At this, Gadus finally engages the female dwarf. Looking over he says, "Well, I'm glad I extricated myself from a fire and landed in...another fire. At least my toes will keep warm." With a raised eyebrow he mimes a toast with his glass in jest. "Though, I am reminded of the intrigue back home from all the talk. Like a old horse that one: you never really forget the feel and play of The Game."
As conversation progresses in the private suite, flurries of motion continue around the arena below.
In the Pit itself, the mechs once again move. The retrieval crews scurry for the walls, several nearly getting crushed as the Borune mechs fluidly advance. With crystal precision, they spread across the field, encircling the Ironclad and the wounded Red. Their steps begin to turn into longer strides, circling and circling, until they seem to blur together in a ring of chrome and blades. Abruptly, one of them flings towards the center, striking the Ironclad from behind. The crowds roar. Twice more they strike at its back, until, with a swift arm, the wounded Red catches one across the shoulders with an outstretched arm. Staggered, the Borune mech falls to another brutal strike from the Ironclad, and another bell-like peal rings out across the sand. The three Borune mechs retreat, gathering closer together for their final move...
Anansi, his deft fingers just catching the closing door a step behind Ankarg, gently lever it open just enough to allow his entry. With a familiar silent crouch, he enters the room, ducking beneath a low table to the right of the door. He appears to be in a long chamber, slightly bent with the curvature of the outer wall. It extends beyond his sight in both directions. The room is quite busy, though with a different kind of people. Where without, the general theme was chaos and adrenaline-fueled excitement, here there is fast paced order - dozens of servants and hirelings quickly walking to and fro, barely sparing a passing glance for each other, each concerned with their own tasks. A quick glance, and he just catches a glimpse of Ankarg beginning to round the bend to his left.
With quick steps, Anansi catches up by a few paces, about twenty feet behind him as he approaches another door. Two burly dwarfs stand guard outside, recognizing Ankarg as he passes by. As the door opens, you catch a glimpse of sparks, oiled metal, and flickering shadows.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Anansi tries to quickly get a better look of what's behind the door. Perception: 10
After he looks he quickly turns around and heads back up to the box, not really wanting to answer questions from the guards, and also being a little curious about how the fight is going.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Gronk in Bastion, Kingdom of Medrin Elixisysin Talaveroth (Team 2) Uthal in Lost Continent of Theviranne
It seems to be another long chamber, filled with running figures holding bright machine-tools. From within, you can barely make out Ankarg remonstrating with another dwarf wearing an oily apron over well-made clothes. You can't make out their words, but they both seem nervous.
In the arena...
The stand off ends with a suddenness as brutal as it is unexpected. The Borune mechs, having gathered together, seem to blur for a moment, their crystalline exoskeletons flashing and flowing like light reflecting off a stream, but with the viscous consistency of molten metal. The crowd gives off a confused hubbub, occasionally hushed and breathless as more push forward, hoping for a better view. For a moment, the Borune mechs seem to move as one - a figure at least as tall as the Ironclad, grotesquely hunched, with enormous arms ending in terrifying 6ft scythes. It takes a step towards the Ironclad, pauses, and seems to stagger under its own weight. One of its bladed arms rushes to the ground to support it, and as it touches the ground a the sparkling sound of fracturing glass echoes through the arena. Large cracks appear on the mech's hunched back, shining with ethereal light as it falls into five or so pieces. The Ironclad limps forward with heavy grace, taking up the Borune banner and holding it high to the stands. The confused hush gives way to yet another wall of noise, though still considerably confused. The bookies have worried faces as they try to calculate the distribution of points, and far below, you see the crews rushing out to the mechs of both sides. Only the Ironclad is able to walk out under its own power.
A few minutes later, the dwarf announcer you saw before takes the field, gripping a large glowing stone in his hands. As he speaks, the words seem to pierce through the continued babble of the crowds, asking for a five minute break for the scores to be tallied and the pilots retrieved from the remaining mechs.
The good lady Smoke has enlightened uss as to who we should cozy up to for a hand in getting involved in the gamess that matter around here. A chap called Lord Wicker, also it sseeems the new mechss aren't unbeatable and we await the result of the match. I'll be honest i'm sstill waiting for the guardss to come down from above....
“Well I don’t understand what just happened. It looked like he was about to lose....and then, we’ll look,” Sereena says as she points out to the field. “He’s the only one standing....kinda. Wonder how he did it.....and how much gold can be won.”
"Lots." says Barak, reentering the room. Following him is a (for a dwarf) stocky, battered dwarf with a thatch of bright red hair plastered to his smudged forehead. His eyes are slightly glazed over, and he looks a little unsteady on his feet.
"Sereena, meet Maredin - Mardi for short. He was pilotin one of the smaller Red mechs, and only just now got pulled. Ah, and there's Ankarg! Late as usual."
Ankarg comes puffing up the stairs, bearing a new round of refreshments.
"I'll just leave these here." he gasps, turning to leave after carefully setting down a snifter and a few freshly opened bottles.
"Not so fast, you lazy-bum. I've something to discuss with you - a moment, if'n you please. I'll be right back up." Barak and Ankarg descend to the bottom of the stairs, passing Anansi as he ascends back up to the group.
Mardi looks around the room a little uncomprehendingly. With a slightly stuttering step, he stumbles towards the fresh snifter and pours what is roughly a triple-shot, which he immediately downs. "Ah, that's better. Did anyone see if Ank brought up some ice?"
Mardi briefly shakes the proffered hands, his focus more on the drink. While still shaky, his seems to settle a little bit. His eyes narrow at the new faces, still unsure as to their identities, or why Barak insisted he meet them.
Barak calls over his shoulder. "Depends on your odds - and those shift all-a-time. I'm not completely sure of the scoring system meself, half the time, but somebody always figures it out. You'll get you're money back. Ya bet Red, right?"
In clipped dwarf, he and Ankarge have a quick exchange. In but a moment, he bounces back to the top of the stairs, while Ankarg descends and exits once more.
"Ah, good. Mardi, these friends saved my neck upstairs a few moments ago. That'un, Sereena, had some messages with your Pa before the borders were closed. I thought perhaps, seein' as they were on good terms, you might, ya know, introduce. It's not like Old Menhir will be in any political danger from a few outsiders."
Mardi gives Barak a suspicious glare. He turns to Sereena. "What kind of messages did Pa send you?"
(In the background, Ankarg comes running back up the stairs, clutching a bulging envelope. This he leaves on the drink table before turning to head back downstairs again.)
Sereena grabs the drink closest to her. She lifts it to her lips, and as she is about to drink, she pauses. She lowers the mug and looks at it. Then sets it back down. "I think i have had my share for the night, thank you. And as to did I bet on reds, I think it would be a bit of a front to not bet on Menhir Redrickson since he is the one who has brought me here. So i guess we will see what the results are. I am still quite curious as to how you came out on top, Mardi. Their mechs seemed to have so much more maneuverability. How did you do it?" she asks as she has a seat.
"Menhir is your father? Interesting. As to our correspondence, he has requested aid for the Lowlands from the Temple of Ilmater. I arrived shortly before the attack and still have yet to have any news on those who were to follow me. There were to be three of us, but at the moment, it is just me. I want to send word back to the Temple as soon as I am able, but I fear that it will never make it." Sereena looks over to Ankarg as he runs in, drops the envelope, and runs out.
Mardi listens intently, still glowering slightly. He takes another deep swallow, then picks up the envelope. It sits heavily in his hand.
"Your winnings. I imagine at some point people started betting against the 'bets on Red' column, so our... lucky win was quite the upset, at the end of the day. And as how we did it, well, simply put - we didn't. I'm not sure how well you could tell, but those new Borune mechs emit heat like raw lava. Mechs'll only build up that much heat if there's a proportionally huge amount of energy doing other things in the meantime - in the Borune's case, it looks like they cracked the code for speed." As he speaks, Mardi seems to warm to the topic, his face growing gradually more animated. "But that kind of research would be incredibly expensive - far more so than our work on Ironclad, and we're running behind anyway, since Pa hasn't given the family R&D much in the last year..." His face narrows suspiciously.
"Hmph. I suppose it's money you'll be wantin' for your temple, then, and from family funds I'm sure." He casually tosses the envelope to Sereena, which she deftly catches. The envelope is surprisingly hefty, and made, you now feel, of something strongly reinforced. Upon opening and glancing within, Sereena's face would become slightly lit in reflected light (115 gp in the bag).
"A profitable night for many, I'd say." Barak grins through his beard.
Sereena surprised by the dwarf and the envelope being tossed her way looks inside. “Um, wait what? This is what my measly 15gp won? Maybe I will have that drink after all.”
And Serena grabs the drink she put down and takes a long swallow. With the sound of shock still in her voice, Sereena looks over at Mardi and says, “For starters, I came here because I was asked and invited, not because I am in want of your family funds. Secondly, the details that were discussed between Menhir and the Temple of Ilmater are not for me to discuss without talking with him first. But I will tell you that he seemed sincere in his concern for those in the Lowlands and a desire to help. But until he gets here, maybe we can discuss more of how the clan has been surviving since the drow attack......(she looks down at the envelope).......or when the next battle is?”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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At this, Gadus finally engages the female dwarf. Looking over he says, "Well, I'm glad I extricated myself from a fire and landed in...another fire. At least my toes will keep warm." With a raised eyebrow he mimes a toast with his glass in jest. "Though, I am reminded of the intrigue back home from all the talk. Like a old horse that one: you never really forget the feel and play of The Game."
(Well done all!)
As conversation progresses in the private suite, flurries of motion continue around the arena below.
In the Pit itself, the mechs once again move. The retrieval crews scurry for the walls, several nearly getting crushed as the Borune mechs fluidly advance. With crystal precision, they spread across the field, encircling the Ironclad and the wounded Red. Their steps begin to turn into longer strides, circling and circling, until they seem to blur together in a ring of chrome and blades. Abruptly, one of them flings towards the center, striking the Ironclad from behind. The crowds roar. Twice more they strike at its back, until, with a swift arm, the wounded Red catches one across the shoulders with an outstretched arm. Staggered, the Borune mech falls to another brutal strike from the Ironclad, and another bell-like peal rings out across the sand. The three Borune mechs retreat, gathering closer together for their final move...
Anansi, his deft fingers just catching the closing door a step behind Ankarg, gently lever it open just enough to allow his entry. With a familiar silent crouch, he enters the room, ducking beneath a low table to the right of the door. He appears to be in a long chamber, slightly bent with the curvature of the outer wall. It extends beyond his sight in both directions. The room is quite busy, though with a different kind of people. Where without, the general theme was chaos and adrenaline-fueled excitement, here there is fast paced order - dozens of servants and hirelings quickly walking to and fro, barely sparing a passing glance for each other, each concerned with their own tasks. A quick glance, and he just catches a glimpse of Ankarg beginning to round the bend to his left.
Anansi straightens up and follows after Ankarg, assuming that if he walks with the same purpose everyone else here does they won't question him.
Gronk in Bastion, Kingdom of Medrin Elixisys in Talaveroth (Team 2) Uthal in Lost Continent of Theviranne
With quick steps, Anansi catches up by a few paces, about twenty feet behind him as he approaches another door. Two burly dwarfs stand guard outside, recognizing Ankarg as he passes by. As the door opens, you catch a glimpse of sparks, oiled metal, and flickering shadows.
Anansi tries to quickly get a better look of what's behind the door. Perception: 10
After he looks he quickly turns around and heads back up to the box, not really wanting to answer questions from the guards, and also being a little curious about how the fight is going.
Gronk in Bastion, Kingdom of Medrin Elixisys in Talaveroth (Team 2) Uthal in Lost Continent of Theviranne
It seems to be another long chamber, filled with running figures holding bright machine-tools. From within, you can barely make out Ankarg remonstrating with another dwarf wearing an oily apron over well-made clothes. You can't make out their words, but they both seem nervous.
In the arena...
The stand off ends with a suddenness as brutal as it is unexpected. The Borune mechs, having gathered together, seem to blur for a moment, their crystalline exoskeletons flashing and flowing like light reflecting off a stream, but with the viscous consistency of molten metal. The crowd gives off a confused hubbub, occasionally hushed and breathless as more push forward, hoping for a better view. For a moment, the Borune mechs seem to move as one - a figure at least as tall as the Ironclad, grotesquely hunched, with enormous arms ending in terrifying 6ft scythes. It takes a step towards the Ironclad, pauses, and seems to stagger under its own weight. One of its bladed arms rushes to the ground to support it, and as it touches the ground a the sparkling sound of fracturing glass echoes through the arena. Large cracks appear on the mech's hunched back, shining with ethereal light as it falls into five or so pieces. The Ironclad limps forward with heavy grace, taking up the Borune banner and holding it high to the stands. The confused hush gives way to yet another wall of noise, though still considerably confused. The bookies have worried faces as they try to calculate the distribution of points, and far below, you see the crews rushing out to the mechs of both sides. Only the Ironclad is able to walk out under its own power.
A few minutes later, the dwarf announcer you saw before takes the field, gripping a large glowing stone in his hands. As he speaks, the words seem to pierce through the continued babble of the crowds, asking for a five minute break for the scores to be tallied and the pilots retrieved from the remaining mechs.
Anansi walks back to his seat. "What'd I miss?"
Gronk in Bastion, Kingdom of Medrin Elixisys in Talaveroth (Team 2) Uthal in Lost Continent of Theviranne
The good lady Smoke has enlightened uss as to who we should cozy up to for a hand in getting involved in the gamess that matter around here. A chap called Lord Wicker, also it sseeems the new mechss aren't unbeatable and we await the result of the match. I'll be honest i'm sstill waiting for the guardss to come down from above....
“Well I don’t understand what just happened. It looked like he was about to lose....and then, we’ll look,” Sereena says as she points out to the field. “He’s the only one standing....kinda. Wonder how he did it.....and how much gold can be won.”
OOC: Why is this suddenly playing in my head when I read this whole scene?
https://youtu.be/eaVcpfncOWs
Now I can’t un hear it
"Lots." says Barak, reentering the room. Following him is a (for a dwarf) stocky, battered dwarf with a thatch of bright red hair plastered to his smudged forehead. His eyes are slightly glazed over, and he looks a little unsteady on his feet.
"Sereena, meet Maredin - Mardi for short. He was pilotin one of the smaller Red mechs, and only just now got pulled. Ah, and there's Ankarg! Late as usual."
Ankarg comes puffing up the stairs, bearing a new round of refreshments.
"I'll just leave these here." he gasps, turning to leave after carefully setting down a snifter and a few freshly opened bottles.
"Not so fast, you lazy-bum. I've something to discuss with you - a moment, if'n you please. I'll be right back up." Barak and Ankarg descend to the bottom of the stairs, passing Anansi as he ascends back up to the group.
Mardi looks around the room a little uncomprehendingly. With a slightly stuttering step, he stumbles towards the fresh snifter and pours what is roughly a triple-shot, which he immediately downs. "Ah, that's better. Did anyone see if Ank brought up some ice?"
“Welcome back Barak. It is been quite a show.” Sereena holds her hand out to introduce herself to Mardi. “It is a pleasure.”
”And, um, exactly how much gold are we talking about Barak? Because I put some down but still do not grasp how this works with the scoring and all.”
Anansi nods to the dwarves as he walks by. "Gentlemen."
Gronk in Bastion, Kingdom of Medrin Elixisys in Talaveroth (Team 2) Uthal in Lost Continent of Theviranne
Salazar will walk over and grab a drink, perfunctorily shaking the new dwarfs hand before standing by the door.
Mardi briefly shakes the proffered hands, his focus more on the drink. While still shaky, his seems to settle a little bit. His eyes narrow at the new faces, still unsure as to their identities, or why Barak insisted he meet them.
Barak calls over his shoulder. "Depends on your odds - and those shift all-a-time. I'm not completely sure of the scoring system meself, half the time, but somebody always figures it out. You'll get you're money back. Ya bet Red, right?"
In clipped dwarf, he and Ankarge have a quick exchange. In but a moment, he bounces back to the top of the stairs, while Ankarg descends and exits once more.
"Ah, good. Mardi, these friends saved my neck upstairs a few moments ago. That'un, Sereena, had some messages with your Pa before the borders were closed. I thought perhaps, seein' as they were on good terms, you might, ya know, introduce. It's not like Old Menhir will be in any political danger from a few outsiders."
Mardi gives Barak a suspicious glare. He turns to Sereena. "What kind of messages did Pa send you?"
(In the background, Ankarg comes running back up the stairs, clutching a bulging envelope. This he leaves on the drink table before turning to head back downstairs again.)
Sereena grabs the drink closest to her. She lifts it to her lips, and as she is about to drink, she pauses. She lowers the mug and looks at it. Then sets it back down. "I think i have had my share for the night, thank you. And as to did I bet on reds, I think it would be a bit of a front to not bet on Menhir Redrickson since he is the one who has brought me here. So i guess we will see what the results are. I am still quite curious as to how you came out on top, Mardi. Their mechs seemed to have so much more maneuverability. How did you do it?" she asks as she has a seat.
"Menhir is your father? Interesting. As to our correspondence, he has requested aid for the Lowlands from the Temple of Ilmater. I arrived shortly before the attack and still have yet to have any news on those who were to follow me. There were to be three of us, but at the moment, it is just me. I want to send word back to the Temple as soon as I am able, but I fear that it will never make it." Sereena looks over to Ankarg as he runs in, drops the envelope, and runs out.
"What is that?" she asks Mardi as he exits.
Mardi listens intently, still glowering slightly. He takes another deep swallow, then picks up the envelope. It sits heavily in his hand.
"Your winnings. I imagine at some point people started betting against the 'bets on Red' column, so our... lucky win was quite the upset, at the end of the day. And as how we did it, well, simply put - we didn't. I'm not sure how well you could tell, but those new Borune mechs emit heat like raw lava. Mechs'll only build up that much heat if there's a proportionally huge amount of energy doing other things in the meantime - in the Borune's case, it looks like they cracked the code for speed." As he speaks, Mardi seems to warm to the topic, his face growing gradually more animated. "But that kind of research would be incredibly expensive - far more so than our work on Ironclad, and we're running behind anyway, since Pa hasn't given the family R&D much in the last year..." His face narrows suspiciously.
"Hmph. I suppose it's money you'll be wantin' for your temple, then, and from family funds I'm sure." He casually tosses the envelope to Sereena, which she deftly catches. The envelope is surprisingly hefty, and made, you now feel, of something strongly reinforced. Upon opening and glancing within, Sereena's face would become slightly lit in reflected light (115 gp in the bag).
"A profitable night for many, I'd say." Barak grins through his beard.
Anansi peers in at the envelope. "That's a pretty good evening. And we killed some drow! These lowlands are great so far."
Gronk in Bastion, Kingdom of Medrin Elixisys in Talaveroth (Team 2) Uthal in Lost Continent of Theviranne
Sereena surprised by the dwarf and the envelope being tossed her way looks inside. “Um, wait what? This is what my measly 15gp won? Maybe I will have that drink after all.”
And Serena grabs the drink she put down and takes a long swallow. With the sound of shock still in her voice, Sereena looks over at Mardi and says, “For starters, I came here because I was asked and invited, not because I am in want of your family funds. Secondly, the details that were discussed between Menhir and the Temple of Ilmater are not for me to discuss without talking with him first. But I will tell you that he seemed sincere in his concern for those in the Lowlands and a desire to help. But until he gets here, maybe we can discuss more of how the clan has been surviving since the drow attack......(she looks down at the envelope).......or when the next battle is?”