Yoric, you're collecting bets based on odds that Huto is providing in real-time. If anyone else would like to bet, the current odds are: Petgolor at even money, 2-1 for Ordorn, 4-1 for Thalion and 7-1 for Olive. Huto also brings you a porter and gives you an approving nod based on your performance so far.
Keaton you see a few surprised faces as you place a bet and approving nods among the regulars, who are pleased to see that you're a sporting man. They buy you a drink and excitedly talk your ear off. With Derfnor's surprise "retirement," everyone thinks the big firbolg Petgolor is destined to win the tournament, but Strongbow impressed a few of the old heads with his performance who dissect his performance
Thalion, you find an ancient looking human sitting on the sidelines who seems to fill the role of medic.. She gives you the once over and chortles, laughing until she coughs violently. "Yer not that bad a fighter, boyo. Course, you fight like an elf with that nasty bow o' yours. Like to see how you'd fare against some of the bigger boys who hit a bit harder." She patches you up and treats your cuts. just as Huto delivers you a glass of porter. "Dis from gentlemen who happy you gave Topip the what for. Little gnome shady bastard. Glad he not win. Take it easy and watch other fights. You probably not win the finale, but you no embarrass yourself." Huto pats your knee. "You help Huto sell ale, build dowry for daughter to marry POWERFUL dragonborn. You is okay, elf."
Togs looks at Yoric in excitement. "Togs train in many weapons. Mama insist so I make good wife to Dragonborn warrior. I is best with mace, but I also master of hand crossbow. Deadly accurate. " She mimes shooting at a target then grins widely and, let's be honest, a bit bloodthirstily. She looks at the list in front of you and dances about anxiously, her tail flickering around. Her eyes move between her mother, who is distracted talking with Thalion, the fighters milling about, and the list in your possession Yoric.
(Thalion, you are through to the Finals; Next fight is Ordorn the Bloodthirsty vs. Olive Buffon, the petulant teen to see who your first opponent will be.)
Thalion sighs gratefully, his posture becoming more relaxed as his wounds are treated and he has a beer in hand. He raises the glass and slowly but surely drains it with several loud gulps. He hums thoughtfully and nods. "Good drink for a good fight, I suppose? I'm glad to see the same kind of rustic charm here in the heart of the city that I found in the farmlands and beyond," he says with a smile to Huto.
The smile falters a little at the mention of "daughter" and "dowry" until the kobold mentions her intent to marry her off to a dragonborn - for a moment he thought he might have to have a very awkward conversation about elves and kobolds with her. He almost forgot that she said he would probably lose the finale. Almost.
Nevlav too approaches the bar, "Listen, can I just sit in a chair for the night? I will pay half the price for a room." The armored gnome looks about the room. "You can even call me insurance should anyone try anything in the bar."
Huto chuckles indulgently at you, Nevlav. "Huto has heard this story before, gnome! You can sleep in chair next to fire tonight. Two silver." The old kobold lady leans in close, inspecting the Pladin armor you're wearing. "You know, Huto could get good price for this armor if you really need money gnome. VERY sturdy. Decent craftsmanship. Yes, is good." She knocks on the armor with her tiny fist. "Five gold for armor and I'll kick out gnome Topip so you can have his room. After beating elf friend put on him, he no gonna be able to lay for awhile anyway."
DM Stuff
7
16
In the Pit
(I played these all out myself at the beginning of the week, so I will summarize briefly here.)
THe next bout features Ordorn the Hobgoblin versus Olive Buffon, the mysterious human teenager who seems to have some sort of invisible friend. At the beginning of the fight, the punters hardly have any interest, despite Yoric's efforts -- most people assume Ordorn will completely brutalize the young girl. Even Togs seems disinterested and she disappears from the little nook you're stationed in Yoric.
At the beginning of the fight, Ordorn lands a blow with his massive greatclub that seems to prove the doubters right. For some reason though, Olive seems totally, unnaturally unscathed, and unleashes a giant blast of purple eldritch energy that catches the big Hobgoblin barbarian unaware and knocks him on his ass. It sets a tone for the rest of the fight, with Ordorn struggling to get into melee range and Olive deftly avoiding his strikes and blasting him with some sort of magical energy. The crowd seems dumbfounded, not seeing much magic in their lives, and there seems to be a genuine awe, bordering on fear of the girl.
With a final flourish and a ray of sickly green energy that seems to zap Ordorn of his energy, the barbarian slumps, exhausted and unconscious. Olive has won.
As she marches out of the ring towards her isolated little corner, a hush falls over the crowd. She even waves off the old medic and as she passes by, Thalion you hear her having an animated conversation with herself once more.
"No! The rules said we couldn't kill him, much less butcher him for meat. Besides, hobgoblins are, like gross. And that one was all fat and stuff. He probably wouldn't even taste good." There is a pause "Ale? Ew! That's disgusting. Besides, you know I don't drink. Can you even, like, get sustenance anymore?
Yoric, when you look down, you see a new name hastily scrawled on the entry form. THE MASKED KOBOLD is written in bold, scrawled script under the name Petgolor. Sure enough, standing before you is a tiny kobold wearing a red hood and cape over leather armor. A little mace dangles at its hip, and a hand crossbow is strapped to its back.
"I is here to fight, halfling! And I is here to WIN. Announce my name. I is...The Masked Kobold."
Keaton enjoys the company. He watches as the human trounces the hobgoblin, staring truly a bit impressed. Once she recovers, he plans to sit down with her. She has some magic to her, and maybe she can help him with his translations. (Britton, Keaton will walk up to her as soon as she is settled)
"Hey, you have a couple impressive tricks about you. How do you manage those? I'm trying to figure out how to do a bit of my own." (Keaton uses Minor Illusion to make a crow start to fly around in a small space. After a few seconds, it disappears. "Care to compare notes?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Salazar - Human Warlock of the Fiend (1) - The Lucarcian Incident
Shepherd Torrent Brallern Water Genasi Druid (1) - Ekuepool
Celeste Belle - Air Genasi Mutant Blood Hunter (1) - Old West
Yoric looks at Togs the Masked Kobold with a grin. “I can’t wait to announce this one, kick his ass, seabass!”
”A NEW CHALLENGER APPROACHES!”
Yoric plays some music to add mood to the surprise challenger. “Next up! The Masked Kobold! A woman of maturity and raw appeal whom anyone would be hard pressed to resist! She’s ready and eager for blood! Facing her: Petgolor!”
Nevlav briefly brushes his armor off unconsciously at the attention, "I appreciate the offer but no thank you. A simple stool in a corner will do me for the night. Though you have reminded me, sometimes establishments like yours have stable kids or other such runners that will do small errands for a fee? I could use a small one if you." He places the silver on the counter regardless.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Keaton Persuasion: 16
Olive scowls at Keaton's display of magic. "We don't need company, old man." There is a pause, where you can see that Olive's attention seems distracted, and she whispers furiously. "No! No! Not right now. Not here." Turning back to you, she sighs and gives you her most withering look. "Look. I'm kind of busy, like, winning this competition and all. Your...trick....was cute and all, but did you see what we..I just did? Not sure your little bird was supposed to prove."
Nevlav, as you ask for a runner, Huto shrugs and grabs the silver. "Munur!" A massive half-orc dressed in a dirty union suit comes over looking at you very carefully. "What d'ya need boss?"
Huto hears the fracas come over at the Pit and she seems distracted, waving one of her little clawed fingers vaguely at Nevlav. "Help the gnome. He needs some help for errand." She moves off towards the Pit now, completely ignoring you and the customers who were trying to get served just as the next match is about to start.
The Masked Kobold marches into the ring, playing to the crowd heavily, clearly enjoying its time in spotlight. The crowd seems to respond heavily to the brave little lizard, and even Petgolor, the big firbolg monk seems to be slightly charmed. Huto arrives Pit-side just as the two combatants seem to circle one another.
Huto tugs on Yoric's sleeve. "That my daughter? Hafling, what did you do? Daughter not a fighter!" She moves to try to get into the ring, but the sheer jostle of the crowd makes it impossible for her to get into the ring.
The Masked Kobold pulls out her mace and charges, swinging it towards the big FIrgbolg's knees. With an impressive (for his size and bulk) flip, Petgolor dodges out of the way and then moves with lightning fast reflexes, striking the kobold with a MIGHTY blow with a Lathi stick. Everyone in the Pit area, as well as throughout the bar hears the cracking of bone. The Masked Kobold staggers back, gasping for breath and Petgolor presses his advantage sending a paw out that strikes the Masked Kobold in the throat. The kobold sinks down, then collapses.
There is a chorus of boos as Petgolor made such short work of the new competitor, and there is a sharp intake of breath as Huto rushes into the wing, waving for the medic, and pulling off the mask revealing her daughter. "Stupid daughter!" Huto chastises, as the doctor examines her.
Yoric, you can see that Togs is still bereathing, and sure enough, her eyelids flutter open. "I....I win, Mama?"
[Petgolor rolled a Nat 20 on his first attack :( ]
Meanwhile, Petgolor shrugs and moves out of the Pit, grabbing two filled pint glasses and draining them both quickly on his way out, unable to meet Huto's eyes. The card was set for the finale -- a three way battle between Olive, Strongbow, and Petgolor.
The arrival of the brash masked challenger was a welcome breath of fresh air after the frankly horrifying performance put on by the little girl. Thalion turns his disturbed gaze away from Olive just in time to see the Masked Kobold very nearly get both unmasked and beheaded. He winces at the sound of the club hitting the kobold's skull.
He takes a moment to ready himself and his weapons. Then he wipes away the blood the pesky gnome had spilled and examines his wounds, nodding in approval at the medic's handiwork.
(Am I back to full health for the next fight, by the way?)
(Yes, Thalion -- you are at full health for the final. There will be one more round for interactions if you want to chat with one of the competitors or someone else here)
The Pit medic gives Huto the all-clear to move Togs and the kobold starts to pull her daughter away. She glares at you Yoric and says "You lucky I like you, and my daughter okay. Otherwise, I make you dead." The younger kobold seems to be okay, but is clearly, at a minimum badly concussed.
"Okay, okay, make way! You get booze soon enough Just stay quiet! We no need guards here yet. Not til after finale.." Huto yells at the bar patrons as she props her daughter up on the bar and splashes water on her. As soon as her daughter wakes and moves, she puts her back behind the bar.
The betting is getting intense for the final round. Petgolor is still a heavy favorite, but odds have gotten slashed on Olive based on her performance as well. Strongbow is holding steady right in the center.
Is this a three way fight? And what are the odds Yoric can manipulate the betting in such a way as to pocket some of the money without anyone noticing?
It is a three-way fight. Strongbow v. Olive v. Petgolor for 250 gold or a magical item. Yoric you can certainly try to figure a way out to game the system. You and Togs were taking one set of bets, Huto at the bar was taking bets, as was the official oddsmaker, a thin, scruffy looking halfling who looks like he once was respectable but had fallen on hard times of late.
The oddsmaker is setting the odds based not only on the first round of battles, but also on the buzz from the crowd, hence the rapidly dropping odds on Olive, whose magic many people find genuinely unsettling. There are three identical tin boxes, one at each location that holds the betting money.
Your tin seems to be the lightest of three, while Huto's is the heaviest with the oddsmaker being somewhere in between. Huto is currently distracted tending to her daughter at the side of the bar, while the scruffy halfling is sitting with the tin in front of him next to the blackboard where he is constantly updating the odds.
If you want to make a move, describe your plans and make an appropriate roll.
"Goodman Munur, I could use a hand if you will. I am in need of a tabard from a local clothier. Something simple, without much finery. To blend in you see, you get what I am saying?" He shows a gold piece, "I need something well covering, any extra is yours for your discretion."
Thalion wanders over to Petgolor, giving him an eyeing over before nodding at him in greeting. "Listen, we need to team up," he blurts out before the firbolg can speak.
"The way I see it we're both creatures of the wilderness. Whatever that is," he says with a jerk of his head toward Olive, "is anything but natural."
Keaton has been observing. The gnome near the fireplace deserves watching. What kind of man pledges 'For the King," and then works to dismantle his sovereign's activities?
He eyes over Thalion, strategizing with the firbolg. He acts like an oaf, but he may be smarter than he looks. Or not. Good instincts at the least.
Yoric can work a crowd. It's interesting to see how he can draw enthusiasm from the audience, even getting more people to bet. If he's smart, he might pocket some of it.
The hardest one to read is Alden. Gonna need to keep an eye on him too...
The professor continues to watch, absently puffing on a pipe that is no longer smoking. After a couple failed pulls, Keaton grumbles something in primordial, repacks the pipe, then snaps his fingers over top of it, lighting it after a couple tries. Swiveling in his seat, Keaton takes a couple puffs, abruptly getting a face-full of smoke as it casually trails into his distracted face. "Bah!" he exclaims and coughs as he adjusts in his seat to let the smoke trail over his shoulder.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Salazar - Human Warlock of the Fiend (1) - The Lucarcian Incident
Shepherd Torrent Brallern Water Genasi Druid (1) - Ekuepool
Celeste Belle - Air Genasi Mutant Blood Hunter (1) - Old West
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Yoric, as you explain that the bets are off tonight, the oddsmaker's eyes narrow significantly, but he says nothing. You do notice that he is watching you fairly closely as the betting finishes up and the final round of the competition is about to begin. Huto, thankfully, seems distracted, so as the final bets come in, a few coins make their way into your pockets. Whether or not someone saw you or not is a question that will likely be answered after the match.
Yoric only
As you prepare to announce the final match, you hear a voice inside your head. "I was very disappointed to miss you at the jail, comrade. Why don't you share where you are and I'll bring Claudia? A proper reunion."
Munur grunts and scratches his posterior and his eyes light up brightly as he sees the gold that you produce, Nevlav. "Yeah, I know a guy. I can get ya something, halfling. Make ya look grubby like the rest of us." Before you can even correct him, he snatches the coin from your hands and darts through the door into the night, his eyes scanning for the city watch.
Thalion Persuasion: 12
Petgolor looks at you closely, then drains two pints deliberately before responding, and when he does its with a deep, booming laugh. "Ho, ho, ho! Afraid of that little stripling, Strongbow, eh? No worries! I'll knock you out first and then take care of her." He points his hathi stick at you good-naturedly. "Run along now, boyo! I got a fight to win."
Yoric, you, Huto, and the oddsmaker all meet eyes and nod. Its time for the final round to begin.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
The whistle blows and combat is on! Olive waves a small crystal around slowly around slowly and she begins to glow with a pale light and seems to gain an unnatural vigor. She moves to the corner of the PIt, as far away from both you and Petgolor as possible. "Boys, you play nice and little ol' me will hang out here 'til you are done." She whispers something else to hereself as she backs away.
True to his word, Petgolor advances on you. "Alright, Strongbow. Let's get this over with." He swings his hathi stick for the side of your head.
Attack: 18 Damage: 6
Moving with a quickness that belies his size, the firbolg swings his paw at the other side of your head, clearly trying to take you out quickly.
Attack: 14 Damage: 5
Attack: 22 Damage: 7
Only the hathi stick blow hits and, though your head is ringing from how hard the monk struck you, you are still able to evades both blows, bobbing and weaving around his paw and leaving the good natured Firbolg panting in frustration.
"Damn it! You're more slippery than a bullywug. Stay still, will you?"
Thalion heaves a sigh at yet another scenario where his tongue proved duller than his sword. Before he could even pull together a proper response the firbolg was advancing on him. He raises his shortsword to defend himself but the long limbs and the even longer stick cracked against his skull before he could hope to deflect the attack.
His next movements were instinctual. Perhaps seeing massive, furred paws swinging at his face brought him back to his days in the forest. Much like his first bout in the pit he finds himself sprinting away from danger, shortsword thudding into the dirt.
Heedless of whether or not the beast swung at his retreating back he moves as far away from Petgolor and Olive as he can, removing his bow from his shoulder in the process. He casts Hunter's Mark on Petgolor and takes aim at one of his legs in the hopes of slowing his next charge.
Attack: 17 Damage: 12
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Yoric, you're collecting bets based on odds that Huto is providing in real-time. If anyone else would like to bet, the current odds are: Petgolor at even money, 2-1 for Ordorn, 4-1 for Thalion and 7-1 for Olive. Huto also brings you a porter and gives you an approving nod based on your performance so far.
Keaton you see a few surprised faces as you place a bet and approving nods among the regulars, who are pleased to see that you're a sporting man. They buy you a drink and excitedly talk your ear off. With Derfnor's surprise "retirement," everyone thinks the big firbolg Petgolor is destined to win the tournament, but Strongbow impressed a few of the old heads with his performance who dissect his performance
Thalion, you find an ancient looking human sitting on the sidelines who seems to fill the role of medic.. She gives you the once over and chortles, laughing until she coughs violently. "Yer not that bad a fighter, boyo. Course, you fight like an elf with that nasty bow o' yours. Like to see how you'd fare against some of the bigger boys who hit a bit harder." She patches you up and treats your cuts. just as Huto delivers you a glass of porter. "Dis from gentlemen who happy you gave Topip the what for. Little gnome shady bastard. Glad he not win. Take it easy and watch other fights. You probably not win the finale, but you no embarrass yourself." Huto pats your knee. "You help Huto sell ale, build dowry for daughter to marry POWERFUL dragonborn. You is okay, elf."
Togs looks at Yoric in excitement. "Togs train in many weapons. Mama insist so I make good wife to Dragonborn warrior. I is best with mace, but I also master of hand crossbow. Deadly accurate. " She mimes shooting at a target then grins widely and, let's be honest, a bit bloodthirstily. She looks at the list in front of you and dances about anxiously, her tail flickering around. Her eyes move between her mother, who is distracted talking with Thalion, the fighters milling about, and the list in your possession Yoric.
(Thalion, you are through to the Finals; Next fight is Ordorn the Bloodthirsty vs. Olive Buffon, the petulant teen to see who your first opponent will be.)
Thalion sighs gratefully, his posture becoming more relaxed as his wounds are treated and he has a beer in hand. He raises the glass and slowly but surely drains it with several loud gulps. He hums thoughtfully and nods. "Good drink for a good fight, I suppose? I'm glad to see the same kind of rustic charm here in the heart of the city that I found in the farmlands and beyond," he says with a smile to Huto.
The smile falters a little at the mention of "daughter" and "dowry" until the kobold mentions her intent to marry her off to a dragonborn - for a moment he thought he might have to have a very awkward conversation about elves and kobolds with her. He almost forgot that she said he would probably lose the finale. Almost.
Nevlav too approaches the bar, "Listen, can I just sit in a chair for the night? I will pay half the price for a room." The armored gnome looks about the room. "You can even call me insurance should anyone try anything in the bar."
Huto chuckles indulgently at you, Nevlav. "Huto has heard this story before, gnome! You can sleep in chair next to fire tonight. Two silver." The old kobold lady leans in close, inspecting the Pladin armor you're wearing. "You know, Huto could get good price for this armor if you really need money gnome. VERY sturdy. Decent craftsmanship. Yes, is good." She knocks on the armor with her tiny fist. "Five gold for armor and I'll kick out gnome Topip so you can have his room. After beating elf friend put on him, he no gonna be able to lay for awhile anyway."
DM Stuff
7
16
In the Pit
(I played these all out myself at the beginning of the week, so I will summarize briefly here.)
THe next bout features Ordorn the Hobgoblin versus Olive Buffon, the mysterious human teenager who seems to have some sort of invisible friend. At the beginning of the fight, the punters hardly have any interest, despite Yoric's efforts -- most people assume Ordorn will completely brutalize the young girl. Even Togs seems disinterested and she disappears from the little nook you're stationed in Yoric.
At the beginning of the fight, Ordorn lands a blow with his massive greatclub that seems to prove the doubters right. For some reason though, Olive seems totally, unnaturally unscathed, and unleashes a giant blast of purple eldritch energy that catches the big Hobgoblin barbarian unaware and knocks him on his ass. It sets a tone for the rest of the fight, with Ordorn struggling to get into melee range and Olive deftly avoiding his strikes and blasting him with some sort of magical energy. The crowd seems dumbfounded, not seeing much magic in their lives, and there seems to be a genuine awe, bordering on fear of the girl.
With a final flourish and a ray of sickly green energy that seems to zap Ordorn of his energy, the barbarian slumps, exhausted and unconscious. Olive has won.
As she marches out of the ring towards her isolated little corner, a hush falls over the crowd. She even waves off the old medic and as she passes by, Thalion you hear her having an animated conversation with herself once more.
"No! The rules said we couldn't kill him, much less butcher him for meat. Besides, hobgoblins are, like gross. And that one was all fat and stuff. He probably wouldn't even taste good." There is a pause "Ale? Ew! That's disgusting. Besides, you know I don't drink. Can you even, like, get sustenance anymore?
Yoric, when you look down, you see a new name hastily scrawled on the entry form. THE MASKED KOBOLD is written in bold, scrawled script under the name Petgolor. Sure enough, standing before you is a tiny kobold wearing a red hood and cape over leather armor. A little mace dangles at its hip, and a hand crossbow is strapped to its back.
"I is here to fight, halfling! And I is here to WIN. Announce my name. I is...The Masked Kobold."
Keaton enjoys the company. He watches as the human trounces the hobgoblin, staring truly a bit impressed. Once she recovers, he plans to sit down with her. She has some magic to her, and maybe she can help him with his translations. (Britton, Keaton will walk up to her as soon as she is settled)
"Hey, you have a couple impressive tricks about you. How do you manage those? I'm trying to figure out how to do a bit of my own." (Keaton uses Minor Illusion to make a crow start to fly around in a small space. After a few seconds, it disappears. "Care to compare notes?"
Salazar - Human Warlock of the Fiend (1) - The Lucarcian Incident
Shepherd Torrent Brallern Water Genasi Druid (1) - Ekuepool
Celeste Belle - Air Genasi Mutant Blood Hunter (1) - Old West
DM for A Waterdhavian Heist
Yoric looks at
Togsthe Masked Kobold with a grin. “I can’t wait to announce this one, kick his ass, seabass!””A NEW CHALLENGER APPROACHES!”
Yoric plays some music to add mood to the surprise challenger. “Next up! The Masked Kobold! A woman of maturity and raw appeal whom anyone would be hard pressed to resist! She’s ready and eager for blood! Facing her: Petgolor!”
Paladin - warforged - orange
Nevlav briefly brushes his armor off unconsciously at the attention, "I appreciate the offer but no thank you. A simple stool in a corner will do me for the night. Though you have reminded me, sometimes establishments like yours have stable kids or other such runners that will do small errands for a fee? I could use a small one if you." He places the silver on the counter regardless.
Keaton Persuasion: 16
Olive scowls at Keaton's display of magic. "We don't need company, old man." There is a pause, where you can see that Olive's attention seems distracted, and she whispers furiously. "No! No! Not right now. Not here." Turning back to you, she sighs and gives you her most withering look. "Look. I'm kind of busy, like, winning this competition and all. Your...trick....was cute and all, but did you see what we..I just did? Not sure your little bird was supposed to prove."
Nevlav, as you ask for a runner, Huto shrugs and grabs the silver. "Munur!" A massive half-orc dressed in a dirty union suit comes over looking at you very carefully. "What d'ya need boss?"
Huto hears the fracas come over at the Pit and she seems distracted, waving one of her little clawed fingers vaguely at Nevlav. "Help the gnome. He needs some help for errand." She moves off towards the Pit now, completely ignoring you and the customers who were trying to get served just as the next match is about to start.
The Masked Kobold marches into the ring, playing to the crowd heavily, clearly enjoying its time in spotlight. The crowd seems to respond heavily to the brave little lizard, and even Petgolor, the big firbolg monk seems to be slightly charmed. Huto arrives Pit-side just as the two combatants seem to circle one another.
Huto tugs on Yoric's sleeve. "That my daughter? Hafling, what did you do? Daughter not a fighter!" She moves to try to get into the ring, but the sheer jostle of the crowd makes it impossible for her to get into the ring.
The Masked Kobold pulls out her mace and charges, swinging it towards the big FIrgbolg's knees. With an impressive (for his size and bulk) flip, Petgolor dodges out of the way and then moves with lightning fast reflexes, striking the kobold with a MIGHTY blow with a Lathi stick. Everyone in the Pit area, as well as throughout the bar hears the cracking of bone. The Masked Kobold staggers back, gasping for breath and Petgolor presses his advantage sending a paw out that strikes the Masked Kobold in the throat. The kobold sinks down, then collapses.
There is a chorus of boos as Petgolor made such short work of the new competitor, and there is a sharp intake of breath as Huto rushes into the wing, waving for the medic, and pulling off the mask revealing her daughter. "Stupid daughter!" Huto chastises, as the doctor examines her.
Yoric, you can see that Togs is still bereathing, and sure enough, her eyelids flutter open. "I....I win, Mama?"
[Petgolor rolled a Nat 20 on his first attack :( ]
Meanwhile, Petgolor shrugs and moves out of the Pit, grabbing two filled pint glasses and draining them both quickly on his way out, unable to meet Huto's eyes. The card was set for the finale -- a three way battle between Olive, Strongbow, and Petgolor.
Yoric moves to help Huto. “Better to learn here under your watchful eye than to do something brash where you aren’t. It builds character.”
Paladin - warforged - orange
The arrival of the brash masked challenger was a welcome breath of fresh air after the frankly horrifying performance put on by the little girl. Thalion turns his disturbed gaze away from Olive just in time to see the Masked Kobold very nearly get both unmasked and beheaded. He winces at the sound of the club hitting the kobold's skull.
He takes a moment to ready himself and his weapons. Then he wipes away the blood the pesky gnome had spilled and examines his wounds, nodding in approval at the medic's handiwork.
(Am I back to full health for the next fight, by the way?)
(Yes, Thalion -- you are at full health for the final. There will be one more round for interactions if you want to chat with one of the competitors or someone else here)
The Pit medic gives Huto the all-clear to move Togs and the kobold starts to pull her daughter away. She glares at you Yoric and says "You lucky I like you, and my daughter okay. Otherwise, I make you dead." The younger kobold seems to be okay, but is clearly, at a minimum badly concussed.
"Okay, okay, make way! You get booze soon enough Just stay quiet! We no need guards here yet. Not til after finale.." Huto yells at the bar patrons as she props her daughter up on the bar and splashes water on her. As soon as her daughter wakes and moves, she puts her back behind the bar.
The betting is getting intense for the final round. Petgolor is still a heavy favorite, but odds have gotten slashed on Olive based on her performance as well. Strongbow is holding steady right in the center.
Is this a three way fight? And what are the odds Yoric can manipulate the betting in such a way as to pocket some of the money without anyone noticing?
Paladin - warforged - orange
It is a three-way fight. Strongbow v. Olive v. Petgolor for 250 gold or a magical item. Yoric you can certainly try to figure a way out to game the system. You and Togs were taking one set of bets, Huto at the bar was taking bets, as was the official oddsmaker, a thin, scruffy looking halfling who looks like he once was respectable but had fallen on hard times of late.
The oddsmaker is setting the odds based not only on the first round of battles, but also on the buzz from the crowd, hence the rapidly dropping odds on Olive, whose magic many people find genuinely unsettling. There are three identical tin boxes, one at each location that holds the betting money.
Your tin seems to be the lightest of three, while Huto's is the heaviest with the oddsmaker being somewhere in between. Huto is currently distracted tending to her daughter at the side of the bar, while the scruffy halfling is sitting with the tin in front of him next to the blackboard where he is constantly updating the odds.
If you want to make a move, describe your plans and make an appropriate roll.
I think I just want to lie to the house about how many bets are coming in, and pocket some of the profit the house would’ve made at the end.
deception - 9
sleight of Hand - 22
Paladin - warforged - orange
"Goodman Munur, I could use a hand if you will. I am in need of a tabard from a local clothier. Something simple, without much finery. To blend in you see, you get what I am saying?" He shows a gold piece, "I need something well covering, any extra is yours for your discretion."
Thalion wanders over to Petgolor, giving him an eyeing over before nodding at him in greeting. "Listen, we need to team up," he blurts out before the firbolg can speak.
"The way I see it we're both creatures of the wilderness. Whatever that is," he says with a jerk of his head toward Olive, "is anything but natural."
Keaton has been observing. The gnome near the fireplace deserves watching. What kind of man pledges 'For the King," and then works to dismantle his sovereign's activities?
He eyes over Thalion, strategizing with the firbolg. He acts like an oaf, but he may be smarter than he looks. Or not. Good instincts at the least.
Yoric can work a crowd. It's interesting to see how he can draw enthusiasm from the audience, even getting more people to bet. If he's smart, he might pocket some of it.
The hardest one to read is Alden. Gonna need to keep an eye on him too...
The professor continues to watch, absently puffing on a pipe that is no longer smoking. After a couple failed pulls, Keaton grumbles something in primordial, repacks the pipe, then snaps his fingers over top of it, lighting it after a couple tries. Swiveling in his seat, Keaton takes a couple puffs, abruptly getting a face-full of smoke as it casually trails into his distracted face. "Bah!" he exclaims and coughs as he adjusts in his seat to let the smoke trail over his shoulder.
Salazar - Human Warlock of the Fiend (1) - The Lucarcian Incident
Shepherd Torrent Brallern Water Genasi Druid (1) - Ekuepool
Celeste Belle - Air Genasi Mutant Blood Hunter (1) - Old West
DM for A Waterdhavian Heist
Yoric, as you explain that the bets are off tonight, the oddsmaker's eyes narrow significantly, but he says nothing. You do notice that he is watching you fairly closely as the betting finishes up and the final round of the competition is about to begin. Huto, thankfully, seems distracted, so as the final bets come in, a few coins make their way into your pockets. Whether or not someone saw you or not is a question that will likely be answered after the match.
Yoric only
As you prepare to announce the final match, you hear a voice inside your head. "I was very disappointed to miss you at the jail, comrade. Why don't you share where you are and I'll bring Claudia? A proper reunion."
Munur grunts and scratches his posterior and his eyes light up brightly as he sees the gold that you produce, Nevlav. "Yeah, I know a guy. I can get ya something, halfling. Make ya look grubby like the rest of us." Before you can even correct him, he snatches the coin from your hands and darts through the door into the night, his eyes scanning for the city watch.
Thalion Persuasion: 12
Petgolor looks at you closely, then drains two pints deliberately before responding, and when he does its with a deep, booming laugh. "Ho, ho, ho! Afraid of that little stripling, Strongbow, eh? No worries! I'll knock you out first and then take care of her." He points his hathi stick at you good-naturedly. "Run along now, boyo! I got a fight to win."
Yoric, you, Huto, and the oddsmaker all meet eyes and nod. Its time for the final round to begin.
Olive Initiative:8
Petgolor Initiative: 5
Thalion Initiative: 10
The whistle blows and combat is on! Olive waves a small crystal around slowly around slowly and she begins to glow with a pale light and seems to gain an unnatural vigor. She moves to the corner of the PIt, as far away from both you and Petgolor as possible. "Boys, you play nice and little ol' me will hang out here 'til you are done." She whispers something else to hereself as she backs away.
True to his word, Petgolor advances on you. "Alright, Strongbow. Let's get this over with." He swings his hathi stick for the side of your head.
Attack: 18 Damage: 6
Moving with a quickness that belies his size, the firbolg swings his paw at the other side of your head, clearly trying to take you out quickly.
Attack: 14 Damage: 5
Attack: 22 Damage: 7
Only the hathi stick blow hits and, though your head is ringing from how hard the monk struck you, you are still able to evades both blows, bobbing and weaving around his paw and leaving the good natured Firbolg panting in frustration.
"Damn it! You're more slippery than a bullywug. Stay still, will you?"
Thalion heaves a sigh at yet another scenario where his tongue proved duller than his sword. Before he could even pull together a proper response the firbolg was advancing on him. He raises his shortsword to defend himself but the long limbs and the even longer stick cracked against his skull before he could hope to deflect the attack.
His next movements were instinctual. Perhaps seeing massive, furred paws swinging at his face brought him back to his days in the forest. Much like his first bout in the pit he finds himself sprinting away from danger, shortsword thudding into the dirt.
Heedless of whether or not the beast swung at his retreating back he moves as far away from Petgolor and Olive as he can, removing his bow from his shoulder in the process. He casts Hunter's Mark on Petgolor and takes aim at one of his legs in the hopes of slowing his next charge.
Attack: 17 Damage: 12