Mica asks the bartender for a mug of Tej, he was quickly growing fond of the local drink, and listened closely as Wakanga shared both the history and current dangers of the jungle. Hordes of undead, including dinosaurs? It was not natural. Surely here was a chance to protect the people of the city from the dangers that lurk in the wild. He listens with interest as Wakanga offers to pay for certain information or treasures from the jungle, but snorts as Ekene-Afa mentions the fights “I did not travel here to fight in a ring of stone, my path leads to the jungle.” He realizes too late who he is talking to and is thankful when Velan politely refuses the offer with much greater respect.
He takes his drink out to the balcony as the fight begins, watching the dinosaurs with great interest to learn more about how they fight. He may be facing them soon enough. The poor warriors seemed outmatched. It would be interesting to see how long they lasted, but this fight did not seem sporting, for the warriors or the creatures.
As they watch, he leans over to Danica “Seems you are not overly fond of the Fist. Have you crossed paths with them in the past?”
Raising an amused eyebrow at Velan's emphasis on the emissaries centuries ago, she simply stated, "Depending on how many, I might have been alive at the time. So too might the other eleven. You raise a good point though. I'm not nearly well versed in the arcane arts as you seem to be." Deferring to the more learned man before something that Wakanga said rang a bell. She had spent her days while traveling to Chult, helping around on the ship but since it was fully manned, there was only so much she could do at any given time. Which gave her time to pour over the map that she had been given. And something about the name Mezro rung a familiar bell. She'd have to check on it later.
Personally she was of the same mind as Mica, though it might have been stated a little gentler given their company. And at his pointed question, albeit said to the side in a lower voice, the elf couldn't help but to suck her teeth for a moment before taking a long slow and steadying inhale, holding it a moment before finally letting out a, "Aye."Her hand gripping one of the top most spokes of her oddly formed shield that she had resting against the stone ledge at the moment. Meeting the warrior's eyes she then murmured, "Later." Green eyes flicking away from his as she cast about her gaze down below to the fight, not so much interested as looking for a distraction for her mind.
Meili gave her usual short bow to Velan. "I apologize if my words offended you. They were not meant to be about people who came as guests of the land. I am but one humble monk, who came to find the cure for the problem that affects all lands. I do not seek anything in the jungle other than the source of the plague. So does others here, even if the motive is different. Flaming Fist is a big organization that already built a Fort on the land that does not belong to them. They take what they can from the land and send it back home. They bring their law here rather than accepting existing traditions. Do hope you are right about Shago and his vision."
It was the longest speech Meili gave so far and it did not sound confrontational - at least neither pose nor tone indicated it, merely an explanation. "You should be right, of course, about the plague." This time the tone was far less confident. Even if correlation does not imply causation - who knows the ways of magic? How long would it take for one to transform into another? Meili did not know, and though trusted people more familiar with the matter had her suspicions.
Mica looks at Danica and nods “Later, then.” Turning his attention back to the ‘games’ below, he leans back in his seat and takes a long drink of his Tej. He leans over to Ran “The shield is unwieldy in this type of fight and offers little protection against a beast. He will be the first to go down. How do you think they trapped these creatures anyway?”
He pauses, watching more of the fight before continuing with a different subject “So, any idea why your man went into the jungle with these white robed wizards?”
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Ran watches the large lizards approach the gladiators.
"They could have caught them when they were young," Ran suggests. "Easier to catch a little one and raise it to fight I would think. Though you'd have to rattle ya dags to scoop the little ones before the mother showed up."
He listens to the next question and and turns from looking at the arena floor to face Mica directly.
"He's a right pretentious twit who fancies himself a budding wizard. No idea why he's in the jungle though," Ran says. "His brains will be bugger all help when I get a hold of him. I'll send him back to his uncle in a box. If he's not too much of an ass I might even punch a few breathing holes in the lid. He just better not have done anything to my sister."
Ekene-Afa laughs at Danica’squestion about odds. “It really depends on the fighter. I suspect these two have bitten off more than they can chew. But if more skilled warriors were involved? That would be a different story. If it were Taban and Shago down there, they would already be skinning those lizards to make boots as fine as Volo’s.” She smirks as she says the last bit, though Volo doesn’t betray any hint of insecurity about his fashion choices. She nods with respect at Mica's comments about shields as the fight unfolds below.
It is over fast. The spearman uses good footwork to sidestep the jaws of one of the Dimetrodons, and then plunges his spear into its neck, blood spurting as the creature rolls away and then lies still. He braces for the next attack but it does not come. Instead, his second Dimetrodon bypasses him entirely and races toward the man with the shield. Occupied with the two monsters in front of him, he is caught by surprise and dragged down from behind. The man's scream echoes across the stadium before the roar of the crowd drowns it out. It is a grisly scene, as the three remaining beasts fall upon the prone man and literally rip him into pieces. The spearman tries to take advantage of their distraction and launches an attack at the side of one of the feeding monsters, but either it was a poor strike or the creature's hide deflected the blade. All his attack succeeds in doing is turn the Dimetrodons attention back to him. They advance on him slowly and he begins to backpedal. After sidestepping several bites, he furiously waves one arm in the air. "Quitting already," says Ekene-Afa, sounding disappointed. The man continues to backpedal towards one of the portcullises, using his spear to buy him space until he is allowed to exit but arena handlers. The Dimetrodons soon return leisurely to the other man's corpse and resume feeding, until more handlers with ropes and nets emerge to recapture them. It takes nearly half an hour to wrangle the beasts and clean up the mess.
In the meantime, and given the group’s interest, Wakanga continues his history lesson. The emissaries of Ubtao - the Barae they were called – were powerful paladins. It is said that Ubtao’s power stayed with them even after he abandoned this world and despite being mortal humans, they were very long-lived. Mezro fell and collapsed into ruin more than a century ago, but the undead had been raised much earlier. The scholars disagree on when exactly, as all the records in Mezro were lost, but it is generally agreed to have been at least 220 years ago.
“As to this death curse, I cannot say if it is related to the unmentionable one’s armies or not. But it is novel, and we have no tales of such a curse that I have ever heard.” His demeanor becomes more subdued. “I have lost a friend to this curse. She was a powerful mage, a woman of great reknown in the continental city of Waterdeep. When the curse arose some months ago, she was among the first to travel here. She brought with her a small band of champions who ventured into the jungle on her behalf, seeking the source. Sadly, they did not return, and I watched my friend slowly fade away. After four weeks, she was gone…”.
Ekene-Afa weighs in on the Flaming Fist argument. “My sentiment is in line with the little lady,” she says, looking toward Meili. “The outsiders come here for their own profit, not for the good of Chult. At present, we are not strong enough to drive out the foreign influence. I would even go so far as to say we need it, for now. But only for now. As a fighter in the arena, I was used by many. And for as much gold and glory as I earned, my handlers and managers earned more. But I only let myself be used until I had enough coin and enough of a reputation to strike out on my own, and now look at me… born a beggar and now with my own seat in the Goldenthrone.” She beams with pride. “It will be this way with the Flaming Fist. We will tolerate them as long as we must, but there will come a day when Chult rises as its own power, and charts its own destiny. And on that day it will not only be the Flaming Fist who are expelled, but all the foreign powers who meddle in our land. The Zhentarim. The Lord’s Alliance. The Harpers.” She looks pointedly at Wakanga when she says this last bit, though not with malice. Wakanga gives her a knowing look in return, but says nothing.
Ekene-Afa shrugs at Ran’squestion about the Soshenstar, but Wakanga has something to add. “It is said there is an area several days upriver where the jungle recedes and the river is surrounded by sandy flats. The Bloody Beaches. The river there is said to be full of crocodiles, and the shoreline patrolled by many dimetrodons. A very dangerous place.”
Ekene-Afa does not show any sign of offense at Mica’swords.
In response to Velan’squestion, Wakanga replies that any of the merchants who serve them can pass along a message or request a meeting. You can also attempt to reach either of them at their villas in the Merchant Ward. “Does your little band have a name, such that we will know who is seeking an audience with us?”
With the first event’s carnage finally cleared away, the second act begins. A narrow wooden beam is raised to a height of 12 ft above the arena floor, and a nimble, athletic looking Chultan woman ascends, to the cheers of the crowd. Another portcullis opens, and a new beast emerges.
At first glance, it seems to be some sort of large flightless bird but as it moves and you get a closer look you soon realize it is a fast, bipedal predatory dinosaur a little shorter than a human and about 10 feet long from nose to tail. It might occur to some of you that many of the feathers for sale in the markets or part of the headresses you have seen on locals were actually from dinosaurs like this, rather than birds. A Deinonychus, Volo points out. It races at incredible speed and leaps into the air, jaws clearing the top of the beam and snapping shut, just inches away from the woman who moves deftly aside. This event, it turns out, is less a fight than a duel of acrobatics. The dinosaur continues to leap and attack with seemingly limitless energy, while the woman dodges, jumps, and does flips on the beam to avoid the attacks, always landing with cat-like grace. The audience is on the edge of its seat, gasping and cheering as the creature seems to have her, only for her to leap out of its grasp at the last moment. After five minutes of thrills, a group of handlers emerge and lasso the beast, and remove it from the arena. The woman does a bow to the adoring crowd before climbing down and departing herself. Any one who paid more attention to Volo than to the event would have heard him describe these creatures as smart, aggressive hunters that usual work in small family groups of 3 to 5 animals. A smaller cousin, the Velociraptor, is less dangerous individually but tends to hunt in much larger packs, of sometimes up to a dozen.
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Meili did listen, of course! Dinosaurs were fascinating on their own but if you know you are about to face them in the jungle, you would try to learn as much as possible. It was so interesting, in fact, that although Danica was clearly busy talking right now, Meili still dared to ask "Do you think we can ask Mr. Volo to join us? His book is a bit... expensive, but his knowledge is so useful."
Apparently you must have heard a thing or two about all of these groups in your travels, or perhaps your mentors told you about them over the years...
Zhentarim: Also called the Black Network, this is an old organization with roots that date back to old para-military orders that fought over the Moonsea region of Faerun as far back as the Time of Troubles. In modern times they have reformed themselves into a continent-wide affiliation of contracted fighters and tradesmen. Whether it be caravan guards, personal security details, or private armies, the Zhentarim promise to deliver the best men, at the cheapest price, on the quickest turnaround. Along with their public face as purveyors of fighters for hire, they also maintain many 'off the books' enterprises. You may very well have even known some smugglers or pirates in their employ. The Zhentarim have agents of all varieties, from courtly diplomats and negotiators, to spies and assassins. Their symbol is an inverted flying snake, which also resembles the shape of a dagger.
Lords Alliance: A loose coalition of rulers, primarily from the northern part of Faerun. These lords have come together out of a belief that mutual aid and cooperation is necessary to keep evil and chaos at bay. All of the great cities of northern Faerun count themselves members, though each always looks out for its own interests, first and foremost, and maintains its own independent agents along with those it contributes to the Lords Alliance. The organization's chief belief is that civilization and prosperity is key and it can be besy supported by bringing stability and peace to all places, by force if necessary. Their symbol is a crown.
Harpers: The Harpers are a semi-secret organization dedicated to promoting good, preserving history (including art and music of old), and maintaining a balance between civilization and nature by keeping kingdoms small and the destruction of animal and plant life to a minimum. In practice... you find that Harper agents tend to be romantic fools, overly impressed with their own struggles and possessed of a belief that they are the saviors of the Realms. There is also a long, bloody feud between the Zhentarim and the Harpers, with both sides blaming the other. The Harpers claim the Zhentarim are black-hearted agents of evil and despotism, while the Zhentarim claim the Harpers are insane idiots. The Harpers symbol is a harp tucked between the points of a crescent moon.
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
After the second act comes to an end, arena staff begin preparing the stage for the main event. Meanwhile, Volo makes small talk with the Merchant Princes, mostly with Wakanga O-Tamu. It seems Volo was also acquainted with the mage who succumbed to the death curse, and he inquires after the circumstances of her passing.
Below, teams of men pull heavy chains, raising portions of the arena floor to creates walls, or to reveal spike filled pits. Other panels are removed to reveal shallow channels, into which braziers of hot coals are poured. When they are finished, the center of the arena floor has been transformed into a shape like an "X", surrounded by hazards.
Into the arena, marches a figure you all recognize; the gladiator Taban. He is bare chested, with a leather skirt. He wears a different, bulkier leather pauldron on his shoulder than the one he wore when you fought, and it looks like that shoulder may be bandaged underneath. He carries two of the cane-like sticks he neglected to use in his battle with you. When he is introduced, the crowd goes wild, chanting his name and stomping their feet such that the whole coliseum seems to shake.
From the opposite side, a half dozen knights enter through an open portcullis. Instead of the usual chainmail or half-plate, these knights wear a mix of leather and cloth armor around a steel breastplate. Some appear to have included local flavorings as well, with feathers and bone accoutrements woven into their gear. They each carry a banner:
Behind them walks a tall Chultan warrior, no armor hiding his dusky skin, but a cloak with the same coat of arms flowing behind him and a full steel helm covering his face. He carries a yklwa and a small shield.
One of the other knights steps forward and declares: "Presenting... honored son and heir of Merchant Prince Zanthi... descendant of the last of the royal houses of Chult... proud holder of the provisionary rank of Fist in the Flaming Fist company... and the greatest warrior this coliseum has ever seen... the mighty Shago!" As his name is called, the man called Shago removes his helm to reveal the face of a young man, not more than 20. He wears a broad smile and the sides of his head are clean shaven, leaving a short mohawk down the center. He casts off his cloak, tossing it to one of the knights and then he waves to the crowd. The wave turns into a flex, and the flex turns into a little dance. The crowd is split. Many cheer loudly for him, and an attempt is made to generate a chant of his name, but it does not have the strength of the prior chants for Taban. There are also many who disapprove, and the boos sound off louder than the cheers. A few spectators even try to throw fruit at the young gladiator, but none have strength of arm to reach him and their missiles fall harmlessly to the arena floor.
Soon, wooden foot bridges are laid down across the hazards to allow Taban and Shago to enter the "x", and then removed. The two men approach, salute one another with a hard punch to the chest, and then back off thirty paces and square off, seemingly waiting on some signal.
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Mica watches the next dinosaur leap and jump after the acrobat while listening closely to Volo’s lesson. He intended to learn as much about these creatures as he could before he had to face them himself. He nods as Meili asks about Volo “He is full of useful knowledge, that is certain, but”Mica looks at Volo’s boots and clothing and adds in a low whisper “I am not sure how he will fare in the jungle, or in a fight.” He pauses and looks at Meili “Do you truly believe the cure to this Death Curse can be found in the jungle? Why do you search for it?”
As Shago enters the arena surrounded by the banners of the flaming fist Mica chuckles “A bit full of himself, isn’t he? But quite the showman, I wonder how he fights.” He considers the introduction for a minute before asking “Who is this Prince Zanthi? Does he support the Fist?”
Meili's eyes opened wide at the sudden question (she still had to master the proper control of emotions). She tilted her head slightly looking at Mica with surprise. "Don't you have anyone dear to you who might die and would not be ever returned? Even worse, the very soul of that dear dead one will be destroyed instead of finding peace beyond the realm of mortals. Don't you care that your soul will be gone should something kill you now? You are the lucky one if none of this bothers you. Someone very dear to me is ill and many people who come for help to our monastery are in deep fear now too. I do what I have to for them. The best scholars of Faerun found that the source of the curse is here. I asked many. The divine priest confirmed it too. The source is there, in the jungles. Yes, I believe if the source is destroyed, that will be the cure. But this is a good question, that we can ask the divine tomorrow morning". She smiled then and added quietly, so Volo could not hear. "Mr. Volo says he travelled the jungle himself to write his book. He might be quite the help in the journey."
Shago did not impress Meili that much. True strength does not need to brag. And as expected, the quiet invasion of the Fist was invited by one of the Princes. That was a passing thought, though, Meili was now completely lost in the show - Taban was about to show his true skills and boastful or not, his opponent did look like a good fighter too.
Ran puts his feet up on an empty chair, crossing his legs as he does and settles in to watch the next match.
He's staying out of most of the discussions going on around him. It's admirable that all of these people are intent on helping others and solving this curse, but that sounds way above him. Find his sister and find the brat and life might start getting back to normal.
He does watch the Flaming Fist closely. You don't run into them much in Waterdeep.
"Bit of a poncy group if you ask me," Ran says aloud gesturing at the Flaming Fist. "Think they're awfully special."
He considers the introduction for a minute before asking “Who is this Prince Zanthi? Does he support the Fist?”
"She," answers Wakanga. "And Zanthi's mind is something of an enigma. Her family descends from the last of the royal dynasties. And so, she and her kin were kept as... special guests... of our Amnish overlords while they held control of our land. She was raised in their courts and learned the game of politics and intrigue better so than the rest of us Princes. On the one hand, she publicly bemoans the betrayal of her son in siding so openly with the foreigners. While on the other hand, she is known to host and entertain him and his knightly friends when they visit from Fort Beluarian. I wonder if even Shago knows where his mother's heart truly lies on the matter?"
Below the fighters continue to hold stances, until a loud drum sounds three times. Shago says something to Taban, though it is impossible to hear from this distance. The older man roars with fury and charges, and the battle begins. The crowd is electric and most of the spectators are on their feet, calling out the name of their preferred champion.
For all of Taban's speed you witnessed earlier, Shago is noticeably faster, avoiding most of the blows thrown by the larger man. But Taban has a clear edge in strength - one strike which Shago blocks with his shield still comes close to knocking him off of his feet. The battle is as much about positioning and spatial awareness as it is about combat... one false step could send either combatant tumbling into one of the traps lining the arena. So far, neither gladiator has gained an upper hand.
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
If Danica can overhear Mica's comment to Ran about the man in the gladiator pit's shield being too unwieldly, she will frown and thumb a spoke of her own odd shield self consciously.
It interested Danica to see that the surviving man was allowed to surrender and flee to safety, doubly so that the strange reptilian creatures, Dimetrodons, were also safely returned to wherever they were being kept until the next time their hunger was needed. During the cleanup, she listened to the continued history lesson, seemingly unbothered by the dead man in the coliseum, before things turned a bit more somber at the personal note. Still the urge to mention this 'unmentionable one' was itching at her. A frown tugging on the corners of the sailor's lips, she intoned, "I'm sorry for your and the world's loss of her. I'm here on behalf of...a friend of sorts myself. For his sake, I have to ask, do you know how long it was between when she first knew and her passing?" Her wording was as delicate as possible, yet she held a serious gaze as she awaited his answer.
Hearing Ekene-Afa speak her mind so openly opposed against the Flaming Fists was heartening, though more intriguing was the glances between her and Wakanga at the mention of the Zhentarim, the Lord's Alliance and the Harpers. Most of what she knew about the Lord's Alliance was picked up through her travels over the decades, learning about the cities of the North, coastal and inland. She had little care for them or their politics. But the Zhentarim and the Harpers? That was a different matter. She respected the Zhentarim and their business. Even knew quite a few people in it. The Harpers more closely aligned with her own ideals though. Ideals being the key word and not practices. She'd heard very little good said about anything the Harpers did, even as much as she respected their values. Considering the fact that more than a few either worked for or with the Zhentarim, she kept her thoughts and opinions on the Harpers to herself.
A huff coming out of her nostrils at Wakanga's rhetorical question she answered quietly nonetheless, "Doubtful. Seems most politicians play things close to the chest. Which depending on their company, is wise." She awkwardly nodded at said 'politician', hoping she didn't offend.
Blinking as Meili spoke to her, she tried to focus on the question before glancing to the ostentatiously dressed man in question. "Hm? Y'mean join us....in talk? Or..."She got a surprised look in her eye as she asked for clarification, "Y'don't mean to join us in the jungle?"Grimacing and putting down her plate on a well placed table, Danica took another sip of her drink before saying to the young woman and Mica, "I'll admit, his knowledge would be handy to have at the ready. But I don't particularly fancy trying to keep him alive along with ourselves through whatever we'll be encountering. If he can hold his own, I might feel differently."
When Wakanga asked about their group's name so that they could properly communicate should the need arise, Danica was taking another passive sip before promptly choking on it as Velan looked to her to answer, unaccustomed to being put on the spot she cleared her throat while wiping the wet from her lips. Thinking of the Flaming Fists and all that they did and represented, she tried to think of what kind of impression she'd like people to have of their group and it came to her, "The...helping...hands?" She instinctively glances back at Velan before realizing that she was the official leader and she'd best start acting the part at least. "Yes, The Helping Hands. We're here to help and lend a hand. Or....ten. None of us seem to have a lot in common other than our differences and our willingness to help, at least with this curse. But a good spread makes for a tight group." She raised her drink before looking at Meili, Mica and Ran before finally settling on Velan with a lopsided smile.
After that was settled, Danica was delighted in watchin the acrobats perform and also watching the quick movements of the dinosaur below them, noting its name for later. "Wonder if a Deinonychus would make a good companion?" She asked of Mica with a roguish grin before cocking an inquisitive eyebrow to Volo.
A huff coming out of her nostrils at Wakanga's rhetorical question she answered quietly nonetheless, "Doubtful. Seems most politicians play things close to the chest. Which depending on their company, is wise." She awkwardly nodded at said 'politician', hoping she didn't offend.
And then came the main event that everyone was waiting for. Taban versus Shago. The pageantry that Shago entered with left a bad taste in her mouth and she of course couldn't help but internally root for Taban. The man didn't seem like a bad bloke, even while they had been fighting him. Hopefully his shoulder injury wouldn't put him at too bad a disadvantage. Nodding at Ran's words as she leaned along the balustrade next to the chair he put up his feet she said with distaste, "They generally do, yes. Great Righteous Law Abiding Flaming Fists. Never mind anyone that they think is in their way. Were I a betting woman, I'd put at least five copper on Taban on principle alone." She watched the fight with rapt attention.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Wakanga thinks for a moment at Danica'squestion about the mage. "It is difficult to say. She was here in Port Nyanzaru for about a month before she passed. Prior to that she had teleported herself and her champions here from Waterdeep. I understand she arranged the trip on short order... but exactly how long between the onset of her symptoms and her passing? It is beyond my knowledge. While she was here, we spoke more on the past and better times, than on the topic of her affliction."
He also nods and says 'The Helping Hands' name should be... easy to remember.
As it happens, Volo goes on to mention that some parties do utilize the Deinonychus as trained beast... notably the Flaming Fist. They are known to have a troupe of the dinosaurs at their fort, and they take them out on their sweeps of the jungle, using their keen senses to sniff out undead.
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
The heavyweight fight below plays out in a series of three rounds. After what feels like 2-3 minutes, the drums sound again and the fighters retreat to their original starting positions, pausing to salute the crowds, adjust their gear and catch a breath. With another drumbeat, the battle resumes. Then... another pause and break after 2-3 minutes. When they resume fighting a third time, there is an obvious change in the ferocity and effort put forth by both. And after 2-3 minutes, there is no additional drumbeat, pause, or break in the action.
Volo leans over to explain; the first two rounds are exhibition, to excite the crowds and display the skill of the fighters. It is actually considered a failure of both fighters if one wins during those first two rounds, as they would have failed to give the crowd their money's worth. The final round, however, is for keeps. This will continue on until one of the men submits, can no longer continue... or is killed.
Taban is the aggressor through much of the fight. He uses his two weapons as clubs, but also tries to utilize the curves end to hook Shago's spear, his shield, or his limbs to trip or throw him off balance. The younger man's speed and agility allow him to avoid, duck and dodge the worst of the attacks but after a few minutes he is bleeding from the mouth and his wooden shield is cracked.
Shago seems content at first to let the larger man tire himself out, but Taban's relentless, heavy blows force a change in strategy. Shago begins to attack with aggressiveness of his own, trying to get his short spear inside the big man's guard, though this leaves him more susceptible to attack. There is a furious exchange where Taban blocks a spear thrust from Shago with his shoulder pauldron and deals a devastating combination of blows in response, sending the young man's shield flying and his body tumbling backwards. Shago is slow to regain his feet, but Taban is unable to press the advantage. Blood is now pouring down his arm and he has obvious difficulty lifting the weapon in that hand.
Once he regains his sense, Shago goes back on the assault. He uses his speed and footwork to stay on Taban's weak side, striking out with his spear and forcing Taban to make off balance lunges to try and return attacks with his good arm. Eventually this strategy pays off, as Shago sidesteps a clumsy strike and Taban tumbles off the stage into a shallow pit filled with hot coals. There is a simultaneous gasp from the crowd and a scream of pain from Taban. He throws himself out of the coals and back into the arena, but he is greeted with Shago's spear at his throat. He makes one attempt to swing his remaining club (the other lost in the hot coals) but Shago presses the spearpoint against his neck. With no other option... Taban drops his remaining club and yields.
The crowd - fans of both men - erupt in deafening cheers. Ekene-Afa stands and bellows "Well fought! Well fought!" and claps enthusiastically with her large hands. Shago, wounded and still seemingly a bit dazed, gives a bow to the audience before the Flaming Fist lay down a ramp for him to exit the fighting floor. Meanwhile, Taban struggles to his feet, severe burns visible on his arms and chest. He pushes away several attendees who had emerged to help him, and staggers off the stage and into a portcullis.
As the euphoria of the fights soaks in, the drums begin beating softly in the background and the crowd starts heading for the exits, the last rays of the setting sun sneaking through the gap in the stadium wall.
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM -(Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown *Red Dead Annihilation: ToA *Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Ran watches the fight with interest. He was always the one in the family that was more interested in all aspects of combat. If he could learn anything from these two he would. When Taban submits though, he smiles. He didn't care one way or the other if Taban won, but it was satisfying to think that the group might have affected the outcome of the fight with their encounter earlier today.
He pops up and snags another plateful of food before it disappears.
Danica lets out a disappointed cry as Taban falls into the hot coals and sighs as he yields. "Seems I woulda lost five copper. Ah well." She definitely took note of the shield user's fleet footwork, despite how much she despised those he worked with. She had a grudge but she wasn't blind nor a fool. Hearing Ran ask what the plan was next, Danica turned to the Merchant Princes and held up her very nearly empty glass. "It was a treat meeting you both. We thank you for your hospitality on this impromptu visit and hope to meet again. With any luck, after this curse is dealt with."Trading glances between Velan and Volo she asked, "Heading back to the Thundering Lizard now? Or do you want time to catch up with old friends?" Figuring that if he was heading back now, the least they could do was make sure he got back to the inn without being mugged.
Mica asks the bartender for a mug of Tej, he was quickly growing fond of the local drink, and listened closely as Wakanga shared both the history and current dangers of the jungle. Hordes of undead, including dinosaurs? It was not natural. Surely here was a chance to protect the people of the city from the dangers that lurk in the wild. He listens with interest as Wakanga offers to pay for certain information or treasures from the jungle, but snorts as Ekene-Afa mentions the fights “I did not travel here to fight in a ring of stone, my path leads to the jungle.” He realizes too late who he is talking to and is thankful when Velan politely refuses the offer with much greater respect.
He takes his drink out to the balcony as the fight begins, watching the dinosaurs with great interest to learn more about how they fight. He may be facing them soon enough. The poor warriors seemed outmatched. It would be interesting to see how long they lasted, but this fight did not seem sporting, for the warriors or the creatures.
As they watch, he leans over to Danica “Seems you are not overly fond of the Fist. Have you crossed paths with them in the past?”
Raising an amused eyebrow at Velan's emphasis on the emissaries centuries ago, she simply stated, "Depending on how many, I might have been alive at the time. So too might the other eleven. You raise a good point though. I'm not nearly well versed in the arcane arts as you seem to be." Deferring to the more learned man before something that Wakanga said rang a bell. She had spent her days while traveling to Chult, helping around on the ship but since it was fully manned, there was only so much she could do at any given time. Which gave her time to pour over the map that she had been given. And something about the name Mezro rung a familiar bell. She'd have to check on it later.
Personally she was of the same mind as Mica, though it might have been stated a little gentler given their company. And at his pointed question, albeit said to the side in a lower voice, the elf couldn't help but to suck her teeth for a moment before taking a long slow and steadying inhale, holding it a moment before finally letting out a, "Aye." Her hand gripping one of the top most spokes of her oddly formed shield that she had resting against the stone ledge at the moment. Meeting the warrior's eyes she then murmured, "Later." Green eyes flicking away from his as she cast about her gaze down below to the fight, not so much interested as looking for a distraction for her mind.
Nym Durnodel - Aspiring Heroes of Faerûn // Danica Amastacia - Red Dead Annihilation
Meili gave her usual short bow to Velan. "I apologize if my words offended you. They were not meant to be about people who came as guests of the land. I am but one humble monk, who came to find the cure for the problem that affects all lands. I do not seek anything in the jungle other than the source of the plague. So does others here, even if the motive is different. Flaming Fist is a big organization that already built a Fort on the land that does not belong to them. They take what they can from the land and send it back home. They bring their law here rather than accepting existing traditions. Do hope you are right about Shago and his vision."
It was the longest speech Meili gave so far and it did not sound confrontational - at least neither pose nor tone indicated it, merely an explanation. "You should be right, of course, about the plague." This time the tone was far less confident. Even if correlation does not imply causation - who knows the ways of magic? How long would it take for one to transform into another? Meili did not know, and though trusted people more familiar with the matter had her suspicions.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Mica looks at Danica and nods “Later, then.” Turning his attention back to the ‘games’ below, he leans back in his seat and takes a long drink of his Tej. He leans over to Ran “The shield is unwieldy in this type of fight and offers little protection against a beast. He will be the first to go down. How do you think they trapped these creatures anyway?”
He pauses, watching more of the fight before continuing with a different subject “So, any idea why your man went into the jungle with these white robed wizards?”
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Ran watches the large lizards approach the gladiators.
"They could have caught them when they were young," Ran suggests. "Easier to catch a little one and raise it to fight I would think. Though you'd have to rattle ya dags to scoop the little ones before the mother showed up."
He listens to the next question and and turns from looking at the arena floor to face Mica directly.
"He's a right pretentious twit who fancies himself a budding wizard. No idea why he's in the jungle though," Ran says. "His brains will be bugger all help when I get a hold of him. I'll send him back to his uncle in a box. If he's not too much of an ass I might even punch a few breathing holes in the lid. He just better not have done anything to my sister."
Ekene-Afa laughs at Danica’s question about odds. “It really depends on the fighter. I suspect these two have bitten off more than they can chew. But if more skilled warriors were involved? That would be a different story. If it were Taban and Shago down there, they would already be skinning those lizards to make boots as fine as Volo’s.” She smirks as she says the last bit, though Volo doesn’t betray any hint of insecurity about his fashion choices. She nods with respect at Mica's comments about shields as the fight unfolds below.
It is over fast. The spearman uses good footwork to sidestep the jaws of one of the Dimetrodons, and then plunges his spear into its neck, blood spurting as the creature rolls away and then lies still. He braces for the next attack but it does not come. Instead, his second Dimetrodon bypasses him entirely and races toward the man with the shield. Occupied with the two monsters in front of him, he is caught by surprise and dragged down from behind. The man's scream echoes across the stadium before the roar of the crowd drowns it out. It is a grisly scene, as the three remaining beasts fall upon the prone man and literally rip him into pieces. The spearman tries to take advantage of their distraction and launches an attack at the side of one of the feeding monsters, but either it was a poor strike or the creature's hide deflected the blade. All his attack succeeds in doing is turn the Dimetrodons attention back to him. They advance on him slowly and he begins to backpedal. After sidestepping several bites, he furiously waves one arm in the air. "Quitting already," says Ekene-Afa, sounding disappointed. The man continues to backpedal towards one of the portcullises, using his spear to buy him space until he is allowed to exit but arena handlers. The Dimetrodons soon return leisurely to the other man's corpse and resume feeding, until more handlers with ropes and nets emerge to recapture them. It takes nearly half an hour to wrangle the beasts and clean up the mess.
In the meantime, and given the group’s interest, Wakanga continues his history lesson. The emissaries of Ubtao - the Barae they were called – were powerful paladins. It is said that Ubtao’s power stayed with them even after he abandoned this world and despite being mortal humans, they were very long-lived. Mezro fell and collapsed into ruin more than a century ago, but the undead had been raised much earlier. The scholars disagree on when exactly, as all the records in Mezro were lost, but it is generally agreed to have been at least 220 years ago.
“As to this death curse, I cannot say if it is related to the unmentionable one’s armies or not. But it is novel, and we have no tales of such a curse that I have ever heard.” His demeanor becomes more subdued. “I have lost a friend to this curse. She was a powerful mage, a woman of great reknown in the continental city of Waterdeep. When the curse arose some months ago, she was among the first to travel here. She brought with her a small band of champions who ventured into the jungle on her behalf, seeking the source. Sadly, they did not return, and I watched my friend slowly fade away. After four weeks, she was gone…”.
Ekene-Afa weighs in on the Flaming Fist argument. “My sentiment is in line with the little lady,” she says, looking toward Meili. “The outsiders come here for their own profit, not for the good of Chult. At present, we are not strong enough to drive out the foreign influence. I would even go so far as to say we need it, for now. But only for now. As a fighter in the arena, I was used by many. And for as much gold and glory as I earned, my handlers and managers earned more. But I only let myself be used until I had enough coin and enough of a reputation to strike out on my own, and now look at me… born a beggar and now with my own seat in the Goldenthrone.” She beams with pride. “It will be this way with the Flaming Fist. We will tolerate them as long as we must, but there will come a day when Chult rises as its own power, and charts its own destiny. And on that day it will not only be the Flaming Fist who are expelled, but all the foreign powers who meddle in our land. The Zhentarim. The Lord’s Alliance. The Harpers.” She looks pointedly at Wakanga when she says this last bit, though not with malice. Wakanga gives her a knowing look in return, but says nothing.
Ekene-Afa shrugs at Ran’s question about the Soshenstar, but Wakanga has something to add. “It is said there is an area several days upriver where the jungle recedes and the river is surrounded by sandy flats. The Bloody Beaches. The river there is said to be full of crocodiles, and the shoreline patrolled by many dimetrodons. A very dangerous place.”
Ekene-Afa does not show any sign of offense at Mica’s words.
In response to Velan’s question, Wakanga replies that any of the merchants who serve them can pass along a message or request a meeting. You can also attempt to reach either of them at their villas in the Merchant Ward. “Does your little band have a name, such that we will know who is seeking an audience with us?”
With the first event’s carnage finally cleared away, the second act begins. A narrow wooden beam is raised to a height of 12 ft above the arena floor, and a nimble, athletic looking Chultan woman ascends, to the cheers of the crowd. Another portcullis opens, and a new beast emerges.
At first glance, it seems to be some sort of large flightless bird but as it moves and you get a closer look you soon realize it is a fast, bipedal predatory dinosaur a little shorter than a human and about 10 feet long from nose to tail. It might occur to some of you that many of the feathers for sale in the markets or part of the headresses you have seen on locals were actually from dinosaurs like this, rather than birds. A Deinonychus, Volo points out. It races at incredible speed and leaps into the air, jaws clearing the top of the beam and snapping shut, just inches away from the woman who moves deftly aside. This event, it turns out, is less a fight than a duel of acrobatics. The dinosaur continues to leap and attack with seemingly limitless energy, while the woman dodges, jumps, and does flips on the beam to avoid the attacks, always landing with cat-like grace. The audience is on the edge of its seat, gasping and cheering as the creature seems to have her, only for her to leap out of its grasp at the last moment. After five minutes of thrills, a group of handlers emerge and lasso the beast, and remove it from the arena. The woman does a bow to the adoring crowd before climbing down and departing herself. Any one who paid more attention to Volo than to the event would have heard him describe these creatures as smart, aggressive hunters that usual work in small family groups of 3 to 5 animals. A smaller cousin, the Velociraptor, is less dangerous individually but tends to hunt in much larger packs, of sometimes up to a dozen.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
GM: History roll for any knowledge on the Zhentarim, Lord's Alliance or the Harpers? Rolled on character sheet: 21
And now to never get a nat 20 in combat... XD
Nym Durnodel - Aspiring Heroes of Faerûn // Danica Amastacia - Red Dead Annihilation
Meili did listen, of course! Dinosaurs were fascinating on their own but if you know you are about to face them in the jungle, you would try to learn as much as possible. It was so interesting, in fact, that although Danica was clearly busy talking right now, Meili still dared to ask "Do you think we can ask Mr. Volo to join us? His book is a bit... expensive, but his knowledge is so useful."
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Danica:
Apparently you must have heard a thing or two about all of these groups in your travels, or perhaps your mentors told you about them over the years...
Zhentarim: Also called the Black Network, this is an old organization with roots that date back to old para-military orders that fought over the Moonsea region of Faerun as far back as the Time of Troubles. In modern times they have reformed themselves into a continent-wide affiliation of contracted fighters and tradesmen. Whether it be caravan guards, personal security details, or private armies, the Zhentarim promise to deliver the best men, at the cheapest price, on the quickest turnaround. Along with their public face as purveyors of fighters for hire, they also maintain many 'off the books' enterprises. You may very well have even known some smugglers or pirates in their employ. The Zhentarim have agents of all varieties, from courtly diplomats and negotiators, to spies and assassins. Their symbol is an inverted flying snake, which also resembles the shape of a dagger.
Lords Alliance: A loose coalition of rulers, primarily from the northern part of Faerun. These lords have come together out of a belief that mutual aid and cooperation is necessary to keep evil and chaos at bay. All of the great cities of northern Faerun count themselves members, though each always looks out for its own interests, first and foremost, and maintains its own independent agents along with those it contributes to the Lords Alliance. The organization's chief belief is that civilization and prosperity is key and it can be besy supported by bringing stability and peace to all places, by force if necessary. Their symbol is a crown.
Harpers: The Harpers are a semi-secret organization dedicated to promoting good, preserving history (including art and music of old), and maintaining a balance between civilization and nature by keeping kingdoms small and the destruction of animal and plant life to a minimum. In practice... you find that Harper agents tend to be romantic fools, overly impressed with their own struggles and possessed of a belief that they are the saviors of the Realms. There is also a long, bloody feud between the Zhentarim and the Harpers, with both sides blaming the other. The Harpers claim the Zhentarim are black-hearted agents of evil and despotism, while the Zhentarim claim the Harpers are insane idiots. The Harpers symbol is a harp tucked between the points of a crescent moon.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
After the second act comes to an end, arena staff begin preparing the stage for the main event. Meanwhile, Volo makes small talk with the Merchant Princes, mostly with Wakanga O-Tamu. It seems Volo was also acquainted with the mage who succumbed to the death curse, and he inquires after the circumstances of her passing.
Below, teams of men pull heavy chains, raising portions of the arena floor to creates walls, or to reveal spike filled pits. Other panels are removed to reveal shallow channels, into which braziers of hot coals are poured. When they are finished, the center of the arena floor has been transformed into a shape like an "X", surrounded by hazards.
Into the arena, marches a figure you all recognize; the gladiator Taban. He is bare chested, with a leather skirt. He wears a different, bulkier leather pauldron on his shoulder than the one he wore when you fought, and it looks like that shoulder may be bandaged underneath. He carries two of the cane-like sticks he neglected to use in his battle with you. When he is introduced, the crowd goes wild, chanting his name and stomping their feet such that the whole coliseum seems to shake.
From the opposite side, a half dozen knights enter through an open portcullis. Instead of the usual chainmail or half-plate, these knights wear a mix of leather and cloth armor around a steel breastplate. Some appear to have included local flavorings as well, with feathers and bone accoutrements woven into their gear. They each carry a banner:
Behind them walks a tall Chultan warrior, no armor hiding his dusky skin, but a cloak with the same coat of arms flowing behind him and a full steel helm covering his face. He carries a yklwa and a small shield.
One of the other knights steps forward and declares: "Presenting... honored son and heir of Merchant Prince Zanthi... descendant of the last of the royal houses of Chult... proud holder of the provisionary rank of Fist in the Flaming Fist company... and the greatest warrior this coliseum has ever seen... the mighty Shago!" As his name is called, the man called Shago removes his helm to reveal the face of a young man, not more than 20. He wears a broad smile and the sides of his head are clean shaven, leaving a short mohawk down the center. He casts off his cloak, tossing it to one of the knights and then he waves to the crowd. The wave turns into a flex, and the flex turns into a little dance. The crowd is split. Many cheer loudly for him, and an attempt is made to generate a chant of his name, but it does not have the strength of the prior chants for Taban. There are also many who disapprove, and the boos sound off louder than the cheers. A few spectators even try to throw fruit at the young gladiator, but none have strength of arm to reach him and their missiles fall harmlessly to the arena floor.
Soon, wooden foot bridges are laid down across the hazards to allow Taban and Shago to enter the "x", and then removed. The two men approach, salute one another with a hard punch to the chest, and then back off thirty paces and square off, seemingly waiting on some signal.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Mica watches the next dinosaur leap and jump after the acrobat while listening closely to Volo’s lesson. He intended to learn as much about these creatures as he could before he had to face them himself. He nods as Meili asks about Volo “He is full of useful knowledge, that is certain, but” Mica looks at Volo’s boots and clothing and adds in a low whisper “I am not sure how he will fare in the jungle, or in a fight.” He pauses and looks at Meili “Do you truly believe the cure to this Death Curse can be found in the jungle? Why do you search for it?”
As Shago enters the arena surrounded by the banners of the flaming fist Mica chuckles “A bit full of himself, isn’t he? But quite the showman, I wonder how he fights.” He considers the introduction for a minute before asking “Who is this Prince Zanthi? Does he support the Fist?”
Meili's eyes opened wide at the sudden question (she still had to master the proper control of emotions). She tilted her head slightly looking at Mica with surprise. "Don't you have anyone dear to you who might die and would not be ever returned? Even worse, the very soul of that dear dead one will be destroyed instead of finding peace beyond the realm of mortals. Don't you care that your soul will be gone should something kill you now? You are the lucky one if none of this bothers you. Someone very dear to me is ill and many people who come for help to our monastery are in deep fear now too. I do what I have to for them. The best scholars of Faerun found that the source of the curse is here. I asked many. The divine priest confirmed it too. The source is there, in the jungles. Yes, I believe if the source is destroyed, that will be the cure. But this is a good question, that we can ask the divine tomorrow morning". She smiled then and added quietly, so Volo could not hear. "Mr. Volo says he travelled the jungle himself to write his book. He might be quite the help in the journey."
Shago did not impress Meili that much. True strength does not need to brag. And as expected, the quiet invasion of the Fist was invited by one of the Princes. That was a passing thought, though, Meili was now completely lost in the show - Taban was about to show his true skills and boastful or not, his opponent did look like a good fighter too.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice
Ran puts his feet up on an empty chair, crossing his legs as he does and settles in to watch the next match.
He's staying out of most of the discussions going on around him. It's admirable that all of these people are intent on helping others and solving this curse, but that sounds way above him. Find his sister and find the brat and life might start getting back to normal.
He does watch the Flaming Fist closely. You don't run into them much in Waterdeep.
"Bit of a poncy group if you ask me," Ran says aloud gesturing at the Flaming Fist. "Think they're awfully special."
"She," answers Wakanga. "And Zanthi's mind is something of an enigma. Her family descends from the last of the royal dynasties. And so, she and her kin were kept as... special guests... of our Amnish overlords while they held control of our land. She was raised in their courts and learned the game of politics and intrigue better so than the rest of us Princes. On the one hand, she publicly bemoans the betrayal of her son in siding so openly with the foreigners. While on the other hand, she is known to host and entertain him and his knightly friends when they visit from Fort Beluarian. I wonder if even Shago knows where his mother's heart truly lies on the matter?"
Below the fighters continue to hold stances, until a loud drum sounds three times. Shago says something to Taban, though it is impossible to hear from this distance. The older man roars with fury and charges, and the battle begins. The crowd is electric and most of the spectators are on their feet, calling out the name of their preferred champion.
For all of Taban's speed you witnessed earlier, Shago is noticeably faster, avoiding most of the blows thrown by the larger man. But Taban has a clear edge in strength - one strike which Shago blocks with his shield still comes close to knocking him off of his feet. The battle is as much about positioning and spatial awareness as it is about combat... one false step could send either combatant tumbling into one of the traps lining the arena. So far, neither gladiator has gained an upper hand.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
If Danica can overhear Mica's comment to Ran about the man in the gladiator pit's shield being too unwieldly, she will frown and thumb a spoke of her own odd shield self consciously.
It interested Danica to see that the surviving man was allowed to surrender and flee to safety, doubly so that the strange reptilian creatures, Dimetrodons, were also safely returned to wherever they were being kept until the next time their hunger was needed. During the cleanup, she listened to the continued history lesson, seemingly unbothered by the dead man in the coliseum, before things turned a bit more somber at the personal note. Still the urge to mention this 'unmentionable one' was itching at her. A frown tugging on the corners of the sailor's lips, she intoned, "I'm sorry for your and the world's loss of her. I'm here on behalf of...a friend of sorts myself. For his sake, I have to ask, do you know how long it was between when she first knew and her passing?" Her wording was as delicate as possible, yet she held a serious gaze as she awaited his answer.
Hearing Ekene-Afa speak her mind so openly opposed against the Flaming Fists was heartening, though more intriguing was the glances between her and Wakanga at the mention of the Zhentarim, the Lord's Alliance and the Harpers. Most of what she knew about the Lord's Alliance was picked up through her travels over the decades, learning about the cities of the North, coastal and inland. She had little care for them or their politics. But the Zhentarim and the Harpers? That was a different matter. She respected the Zhentarim and their business. Even knew quite a few people in it. The Harpers more closely aligned with her own ideals though. Ideals being the key word and not practices. She'd heard very little good said about anything the Harpers did, even as much as she respected their values. Considering the fact that more than a few either worked for or with the Zhentarim, she kept her thoughts and opinions on the Harpers to herself.
A huff coming out of her nostrils at Wakanga's rhetorical question she answered quietly nonetheless, "Doubtful. Seems most politicians play things close to the chest. Which depending on their company, is wise." She awkwardly nodded at said 'politician', hoping she didn't offend.
Blinking as Meili spoke to her, she tried to focus on the question before glancing to the ostentatiously dressed man in question. "Hm? Y'mean join us....in talk? Or..." She got a surprised look in her eye as she asked for clarification, "Y'don't mean to join us in the jungle?" Grimacing and putting down her plate on a well placed table, Danica took another sip of her drink before saying to the young woman and Mica, "I'll admit, his knowledge would be handy to have at the ready. But I don't particularly fancy trying to keep him alive along with ourselves through whatever we'll be encountering. If he can hold his own, I might feel differently."
When Wakanga asked about their group's name so that they could properly communicate should the need arise, Danica was taking another passive sip before promptly choking on it as Velan looked to her to answer, unaccustomed to being put on the spot she cleared her throat while wiping the wet from her lips. Thinking of the Flaming Fists and all that they did and represented, she tried to think of what kind of impression she'd like people to have of their group and it came to her, "The...helping...hands?" She instinctively glances back at Velan before realizing that she was the official leader and she'd best start acting the part at least. "Yes, The Helping Hands. We're here to help and lend a hand. Or....ten. None of us seem to have a lot in common other than our differences and our willingness to help, at least with this curse. But a good spread makes for a tight group." She raised her drink before looking at Meili, Mica and Ran before finally settling on Velan with a lopsided smile.
After that was settled, Danica was delighted in watchin the acrobats perform and also watching the quick movements of the dinosaur below them, noting its name for later. "Wonder if a Deinonychus would make a good companion?" She asked of Mica with a roguish grin before cocking an inquisitive eyebrow to Volo.
A huff coming out of her nostrils at Wakanga's rhetorical question she answered quietly nonetheless, "Doubtful. Seems most politicians play things close to the chest. Which depending on their company, is wise." She awkwardly nodded at said 'politician', hoping she didn't offend.
And then came the main event that everyone was waiting for. Taban versus Shago. The pageantry that Shago entered with left a bad taste in her mouth and she of course couldn't help but internally root for Taban. The man didn't seem like a bad bloke, even while they had been fighting him. Hopefully his shoulder injury wouldn't put him at too bad a disadvantage. Nodding at Ran's words as she leaned along the balustrade next to the chair he put up his feet she said with distaste, "They generally do, yes. Great Righteous Law Abiding Flaming Fists. Never mind anyone that they think is in their way. Were I a betting woman, I'd put at least five copper on Taban on principle alone." She watched the fight with rapt attention.
Nym Durnodel - Aspiring Heroes of Faerûn // Danica Amastacia - Red Dead Annihilation
Wakanga thinks for a moment at Danica's question about the mage. "It is difficult to say. She was here in Port Nyanzaru for about a month before she passed. Prior to that she had teleported herself and her champions here from Waterdeep. I understand she arranged the trip on short order... but exactly how long between the onset of her symptoms and her passing? It is beyond my knowledge. While she was here, we spoke more on the past and better times, than on the topic of her affliction."
He also nods and says 'The Helping Hands' name should be... easy to remember.
As it happens, Volo goes on to mention that some parties do utilize the Deinonychus as trained beast... notably the Flaming Fist. They are known to have a troupe of the dinosaurs at their fort, and they take them out on their sweeps of the jungle, using their keen senses to sniff out undead.
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PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
The heavyweight fight below plays out in a series of three rounds. After what feels like 2-3 minutes, the drums sound again and the fighters retreat to their original starting positions, pausing to salute the crowds, adjust their gear and catch a breath. With another drumbeat, the battle resumes. Then... another pause and break after 2-3 minutes. When they resume fighting a third time, there is an obvious change in the ferocity and effort put forth by both. And after 2-3 minutes, there is no additional drumbeat, pause, or break in the action.
Volo leans over to explain; the first two rounds are exhibition, to excite the crowds and display the skill of the fighters. It is actually considered a failure of both fighters if one wins during those first two rounds, as they would have failed to give the crowd their money's worth. The final round, however, is for keeps. This will continue on until one of the men submits, can no longer continue... or is killed.
Taban is the aggressor through much of the fight. He uses his two weapons as clubs, but also tries to utilize the curves end to hook Shago's spear, his shield, or his limbs to trip or throw him off balance. The younger man's speed and agility allow him to avoid, duck and dodge the worst of the attacks but after a few minutes he is bleeding from the mouth and his wooden shield is cracked.
Shago seems content at first to let the larger man tire himself out, but Taban's relentless, heavy blows force a change in strategy. Shago begins to attack with aggressiveness of his own, trying to get his short spear inside the big man's guard, though this leaves him more susceptible to attack. There is a furious exchange where Taban blocks a spear thrust from Shago with his shoulder pauldron and deals a devastating combination of blows in response, sending the young man's shield flying and his body tumbling backwards. Shago is slow to regain his feet, but Taban is unable to press the advantage. Blood is now pouring down his arm and he has obvious difficulty lifting the weapon in that hand.
Once he regains his sense, Shago goes back on the assault. He uses his speed and footwork to stay on Taban's weak side, striking out with his spear and forcing Taban to make off balance lunges to try and return attacks with his good arm. Eventually this strategy pays off, as Shago sidesteps a clumsy strike and Taban tumbles off the stage into a shallow pit filled with hot coals. There is a simultaneous gasp from the crowd and a scream of pain from Taban. He throws himself out of the coals and back into the arena, but he is greeted with Shago's spear at his throat. He makes one attempt to swing his remaining club (the other lost in the hot coals) but Shago presses the spearpoint against his neck. With no other option... Taban drops his remaining club and yields.
The crowd - fans of both men - erupt in deafening cheers. Ekene-Afa stands and bellows "Well fought! Well fought!" and claps enthusiastically with her large hands. Shago, wounded and still seemingly a bit dazed, gives a bow to the audience before the Flaming Fist lay down a ramp for him to exit the fighting floor. Meanwhile, Taban struggles to his feet, severe burns visible on his arms and chest. He pushes away several attendees who had emerged to help him, and staggers off the stage and into a portcullis.
As the euphoria of the fights soaks in, the drums begin beating softly in the background and the crowd starts heading for the exits, the last rays of the setting sun sneaking through the gap in the stadium wall.
PC - Ethel - Human - Lvl 4 Necromancer - Undying Dragons * Serge Marshblade - Human - Lvl 5 Eldritch Knight - Hoard of the Dragon Queen
DM - (Homebrew) Heroes of Bardstown * Red Dead Annihilation: ToA * Where the Cold Winds Blow : DoIP * Covetous, Dragonish Thoughts: HotDQ * Red Wine, Black Rose: CoS * Greyhawk: Tides of War
Ran watches the fight with interest. He was always the one in the family that was more interested in all aspects of combat. If he could learn anything from these two he would. When Taban submits though, he smiles. He didn't care one way or the other if Taban won, but it was satisfying to think that the group might have affected the outcome of the fight with their encounter earlier today.
He pops up and snags another plateful of food before it disappears.
"So, now what?" Ran asks the others.
Danica lets out a disappointed cry as Taban falls into the hot coals and sighs as he yields. "Seems I woulda lost five copper. Ah well." She definitely took note of the shield user's fleet footwork, despite how much she despised those he worked with. She had a grudge but she wasn't blind nor a fool. Hearing Ran ask what the plan was next, Danica turned to the Merchant Princes and held up her very nearly empty glass. "It was a treat meeting you both. We thank you for your hospitality on this impromptu visit and hope to meet again. With any luck, after this curse is dealt with." Trading glances between Velan and Volo she asked, "Heading back to the Thundering Lizard now? Or do you want time to catch up with old friends?" Figuring that if he was heading back now, the least they could do was make sure he got back to the inn without being mugged.
Nym Durnodel - Aspiring Heroes of Faerûn // Danica Amastacia - Red Dead Annihilation