing the group as a whole. "Does anyone need to purchase anything to prepare for the fight? Supplies? Armor? Weapons?"
"I am always ready." Fondak says flatly, looking again at the group and evaluating their chances.
PbP 🎲: Tyekanik; Moneo Noree; Korba Muris; & occasional DM:
You can tell the creature is a natural animal touched by magic, and not some minor eldritch horror. It is simply an animal species you have never seen or heard of before.
Still no sign of the halfing. ;)
"I have everything I need, a Cragbind always comes prepared. I'm not certain our halfling friend is going to show up, and I can't say I'm surprised, though it is quite rude to scamper off with someone's signet ring and break a verbal contract. I suggest we stay here and rest until the competition is to begin, in case we catch sight of him."
Hew promptly unfurls his fur-lined bedroll in the dirt and sits down, freezing a small disc of ice into place on the ground in front of him, playing with forms and shapes and colors in a somewhat meditative exercise.
PLACEHOLDER. Just to let you know I'm not neglecting the thread!
Brain decides it best to just wait for the competition here "Y'all want to explore go ahead, I will sit and wait for the haf'n
After lingering near the arena entrance for a while, you notice what appears to be another team of adventurers approaching: 2 male dwarves, a male halfling, and a male human.
One of the dwarves, with dark bronze skin and a bright orange beard that spills out in braids over his black scale armor, appears to be the leader:
Beside him, careful to keep a single step behind, is the human man. He has leathery skin, with black hair and a short-cropped beard, both streaked with grey. He wears a breastplate of thick hide over his white robes.
The halfling, loaded down with cooking gear and sporting thick red muttonchops, scrambles cheerily behind them,
and the remaining dwarf, much younger than the red-haired leader, has his thick black beard braided into a single rope beneath ruddy cheeks and stone-grey eyes. He appears to be a warrior of some kind.
All of them display the same sigil somewhere in their dress: a pair of crossed pickaxes in black over a gray field with a white pale.
The Rockbreakers, you presume....
Brain raises his eyebrows at the approaching group. He makes eye contact with the lead dwarf and does an upward nod before returning to shore up his scratchings
Hew watches the group pass by, wondering if the human man will showcase any magical abilities in the arena; We will have to wait and see, he thinks to himself, and turns back to his meditation. "Know thine enemy" rings through his head, but he quickly dismisses it. An all out brawl won't benefit much from amateur tactitionry. Any alliances formed with other fighters would hold up only until it became disadvantageous for either side, which is an absolute certainty. Much better to reserve his energy than to make nice with strangers he will only have to bury under vines in a few hours. The Exitors will simply have to hope for the best and try to remain adaptive and responsive to each other in the heat of the moment. It's in fate's hands now. His cloudy eyes close as Hew leans back on his bedroll, breathing in the sunshine and trying to relax himself before the impending violence.