Between another cheer and clap of her hands, Decane looked around and surveyed the rest of the tent. There'd been a voice, a shrilly squeal and the beating of wings in her ear just moments ago. Was that...a quasit flying around? Someone's rogue familiar perhaps? But Decane had read many books about magic, and knew for a fact that quasits belonged to evil mages.
Which could only mean... Was there an evil mage lurking about?
This place just got a thousand times more dangerous. Decane was not the most competent combatant in the Forgotten Realms. Sure, she could shoot a bow, light her fingers with small spells, and twirl a longsword with a certain finesse, but she preferred her fiddle and her songs. If a master of magic really was hiding in the shadows, complete with a quasit familiar, then perhaps it was time to, as they say, take the money and run.
"Phew! I admit, I was nervous that time!" Decane laughed with her winning stage-smile, "Well, I would hate to overstay my welcome, friend, so I believe this is it for me. I wish you luck with your other customers!"
With that, she scooted out of her chair and turned on her heel.
For the record, I am fully aware that @CrevsDaak's quasit has no master. But Decane certainly doesn't know that!
At the Traitor's Head table, a lean man with angular features and a bush of wild hair raises the bleached skull of some sort of large humanoid above him with both hands. A look of concentration passes over his face, and the skull lifts itself out of his grasp to float above the table.
Dice rattle about in the levitating skull as it twists and shakes. The dealer makes a small motion with his hand, and the four dice bounce out of their grim container and strike the second skull with a quartet of clicks.
The dice come to rest on the velvet cloak. 2....3.....5....6.
"Sixteen!" the dealer calls out. @Anduin can only watch as the dealer scoops his silver coin off the table and begins dividing the pot among the winners.
You got a 3 and the house got a 4. . And I know the odds for these games aren't consistent with my die rolling method--but I just do it this way for simplicity and so that everyone has a relatively even number of wins/losses.
A tall Half-Orc standing just shy of 7 feet tall and thick with muscle wanders into the forum and stares out at the grandeur of the bizzare area he has now entered, he drops a hide satchel to the ground from around his shoulder and pulls out a book and begins flicking through the pages and starts reading allowed.
"...One of the more intresting sites of Waukeen's Promanade is the appearance of a new 'entertainment' cornor, a short time after the Bhaal Spawn crisis this mysterious establishment appeared... yadda yadda yadda" he skips ahead. "...You have now reached Kalesra's House of Fortune, gambling, drinking, fine food and an arena worthy of great heroes..."
The half-orc scratches his chin briefly before shutting the book.
"Ho! Seems this is the place!"
A woman carrying a basket of fruit walks by and the half-orc leans over her and pinches an apple from the basket and takes a large bite from it.
"Hmmm...mmmm....hmm?... mmmm!"
Delighted with the find he stuffs the rest of the apple into his large mouth and chews it with a self satified grin on his face.
"Ho! What good fruit!"
Several attractive lady patrons walk by him and the half-orcs eyes light up, he quickly wipes his mouth clean from the apples juices, he rushes after them and jumps in front of them taking posture to show off his physique.
"Ho! my good ladys! You need look no further! ho! Thats right good ladys i am none other than... the mighty....HO!.... GOURD HEAVY-FIST.... HO!"
The half-orc, now named Gourd begins punching and kicking the air, forming strange postures and hand gestures all the while looking rather pleased with his display and no doubt performing a routine he is quite familiar with.
"Ho! Thats right good ladys i am indeed part of the legendary... the feared... the respected... hoooooooooo! ORDER OF THE PUNCHY FIST!!!"
Gourd finishes with a handstand and flips over them, while the display is impressive the subtlety of the move leaves something to desired. Nevertheless the half-orc seems pleased with himself, confident he has impressed the ladies, though pehaps their worried stares and hushed giggles give way to more concern than admiration.
Anais breaths an exasperated sigh as Kang's ( @Heindrich ) antics escalate. She fingers her golden pin, her eyes following the erratic movements of the summoned robin which is now bobbing about just inches from her face.
"I'm afraid I can't give you my pin," she tells Kang. "It's no simple trinket. If you must have some sort of...token...to....ehm....awaken your bravery so that you can...um...display your no doubt impressive abilities in the arena, I could offer you something different. How would my...um...very favorite handkerchief do?"
She pulls a silk kerchief from an inner pocket, and still ignoring the little bird she proffers it to Kang. It shimmers with streaks of gold and green and smells heavenly.
You're mostly correct about cantrips. In AD&D it's actually a level 1 wizard spell which is simply called "Cantrip" and allows you to do all sorts of very minor tricks for the duration of the spell. I don't think you would be able to conjure an actual bird with a cantrip (or even a particularly convincing illusion of one, since this would mimic the spell effect of Phantasmal Force), but for the purposes of roleplaying I don't really care. I have absolutely no requirement that anyone has to follow AD&D rules to the letter here.
As Decane ( @Nonnahswriter ) stands up to leave the table she feels suddenly ill at ease. The hairs on the back of her neck prickle, and she has the unsettling feeling that someone is watching her. As she glances behind her, she thinks she catches a flicker of movement from near one of the many pillars that stretch up toward the cavernous ceiling.
Meanwhile...
Kellem watches the bard thoughtfully from his hiding place behind the pillar, trying to decide if she's worth the trouble.
"And she picks now to up and walk off," he grumbles to himself as she stands up and begins to make her way toward the door.
She's probably sensed that something is wrong...which makes her just the kind of person Kellem doesn't want to try and fleece. His eyes dart about, searching for a new target. His pockets are already heavy with pilfered gold. Perhaps it's time to call it a day.
But...
"Well I'll be," Kellem murmurs as he spots an intricate spellbook laying in easy reach near the Traitor's Head table. It looks valuable, and there it sits, resting on a little red cushion completely unguarded. It's as if it's calling for him to come rescue it from its foolish soon-to-be-former owner.
Kellem steps from behind the pillar and makes his way toward the spellbook.
"What in the nine hells!?!?" he curses as something runs full-on into his torso. There's a leathery flutter and a horrible screech, and as he steps back to compose himself he realizes that he's just had a collision with a quasit ( @CrevsDaak ). In his eagerness, he didn't notice the thing cruising toward him at chest-hight. He brushes himself off angrily.
"Where in the hells did YOU come from?" he sputters.
Kang ignores Ergo's ( @Booinyoureyes ) last barb, which he realises was intended to provoke him into confronting the rogue. Kang was no fool and will not be used and manipulated so easily. He makes a note of Ergo's name and appearance, and determines to teach him a lesson, later, as Anais turns to address him.
"Ah fair Anais, your blessed handkerchief would be perfect!" He does not apparently notice her irritation. He does not think it would be possible for a maiden to be unimpressed by his display. The robin releases its flower, which floats gently towards Anais, and the bird then swoops and grabs the silk handkerchief offered, before flying swiftly back to its master.
"Ah, what an enchanting aroma! Fitting for so enchanting a maiden!" Kang stows the handkerchief into a small pocket on his breast, leaving a corner visible, shimmering gold and green as it fluttered with his motion.
Kang approached the duelling pit, where the necromancer had been summoned and stood waiting.
Suddenly the bubble around Kang glows brightly, and then takes on a more substantial appearance. The decorative and superificial was now replaced with a proper combat protection, Minor Globe of Invulnerability. Kang continues to prepare, casting Stone Skin and Mirror Image in quick succession, before stepping into the pit.
"Let's get this over with, mage." He said, with a tone of contempt.
Kang is an early SoA level character, though I'm not necessarily going to stay totally accurate to sorcerer spells for level xx, since this is just a little RP fun.
Whether he can win this duel depends on the level of the Necromancer.
"I came from the Abyss originally but I made my residence in Baator, you know, I was the Leader of the Dissiasive Attack Force, and I was also the only in that category, so... I came frrom Hell!" "Hehe, don't dare to grab my spellbook, all my Arcane knowledge is on it. I've learned from a nameless guy that was fuuuuuuull of scars and he was entitled to fight foe the Baatezu for aaaall the eternity, he said that he had learned from maaaaaany people, even from Lum and maybe from Bigby too..."
*Looks over the other side and see Kang ( @Heindrich ) ready to fight*
"Oh, a fight! A fight of wizards! Much more interesting! I would like to participate!
OOC: Ox'Ym'Oron is a Wild Mage/Thief multi-class, he is very good with Arcane magics but he's never sure what's the best spell for the moment. He is around 1,7 Millions XP, so he can cast up to level 6 of Mage spells, he is 12 wild mage 13 thief.
As Gourd Heavyfist ( @Dreyy ) finishes his display of physical prowess, a muscular woman with short dark curls approaches him. She is wearing the red jacket that identifies Kalesra's employees over a suit of well-made chain mail. The hilts of a pair of scimitars peek from behind each shoulder.
"Well met, Master Gourd," she greets him with a curt bow. "I am Syf, the assistant fight coordinator at the arena. You look like a formidable sort. Perhaps I could interest you in entering the arena for a test of your strength? Here...come take a look. A fight is just about to start."
Two spellcasters have just entered one of the arena's five rings. The fight coordinator, a towering Aasimir woman, raises a hand above her head and brings it sweeping down to signal the start of the match. The gate of the ring clatters shut. A faint shimmer spreads in a circle around the metal enclosure, warding onlookers from stray magic. A crowd quickly gathers. They murmur excitedly. The fight is on.
One of the combatants is enveloped in a shimmering orb, an arrogant sneer on his lips as his hands move in intricate gestures. His body shudders slightly as a sheet of gray stone envelopes it, spreading from the tips of his fingers until every inch of exposed skin is the texture of granite. His form shimmers, and in an instant he has acquired a set of triplets. Four Kangs ( @Heindrich ) stand in a neat row where once there was one.
"Let's get this over with, mage," the four Kangs sneer in unison.
Kang's opponent is a gaunt elf in a midnight-blue robe. An incredible amount of tattoos climb from his thin face down to his knobby hands, and his ears and lips are riddled with dozens of piercings. He whispers an incantation and a stony facade, just like Kang's, covers his skin. At the same time, a bloom of pale, yellowish light spreads over him and suddenly he appears to be clad in transparent armor made up of thousands of tiny bones. He returns Kang's challenge with a cold, shrill laugh.
"Kelemvor's cold grasp awaits you!" he spits. He raises both arms high above his head, and the ground of the arena shudders. The crowd looks on as two pairs of skeletal hands emerge from the dirt behind the necromancer, soon followed by battered skulls, spines, limbs...They arrange themselves into two animated skeletons, which advance toward Kang as the necromancer takes a step back and begins preparing his next spell.
His level can be considered to be the same as Kang's. The two are pretty evenly matched. And absolutely feel free to be as flexible as you want in how you play your characters. You can even make up spells that don't exist in Baldur's Gate! It's all about the RPing.
As @Anduin gnaws at the spellbook, he feels a tap on his shoulder.
"Um....sir? Sir?"
It's one of the red-uniformed employees from the Traitor's Head table.
"You had 5 credits on 15, correct?" the man stares at the drooling mummy and the drool-covered spellbook, waiting for a response. Receiving no reply other than the continued sound of gnawing and what could have been a faintly discernible nod, he continues.
"You've won, sir! Your bet was recorded so you can collect your credits whenever you wish." Then a stern look comes over his face. "But I've been asked to tell you sir...if you continue to eat the betting tables and cast magic missiles at the dice, we'll be forced to escort you off of the premises."
@Anduin and the house tied with 2. I rerolled and this time @Anduin won 7 to 4. Also, a point of order...it seems there are now two spellbooks? Or perhaps there was a case of mistaken identity because I mentioned the Traitor's head table? I remember @CrevsDaak saying that his quasit had a spellbook, and he was sleeping on the chair with the red cushion, so the one the thief had his eye on was intended to be that one. So either @Anduin has a different spellbook, or he is mistakenly chewing away at someone else's tome. :P
Gourd returns the gesture of a bow back towards Syf (@Kalesra) but cannot help himself but do a few more hand gestures in the process followed by an arm flex, he grabs one of her hands and looks at her with a wide grin.
"Ho! I, Gourd, would be pleased to view the arena with you pretty lady! Ho! but first i was going to buy these good ladies..."
As Gourd turns around he notices the two ladies he was entertaining walking off giggling and whispering, they only turn back briefly and immdielty continue their giggle fits. Gourd lets out a long winded sigh and drops his arms down. He turns and restraightens his posture in front of Syf.
"Ho! On second thought, I, Gourd, would be pleased to escort the pretty lady to the Arena! Ho!"
He punches the air a few times and finishes with a thumbs up at Syf.
"Lead on good lady! And fear not! For you have Gourd with you! Ho!"
OOC: I have my spellbook in the chair, I'm like doing nothing/sleeping with the cloak over myself and the spellbook that is at my side, you can see the spellbook anyway because it isn't fully covered by the cloak, the spellbook's cover was green along time ago but now it's multi colored, slashes of paint, of blood, scratches all over one side and some pencil drawings that look looke made by a child, they represent a Quasit with a jester hat, a cpae with hood and a green book, in the first page the spellbook reads a text instead of spells, it says in a very big font, in red letters: Property of As'Tardym'Arsan, known as Ox'Ym'Oron and as 'pesky quasit' too. Hope that these cleans a little confusion
His level can be considered to be the same as Kang's. The two are pretty evenly matched. And absolutely feel free to be as flexible as you want in how you play your characters. You can even make up spells that don't exist in Baldur's Gate! It's all about the RPing.
Cool, I guess I shall then...
There is so very little lore regarding Kara-tur, and Shou Lung in particular, so I'll imagine some of his spells are Eastern secrets, or just unique to him as a sorcerer to messed around with the Weave.
"Ha! A Necromancer summons skeletons... how unpredictable" Kang taunts sarcastically. "Witness true power!"
He begins to chant in an ancient Shou language as the skeletons bear down upon him, rarely heard in Faerun, let alone the Sword Coast. As he does arcane energies swirl around him, and begin to coalesce into a serpentine form.
A (small) fabled Celestial Dragon of the East roars its arrival into the arena. The beast is alien to most of the patrons native to Amn, it flies with no wings, its serpentine body coils gracefully, perhaps twenty feet long, shining armoured scales glimmering as it flies around its master. The head is almost as large as a man's torso, it almost resembles an angry lion, but still appearing notably draconic.
With a subtle gesture and a confident grin, Kang bids to Serpentine dragon forwards, which swoops towards the skeletons.
This is Kang's most powerful spell and a bit of a personal party trick. Consider it equivalent to Wyvern's Call.
The Serpentine Dragon has the same HD, AC and THAC0 as a Wyvern, but has no poison attacks. Instead it has a fire-breath attack, which should be roughly equivalent to that of a low level Dragon Disciple. (I haven't actually tried the Dragon Disciple, so I am not sure how powerful it is.
*Anduin finds himself in a tug of war with a Quasit over a spell book of unknown origin*
Let meeee read it! I'll let you read mine!
*Quasit does a super tug... Takes spell book and both Anduins mummified arms... Which still stubbornly hold onto the book*
I have been playing the role of a mummie now for a long time... I am aware that purists may find somethings silly, however my character is based on the guy from Beetlejuice... Soooo.... Just bare with me...
*The blue haired elf rushes to the scene, before slowing and raising a blue eyebrow in Anduin's direction*
YOU are a troublemaker. This is an official warning!
Look... I'm 'armless really... And I am a regular punter!
Another 10 credits on the Traitors table please. Number 20!
*Anduin walks over to his arms, he bends down and kerplunks one arm back into the socket. With one arm reattached he takes the other and screws it back in. After clapping his hands and rubbing them together he briskly walks up to the spell book on the floor, stamps on it... once... twice... thrice... with the unfortunate Quasit underneath... Takes spell book, thumbs to the juicy spells at the back...*
Oooh! Haven't got that one... Or that one... Blimey this is high level stuff!
*Anduin rips out the juicy spells, stuffs them haphazardly into his own spell book, which he produces from a pocket in his chest cavity, throws the other spell book back onto the Quasit, squishing it again... before returning to gnaw on the traitors table*
[Spoiler]Our characters should either fight or the bouncers should come in a pull Anduin off to the fighting pits for treating a valued customer so badly! @CrevsDaak YOU ARE TOO NICE! Get angry![/spoiler]
*Elf with blue hair... who is obviously now beginning to think all undead visitors to the house of fortune are cretins... taps on Anduin's shoulder*
A word in your ear...
*Anduin, innocently places a dried shriveled piece of flesh in the elf's hand... The elf stares at it... Anduin stares at it...*
The necromancer stares momentarily at the dragon creature as the crowd points and gasps. His pale face contorts into a frown, and he extends his fingers toward Kang ( @Heindrich ) and begins to mutter an incantation. The light around the necromancer dims. A chill fills the air, turning Kang's breath into a billow of steam. The final words of the spell are spoken and a crackling bolt of pale light leaps from the elf's fingertips and snakes toward the other spellcaster.
The malevolent energy pierces right through the shimmering sphere that surrounds Kang and strikes him full in the chest. A shattering pain tears though the sorcerer, an aching cold so deep that the blood in his veins slows for an instant and his heart skips two beats.
In a second, the pain has subsided and the iciness has dissipated from Kang's body, but a feeling of incredible weariness lingers. He feels....weak. His mind races as he tries to focus on the next spell, begins shaping threads of the weave with his thoughts, feeling the power begin to.....
Feeling nothing. Nothing. The spell is gone from his mind as if he had never known it.
The necromancer cast Enervation, a 4th level spell (not in BG2 but in AD&D). The effect was that you were drained of about 3 levels. Along with the loss of levels you would have lost the ability to cast several of your spells.
*******
Outside of the arena
"Thank you for the escort," Syf says with the mildest hint of sarcasm as she and Gourd ( @Dreyy ) reach the arena. "You've done a fine job of assuring that no harm befell me. So...have you thought about whether you would like to participate in the next battle? Just tell me what manner of creature you would be interested in going up against, and I'll arrange the fight. The stronger your opponent, the more you stand to win."
She points toward a sand-filled ring off to the side of the arena where several weapon racks and practice dummies are arrayed. A tall monk is assaulting one of the dummies with a hail of kicks and punches.
"And until the fight actually starts," she explains, "you're free to practice over there. The man kicking the life out of that dummy is named Hectran. He would be glad to spar with you a bit, if you ask him nicely."
*******
By the Traitor's Head table
The elf is frowning rather sternly as he leans over @Anduin. His eyes are flinty.
"First of all, I came to inform you that you've lost this round. And second...I've given you many warnings and they've not been heeded. This is your last. You are banned from the Traitor's Head table for a fortnight, and if your antics persist, you will be dragged out, or worse, hauled off to the pits where the rest of the unsavory creatures wait to get skewered on some adventurer's sword. Now shoo! Find some other dealer to harass!"
With that, he turns on his heel and stomps back to the table. A burly bouncer, standing nearby, gives @Anduin a look of warning. He brings two fingers up in front of his eyes and then points them at the mummy with a glare.
*Anduin sadly walks away from the traitors table... He stares at his last 5 credits*
Oh screw it! Easy come easy go! 5 credits on the deck of many bad things can happen!
*Anduin picks up the Quasit*
Sorry for being rude earlier. The bad Karma has already bit me. Here, this spell is called Mummy dust. It will basically summon me to help you when you need it...
Gourd grins proudly, puffing his chest out and placing both hands on his waist momentarily before giving Syf ( @Kalesra ) another thumbs up.
"Ho! I, Gourd, was pleased to escort the pretty lady! A memeber of the Order of the Punchy Fist can do no less...!"
He fishes into his pocket briefly and pulls out a small weathered book, the title reads as 'Order of the Punchy Fist - Rules, Codes and Expectations!'. He flicks through a few of the pages until finding the page he was looking for.
"Ho! See it says so right here...!"
Shoving the page forward so Syf can see and placing a finger on a particular line, it clearly reads 'Rule 147: A member must always be ready to escort a fair damsel to her destination even if it inconviences the disciple...'. As quickly as the book was brought out it is forced shut and placed back into Gourd's pocket, the Half-Orc grins and grabs one of Syf's hands.
"Ho! Oh dear lady, how I, Gourd, have cherrished our time!"
He glares at the arena and then at Hectran before turning back to Syf. He ponders for a moment and begins to rub his chin, a long awkward silent moment passes, then suddenly the Half-Orc's eyes light up and he claps his hands togeather, the sudden display makes several of the passing patrons jump.
"Ho! Yes, you are right good lady! I, Gourd Heavy-Fist must impress the people here and show them the strength of the Order of the Punchy Fist first hand! Ho!"
He onces again begins to do postures and poses, several patrons walk over to watch him and while Gourd believes it to be due to his empowering pressence, the fact so many children have gathered leads one to believe they think his part of an act or a jester. He abrubtly points to Hectran in a overally dramatic fashion and shouts.
"Ho! You! Kicker of wooden foes! I, Gourd, wish to show these good people..."
He stops and turns back to Syf and grabs her hand briefly once again, his eyes sparkling like the innocence of child.
"And the the pretty lady ofcourse! Ho...!"
He releases his grip and refaces Hectran.
"...The greatness of Gourd before he does battle in the arena! Ho!"
Grabbing his hide tunic, Gourd uses all his strength to tear the shirt in two, flexing his muscle in all their glory, he lets the two peices drop to the ground and starts to do several exaggerated postures which look more strange than enforcing.
"Prepare a suitable wooden foe kicky man! Ho! For tonight he shall serve us as splinters and toothpicks to service our teeth picking of fruit and meat! Ho!"
Kang staggers backwards in shock. He had never even read about this spell before, let alone learnt how to cast it himself. The knowledge that his opponent had powers beyond his understanding and knowledge was both galling and frightening, as the prospect for his victory looked less certain all of a sudden.
As Kang clutched his chest in pain, there is movement beneath his robes, and a small furry head pokes out, from within. Before Kang had time to react, a ferret jumps clear from his robes, hissing at the necromancer.
Kang curses, clearly ashamed that his familiar is such a mundane creature like a ferret. He specifically a Bag of Holding magically sewn into the insides of his robes to effortlessly carry useful items, and also stuff his embarrassing familiar within, so it never needs to see the light of day and cause him inconvenience. Why can't my familiar be a dragon or phoenix or something else majestic? Why such a pathetic creature...
As Kang struggled to find his composure, the serpentine dragon he had summoned made short work of the skeletons, smashing one aside with the force of its charge, and snapping another into pieces with its monstrous bite. With another roar of defiance on behalf of its wounded master, the dragon surged towards elven necromancer, flames shooting from its angry maw...
Sorry it took so long. Been taking care of my boyfriend. He's sick with the flu...
Decane wandered about the tent with her eyes peeled for anything suspicious. Unfortunately for here, there was a lot to be suspicious of in a gaming tent on a completely other plane. The evil mage could be anywhere, be anyone...
Her first instinct was to check the arena. The flashing lights and sizzling crackles of magic filled the fightingpit, and Decane, being the amateur spellcaster she was, had no desire to inch too close. There was a half-orc warrior haggling...or was he trying to flirt...with one of the coordinators. Gourd ( @Dreyy ) of the Order of the Punching Fist...because it was impossible to not here his proclamations!
Decane rather liked his boldness, in a fellow-street-performer-kinda-way, but she was on the hunt for a mage, not a monk. She did a little meandering here and there, snatching glimpses at each of the games, until...
Her eyes squinted just to sharpen her vision, and make sure it wasn't playing tricks on her. She found the spazzy quasit once again, conversing with...a mummy? ( @Anduin ) Decane blinked and rubbed her eyes, but nope. That was definitely a mummy. Shorter than normal, and much more intelligent, yet still as drooly and bandaged as ever.
But...if he was speaking with the quasit ( @CrevsDaak )... That must be the master! An evile mage plotting something dastardly!
Or maybe he just wanted to throw his credits around for kicks and giggles.
Either way, Decane was not about to stand by and let obvious evil walk around free! She puffed out her chest, squared her shoulders, and drew her fiddle. The best way to fight evil, she always told herself, was to drown it in a happy song!
Decane's alignment is chaotic good, if anyone's wondering. XD
It's bedtime for me and I wasn't able to respond to everyone . I'll do so tomorrow though. And @Nonnahswriter , hope your boyfriend feels better!
The bouncer is still watching @Anduin as he makes his way to the Deck of Many Things table, the little quasit now bobbing along behind him and chattering appreciatively. The dealer, a tall Chultan with dozens of scars crisscrossing his face, gives the mummy suspicious look but takes his tokens.
The table is massive. It is hewn from heavy oak and stretches the length of three men. @Anduin takes his place at one end and a red-bearded dwarf settles at the other. The dealer bangs the end of an iron-shod staff on the floor. A gout of silvery flames shoot up from where the staff makes contact and spread out to form a barrier around the parameter of the table.
"Just in case something comes out of the deck that might want to eat our valued customers," the dealer explains with a toothy grin. "Or one of you two."
"Let's just get this over with," the dwarf growls. The dealer nods. He stands at the center of the table, halfway between the two contestants, and removes a deck of brightly colored cards from a wooden box. He tosses the cards into the air. They flurry like snow, and fall, improbably, into a perfectly neat stack. Selecting the top card, he spins it through the air toward the dwarf. It flies in a wide arc and lands in front of @Anduin's opponent.
"The Blind Man," the Chultan intones. "A decent card. You may win...but you won't like the consequences."
For a moment it is unclear what effect the card has had. Then the dwarf gasps and rubs his eyes wildly.
"By Moradin's Hammer!" he shrieks. "Where've me bloody eyes gone?!"
Indeed, where his eyes once were is nothing but a smooth canvas of flesh. He puts his head in his hands, howling in rage.
"Never fear!" the dealer comforts him. "Our priests and mages are standing by to do everything they can to restore your sight, as soon as the match is over!"
"Bloody hells!" the dwarf snarls, banging the table with his warhammer in frustration. The dealer ignores him. He draws another card and sends it flying through the air. It lands in front of @Anduin. The card's face shows an image of the moon--but it is no simple picture. The night sky can be seen as clearly as if @Anduin were looking at it through a window. The moon is bright and luminous, shining its silvery light onto the mummy's face. Grey clouds race swiftly by.
"The moon!" the dealer announces. "An excellent card!"
The glow from the card intensifies, and then there is a flash of light. A tall, pale woman suddenly stands in the center of the table. Her skin is the same silver as the moon and her eyes shimmer like water.
"You!" she points at @Anduin. "You have been granted four wishes!"
The light flashes again. She disappears.
"And the winner is............. @Anduin !" the dealer shouts. A pair of robed men run over to attempt to restore the unfortunate Dwarf's eyesight.
I ended up using this deck because it had more cards than the WotC one: http://luduscarcerum.blogspot.de/2011/05/complete-deck-of-many-things.html . I just drew from an actual deck of normal cards. @Anduin got the Queen of Hearts and the dwarf got the 9 of Clubs. The Queen of Hearts (Moon) gives 1d4 wishes. @Anduin was lucky enough to get 4 of them. They can be used at any time. Use them wisely. Unless you have low wisdom, in which case, use them in the most idiotic fashion possible. :P
hey guys! Unfortunately I was traveling and packing the past two days, but I'll chip in some more when I get the time in the next couple before going to visit Miss Boo. This is definitely my favorite role-playing thread! However, I think my crossbow of alliteration may be out of its amply amazing ammo
Comments
Which could only mean... Was there an evil mage lurking about?
This place just got a thousand times more dangerous. Decane was not the most competent combatant in the Forgotten Realms. Sure, she could shoot a bow, light her fingers with small spells, and twirl a longsword with a certain finesse, but she preferred her fiddle and her songs. If a master of magic really was hiding in the shadows, complete with a quasit familiar, then perhaps it was time to, as they say, take the money and run.
"Phew! I admit, I was nervous that time!" Decane laughed with her winning stage-smile, "Well, I would hate to overstay my welcome, friend, so I believe this is it for me. I wish you luck with your other customers!"
With that, she scooted out of her chair and turned on her heel.
Dice rattle about in the levitating skull as it twists and shakes. The dealer makes a small motion with his hand, and the four dice bounce out of their grim container and strike the second skull with a quartet of clicks.
The dice come to rest on the velvet cloak. 2....3.....5....6.
"Sixteen!" the dealer calls out. @Anduin can only watch as the dealer scoops his silver coin off the table and begins dividing the pot among the winners.
"...One of the more intresting sites of Waukeen's Promanade is the appearance of a new 'entertainment' cornor, a short time after the Bhaal Spawn crisis this mysterious establishment appeared... yadda yadda yadda"
he skips ahead.
"...You have now reached Kalesra's House of Fortune, gambling, drinking, fine food and an arena worthy of great heroes..."
The half-orc scratches his chin briefly before shutting the book.
"Ho! Seems this is the place!"
A woman carrying a basket of fruit walks by and the half-orc leans over her and pinches an apple from the basket and takes a large bite from it.
"Hmmm...mmmm....hmm?... mmmm!"
Delighted with the find he stuffs the rest of the apple into his large mouth and chews it with a self satified grin on his face.
"Ho! What good fruit!"
Several attractive lady patrons walk by him and the half-orcs eyes light up, he quickly wipes his mouth clean from the apples juices, he rushes after them and jumps in front of them taking posture to show off his physique.
"Ho! my good ladys! You need look no further! ho! Thats right good ladys i am none other than... the mighty....HO!.... GOURD HEAVY-FIST.... HO!"
The half-orc, now named Gourd begins punching and kicking the air, forming strange postures and hand gestures all the while looking rather pleased with his display and no doubt performing a routine he is quite familiar with.
"Ho! Thats right good ladys i am indeed part of the legendary... the feared... the respected... hoooooooooo! ORDER OF THE PUNCHY FIST!!!"
Gourd finishes with a handstand and flips over them, while the display is impressive the subtlety of the move leaves something to desired. Nevertheless the half-orc seems pleased with himself, confident he has impressed the ladies, though pehaps their worried stares and hushed giggles give way to more concern than admiration.
Another five credits on 15!
*Anduin, eyes on the dice, begins to chew the table once again.*
"I'm afraid I can't give you my pin," she tells Kang. "It's no simple trinket. If you must have some sort of...token...to....ehm....awaken your bravery so that you can...um...display your no doubt impressive abilities in the arena, I could offer you something different. How would my...um...very favorite handkerchief do?"
She pulls a silk kerchief from an inner pocket, and still ignoring the little bird she proffers it to Kang. It shimmers with streaks of gold and green and smells heavenly.
Meanwhile...
Kellem watches the bard thoughtfully from his hiding place behind the pillar, trying to decide if she's worth the trouble.
"And she picks now to up and walk off," he grumbles to himself as she stands up and begins to make her way toward the door.
She's probably sensed that something is wrong...which makes her just the kind of person Kellem doesn't want to try and fleece. His eyes dart about, searching for a new target. His pockets are already heavy with pilfered gold. Perhaps it's time to call it a day.
But...
"Well I'll be," Kellem murmurs as he spots an intricate spellbook laying in easy reach near the Traitor's Head table. It looks valuable, and there it sits, resting on a little red cushion completely unguarded. It's as if it's calling for him to come rescue it from its foolish soon-to-be-former owner.
Kellem steps from behind the pillar and makes his way toward the spellbook.
"What in the nine hells!?!?" he curses as something runs full-on into his torso. There's a leathery flutter and a horrible screech, and as he steps back to compose himself he realizes that he's just had a collision with a quasit ( @CrevsDaak ). In his eagerness, he didn't notice the thing cruising toward him at chest-hight. He brushes himself off angrily.
"Where in the hells did YOU come from?" he sputters.
"Ah fair Anais, your blessed handkerchief would be perfect!"
He does not apparently notice her irritation. He does not think it would be possible for a maiden to be unimpressed by his display. The robin releases its flower, which floats gently towards Anais, and the bird then swoops and grabs the silk handkerchief offered, before flying swiftly back to its master.
"Ah, what an enchanting aroma! Fitting for so enchanting a maiden!"
Kang stows the handkerchief into a small pocket on his breast, leaving a corner visible, shimmering gold and green as it fluttered with his motion.
Kang approached the duelling pit, where the necromancer had been summoned and stood waiting.
Suddenly the bubble around Kang glows brightly, and then takes on a more substantial appearance. The decorative and superificial was now replaced with a proper combat protection, Minor Globe of Invulnerability. Kang continues to prepare, casting Stone Skin and Mirror Image in quick succession, before stepping into the pit.
"Let's get this over with, mage."
He said, with a tone of contempt.
Kang is an early SoA level character, though I'm not necessarily going to stay totally accurate to sorcerer spells for level xx, since this is just a little RP fun.
Whether he can win this duel depends on the level of the Necromancer.
Damn dice! Give me a three! A three! What is wrong with you! It's not as if I'm asking for a six! I'm asking for half that. HALF!
*Anduin magic missiles a particularly unhelpful dice*
Calm down sir or I will be forced to forfeit your bet.
*Anduin scowls, picks up his spell book he absent mindedly left on the chair behind him and begins gnawing on it*
"Hehe, don't dare to grab my spellbook, all my Arcane knowledge is on it. I've learned from a nameless guy that was fuuuuuuull of scars and he was entitled to fight foe the Baatezu for aaaall the eternity, he said that he had learned from maaaaaany people, even from Lum and maybe from Bigby too..."
*Looks over the other side and see Kang ( @Heindrich ) ready to fight*
"Oh, a fight! A fight of wizards! Much more interesting! I would like to participate!
OOC: Ox'Ym'Oron is a Wild Mage/Thief multi-class, he is very good with Arcane magics but he's never sure what's the best spell for the moment. He is around 1,7 Millions XP, so he can cast up to level 6 of Mage spells, he is 12 wild mage 13 thief.
"Well met, Master Gourd," she greets him with a curt bow. "I am Syf, the assistant fight coordinator at the arena. You look like a formidable sort. Perhaps I could interest you in entering the arena for a test of your strength? Here...come take a look. A fight is just about to start."
Two spellcasters have just entered one of the arena's five rings. The fight coordinator, a towering Aasimir woman, raises a hand above her head and brings it sweeping down to signal the start of the match. The gate of the ring clatters shut. A faint shimmer spreads in a circle around the metal enclosure, warding onlookers from stray magic. A crowd quickly gathers. They murmur excitedly. The fight is on.
One of the combatants is enveloped in a shimmering orb, an arrogant sneer on his lips as his hands move in intricate gestures. His body shudders slightly as a sheet of gray stone envelopes it, spreading from the tips of his fingers until every inch of exposed skin is the texture of granite. His form shimmers, and in an instant he has acquired a set of triplets. Four Kangs ( @Heindrich ) stand in a neat row where once there was one.
"Let's get this over with, mage," the four Kangs sneer in unison.
Kang's opponent is a gaunt elf in a midnight-blue robe. An incredible amount of tattoos climb from his thin face down to his knobby hands, and his ears and lips are riddled with dozens of piercings. He whispers an incantation and a stony facade, just like Kang's, covers his skin. At the same time, a bloom of pale, yellowish light spreads over him and suddenly he appears to be clad in transparent armor made up of thousands of tiny bones. He returns Kang's challenge with a cold, shrill laugh.
"Kelemvor's cold grasp awaits you!" he spits. He raises both arms high above his head, and the ground of the arena shudders. The crowd looks on as two pairs of skeletal hands emerge from the dirt behind the necromancer, soon followed by battered skulls, spines, limbs...They arrange themselves into two animated skeletons, which advance toward Kang as the necromancer takes a step back and begins preparing his next spell.
"Um....sir? Sir?"
It's one of the red-uniformed employees from the Traitor's Head table.
"You had 5 credits on 15, correct?" the man stares at the drooling mummy and the drool-covered spellbook, waiting for a response. Receiving no reply other than the continued sound of gnawing and what could have been a faintly discernible nod, he continues.
"You've won, sir! Your bet was recorded so you can collect your credits whenever you wish." Then a stern look comes over his face. "But I've been asked to tell you sir...if you continue to eat the betting tables and cast magic missiles at the dice, we'll be forced to escort you off of the premises."
"Ho! I, Gourd, would be pleased to view the arena with you pretty lady! Ho! but first i was going to buy these good ladies..."
As Gourd turns around he notices the two ladies he was entertaining walking off giggling and whispering, they only turn back briefly and immdielty continue their giggle fits. Gourd lets out a long winded sigh and drops his arms down. He turns and restraightens his posture in front of Syf.
"Ho! On second thought, I, Gourd, would be pleased to escort the pretty lady to the Arena! Ho!"
He punches the air a few times and finishes with a thumbs up at Syf.
"Lead on good lady! And fear not! For you have Gourd with you! Ho!"
Hope that these cleans a little confusion
Cool, I guess I shall then...
There is so very little lore regarding Kara-tur, and Shou Lung in particular, so I'll imagine some of his spells are Eastern secrets, or just unique to him as a sorcerer to messed around with the Weave.
"Ha! A Necromancer summons skeletons... how unpredictable" Kang taunts sarcastically. "Witness true power!"
He begins to chant in an ancient Shou language as the skeletons bear down upon him, rarely heard in Faerun, let alone the Sword Coast. As he does arcane energies swirl around him, and begin to coalesce into a serpentine form.
A (small) fabled Celestial Dragon of the East roars its arrival into the arena. The beast is alien to most of the patrons native to Amn, it flies with no wings, its serpentine body coils gracefully, perhaps twenty feet long, shining armoured scales glimmering as it flies around its master. The head is almost as large as a man's torso, it almost resembles an angry lion, but still appearing notably draconic.
With a subtle gesture and a confident grin, Kang bids to Serpentine dragon forwards, which swoops towards the skeletons.
This is Kang's most powerful spell and a bit of a personal party trick. Consider it equivalent to Wyvern's Call.
The Serpentine Dragon has the same HD, AC and THAC0 as a Wyvern, but has no poison attacks. Instead it has a fire-breath attack, which should be roughly equivalent to that of a low level Dragon Disciple. (I haven't actually tried the Dragon Disciple, so I am not sure how powerful it is.
Hey I won!
Hey, this isn't my spell book!
Let meeee read it! I'll let you read mine!
*Quasit does a super tug... Takes spell book and both Anduins mummified arms... Which still stubbornly hold onto the book*
YOU are a troublemaker. This is an official warning!
Look... I'm 'armless really... And I am a regular punter!
Another 10 credits on the Traitors table please. Number 20!
*Anduin walks over to his arms, he bends down and kerplunks one arm back into the socket. With one arm reattached he takes the other and screws it back in. After clapping his hands and rubbing them together he briskly walks up to the spell book on the floor, stamps on it... once... twice... thrice... with the unfortunate Quasit underneath... Takes spell book, thumbs to the juicy spells at the back...*
Oooh! Haven't got that one... Or that one... Blimey this is high level stuff!
*Anduin rips out the juicy spells, stuffs them haphazardly into his own spell book, which he produces from a pocket in his chest cavity, throws the other spell book back onto the Quasit, squishing it again... before returning to gnaw on the traitors table*
Cooooommmme on Tyyyymora! Let it be THREE! THREE!
*Elf with blue hair... who is obviously now beginning to think all undead visitors to the house of fortune are cretins... taps on Anduin's shoulder*
A word in your ear...
*Anduin, innocently places a dried shriveled piece of flesh in the elf's hand... The elf stares at it... Anduin stares at it...*
So... What word are you going to put in it?
The necromancer stares momentarily at the dragon creature as the crowd points and gasps. His pale face contorts into a frown, and he extends his fingers toward Kang ( @Heindrich ) and begins to mutter an incantation. The light around the necromancer dims. A chill fills the air, turning Kang's breath into a billow of steam. The final words of the spell are spoken and a crackling bolt of pale light leaps from the elf's fingertips and snakes toward the other spellcaster.
The malevolent energy pierces right through the shimmering sphere that surrounds Kang and strikes him full in the chest. A shattering pain tears though the sorcerer, an aching cold so deep that the blood in his veins slows for an instant and his heart skips two beats.
In a second, the pain has subsided and the iciness has dissipated from Kang's body, but a feeling of incredible weariness lingers. He feels....weak. His mind races as he tries to focus on the next spell, begins shaping threads of the weave with his thoughts, feeling the power begin to.....
Feeling nothing. Nothing. The spell is gone from his mind as if he had never known it.
*******
Outside of the arena
"Thank you for the escort," Syf says with the mildest hint of sarcasm as she and Gourd ( @Dreyy ) reach the arena. "You've done a fine job of assuring that no harm befell me. So...have you thought about whether you would like to participate in the next battle? Just tell me what manner of creature you would be interested in going up against, and I'll arrange the fight. The stronger your opponent, the more you stand to win."
She points toward a sand-filled ring off to the side of the arena where several weapon racks and practice dummies are arrayed. A tall monk is assaulting one of the dummies with a hail of kicks and punches.
"And until the fight actually starts," she explains, "you're free to practice over there. The man kicking the life out of that dummy is named Hectran. He would be glad to spar with you a bit, if you ask him nicely."
*******
By the Traitor's Head table
The elf is frowning rather sternly as he leans over @Anduin. His eyes are flinty.
"First of all, I came to inform you that you've lost this round. And second...I've given you many warnings and they've not been heeded. This is your last. You are banned from the Traitor's Head table for a fortnight, and if your antics persist, you will be dragged out, or worse, hauled off to the pits where the rest of the unsavory creatures wait to get skewered on some adventurer's sword. Now shoo! Find some other dealer to harass!"
With that, he turns on his heel and stomps back to the table. A burly bouncer, standing nearby, gives @Anduin a look of warning. He brings two fingers up in front of his eyes and then points them at the mummy with a glare.
I'm watching you
Oh screw it! Easy come easy go! 5 credits on the deck of many bad things can happen!
*Anduin picks up the Quasit*
Sorry for being rude earlier. The bad Karma has already bit me. Here, this spell is called Mummy dust. It will basically summon me to help you when you need it...
"Ho! I, Gourd, was pleased to escort the pretty lady! A memeber of the Order of the Punchy Fist can do no less...!"
He fishes into his pocket briefly and pulls out a small weathered book, the title reads as 'Order of the Punchy Fist - Rules, Codes and Expectations!'. He flicks through a few of the pages until finding the page he was looking for.
"Ho! See it says so right here...!"
Shoving the page forward so Syf can see and placing a finger on a particular line, it clearly reads 'Rule 147: A member must always be ready to escort a fair damsel to her destination even if it inconviences the disciple...'. As quickly as the book was brought out it is forced shut and placed back into Gourd's pocket, the Half-Orc grins and grabs one of Syf's hands.
"Ho! Oh dear lady, how I, Gourd, have cherrished our time!"
He glares at the arena and then at Hectran before turning back to Syf. He ponders for a moment and begins to rub his chin, a long awkward silent moment passes, then suddenly the Half-Orc's eyes light up and he claps his hands togeather, the sudden display makes several of the passing patrons jump.
"Ho! Yes, you are right good lady! I, Gourd Heavy-Fist must impress the people here and show them the strength of the Order of the Punchy Fist first hand! Ho!"
He onces again begins to do postures and poses, several patrons walk over to watch him and while Gourd believes it to be due to his empowering pressence, the fact so many children have gathered leads one to believe they think his part of an act or a jester. He abrubtly points to Hectran in a overally dramatic fashion and shouts.
"Ho! You! Kicker of wooden foes! I, Gourd, wish to show these good people..."
He stops and turns back to Syf and grabs her hand briefly once again, his eyes sparkling like the innocence of child.
"And the the pretty lady ofcourse! Ho...!"
He releases his grip and refaces Hectran.
"...The greatness of Gourd before he does battle in the arena! Ho!"
Grabbing his hide tunic, Gourd uses all his strength to tear the shirt in two, flexing his muscle in all their glory, he lets the two peices drop to the ground and starts to do several exaggerated postures which look more strange than enforcing.
"Prepare a suitable wooden foe kicky man! Ho! For tonight he shall serve us as splinters and toothpicks to service our teeth picking of fruit and meat! Ho!"
"Thank you muchies for the spell!"
"Can I cast it on sundays? Or you want to have peace on sundays?""
As Kang clutched his chest in pain, there is movement beneath his robes, and a small furry head pokes out, from within. Before Kang had time to react, a ferret jumps clear from his robes, hissing at the necromancer.
Kang curses, clearly ashamed that his familiar is such a mundane creature like a ferret. He specifically a Bag of Holding magically sewn into the insides of his robes to effortlessly carry useful items, and also stuff his embarrassing familiar within, so it never needs to see the light of day and cause him inconvenience. Why can't my familiar be a dragon or phoenix or something else majestic? Why such a pathetic creature...
As Kang struggled to find his composure, the serpentine dragon he had summoned made short work of the skeletons, smashing one aside with the force of its charge, and snapping another into pieces with its monstrous bite. With another roar of defiance on behalf of its wounded master, the dragon surged towards elven necromancer, flames shooting from its angry maw...
Decane wandered about the tent with her eyes peeled for anything suspicious. Unfortunately for here, there was a lot to be suspicious of in a gaming tent on a completely other plane. The evil mage could be anywhere, be anyone...
Her first instinct was to check the arena. The flashing lights and sizzling crackles of magic filled the fightingpit, and Decane, being the amateur spellcaster she was, had no desire to inch too close. There was a half-orc warrior haggling...or was he trying to flirt...with one of the coordinators. Gourd ( @Dreyy ) of the Order of the Punching Fist...because it was impossible to not here his proclamations!
Decane rather liked his boldness, in a fellow-street-performer-kinda-way, but she was on the hunt for a mage, not a monk. She did a little meandering here and there, snatching glimpses at each of the games, until...
Her eyes squinted just to sharpen her vision, and make sure it wasn't playing tricks on her. She found the spazzy quasit once again, conversing with...a mummy? ( @Anduin ) Decane blinked and rubbed her eyes, but nope. That was definitely a mummy. Shorter than normal, and much more intelligent, yet still as drooly and bandaged as ever.
But...if he was speaking with the quasit ( @CrevsDaak )... That must be the master! An evile mage plotting something dastardly!
Or maybe he just wanted to throw his credits around for kicks and giggles.
Either way, Decane was not about to stand by and let obvious evil walk around free! She puffed out her chest, squared her shoulders, and drew her fiddle. The best way to fight evil, she always told herself, was to drown it in a happy song!
The bouncer is still watching @Anduin as he makes his way to the Deck of Many Things table, the little quasit now bobbing along behind him and chattering appreciatively. The dealer, a tall Chultan with dozens of scars crisscrossing his face, gives the mummy suspicious look but takes his tokens.
The table is massive. It is hewn from heavy oak and stretches the length of three men. @Anduin takes his place at one end and a red-bearded dwarf settles at the other. The dealer bangs the end of an iron-shod staff on the floor. A gout of silvery flames shoot up from where the staff makes contact and spread out to form a barrier around the parameter of the table.
"Just in case something comes out of the deck that might want to eat our valued customers," the dealer explains with a toothy grin. "Or one of you two."
"Let's just get this over with," the dwarf growls. The dealer nods. He stands at the center of the table, halfway between the two contestants, and removes a deck of brightly colored cards from a wooden box. He tosses the cards into the air. They flurry like snow, and fall, improbably, into a perfectly neat stack. Selecting the top card, he spins it through the air toward the dwarf. It flies in a wide arc and lands in front of @Anduin's opponent.
"The Blind Man," the Chultan intones. "A decent card. You may win...but you won't like the consequences."
For a moment it is unclear what effect the card has had. Then the dwarf gasps and rubs his eyes wildly.
"By Moradin's Hammer!" he shrieks. "Where've me bloody eyes gone?!"
Indeed, where his eyes once were is nothing but a smooth canvas of flesh. He puts his head in his hands, howling in rage.
"Never fear!" the dealer comforts him. "Our priests and mages are standing by to do everything they can to restore your sight, as soon as the match is over!"
"Bloody hells!" the dwarf snarls, banging the table with his warhammer in frustration. The dealer ignores him. He draws another card and sends it flying through the air. It lands in front of @Anduin. The card's face shows an image of the moon--but it is no simple picture. The night sky can be seen as clearly as if @Anduin were looking at it through a window. The moon is bright and luminous, shining its silvery light onto the mummy's face. Grey clouds race swiftly by.
"The moon!" the dealer announces. "An excellent card!"
The glow from the card intensifies, and then there is a flash of light. A tall, pale woman suddenly stands in the center of the table. Her skin is the same silver as the moon and her eyes shimmer like water.
"You!" she points at @Anduin. "You have been granted four wishes!"
The light flashes again. She disappears.
"And the winner is............. @Anduin !" the dealer shouts. A pair of robed men run over to attempt to restore the unfortunate Dwarf's eyesight.
This is definitely my favorite role-playing thread! However, I think my crossbow of alliteration may be out of its amply amazing ammo
*Anduin walks out of the arena shocked while he is given a standing ovation and what appears to be a tune of happiness from a bard on a violin*
I've read the stories! I'm doomed! Woe is me!
*Anduin clamps his hand over his mouth before any words come out*
...aaah! I wish for a staff of the magi!
*A staff appears in Anduin's hands*
Woo! I wish for unlimited credits!
I wish to become a chosen of Mystra!
I wish~
*Anduin is charmed by Decane @Nonnahswriter *